by Megan Curd
Sari snorted. “If he wasn’t half dead, I’d say he was a pig.”
“He’s not a pig,” I argued in his honor as Sari shut the door. “He’s bleeding out.”
“Yeah, well, he won’t be winning any gentleman quarterly awards today either,” Jaxon said in the distance.
“Ain’t got to, buddy,” Legs said weakly. “Just gotta get Avery home.”
His comment turned my blood cold. How did he get here? Why is he here? I had so many questions with no clue where to begin. “How did you…where did you…what is this place? This tunnel?”
“I wanted a way out of the academy if there was an emergency and Sari helped,” whispered Jaxon. “That’s all you need to know.”
“I think I’ll stay in the academy if the outside is as dangerous as it was today, thanks.”
“It’s not the outside you have to be worried about. It’s what’s inside the Academy that you should be afraid of. Exegi monumentum aere perennius, remember?”
“You mean…?”
“Welcome to Chromelius Academy, Avery. You may have come here with what you thought was free will, but you won’t be leaving unless you’re in a body bag.”
“BE CAREFUL WITH him,” I called as Sari and Jaxon carried Legs. The stairs were so narrow they took them sideways, adding to the already dangerous trek down the slippery, mossy mess.
“Oh yeah, because we planned on chucking him to see if he’d bounce down the last six steps before you said that,” Jaxon said.
Legs groaned. “Might be better if you did.”
The defeat in his voice scared me. I couldn’t lose him again. Everything that had happened to him was my fault. “Don’t say that! Jaxon told me they have a great medical wing here.”
“Yeah, because I’ll be welcomed with open arms. Oops, arm. Get it?” He was delusional from blood loss.
In the dim light, I saw Jaxon’s outline stop to readjust him before continuing.
Guilt settled in the pit of my stomach, and urgency washed over me. Legs was going to die in this hellhole, and it was because of me. We needed to get him medical attention now. As we reached the foot of the stairs, a thought struck me.
“We can’t go parading into the atrium with a bloody guy, can we? That’s not conspicuous at all.”
Jaxon grunted out a laugh. “No kidding, Sherlock. There’s another door down here.”
Crowded at the bottom of the stairwell, Sari’s free hand found a doorknob to the left. The entryway blew cold air into our faces. Sari took off her mask, which I took it as an indication that I could do the same.
This hallway was dank, and lights snaked along the upper corners of the walls from naked wires. They buzzed and the blinked as electricity surged. A few feet ahead, a shower of sparks flew. How had anyone not been electrocuted?
There were niches along the walls as in the dormitory hallway, but nothing was inside them except cobwebs that sagged under the weight of the damp air. Rusted bolts, screws, and old piping ran along the corners of the floor. Our footsteps echoed off the cement walls and a chill having nothing to do with the cold ran up my spine. “Are there cameras around?”
“No,” said Sari. “This is one of the only places they aren’t.”
“And that’s only because Riggs doesn’t know anyone uses it,” added Jaxon bitterly. “He leaves this disgusting underbelly alone because no one comes down here. He doesn’t think anyone sees the ugly in this place, just like Alice said to me last night. She’s a wise one, even if she does have a weak stomach for rule-breaking.”
We ran in silence for a few minutes. The tick, tick, tick, of the gears grinding and the hum of the electricity surging through the pipes put me on edge. Every step we took, I grew more worried about Legs’s chance of surviving. “How is he going to heal from this?”
“We’re taking him to Xander. He’s the best medic we have,” Sari explained.
“And thankfully he’s on our side,” Jaxon finished. He stopped abruptly and held a finger to his lips. Sari and I took a collective breath as he pressed his ear to the door. Satisfied with whatever he did or didn’t hear, he nodded and twisted the bronze handle.
The room on the other side was impeccably clean, and brilliant fluorescent lights bounced off the tile floor. An older man strode across the room to where Jaxon and Sari were gently laying Legs on a stretcher. His voice was hushed as he examined him. “How long has he been bleeding?”
“Twenty minutes or so? I’m not one hundred percent positive, Xander,” Jaxon said. “We found him as quick as we could. We thought he was the only one, but—”
Xander’s sharp eyes looked up. “There was a whole team, wasn’t there?”
“How’d you know?”
“Too many shots were fired,” he said, untying the tourniquet. “You’re getting better at these, you know.”
“Thanks. Look, can you fix him?”
Xander lifted the mangled stump. “He needs a transfusion. I don’t know what type of blood he has.”
I stepped forward. “I have O-Negative. He can have mine.”
Xander’s eyes narrowed curiously. “Is this the girl Riggs sent you to get?”
“Yep.” He leaned against a metal tray filled with various surgical utensils. So much for sterilization.
Xander’s attention returned to me. “Have you had any tattoos in the past year?”
“No, what does that have to do with—”
“Have you been sick at all?”
“No, look—”
“Did the dome you came from have any viral illnesses?”
“No, can I—”
“Is there any chance you’re pregnant?”
“No!” I shouted as I stomped across the room. Pain shot up the side of my hand as it connected with the metal tray beside Xander. Everyone fell silent as I fumed. “I have a blood type that could save his life. Are you going to let me do it or not? I’m not sick, don’t have some wonky virus, and I’m not pregnant.”
“Well, that means you need some spice in your life,” teased Jaxon as he did a little two-step and winked at me.
“Shut up, Jax,” Sari and I said simultaneously. She punched him in the shoulder, which made me feel a little better.
“Very well,” Xander said, “nothing you could do would make his situation more dire anyway, I suppose.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said as I shrugged out of my jacket.
“Well this has been a fun morning,” Jaxon piped up. “I’m going to take my leave, clean up, and make sure Riggs doesn’t suspect any shenanigans.”
“I’ll go clear our images off the cameras if we were caught anywhere, then check on Alice,” Sari said. They both took off through the clear glass door on the other side of the room, leaving me speechless with this man I had barely met.
Xander answered my unvoiced question as he dug in a nearby drawer, his back to me. “Jax is squeamish of blood. Sari tries to make sure he doesn’t feel emasculated because of it.”
“I see.”
“He has a good heart, even though he seems to have a penchant for alienating anyone around him until they believe he’s stone and sarcasm. Ah, here we go.”
“What’s all that?”
He lifted his armful of medical supplies; their sterile packaging crinkled with the movement. “Eighteen gauge needle, blood tubing, and a line of normal saline. Usually we’d get blood from our stores, but as you’ve pointed out, you’re the universal donor and this is a rush job.” He laid the packages on the bed and returned to the cabinets. “I’m going to give him antihistamines to control a possible spike in his temperature. You may want to pull up a chair. This could take a while.”
I scooted over to Legs’s bedside, where he was passed out. His remaining hand appeared so lifeless and limp. I took it in my own, so he wouldn’t feel alone, if he could feel anything at all.
“We’re going to fix you up,” I whispered as I wiped dirt from his cheek, “Everything is going to be all right.”
/> “Search his pockets for identification. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“I already know who he is.”
“You do? Who is he?”
I flushed. “Well, I don’t know his real name, but I call him Legs. He’s a vendor at the market in Dome Four. We…we helped each other out, looked out for each other.”
“And I’m assuming, by the looks of it, that he looked out for you more than you looked out for him?”
Another pang of guilt. I felt heat fill my face. “That’s not true! I made sure he was taken care of. I don’t know how he ended up here.”
Xander pointed to the remains of his clothing. “I wouldn’t have imagined you a fan of the Polatzi.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why is he wearing their uniform?”
I examined the attire closer. Xander was right; his pants were military issue, and what remained of his bloody top looked very similar to the tan undershirt of the Polatzi’s uniform. I swallowed hard.
“He wasn’t a Polatzi the last time I saw him. They…they took him against his will.”
He looked at me pointedly. “That you know of.”
His comment left me with a whole new wave of questions. What if Legs was a Polatzi soldier before they took him away? Could he have been an informant all along? No. He can’t be. Right?
He walked over and stuck Legs with a clear fluid, which caused him to stir and suck in a choked breath.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Xander said with a hand on Legs’s chest. “You’ll be fine.” Xander tossed the needle on a metal tray next to him. He worked quickly, explaining as he went. “Morphine. But like I said, you may have made friends with an undercover Polatzi and never even known it. You can never trust anyone but yourself.”
“Then why would he have encouraged me to break into a government building to steal rations when he gave his away to those who needed them more?”
His left eyebrow rose. “You’re a bit of a rebel, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Well maybe,” I said, flustered. “I just don’t want people to be hungry, and I don’t have a problem taking rations from people who have more food than they know what to do with.”
He swabbed the crook of my arm with alcohol. The smell of it burned my nose. “You might have a little bit of a modern day Robin Hood in you,” he said, then wrapped my arm with a blue rubber tourniquet. “Look away if you want.”
I turned my head and felt a pinch and a sting. I breathed out of my nose, reminding myself it was better not to look. “I don’t make a habit of being delinquent; it was a one-time occurrence for a friend who’d helped me. It seems unfair that some live extremely wealthy while others live day to day if they’re lucky.”
“And how did your governor respond to the break in?”
“I think he suspected me, but he didn’t do anything. He needed me for my ability too much. Wanted me to openly support his cause to get others to fall in line.”
“And you didn’t because…?”
The rubber tourniquet loosened, and I felt the blood pulsing from the vein in the crook of my arm. I looked down, and my vision blurred for a second before I pulled myself together. “Because I thought it was a bunch of political bull crap. I was one of the few Elementalists keeping our dome afloat, and Elementalists are highly regarded in our dome. The governor wanted us on his side. I don’t like being used as a government tool, so I ignored his letters.”
Xander laughed. “I like your spirit.”
I watched the once frosty clear tubing turn red as my blood raced through. “Yeah, well, that’s a first.”
“How do you mean?”
I shrugged but then remembered the needle in my arm. “I didn’t win any favors for my so-called spirit at home.”
“You were by far the youngest in your class. Makes for a difficult situation in even the best cases.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How’d you know that?”
“Riggs does his homework before he commits to a new student; he and I are close. Although, I do have one question that bothers me.”
“What’s that?”
“If you were one of only a few Elementalists keeping your dome afloat, why would you leave? Are you so selfish you’d condemn your entire dome to death to avoid helping them, or did you not think that through?”
The accusation sent chills down my body, and my heart pounded in my chest. My mouth went dry, making it hurt to swallow. How could I respond to that? I honestly hadn’t even thought of it when it all happened—things flew at me so fast—but he was right. Had I condemned my entire dome? What would Mom and Dad think of that? I ached inside, worried now that I had caused more harm than I could ever fix.
Xander was crouched over the bloody stump, his hand rubbing the side of his face like an artist examining a blank canvas. His expression made me think he wasn’t overly confident in the condition of his patient. The heart rate monitor continued to show a steady heartbeat, and while not a doctor, I knew that was a good thing. “I can cauterize and stitch the limb as best as possible. Beyond that, there’s nothing more I can do except wait and hope your generous donation pulls him through.”
He’d moved on without an answer to his question, for which I was grateful, even though his accusation seeped through my veins like poison. Am I a deserter? “And while we wait, will Legs be ok?”
“Most of the time we run more of a catch and release program. Jax brings them in banged up, I fix whatever I can, Sari gives them food she sneaks out of the kitchen, and we send them back to wherever they came from. Mr. Legs here is a bit more of a demanding case. I’m not sure how we’re going to conceal him.”
I puckered my lips as I thought through the situation. There were so many things I didn’t know about this place. How could I help? I started throwing ideas out, hoping something would stick. “Sari mentioned cameras. She even broke one when we were trying to get back here. Are they everywhere?”
Xander frowned. “More places than we probably know. Men work hard to attain power but work even harder to retain it. It’s an exhausting process that only ends in paranoia. I believe Riggs is getting there.”
“Is there anywhere Legs could stay that he wouldn’t be under surveillance?”
A choked cough stole our attention. “Pike, don’t you go anywhere that doesn’t end up with someone in trouble?”
Xander was beside him instantly. “To be fair, you were the one trespassing, sir.”
Despite just having come to, Legs was undeterred. His voice was weak but firm, and his grey eyes were as hard as stone. His words slurred slightly, but I figured it was from the medication coursing in his veins. “I came for Pike and Alice. We had reason to believe they were here, and we were right.”
Xander put a hand on Legs’s chest when he tried to push off the stretcher. “Legs, you’ve been through major trauma. You need blood, stitches, and rehabilitation. I can help you with that, and then we can discuss Miss Pike and Miss Dobson.”
He scoffed. “A major trauma? What kind of—” He had tried to push himself upward before realizing he only had one arm. “My… my arm… ” His voice cracked. He jerked back and tried to rip off the buckles that strapped his waist to the bed. “What the hell happened to my arm? Oh my God!”
He kicked and lashed out. His foot connected with the metal tray containing the needles, scissors, and the small knife Xander had used to fix his mutilated arm. Surgical tools flew in all directions. Legs ripped the tubing from around his nose and jerked away from the monitors. “Get away! Don’t touch me!”
“You knew you lost your arm on the way here!” I yelled back. “What’s your problem, Legs? Xander’s trying to help you!”
“He doesn’t remember what’s happened to him,” Xander called as he ducked a stethoscope that Legs threw at him. “It’s normal in trauma patients! We need to subdue him!”
Panic pervaded the room and filled my pores. I thought of Riggs and how he’d lashed out
at Jaxon the night before. What would he do if he saw this scene unfolding?
Suddenly, Jaxon flew through the door and latched it quickly behind him. “What in the devil is going on?” His eyes locked onto the flailing Legs. He sprinted across the room with cat-like finesse and tackled Legs to the ground. Legs continued to struggle, but Jaxon was bigger and stronger.
A dull throbbing in the crook of my arm brought my awareness to the hole left by the needle that had been ripped out of my arm in the sudden attack. A small pulsing stream of blood snaked its way down my forearm from the open wound.
I held my bloody arm with my good hand while Xander attempted to bind Legs’s ankles together. He thrashed wildly, but Jaxon had him pinned. The only problem was that Legs found a scalpel nearby.
He swung the metal blade viciously. The hum of the steel as it ripped through the air was disturbing, but not nearly as bad as him burying it deep into Jaxon’s right forearm.
“Damn it!” he roared. “You nut job, we’re trying to help you!”
Jaxon wrapped his good arm up under Legs’s neck. He squeezed tightly, and Legs went limp.
“Well, that was completely worth missing French toast for this morning,” Jaxon complained as he pulled the scalpel from his flesh. He pulled his head away when blood started oozing from the wound. “Good God, Xander, help me.”
Xander finished restraining Legs and started reattaching the necessary tubes. I stared dismally at one of the bags of my blood laying on the ground, slashed with blood pooling around it. Tears pricked my eyes. All that work to fix Legs now spilled like a red blanket across the once-pristine floor.
Jaxon’s voice grew more urgent. “Xander, I need help. I may lose the arm.”
“Poor taste in jokes, considering the situation.”
“Nothing is more disappointing than wasting perfectly good sarcasm on an unappreciative audience. Now fix me before this blood makes me pass out.”
Xander sighed and waded through the mess of his office. “Nothing’s sterile now.”
“Hold a needle over a lighter. I don’t care, just stitch this up. I have to take Avery to Riggs.”
