Treasure of the Abyss

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Treasure of the Abyss Page 25

by Tiffany Roberts


  The kraken remained cautious as they closed their circle, until one of the others flashed his light and gestured toward the bottom.

  The alarm on the other kraken’s face urged Jax forward. His veins filled with ice as his position afforded him a clearer view; pinned beneath the razorback’s shoulder was a figure in a black suit.

  Macy turned her head toward Jax when he arrived. Her skin was pale and beaded with sweat in the glow of her mask, her features strained. She mouthed his name.

  For a moment, terror froze him in place. In all their time together, through all her bouts of illness, he’d never seen her look so worn, so pained…so close to death. He shook it off and signed to the party. They rushed to the razorback, and — moving quickly but carefully — broke the spines that held it in place.

  Macy squeezed her eyes shut, bared her teeth, and arched her back as the kraken shifted the creature.

  Jax dropped to Macy’s side the instant the beast was free. He swept his eyes over her; they were drawn immediately to the wisps of blood flowing from her leg where her suit — and her calf beneath — had been torn to shreds.

  He leaned forward and gathered her in his arms. She clung to him with surprising, desperate strength. Their eyes met; he pressed his forehead against her mask and held her gaze as he wound a tentacle around her leg to stop her bleeding.

  Her scream was loud enough that he felt its vibration against the glass.

  Leaving the others to tend to the razorback, Jax lifted her off the bottom. Melaina looked from Macy to Jax, her features drawn with worry and fear. The youngling swam beside him as he raced toward the Facility.

  Though they hadn’t been far away, it was the longest, most difficult swim of his life; he pushed as fast as he could without jarring her, without putting any more strain on her wounded leg, without allowing more of her blood to flow. The water in the entry chamber had never drained so slowly. He wished, for a fleeting moment, that the Computer had a physical form he could rake his claws across after it spouted a cheery welcome.

  “Will she be okay?” Melaina asked once the water was shallow enough to speak.

  “Yes,” he said with a confidence he did not feel.

  When the interior door opened, he rushed through.

  “What do you need, Macy? Where do you want me to take you?”

  “The infirmary,” Macy said through the mask.

  “I don’t know that word. Describe the room.”

  “White. Lots of tables. Beds. Red sign—” she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth “—with two crossed lines.”

  He moved as quickly as possible through the corridors, twisting his torso to ensure she didn’t bump into anything. Though he’d never heard the word she used, he knew the room she’d described, and he hit the button outside the entry with his elbow when he arrived.

  The double doors slid apart, disappearing into the wall, and he hurried inside. He laid Macy atop one of the tall, narrow beds.

  “Sam, release the mask.” She turned her head to the side, letting the mask fall to the floor, and dropped her hands to grip her leg just below the knee. Jax kept his tentacle tight. “Need something to slow the bleeding. A bandage. Cloth. Anything.”

  Melaina was at the side of the bed, peering over the low railing. “I am sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re safe,” Macy’s smile was strained as she looked at the youngling.

  “Gather cloth to soak up the blood,” Jax said to Melaina. The youngling hurried to do so, and Jax shifted his attention to Macy. “You are going to be fine.”

  He wasn’t certain whether his words were meant to assure her, or himself.

  Melaina returned with a bundle of folded cloth in her arms.

  Jax took a piece from her — it looked like the sheet from one of the beds — and tore it into a more manageable strip. He took Macy’s foot in one hand and lifted it higher. She hissed; her knuckles paled as she dug her fingers into her leg.

  “Just wrap it. Quick,” she said.

  Clenching his jaw, he withdrew his tentacle. Blood seeped from the wounds, spilling onto the bedding beneath and staining it. Fast as he could, he wrapped the cloth around her leg and pulled it tight. Crimson blossomed across the fabric.

  Macy’s breath was ragged, and tears leaked from her eyes to mingle with the sheen of sweat on her face. Her tears didn’t stop her from curling forward, taking the ends of the cloth from Jax, and trying them together. She sagged back onto the bed once she was done, chest heaving.

  Humans didn’t heal like kraken did — Jax knew that much, but it wasn’t enough to help her. Had her body already suffered more than its limit? Helplessness roared inside him, an insatiable fire devouring everything, threatening to consume him. What if he did something wrong?

  What if he made it worse?

  “Melaina,” Jax said. The youngling shifted her wide-eyed gaze to him. “I need you to find Arkon and send him here. You know him?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Do not stray from the Facility. If you see others, pass the message on and remain inside.”

  Melaina turned and hurried away.

  Jax leaned over Macy and cupped her face. “Tell me what you need, Macy,” he rasped.

  “Need to clean the wounds,” she said. “Disinfect them.”

  “I do not know what disinfect means.”

  She laughed, despite her obvious pain, and lifted a hand to his cheek. “Then look for something to seal the wounds. Might look like a small gun. Or…a needle and thread. Check the cabinets.”

  Jax nodded, though his body refused, at first, to move away from her.

  “Go on. I’ll be right here.” She returned her hand to her leg.

  He opened the nearest cabinet and ran his eyes over its contents — dozens of bottles, glass jars, and plastic pouches and boxes. Each item had human symbols on its face, and some possessed the same crossed lines that were on the sign beside the door.

  “What happened?” Arkon asked from the entry.

  “We need to…disinfect her wounds,” Jax said without turning away, “and seal them. Do you know anything of this?” There was so much in this cabinet alone, and most of it looked the same apart from the symbols.

  “I have seen a device in some of the holograms that appeared to be used to seal wounds.” The sound of Arkon crossing the room was pronounced in his haste. “It looked like a heat gun, but it was smaller, with a long, cylindrical protrusion at the rear.”

  The two searched the cabinets frantically; Jax brushed objects aside to see behind them and opened the little boxes to pour out their contents, creating a clamor. But he found nothing like what Arkon and Macy had described.

  Moving backward, he swept his gaze across the room; there had to be something, somewhere, to help her. His hearts thundered against his ribs. He’d seen a few kraken bleed out during hunts, when the severity of their injuries outpaced their ability to heal.

  Time was against Macy.

  Jax hurried to the long counter against the wall and searched its drawers rapidly. Most were full of tools he had no name for. One of the upper drawers was larger than the rest; he tugged it open.

  It contained something familiar to him, though its scale was smaller — a charging rack, like the one where the heat guns were stored. This one had four guns docked within, each with a long protrusion extending behind its narrow grips.

  Jax pulled one out and turned to Arkon. “Is this it?”

  Arkon nodded, and the two moved to Macy.

  What little color had remained in her face was gone now. She lay with her eyes closed, her lips caught between her teeth. The cloth on her leg was so saturated that blood slowly dripped from it.

  “We found something to seal the wounds, Macy,” Jax said.

  “Okay. Need to take off the bandage.”

  Jax wasted no time; he passed the gun into a tentacle and tore the knot apart with his claw. Macy grunted through gritted teeth, squeezing her eye shut, as he peeled o
ff the fabric.

  Arkon wiped away the freshly welling blood with another cloth. There were several jagged tears in her skin, the worst of which was as long as Jax’s finger. The shredded material of the suit lay across the wounds.

  “We need to cut away the suit,” Arkon said.

  Jax slipped his claws beneath the fabric and tugged up; it stretched, but did not tear. When he exerted more pressure, Macy hissed through her teeth; his knuckles were digging into her leg.

  “We need to take it off,” Jax said.

  He touched the plastic piece on her chest and slid his fingertips around the edges, releasing the seal along the back. Despite his care when he tilted her onto her side, Macy cried out in pain. With Arkon’s help, Jax pulled the suit down, rolling it off her arms. They lifted her lower half to pull it past her waist. She bent her uninjured leg to help remove it from the suit.

  There was no way to remove the suit from her injured leg without causing pain, so Jax did it as quickly as possible. Macy writhed on the bed, limbs trembling, and clutched one of his arms. Her fingers bit into his flesh.

  Once the suit was off, she eased back onto the bed, breathing heavily. Jax tossed the suit aside as Arkon draped a sheet over her torso and thighs.

  Jax picked up the gun and stared at Macy’s ravaged leg. It didn’t look nearly as bad as the razorback’s head, but that counted for nothing.

  “How do I use it?”

  Arkon held his hand out. “I’ve seen it in use.”

  Without hesitation, Jax handed the gun to Arkon. “Quickly.”

  Nodding, Arkon leaned over her leg. With two fingers, he pushed one of the gashes closed. Macy whimpered. Arkon pressed the tip of the gun to her skin and pulled the trigger.

  Macy’s entire body tensed, and her mouth opened in a scream that was, for several terrifying moments, silent. She thrashed, pulling her leg away, and nearly rolled off the bed.

  “I thought you knew how to use it!” Jax shouted, catching Macy by her shoulders.

  “I do! But…I’ve only seen it used on unconscious individuals.” Arkon grasped her ankle to hold her leg still. “It’s working. Hold her down, and I will seal her wounds as quickly as I can.”

  Jax met Macy’s glistening, desperate eyes.

  “I need something to bite down on,” she said.

  Jax tore a piece off the sheet and twisted it into a tight bundle. She opened her mouth, and he placed it between her teeth. She bit down.

  He leaned over her, repositioning his tentacles to take hold of her thighs, and pressed some of his weight atop her. “Focus on me, Macy.”

  Her eyes widened for an instant before she squeezed them shut again. She writhed beneath him, and Jax increased the pressure on her limbs so she wouldn’t jar Arkon as he worked.

  “On me, Macy,” he repeated, more firmly. “Listen to me. Hear me. What you did was foolish. You are luckier than you may ever know to be alive right now.”

  The cloth in her mouth muffled her scream. When she was able to open her eyes, she kept them on Jax. Her gaze was filled with pain, but there was something else beneath it. Determination.

  “I told you to stay here, for your own safety, and you disobeyed me,” Jax continued. “Somewhere beneath my worry is anger…but the youngling is alive because of you. You saved her life, and though you risked death, this is not your final day. You have proven yourself a hunter today, a warrior.

  “My pride for you is beyond words.”

  Moisture flowed from her eyes. She grasped his arms tighter, digging her blunt nails into his skin.

  Arkon turned her leg and squeezed the trigger again.

  Macy arched her back. Jax shifted his weight to keep her pelvis on the bed and her thighs pinned. Her pupils expanded before rolling up, displaying only whites, and she sagged, limp, onto the bed.

  “Macy!”

  “What happened?” Arkon asked.

  Jax pressed a shaky hand to her chest, trying to ignore his pounding hearts. He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw tight enough that he risked breaking his teeth, and stilled.

  Faintly, he felt the beat of her heart under his palm; it was slow and weak, but it was there. Relief eased some of his panic.

  “She lost consciousness,” he replied. “Finish quickly.”

  As Arkon resumed his work, Jax cupped Macy’s cheek. Her skin was cold and clammy; less than an hour before, she’d been warm, vibrant, full of life. “You will be fine, Macy,” he said, voice rumbling from his chest.

  Chapter 21

  “I want to see the human.”

  “She is resting, Rhea. Leave.”

  It hadn’t been the voices that woke Macy, but the pain radiating from her leg, blazing along every nerve. Her throat was parched, and she was too warm. She afraid to move, even to open her eyes, and longed for the oblivion that had claimed her before.

  “I will not. I want to see the human,” Rhea said again, voice hard with authority. “Let me pass.”

  “No.” Jax’s tone was equally firm. “I will send for you when she is awake, so she can turn you away by her own choice.”

  “I don’t want to fight,” Macy said. She opened her eyes and slowly turned her head toward the doorway, where Jax barred Rhea’s entry.

  Jax twisted to look at Macy. His features eased with relief, but he didn’t move. “There is no fight. Rhea is leaving.”

  Rhea met Macy’s eyes. “Will you let me speak, human?”

  “Her name is Macy.”

  Macy stared at the female kraken and gave a small nod; it was all the motion she could stand. Now that she’d regained consciousness, her leg throbbed, each beat a new wave of agony.

  Frowning, Jax shifted aside. Rhea entered, with Melaina close behind. The girl hurried past her mother and grasped the low rail on the edge of the bed, bringing her face close to Macy’s.

  “Hi.” Macy forced a smile.

  Melaina smiled, too, but it quickly faded. “Why are you still in bed?”

  Jax took up a position beside Rhea, folded his arms over his chest, and watched silently.

  “My leg doesn’t want to work right now.”

  “When it does, can we dance again? I like your music. I like dancing with you, too. I am sorry this is my fault.”

  “Melaina,” Rhea intoned.

  “I would love to dance with you again.” Macy glanced at Rhea. “It was the best fun I’ve ever had.”

  “Me, too,” Melaina grinned and lifted a tentacle, brushing it over Macy’s arm.

  “If you wanted your youngling to see Macy, you should have said so,” Jax grumbled. “I would have let her through.”

  Rhea glared at Jax. “It is not Melaina alone who wishes to speak to her. I…have a few words.” The female turned her attention back to Macy, and the heat went out of her gaze. “I was wrong. At least about you. If you hadn’t found my Melaina, she…”

  “It’s okay,” Macy said, and despite her discomfort, slipped a hand through the railing and brushed the backs of her fingers against Rhea’s forearm.

  The female kraken flinched, but her expression was more confused than alarmed.

  “Thank you,” Rhea said. She settled a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Come, Melaina. We must allow her to rest.”

  Melaina opened her mouth to protest, but she snapped it shut when she met her mother’s stern gaze. “You promise we can dance again, Macy?” she asked as she was led away.

  “I promise. As soon as I’m better.”

  After Rhea and Melaina exited, Jax moved to the bedside, sank down, and took Macy’s hand. “How do you feel?”

  “It hurts so much, Jax.” There was no reason to pretend, with Melaina gone.

  He frowned deeply, brow falling low, and touched her cheek. “You are warmer than normal, Macy, and you have not regained your color.”

  She closed her eyes. His palm was cool against her heated skin. “Do you remember what I said about infections?”

  “That infections prevent wounds from healing.”

>   “And could get worse.” She opened her eyes. “I have a fever. My wound is likely infected, and there’s a good chance this will get worse before it gets better.”

  Somehow, his expression grew even more distressed. “And if it does?”

  Macy searched his face. She hated to worry him, hated that her recklessness was doing this to him…but if she hadn’t gone out, who could say if the kraken would’ve found Melaina in time?

  “It… The infection could get into my bloodstream…and I could die if it’s not treated properly.”

  The look on his face hurt worse than her leg, if only briefly. She couldn’t imagine what he was feeling — he’d likely thought her as good as dead when he found her with the razorback, and after the frantic return to the Facility and his desperate attempts to care for her injuries, she was still in danger of death.

  “How do we treat it?” His voice was surprisingly steady.

  “Antibiotics. Medicine. That’s the only way to be sure.”

  “Medicine,” he repeated, glancing past her. “There are countless bottles in the cabinets. Some of that must be medicine.”

  “But I don’t know which to use, or how much to take, or if any of it is still good.” She covered his hands with hers, drawing his attention back. “If I get worse…I need to go back to The Watch.”

  His jaw muscles bulged, and he nodded. “Anything it takes to keep you safe.”

  “I love you.”

  “And I, you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “What do you need? What can I do, now?”

  “Water.”

  His touch lingered, and their eyes held. So much passed between them in that moment — love, fear, desperation, and determination. Macy watched silently as he went to retrieve her water.

  All those times she’d asked to be taken back to The Watch, all those times he’d denied her, and only now — when she didn’t want to return — would he bring her without hesitation. Because her life was on the line, and that was more important to him than anything else.

 

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