He tried to brush a strand of hair away from her face, but it was mired in the blood smeared across her face. Whose blood she couldn’t say. Max’s blood. My blood. What does it matter?
“There’s nothing more you can do for him,” Justin said.
One word out of a whole sentence stabbed at her, pulling her out of her hushed misery. “More?” The word grated her throat like sandpaper. “More? I couldn’t do anything for him. Not a goddamn thing.” She held up her crimson hands. “I expected to do nothing at the hospital. I expected them to die because I wasn’t allowed to do anything.”
Rue raised a fist to wipe off the blood seeping down her cheeks, but her hand came away covered in tears.
“He shouldn’t have had to die.” A sob broke free. Justin pulled her against him and she shuddered against his chest. She needed comfort. His was as good as anyone else’s.
“This is why we need you, Rue. Too many of our people shouldn’t have to die. None of them get the chance even Max had.” His lips moved against her hair, even as she stiffened against him. “Maybe after this you’ll see there’s no other course for you to take. You have to help us.”
Everything in Rue froze into place in an instant. Justin’s uncle lay dead beside them. The man’s body wasn’t cold yet. And already his nephew’s mind had focused on his own objectives. The explosion… Max’s death… All very tragic, to be sure. But Justin would make it serve a purpose. If there was such a thing as an afterlife, the older man was probably smiling at his kin’s brilliance.
“Good job,” she said against his neck.
“Pardon me?”
She pushed away from him and shook her head. The words weren’t worth repeating. Nothing she said would change Justin. He was who he was. And as she had thought while Max died, the choice was out of her hands. She couldn’t walk away from these people, no matter how much she wanted to.
Rue heard the gasp before she registered the steps.
“What do…? What are you…? What did you do?”
Justin jerked farther away from her, revealing Shiraz. The poor girl’s face was turning a shade of red to match her birthmark, and the mark itself had deepened to purple.
“Max is gone.” His voice was gentle as if to soften the blow. No matter what he did, it wouldn’t have mattered to the girl. Her mouth opened and closed like a beached fish—exactly how Shiraz must’ve felt.
“What did she do?” The girl wasn’t pointing any fingers, but she could’ve been poking a sharp stick in Rue’s chest for all it mattered. Every word was an accusation thrown.
“I tried to save him. There was too much damage… Without the right equip—”
“Shut her mouth, Justin. Make her stop talking.” Shiraz’s voice quivered. She turned her dark eyes toward Rue. “Get away from him.”
Rue wasn’t sure if the girl meant Max or Justin. She lowered the older man’s head gently to the concrete and extricated herself from the younger man. Right then, Shiraz didn’t want to hear excuses. Too many times, Rue had witnessed people consumed with grief they weren’t supposed to feel about a deceased patient they weren’t supposed to love. Here was the Unequal equivalent—a person who loved out loud because she could and as such, could grieve the way a woman was meant to. Nothing Rue did would ease the pain.
And judging from the way Shiraz was glaring at her, anything she did would simply make the pain worse.
Rue nodded at Justin before she rose and started toward the glass doors. Her first step was normal enough. The second tipped her to one side and onto the rooftop. Laying there looking at the potted plant Hubert had so lovingly tended, ripped to shreds and slowly dying, she wished she could join both plant and planter.
Tender hands turned her onto her back. Justin stood over her, his eyes filled with concern. For one moment, she could pretend his concern was for Rue Logan before she forced herself to look at the reality. He wasn’t concerned for her. He was concerned for his cause’s new doctor.
“I’m fine,” she said, pushing at him.
He scooped her into his arms as if she hadn’t said a word. Behind him, Shiraz made a weird choking sound, but he ignored her, too. Without a second glance, he carried Rue away from the scene and the rooftop.
As they reached the doors, she heard Shiraz’s strangled sob.
Add one more casualty to the war, Max. And I can’t do a damn thing to help this one either.
The hallway they entered was curiously quiet. With an event of such magnitude, the whole building should’ve come running. Instead, the building seemed empty.
“Did you evacuate everyone?”
Justin shook his head against her hair. “Everyone’s down one floor. It’s why Raz took so long to find someone.”
With the rooftop shredded, the floor below had to be a horror show. Those were homes. People may have been sleeping or eating or just relaxing.
“Put me down.”
“I’m taking you to a room where you can rest until I find help.”
Sitting up in his arms, she stared at him as though he’d grown a third eye. “You’re holding the best help you have. Remember? I believe it’s the reason the two of us were out in the garden. And why Max… Put me down.”
He held onto her tighter, as if her struggles might cause him to lose his grip.
“I’m not an idiot. I’m hurt. I get it. But there might be people downstairs who are hurt worse than I am.” The muscle along his jaw twitched. “You brought me here to be your doctor. It was probably your idea to have Max take me out for a little chat. Well, don’t let his effort be in vain.”
Her words must’ve convinced him. He lowered her to her feet, keeping a steadying hand at her waist. Rue shrugged away. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I have a job to do.”
SIXTEEN
By the time Rue finished with those patients she could help, her headache had turned into a dull murmur behind her every action. Breathing was pain. Walking was pain. Treating every bloody wound was pain. As long as she kept moving, the pain stayed in the background. Once she stopped, the simple act of standing was almost too much.
Throughout it all, Justin hovered at the edge of her peripheral vision. Each time she called out for something, he handed it to her. Sometimes, he anticipated what she might need. Other times, he shook his head, telling her quietly they didn’t have opiates to ease the pain or the last splint she used was the last one they had.
At one point she glimpsed Crispin, but he shook his head at her and turned away. The reproach in his eyes didn’t need to be made vocal. He was with Shiraz in blaming her for the death of their previous leader.
As she went from patient to patient—from one bloody mess to another—she held enough reproach for all of them. The more she mulled over the scene on the roof, the more she had to admit they were right, but probably not in the way they thought. If she’d been a better doctor, she would’ve understood not to use such a loosely woven fabric to stem the blood flow. If she could’ve shaken Shiraz out of her stupor, she could’ve used the girl to get supplies. If they’d had supplies…
If. If. If.
If her brain hadn’t focused on helping victims of a blast she couldn’t remember well, she would’ve fallen apart. Whatever mistakes she made with Max, she couldn’t let them lead to more mistakes and more deaths.
In the end, eight people had been lost to the explosion. Max died on the roof and the rest died as they ate lunch in the apartment below. The injured numbered twice as many. Lucky for them all, surgery wasn’t needed for more than two. She wasn’t sure, with the unsterile conditions she was forced to work in, they would make it through the night, but they at least had a fighting chance.
As every muscle in her body threatened to revolt, she surveyed the makeshift Intensive Care they set up in one of the common rooms. Those patients with the lightest wounds were already on their way to their own beds. The few who needed watching were here, in beds pulled from the apartments of their compatriots. Her worst patients we
re settled together in a corner where they’d have the least interruption to their recovery.
One last bed was left empty. Sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, Rue wondered if she would ever muster the energy to climb into it. Maybe for this one night, she could manage sleeping on the floor. As far as she could tell, it wasn’t much worse than her tiny bed in the basement.
But, oh, how she longed for her thin mattress and those stolen blankets. It wasn’t much of a home, but it was hers. And she’d never see it again.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. She let them make tracks and dry in itchy strips. They were reminders of Max. And of Hubert. They were tributes to the dead and the injured from a blast no one expected and no one could explain. And, finally, if she was truthful with herself, she admitted they were marks to remind her of Uncle Howard and how much she had lost in so short a time.
“So noble. We go through all the trouble of leaving a bed for you and you choose the floor.”
Rue didn’t want to see the anger on Shiraz’s face. She didn’t have the energy to stand against the hate she’d see in those eyes. If she could’ve chosen, she would’ve stood and walked away rather than deal with this torn and broken child. The problem was she didn’t have a choice. She would’ve been lucky at that point to sit up straight. The best she could manage was a little less slumping.
She didn’t want to raise her eyes and look at the woman who was barely more than a teen. To do any less, though, would’ve been an affront she couldn’t afford to make. Shiraz didn’t deserve a show of disrespect after all she’d gone through.
“Did you hear me?” the girl said.
Rue forced herself to meet eyes hard with rage. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the bed, but…” She lifted one shaking hand. “It’s about as much as I can manage. Let someone else have a place to sleep if they need it. The floor’s fine.”
“It’s more than you deserve.” Shiraz’s words finished the statement Rue hadn’t wanted to voice. “You were supposed to save him.”
Another nod would’ve been rude and not nearly enough. “Yes. I was supposed to save him. And I didn’t.”
“I suppose you’re going to make some excuse about this not being a hospital with all the junk you’re used to. Maybe you’ll say you could’ve saved him if I’d been faster.” Shiraz’s eyes shined with barely restrained tears. It seemed as if Rue wasn’t the only one harboring a feeling of guilt. She longed to reach out to the girl, to share the pain they both felt and maybe lessen it a little. But the knives shooting from Shiraz’s gaze halted her. Perhaps there’d be a better time later.
“I’m sorry.” But those words could never be enough.
Shiraz scoffed. “Some doctor Justin brought for us. You’ve already gotten two of us killed.”
“And she saved two who would’ve died without her.” Crispin melted out of a shadow into Rue’s line of sight. How long he’d been standing there, she couldn’t begin to guess.
“It’s not a fair trade. How many more is she going to let die?”
“How many more is she going to save?”
Rue shook her head at the two of them. “Enough.” It must’ve been the steel in her voice halting them because she didn’t have any authority over anything. Almost as one, they turned toward her. “There’s been enough fighting for one day.”
The duo was cowed for a moment.
Shiraz was the first to recover. “One day? You’ve been here for one whole day and you’ve already had enough fighting?” Her hand swept out to encompass the city. “I’ve been fighting my whole damn life and it isn’t enough.” She took a step toward Rue, who didn’t have enough will left to dodge a blow if it came. “You’re pathetic. I told Justin this was a bad idea. I told Max to forget he ever found you.”
“Feels good to be proven right, does it?” The words came out of her mouth before she could choke them back. Provoking this girl wouldn’t do anyone any good, but she couldn’t sit and take it anymore. “They should’ve listened to you. They didn’t. Now you’re stuck with me.”
Rue’s anger slid off Shiraz like rain on an oil slick street. “So you’ve decided to stand up for something?” And with that, the girl turned to walk away. As she slipped into the darkness, words drifted over her shoulder. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Once Shiraz was gone, Rue was stymied. “What just happened?”
“What happened was Shiraz being Shiraz.” Crispin held a hand out to help her up, but she shook her head. Accepting her wishes, he dropped to the floor beside her. “Max always said she was as changing as the winds. The sooner you understand the better off you’ll be.”
“Max came to be a father to her.” Rue’s heart sank at the realization. “And Margaret came to be her mother. If I was Shiraz, I’d curse the day anyone found out about Citizen Doctor Mason.”
“Try Citizen Child Logan. Max first got wind of you then.” She couldn’t keep the shock from her eyes. Crispin only smiled. “It might’ve been the Equalization Test you failed as a baby, come to think of it. I’d have to read your file again to make sure.”
“That was a long time ago. If he was aware of me then, why didn’t he come for me before?”
Crispin’s head tilted to one side. “The one person who knows… knew the answer… And well, he’s…” He let the rest of his statement hang in the air. He didn’t need to tell Rue the rest. Only Max knew and he wasn’t talking to anyone ever again.
“Thanks to me.”
“Don’t you start. One person believing you were responsible is more than enough.”
She remembered the reproach in his eyes earlier. “Don’t you mean two? You seemed ready enough to believe it earlier.”
He didn’t bother denying it. “I was in pain. Max hadn’t been our leader for a long time, but everyone here loved him. Sometimes, I believe they loved him more than they love Justin.”
“Max was gentler.”
To her surprise, her companion laughed. “Not by a long shot. If he wanted something, he was ruthless. He was simply more of a statesman than his nephew. Maturity will bring Justin to the same level, but now, with him on his own… He might not have the chance to gain Max’s wisdom without Max around to show him where it is.”
“I didn’t know him for long, but he didn’t seem ruthless to me.”
Reaching up, he brushed a strand of hair behind Rue’s ear. “To the Unequal, he was incredibly kind. People like you and Shiraz, he’d do anything for. He saved all his ruthlessness for the DOE and their supporters.”
“All the more reason for him to hate me.”
“Because of your uncle?” Crispin shook his head slowly. “Max was never one to hold someone’s family against him. If he did, he’d never have an ally again. So many people either work for or support the DOE we’re all related to someone in some way. Well, except Shiraz. As far as anyone can figure, she’s not related to anyone anymore.”
Rue’s heart clutched up against her ribs, as if trying to avoid the beating it was taking. Guilt was the least part of it. To not have anyone, or the memory of anyone, who was part of your own blood was the saddest thing Rue could envision. She was related to the head of the DOE, but she retained memories of how much her uncle once loved her. She had memories of a mother who once cared for her so deeply she was willing to cross her own husband. Even her father had been warm and protective in his own way. The horrible things he did were his means saving her.
Who cared about Shiraz?
“Blood isn’t always the best way to define family, though, is it?” he said, breaking into her thoughts.
“No matter what he has become, Howard Winston is my family.”
“No.”
The syllable shook Rue enough to make her sit up straight, despite the pain. If he’d turned into a monster, she couldn’t deny the blood between them.
“Relax,” Crispin continued. “I don’t mean he never was anything to you. I simply believe blood isn’t always the ultimate way to define
who’s family and who isn’t. Take Raz, for example. She may not have any blood relations, but she has a family. She had a mother and a father. She’s got brothers.” He poked a thumb into his own chest. “She has sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles. If you think about it, those are way more relatives than the Equalization Laws allow anyone to have any more.”
He did have a point. If her parents had other siblings, Rue never learned. If their parents—her grandparents—had siblings themselves, she would never find them. Once a child reached maturity and was assigned a spouse, the idea of extended family was disappeared the same as any other potential factor contributing to making someone Unequal. That her Uncle Howard had been allowed to stay in contact was a fluke—an aberration brought about by some loophole in the Equalization Laws.
This group of Unequals had created some kind of family with each other, and the idea was more comforting than Rue would’ve guessed. She never dared to dream of having siblings. She never hoped to see her parents again. As the DOE wanted, she had been divorced from all her familial ties. If they never made her Equal in other ways, they had forced her to be an Equal in that.
Crispin’s hand on her shoulder shook her free from her memories. “You should probably try getting some sleep.”
“I was halfway there when Shiraz paid a visit.”
“I meant in the bed. You don’t have to whip yourself half to death by sleeping crouched on the floor.”
Rue was half-tempted to let him continue to assume guilt kept her on the floor. It was better than showing him she was too sore to move. If he was half as concerned as Justin had been earlier, he’d insist on having someone else look at her. In the end, though, there wasn’t anyone else, so what could keeping up pretenses do her?
She held up the same shaking hand she’d shown Shiraz. “I’m too tired to move. The floor works, and it’s not too big a step down from where I’m used to sleeping.”
“You mean your mattress in the basement? You slept there because you had to. You don’t have to live that way anymore.” Before she could protest, he stood and pulled her up beside him. With one deft motion, he swept her into his arms. “Now, you’re going to bed, and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Unequal Page 13
