by Kate Tailor
Sabine turned to the strong man. “What’s your name?”
“Collin.” His eyes remained focused on the friend in his arms.
“Collin, put Rho on the cot,” Sabine ordered.
Slowly Collin lowered his friend down. The man rolled out of the blanket that encased him. Nearly naked, his body was a deathly gray, and his full lips were colored a corpse-like blue. A weak heart laboriously pumped blood through him, death dulling each beat a little more than the last. Around his neck hung a thin silver chain with a Greek letter, Rho, the name Sabine called him.
A nickname?
Sabine certainly didn’t seem the type to indulge in nicknames, ever—and certainly not at a time like this.
Trevor, the asthmatic, finally entered the room, his eyes wide. “Why is she hooked up to that machine?”
“She makes Lucidin.” Sabine worked quickly to attach tubes to Rho’s port.
“Not enough. It’ll kill her,” whispered Trevor.
Shaking her head, Sabine gave him a look. “Do you think I would harm anyone that way?”
“We have to risk it. Anything to save Rho.” Collin pointed to the on switch.
That raised Raleigh’s eyebrow and caused her to do a double take. Since Collin walked in carrying his dying friend, it was easy to paint him as a hero. Now his comments were far from noble. If anything, he was a jerk.
“It isn’t a risk.” Sabine turned on the machine. “Raleigh easily makes more than him.”
As if on cue, the machine withdrew the Lucidin from her.
“Is she his sister?” Trevor fumbled to get the inhaler from his pocket. Once in hand he took an enormous puff. Raleigh reveled in the sensation of his lungs opening. And, of course, she wasn’t Rho’s sister. They looked nothing alike, and she’d never met him before.
Watching Rho, Sabine shook her head. “No. Rho doesn’t have any sisters. Out with you now.”
“I’m not leaving him.” Collin puffed up his chest and squared his shoulders in Sabine’s direction.
“Give it time to take effect. You’re in the way here. Downstairs. All of you.” With her feet planted, Sabine pointed towards the stairwell.
Henry gave his wife a nod and ushered them out. “You stay. I’ll get them calmed down and fed.”
The three left, their footfalls creaking the steps in patterns. Once things quieted Sabine took out a box, brushed off the top, and fashioned it into a seat. “Raleigh, this may take a while. Tell me if you start feeling faint.”
Every night she extracted before bed. This wasn’t the same. She was acutely aware of the guy lying on the cot she normally occupied. He was strewn across the small bed the way his friend had left him, lying on his side with one arm extended out over the edge. Raleigh glanced at Sabine, who was spinning her rings around her nimble fingers. Then she sneaked a longer glance at the man. Ignoring the pallor of his skin, he had a handsome face, a sturdy jaw, and a thin nose. His lips were a bit larger than most, but then again it might’ve been his color that gave her that impression. There was something familiar about him, as if she’d seen him before, when he was younger. Raleigh knew that she would’ve recalled meeting him. Her eyes went to the pictures on top of the machine. His younger self was in both.
The rain gave way to a hot muggy evening. The attic was warm, but as the extraction progressed, Raleigh’s insides shuddered against the cold. Sabine sat in the corner, her brows knit in worry. Raleigh didn’t want to worry her further or stop the infusion, so she remained silent. Henry came up the steps a half hour in. Raleigh couldn’t sense him, but she heard the heavy steps of his dress shoes.
Henry stopped at the top of the stairs. “Maggie’s finished making the dinner you started. I’ve managed to calm Trevor down. The other one, Collin, is insisting that he should be up here. I think once they’re fed, they’ll feel better.” He paused and looked at the boy on the cot for a long moment. “How’s he doing?”
“Fine. He’s going to be fine,” Sabine said.
Raleigh recognized the reassuring tone. The same one her mom faithfully used—not because the situation warranted it—but because she trusted fate and the world. Henry’s shoulders relaxed at hearing Sabine’s encouragement. Perhaps the words had done their job.
“Can I bring you something while you wait?”
“No. We’ll be down in another half hour.”
Henry stared at the boy a moment longer and left the three alone again.
They used a slower extraction rate than Raleigh’s normal setting, and Rho was still frighteningly gray. This could go faster. “You can turn up the machine.”
Sabine shook her head. “I’ll give him a vial before bed. And, if you don’t mind, tomorrow we’ll do another hour-long session like this.”
“But I can give more.”
“It isn’t necessary. He won’t die tonight. Slow and steady, Raleigh. We don’t want to drain you of your strength.”
She didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree. With her Lucidin gone, she couldn’t sense Rho, but he still looked bad.
“He was a student of yours?” Raleigh pointed to the picture.
Sabine shifted on the box. “Yes, he was.”
“That was very fortunate... that one of your students happened to make Lucidin. Or was it not a coincidence?”
Guilt tugged on the lines of Sabine’s face as a tear slipped over her cheek. She diverted her eyes from Raleigh’s gaze. “It isn’t. Henry and I took up positions at the orphanage, so we could keep an eye on him and his brother Kappa.”
This was not the time for Sabine to keep secrets. “Someone drained his Lucidin. What are you not telling me? Up until now I thought that you didn’t want to discuss Lucidin because it was a failure. If someone went through the trouble of taking it from him, that isn’t the case, is it?”
After clearing the sadness from her throat Sabine spoke. “It was a failure. But people still take it. People who fall above the seventy-fifth percentile can sense. They can use it medicinally.”
Raleigh’s eyes widened.
“I wasn’t lying when I said it harms the user. People who don’t make it become dependent on it. Henry and I collected Lucidin from Rho and his brother Kappa. We had great hopes that it would change the way we approach diagnostics.”
“But it didn’t?”
“It had the potential to, but... I worked for a company named Grant and Able. They needed more and more Lucidin for their healers and their workers. It was impossible to keep up with the demand. Eventually they took the two boys from the orphanage. They said they were going to work with them, but they imprisoned them, instead.”
“Is that who did this to him?”
“I don’t know who did this. There is a black market. Usually they sell the synthetic, but they wouldn’t hesitate to do this.”
The cold was back in full force, and it wasn’t only on account of the extraction. “And this could happen to me.”
“There is a reason I told you not to tell anyone.”
This was something Raleigh should have known all along. Her hands clenched and opened. “When were you going to tell me about the danger I’m in? Why convince me to leave home? I was safe there.” What else had Sabine kept from her?
“Doctor Moore found me which meant it wouldn’t have been long before he stumbled on Grant and Able. They would’ve offered to treat you, and it might’ve appeared like a good deal, but you wouldn’t ever have been able to leave. They’d use you and your Lucidin to feed their need. This is better.”
“You should have told me!”
Sabine’s steely eyes bore into Raleigh. “If I had, you wouldn’t have come, and you’d stayed there where they could get to you. I was involved with their research for a long time. I broke amicably with them, but I’ve feared them ever since.”
“But their goal is to help people, as is yours.”
“That isn’t what they’re doing. The doctors that use the Lucidin will become addicted. There are dangers in using Lucidin to w
hich they turn a blind eye. Imprisoning Rho and Kappa was the final demonstration I needed to confirm that they are willing to do anything for the drug.”
“Am I safe here? Or am I going to end up like him?”
Sabine’s voice softened. “It was my intention to keep you safe when I brought you here. I expected one of them to reach out sooner or later. They’re who I was going to ask for a portable machine. Then I would’ve sent you home with it—once I knew that you would stop using your sensing for diagnostics.”
“That sensing is what will make me a great doctor one day. I have helped so many.”
“It will cost you. There is much illness in the world. You can’t solve it all, but they would expect you to. I’m sorry you’re angry because I didn’t tell you sooner. It was to save you from this harsh reality. People will use you and dispose of you as guiltlessly as they have Rho.”
At the mention of his name, Raleigh had the urge to study him again. “He needs more.”
Sabine placed her thin fingers on his neck. “No. He’s fine. His recovery isn’t going to happen overnight, though. It may take a few days. Now, you get downstairs and eat some dinner. Send Henry up with Collin. We’re going to take Rho downstairs and give him a bath.”
The extraction made her muscles shaky, but her frustration spurred her on. She tore the tubes from her port, disconnecting from the machine. Her legs trembled under her weight, and she edged down the steps slowly. The smell of chicken soup filled the lower level, but she had no appetite. What she really wanted to do was nap. Maybe sleep would take away the feeling of helplessness that washed over her.
“How is he?” Collin blocked her path into the kitchen.
“Sabine says he’s fine.”
“What does she know?”
“She is a doctor.”
“You look fine. Couldn’t you give him more?”
“I’m feeling weak.”
“Collin, stop it.” Trevor tugged on his friend’s arm. It did little to move Collin. “This is more than we could’ve hoped for. Let Sabine call the shots.”
“Just because you trust her doesn’t mean I do.”
Trevor leveled his eyes at Collin. “Rho does, and that should be enough.”
Collin looked like an all-American boy, which was fitting with his Midwest accent, broad shoulders, close-cropped hair, and stern, yet forgettable face. He towered over scrawny, gawky Trevor. They could both only be a few years older than Raleigh, but Trevor’s body had yet to fill in. His fingernails were ragged and short. They didn’t seem like the type of guys who’d hang out together, yet here they were. Rho was the obvious link between them.
With little patience, Raleigh interrupted their staring match. “Sabine did say that she wanted Collin and Henry to go upstairs and carry Rho down to the bathroom. She wants him to have a bath.”
“He’s awake?” The news curved Collin’s stiff shoulders.
Raleigh almost felt bad for getting his hopes up. “No.”
Henry started towards the stairs. “He needs a sponge bath. He smells awful. Where has he been?”
“Normandy,” Trevor said. “The ocean, in the mud, imprisoned, we don’t really know. We found him today.”
Collin put up his hand. “I think it’s better for all of them if they don’t know.”
“It doesn’t sound like you know all that much, anyway.” She wanted to yell at Sabine for not telling, but she’d settle for a fight with Collin. He seemed like the type always ready to do battle.
Goosebumps sprung up on Raleigh’s arm and she braced herself against the wall. Even if her mind was combative, her body had other plans. Maggie walked around the table, pressed a hand across Raleigh’s forehead. “Raleigh, you’re cold. I’ll get you a blanket and some soup. Why don’t you sit in the living room?”
“I think the extraction made me a little sick.” She allowed Maggie to lead her to the sofa and fuss over her by putting a throw around her shoulders. Collin didn’t care how Raleigh felt. He was already ascending the stairs, and Henry was slowly following him. Maggie went to the kitchen to get the soup while Trevor hung near the entrance of the room. He stared at Raleigh for a moment before going upstairs.
Maggie handed Raleigh a bowl of soup. “I’m going to get the rooms ready for our guests. Do you need anything?”
“No. I’ll eat this and go to bed.”
The world had shifted over the last hour. The time in Belgium had passed so lazily, and she hadn’t any notion of the danger. This proved her mother right. Cruelty existed, the likes she’d never seen. That bitter thought dulled the taste of the soup.
7
THAT NIGHT COLLIN refused to leave Rho’s side. His insisting voice traveled across the house, giving little doubt he would have his way. Sabine eventually gave in since it was a good idea to have someone check on Rho and give him a vial of Lucidin, if necessary. Sabine’s practice of disposing Lucidin vials every week meant they had scarcely any left. No one chided her for attempts to keep Raleigh safe. Any paranoia Sabine had about Lucidin seemed justified now given the state of Rho.
That was another thing no one was talking about—who nearly killed him. From the frantic way Collin seemed to move, Raleigh had the impression that they didn’t know. The anxious tension left little doubt that the danger had only been temporarily escaped. Any time Collin passed a window he peered out, as if expecting something. Again, their hands were tied. Their most pressing issue was to get Rho better.
Concern gnawed at Raleigh, keeping her in a light sleep. Restless, she tossed and turned, the sheets bunching up under her legs. The image of Rho’s frail body sat behind her eyelids. What if he didn’t get better? Despite how awful she felt, Raleigh wished Sabine would’ve allowed her to give him a longer infusion. Normally, Raleigh would have trusted Sabine. Now Sabine’s stoic disposition felt more secretive than contemplative.
She eventually fell into a listless sleep only to awake at three in the morning. At that hour her mind contentedly pretended nothing had happened, but she roused enough to remember. She wondered if Rho was doing better. After a few minutes she decided that she had to know—not simply to know— but to help if he needed it.
Slipping out of her room, she carefully listened for signs of life. No one else was up. Slowly, she headed towards the attic stairs. Carefully placing her foot on the first step, she eased her weight on it. She bit her lip as the step creaked. After pausing to make sure she hadn’t woken anyone, she crept the rest of the way up as lightly as she could. When she finally made it, she opened the already ajar door. Snoring and the sound of a fan hid the noise of the hinges.
Collin slumped in the chair by the window on the far side of the room where Sabine usually sat. A fan near him oscillated cold air across the room. His scratchy snores drowned out the white noise of the fan. With his legs stretched out and his arms crossed, he didn’t look comfortable. Even with his head at an odd angle, she sensed he was in the kind of deep sleep that comes after being deprived of it for too long.
It wasn’t Collin she was interested in. Raleigh crept across the room and over to the bed in the far corner where Rho slept. In the last few hours her Lucidin had been partly replenished, so she could feel his heart. It was weak. Concerned, she reached over to his neck. Cold skin and a faint pulse met her fingers. It was steadier than when he’d been brought in but still not good. He wasn’t out of the woods yet.
The only light in the room came through the windows. It was meager, hindering her ability to hook herself up to the machine. They’d dressed him in some of Henry’s old clothes and covered him in a thick blanket. Cautiously, she untucked his arm, rolled up the sleeve, and attached the tubes to the machine the way she’d seen Sabine do it. Raleigh flipped the switch on and strained her eyes to see if the noise woke Collin. It was loud, but white noise, similar to a fan. Collin remained asleep.
Sitting down on the floor, Raleigh promised herself that she’d stop the moment she didn’t feel right. With so much of her Lucidin gone f
rom the first transfusion, she had little to give. The machine smuggled it away from her, leaving her weaker with each moment that passed. Her head lolled forward, and her eyelids weighed down. Part of her knew that she should turn off the machine, but the white noise and the dreariness of her muscles beckoned her into slumber.
Raleigh dreamt of visiting the Pacific Ocean with her older brother Ben. The sky was the same dark gray as the water and she squinted to see where the two met on the horizon. Walking down the beach, the waves playfully lapped at her feet, then her calves, and up to her waist. Floundering, she reached the surface and gasped for air when the waves were low. Cold. She was so very cold.
“Wake up,” a rough voice whispered. “Please wake up.”
Eyes open, her brain processed that she wasn’t in the ocean, that it was a dream, and that she was still cold. It was no longer the dead of night. An early morning sunrise painted the room in tangerine and pink.
“Take it out.” She clawed at the port and the clammy skin of her arm. The tubes were already out. What she’d intended to be maybe an hour-long extraction had been longer.
“Are you all right?”
Raleigh turned her attention from her port to Rho who sat on the floor less than a foot away. His color had improved.
“Are you all right?” he asked again more urgently.
“Yeah, I’m all right. Just cold.”
Rho dragged the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Where are we? Who did this to you?”
“What?”
“Who hooked you up to that machine? We need to get out of here.”
“I did. I set up the extraction. It made me tired, and I must’ve fallen asleep. We’re in Belgium.”
“At Sabine’s?” He looked around, understanding easing the lines of his face.
“Yes. We’re safe.” On shaky hands she attempted to push herself up. Too weak, she lowered back down. “How are you?”
