by C Cato
She must have blacked out. When she opened her eyes, she was hanging in her seatbelt. The sting of gas was sharp to her dulled senses. Gas! Shakily, she reached for the buckle and released the strap. The fall was short, but everything in her body hurt. Taking a minute, she closed her eyes and checked for damage. Her chest burned.
Touching lightly, she hissed in pain. Broken ribs. It hurt to breathe, but her lungs were still working, so she counted herself lucky. Skimming fingers down the rest of her left side, she found a massive bruise forming on her hip and thigh. It would make walking difficult, but she needed to get out of the car.
The windows were all broken. Jagged, tiny shards of glass that sliced her with every movement. The passenger door looked untouched, and she tried the handle, breathing a sigh of relief when it opened without any trouble. Crawling on hands and knees and trying to avoid the worst of the glass, failing miserably, she transitioned from car to pavement and used the door of her wrecked SUV to climb to her feet.
All around her was a living nightmare.
Cars piled on top of each other, or turned on their sides or roofs. Bodies littered the ground. Some had been ejected from cars or had crawled out like her. Some people milled about, bleeding, in a daze. There were so many. How could she help so many? Somewhere nearby a child was crying and that opened the floodgates to other sounds. The screams of agony, cries for help as people trapped inside their cars tried to get out, but there was no escaping.
Gas, so much gas. It only took a small spark.
The fire started somewhere near the edge of the huge pile up, spreading with alarming speed. Sonya watched with growing horror as vehicle after vehicle fell prey to a wall of flame. The screams for help became more frantic. Someone shoved a baby through a broken windshield to a waiting woman, heedless of the damage to themselves. The woman ran away from the fire, leaving the trapped person inside to their fate. In the back of her mind, she knew she had to run. The heat of the flames moved closer, and she could smell the gas. A scent so acrid and sharp it burned the hairs of her nose. On her hands, her clothes, the puddle at her feet. Her stomach twisted and rolled. Move or die!
Just like everyone else.
“God! Please! Please help us!”
Sonya turned as time slowed. A woman in a minivan, crushed between a semi and a large pickup truck. There were faces in the back. Small faces. The fire was consuming the truck beside them.
“Please! Don’t leave us!”
Her left foot slid forward an inch.
Someone grabbed her from behind, and the hysterical face of the woman and her high-pitched cries for help were overwhelmed in the roar of the flames, the wail of sirens, and the screams of the dying.
She welcomed the dark.
oooOOOooo
“Jesus! Sonya come back to me!”
It was Cole. The faces and the blood were gone. There was no fire. He had his arms around her waist, and Sonya couldn’t manage more than short panting gasps. She couldn’t remember any of the calming exercises. Couldn’t focus. Her vision tunneled. Cold sweat trickled down her neck.
Cole pressed her trembling hand to his chest above the steady beat of his heart and with his free hand he cupped the back of her neck. He pressed their foreheads together.
“Breathe baby,” he said, softly. “Breathe with me.”
Sonya concentrated on his chest as it rose and fell until her own shaky exhales matched his.
“Feel my heart. Focus on it.”
There was nothing but Cole’s voice, the thud in his chest, and his warm breath against her face. The beat of his heart against her hand dictated the rhythm of her own.
When her pulse had resumed a normal pace, and she was no longer in danger of passing out, she buried her face in the crook of his neck. His arms tightened.
“I’m okay, I just—”
“Had a flashback. I know,” he said, stroking her scalp gently with his thumb.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, you know? How did you know how to do that just now?”
“You projected, baby,” he said. “I saw the whole thing. I think everyone did.”
“Oh no.”
“Don’t worry about that right now. It’s probably that whole network thing Ian had mentioned. For now, we have more important things to worry about. As for how I know how to deal with it, my dad was a veteran. He had PTSD. This is how mom used to help him. Can you tell me about your attacks?”
Sonya tried to wriggle out of his hold. “I need to get back upstairs.”
“No. Not yet. Ditre is monitoring the situation, but you are no good to them if this happens every time you’re near trauma.”
“I don’t want—”
“I get that,” he swallowed hard. “I also get that you’re still learnin’ to trust me. Not yet.” He winced and Sonya turned her head away, ashamed that she made him feel that way. “That’s fair, but if you hadn’t noticed the world has kind of gone to shit, and we’re all we’ve got out here.”
Sonya gave up trying to push him away. Even if she’d powered up, he would have held onto her. What she didn’t want to admit was that he was right. She was learning to trust him. Kissing him had been a huge leap for her, but this was so much more. She trusted someone with this knowledge once before, and his betrayal still haunted her 200 years later. Eventually, it would become a problem. One that could get them all killed. “Okay.”
He relaxed his stranglehold around her waist.
“I had been a doctor in the ER for eight years when I was promoted. I had just bought a house and was on my way home when the accident happened. It did something to me. After that, large traumas, or medical situations beyond my ability to handle, sent me spiraling. It probably would have gotten to the point that patients were in danger if I hadn’t left the hospital.”
“You quit because of the PTSD?”
Sonya twisted so her back was to him, and he tightened his arms again while she placed hers on top. The rain was a relaxing counterpoint to her pounding heart. “I didn’t quit. I was forced to resign.”
“Forced?”
“I was dating another doctor at the hospital. Jerod Colby.”
Cole stiffened, his arm twitching.
Sonya tried to twist and see his face, but he held her firm.
“It’s nothin’. Continue your story.”
“We’d only been dating for a couple of months. I was naive. He was the handsome older man. One night I confided in him, about the PTSD, and the next morning I was standing in front of the Board.”
Cole was quiet so long, Sonya started to get uncomfortable. When he did speak, he skirted around the subject of her ex. “Did you go to counselin’?”
“Some. I didn’t find it helpful.”
He grunted. “Before, when you were takin’ care of Elise, you started to panic. What stopped you?”
“You. I don’t know what it is about you. When I’m near you it’s like there is a buzz under my skin and only touching you will cure it. When you speak, it’s the most soothing song. Touching me... you grounded me. It’s hard to explain, but you kept me from falling back.”
“So, we’re goin’ back upstairs and I won’t leave your side. You can help those people. I know you can, and I can help you.”
Sonya nodded and sniffled, fighting back tears. “Thank you.”
He let her go, only so he could take her hand and together they went back upstairs. Ditre met them in the hall.
“It’s not good. I don’t have a way to take their temps, but I think they’re getting dangerous. The first three men are the worst.”
Sonya closed her eyes. Cole’s large hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Calm flowed through her like honey over warm toast under the heat of his touch. Ditre raised an eyebrow. “We need to cool them off, then I can assess them better.”
“Open to suggestions. They don’t have a bathroom here, so I’m guessing it’s outhouse business and well-water for washing.”
“That’s not goin
g to work. We need to immerse them. An ice bath is best, but I doubt they have a freezer full of the stuff. Ditre can you go to the barn and see if they have a way to transport things?”
“You have something in mind?” asked Cole.
“Yes. The river.”
“That’s insane,” said Ditre, stopping mid-step. “That river is way too dangerous to get close to. How many near-death experiences do you need in a day?”
Sonya pursed her lips. “I’m aware, Ditre. Do it anyway.”
He shrugged and went downstairs.
“Can you help me get them all downstairs?”
Cole kissed the top of her head, and the feeling of his lips on her close-cropped scalp sent shivers through her. “Of course.”
Together, they carried each patient to the first floor living room area. Ditre came back as they were laying the woman down.
“I found a horse and cart. I’m hoping I hitched it all right. I have exactly zero knowledge of how to deal with horses.”
“We aren’t going far. Was there some rope in the barn?”
“I think there was. I’ll go check.” He came back with two lengths of thin rope.
A short time later, they’d loaded all the adults into a medieval-style, open wooden cart, led by a large horse. Sonya steered clear of the animal. Never having been near a horse, it made her nervous.
The river was just as violent as it was when she’d jumped in. The bank on either side of the bridge rose several feet from the water. She followed the river’s edge until they reached a small inlet. The water churned in a whirlpool but didn’t have the frothy aggression of the course beyond. Sonya pulled the rope from the cart and tied one end to a tree and the other to herself. Gritting her teeth against the cold, she stepped down into the water and held her hands out.
“Bring the first one over.”
“Sure thing, Doctor,” said Ditre, working with Cole to bring one of the men down to her.
It had been a long time since someone had called her doctor and hadn’t been referring to her PhD. She’d thought that part of her life was long behind her. That she would never be able to follow her calling again. Sonya hadn’t realized how much she missed it. How much it truly defined her. Her chin lifted a little higher.
Starting with the three worst, she submerged them all one by one. Her teeth began to chatter, by the time they lifted the last person out of the water. Illustrating the nanobots weren’t proof against extremes. “We’ll need to monitor their temperatures for the next couple of days and bring them back if it goes up again.”
“Cole, tell Risa and Soren that they can bring Elise back, but that she is not allowed near the house. They’ll have to stay in the barn.”
Turning the cart for the farm, Cole was close enough for their shoulders to brush together. “Are they going to be okay?”
“I hope so, but our work is cut out for us.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sonya
Sonya was groggy and light-headed. She’d been working nonstop for two days to save Elise’s parents. Risa and Soren had brought Elise by late evening on their first night and set up in the barn. When he wasn’t keeping her from panicking, Cole had spent time with Elise. Sonya found herself liking the girl more and more. Observant and inquisitive, nothing got by her.
Twice more they’d taken everyone to the river to calm out-of-control temperatures, but one of them didn’t respond to the cool water. Worried for his recovery, Sonya determined she would need to amputate the foot of the man Elise had identified as Felix. The little sprite had given them names and descriptions to go with them, so at least she could address them properly.
“Any change at all?” asked Ditre.
Sonya glanced up from her examination and shook her head. Ditre had sheets wrapped around his head and hands, as did she. After seeing one patient, they would then go to the kitchen and wash with hot water waiting for them, but even with precautions, Sonya limited everyone else’s exposure.
“He’s getting worse. He has more bleeding in his abdomen, and his fingers have begun to blacken.”
“Then it is bubonic?”
“I believe so. It was hard to tell, but Celene and Elijah have grossly swollen lymph nodes. The gangrene was just icing on the cake.”
“What do you need from me, Doc?”
“Grab Risa. I need someone to apply warm cloths to Celene and Elijah’s necks to deal with the swelling.” Sonya stretched in the chair she’d been using to sit by Felix’s bedside. “What we’re doing isn’t enough. If we let this ride on its own, we are going to lose most of them. Maybe all of them. We need medicine.”
She leaned forward, her forearms on her knees, and rested her chin on her clasped hands. Chills broke out on her skin, and she tightened her muscles against the wave of tremors. There was no doubt Ditre could hear her elevated pulse. Cole would have to stay with her during the operation, but she’d thought she had it under control otherwise. “Can you call Cole?”
“Sure, but Soren needs to look at your comm. He should be able to fix it.”
Nodding, she stood up and paced, rubbing her hands on her thighs to wipe away some of the perspiration. “I will. Please just call him.”
She hadn’t wanted to share her issues with the rest of the team. Not even after broadcasting the worst experience of her life to them. Cole had agreed to keep what he learned to himself. A small part of her was giddy that he’d kept his promise.
“We need to make penicillin.”
“Do you have an instruction manual? ‘Cause that’s not something they teach us field medics.”
“It’s not something they teach doctors either. When I was in eighth grade, I entered the school science fair with my own penicillin that I had grown and distilled,” she chuckled, remembering the day. “All the other kids and some of the parents were grossed out by my exhibit. I won first prize. Mom was so proud.”
“I bet,” he said. Ditre was the quiet one. Every group had one. He spoke when he had to, but otherwise was a very introspective man. She liked that about him. “What do I need to do?”
“I remember there being some molding bread in the pantry, we can start with that, but I’m going to need a container and some alcohol. We don’t have the means to truly sterilize things, but it will have to do. We’re also going to need more bread and a fine cloth to strain through. Do you have an inventory of what medical supplies you still have? I’d hate to have to do this operation with a steak knife from the kitchen.”
Sonya whirled to pace across the room, retracing her steps, her breaths coming in short pants. Ditre was there in an instant, supporting her with a hand on her arm. “When was the last time you got something to eat and some sleep?”
She had to concentrate to recall. Had it really been two days since she’d staggered down to the river?
“Cole’s on his way. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up. I can put the supplies together and get everything sterilized for you while you get a little shut eye.”
“There’s no time. If we don’t—”
Ditre was already steering her out of the room. “Doc, at this point will a couple of hours make a difference? You need looking after right now.”
“Deets, I’ll be okay.” She clutched her stomach, trying to keep the somersaults to a minimum.
He beamed at her. “That’s the first time you’ve used my nickname. You should do it more, and you’re a shitty liar. It’s okay if you don’t tell me what’s going on, but don’t lie.”
That only made her hurt more. She couldn’t meet his eyes when he led her to the kitchen where Cole was waiting with a pot of boiling water over the potbelly stove. One glance and he was at her side, one arm around her waist and his opposite hand holding her nape. She buried her face in his neck. His chest rose and fell slowly. Rhythmically. She did her best to match his pace until her heart was no longer racing. Another deep inhale brought his scent. Hay and lemon, with the hint of his natural musk. It, along with his touch, helped her to relax.
“Better?” he asked, not moving. If anything, he held her closer.
“How do you do that? It used to take heavy drugs and solitude to calm the attacks before.”
“I’m not sure. I had a couple of guys on my team with PTSD. Touch used to help them too. I’m sure it’s different for everyone. Did you have these attacks when you worked with Ian?”
“No. It’s why I went into research. There wasn’t anything there to trigger me.”
Cole nodded, and cupped her partially covered face with his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “At some point, we’ll need to talk about it. Risa would be best.”
“Risa?”
Cole laughed quietly. “She got a degree while she was in the military. Psychology.”
“Oh.” That explained a lot.
He stepped back enough to remove her bandage protection and dropped them into a different pot of water that they were using to keep them as sterile as possible. They’d strung a line in the barn to give them a place to dry.
When she swiveled her head to find Ditre, he’d already gone back upstairs. Cole swooped her up in his arms, hugging her tight.
Sonya patted his chest, her laugh muffled. “Cole, I can walk.”
“Yes, ma’am. I know you can.”
How could he make ma’am sound sexy? She rested her head on his shoulder as he swept her out of the house.
She squeaked and pressed closer to him when her skin met the prickly evening air. Goosebumps broke out along her arms and exposed neck and she shivered. Cole picked up his pace, and she lifted her head and gazed around with curiosity when he didn’t immediately take her to the barn. “Where are we going?”
“You need a bath, baby. They have a bathhouse out back.”
