Chapter 19
“It’s my fault,” I said, voice small, as much a question as a statement.
“No, little flower, it isn’t your fault,” my dad assured me as he knelt. Gray peppered his auburn hair. His brown eyes met mine. In the family room my mother doted on Eli while Lara followed her around like a mini version of her.
“Did I do something wrong? I wanted to help.” I messed with the hem of my pink dress, which I thought my mom would like. She hadn’t noticed. Instead, she had yelled at me when I had distracted Eli from eating.
My father brushed my auburn hair out of my face, his smile sad. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes people don’t know how to accept help.”
“Mom lets Lara help with everything,” I pointed out, anger flaring. Somehow, even at nine, I saw the divide. Lara, the spitting image of my mother, was encouraged to help while I was always in the way.
My father sighed. “Let’s go to the bakery.”
I sat in my father’s truck, a song playing in the background. I drummed my fingers to the beat.
“Sasha, it isn’t your fault. I need you to know that.” He turned down the music, my hand stilled. “Some people can be ill in ways you can’t see.”
“Is Mom sick?” My stomach flopped. Was that why she was always hurting?
“Your mom is healthy. She just has hard days.” We fell silent. My dad turned up the radio for the rest of the drive but my fingers remained still.
On the way home, I took a bite of my chocolate croissant.
“Dad, will I be sick in ways you can’t see like Mom?”
“No, you’re strong, Sasha. You’re my little flower.”
“Flowers die, Dad.”
“Above the surface, the part everyone can see, they do. But beneath, they remain strong. They come back.”
There were voices—real voices. Light filtered through my eyelids. My eyes flew open, letting the onslaught of memories fall away. Four people were hurrying down.
“Dear god.”
“Is Levi okay?”
“What happened?”
“No one talk,” Rumi ordered. “Tell us what to do, Sasha.”
I was already taking Levi’s pulse. He was still unconscious. Had he actually spoken to me? He should be improving. This didn’t make sense. The bag that was hanging was almost empty. Two bags of blood and a bag of fluids. He should be coming to—he wasn’t. I had missed something. I was moving.
“Damien, strip and take my place,” I ordered as I inspected his chest and shoulder wound. There was minimal new blood on the dressing. He wasn’t actively bleeding. I moved on.
His skin was clammy, too cold. I pulled back the blankets.
The upper right side of his abdomen was mottled, deep purple streaks running along his low ribs.
I clamped down on my panic. Levi was bleeding internally.
Had it just started? We had to get back to Haven.
He needed more blood to do that and to stay warm.
A plan started forming beyond my conscious thoughts.
“Get in. He lost a ton of blood. He needs body heat. Hypothermia risk,” I was telling Damien, but my voice felt disconnected from my body.
Damien didn’t say anything as he climbed in.
I was throwing blankets on them. “All three of you can give him blood. Rumi, you first.” Rumi was removing her layers quickly.
Someone’s sweater was thrust in my hands. I tugged it on, covering myself.
“I can give blood,” Damien was saying from under the blankets.
“You can’t. You’re B negative. You’re the one person who can’t. Just keep him warm.”
“Wouldn’t his suit keep him warm?” Patrick asked as Isla pleaded desperately, “What about us? What can we do?” She was staring at Levi in a way I had never seen her look at him. Her remorse was so potent I could taste it.
“It will, but I can’t get him into it until we set his shoulder. It’s dislocated.”
A strangled curse escaped Damien.
I inserted the catheter into Rumi’s arm.
She didn’t even flinch. I set up her bag before swapping out the hanging empty bag for more fluids.
“You two are going to help me get his shoulder back into the socket. He’s unconscious, so the muscles shouldn’t fight us.
Then we have to suit up and move. The wound is packed, but we need to get back. ”
“It’s still open? But his arm…He—he loves the mats,” Isla uttered.
“Isla, now is not the time,” Rumi advised.
“I did what I had to do,” I said.
“I know, but his arm. His health score,” Isla said frantically.
“I know.” I couldn’t give panic a foothold. “I’d risk infection closing it here. I need to get him to Kumar. Now.”
“But—”
“Are you the medic?” I demanded.
“Sunshine, stop,” Damien said.
“Sasha, we’re at the edge of the Abyss,” Patrick stated.
“No, no. You either help me get him there or get the fuck out of my way. I will not give up.”
“I’ll help. Of course I’ll help. It’s just a long ways.”
I had my stethoscope to Levi’s lungs. Isla was attacking Patrick. Damien was saying something.
“SHUT UP!” I barked.
They did. I listened. His lungs were fine. The bleeding wasn’t affecting them—yet.
The door swung open. The last members of the unit hurried down. I shoved aside my relief that Tristian and Ingrid were safe. I could hear Patrick filling Ingrid and Tristian in as Damien spoke to Levi quietly. “We’ve got you. You’re okay. Sasha’s a beast, you were right about her. She’s got you.”
Tristian was beside me. “Tell me what you need me to do for his shoulder.” It’s all he said. His eyes locked on mine like he couldn’t look at the man he had called his partner for seven years.
“Everyone eat and drink if you’re not helping,” I ordered. “We’re gonna need calories for giving blood and running back.”
“I can get it for everyone,” Isla said, already moving.
“Patrick, get the suits ready. He’s bleeding internally.
We have to go. We have to get him back as quickly as we can,” I said.
Everyone stopped for a second, the weight of what I said settling on them.
“Damien, straddle him. Keep him still if he comes to. Tristian, go to the other side.” I pulled my soaked pants from the pile next to me as I knelt. “Lift him, Tristian.”
Tristian dropped to his knees and lifted Levi’s upper body as I wrapped my pants around Levi, under his socket, near his armpit. I joined the legs together and handed them to Tristian, the blood staining his hands. “Hold these and pull toward yourself.”
I rolled up my sleeves before I grabbed Levi’s wrist, slowly pulling his arm toward me.
His muscles made the arm reluctant to release enough to manipulate the joint.
I held on as I placed my foot on Levi against the fabric of my pants that Tristian held, seeking more counter-tension. A low groan escaped Levi.
I ignored it as I pulled before starting to lift his arm. The joint shifted. I lifted higher and his arm fell into the socket. I released a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding as I slowly, gently rotated his arm. Usually, I’d stabilize it. The suit would have to be enough.
“Sasha, my bag is full,” Rumi said, bringing me back.
“Great. Everyone, suit up. I’m going to leave the line in, Rumi, in case I need another bag before we get to Haven.”
There was movement all around me. I exchanged the bags attached to Levi.
“I’ll go next,” Isla said before shoving a nutrient paste tube in my hands as she rolled up her sleeve. I had just finished setting her line when firm hands grabbed my arms, halting me.
“Are you injured?” Tristian asked. “You’re covered in blood.”
I shook my head. “It’s all his. He—he knocked me out of the way.” I pushed away the emotions that statement attempted to set free. I had to get Levi back.
“You’re bleeding,” Tristian said. I glanced down. Blood dripped from the IV line I still had in my arm, my movements causing it to shift. But that wasn’t what Tristian was referring to. There was a shallow cut beneath it from when I tried to get through the trap.
“I’ll wrap it. It’s nothing. I’ll tape the IV, in case I need to give more,” I muttered, moving toward the med bag.
Tristian stopped me. “How many have you given?” I pulled away from him, but he held on. “How many, Sasha?”
“We need to go, Hayes.”
“Answer me.”
Those green eyes bored into me, wild and demanding. “Two.”
“There are three bags, Sasha.” I glanced over. My suit was open as Patrick switched out oxygen tubes.
“I collected that in Haven, in case Damien or I got hurt. Damien can only take my blood, and I can’t take anyone’s.”
Something shifted in Tristian’s eyes. “Have you eaten anything?”
“Hayes, we have to go.”
“I know, and you’ll collapse if you don’t take care of yourself, and we will be dragging two fucking people back. Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“You’re done. The rest of us can give. You won’t put yourself at unnecessary risk. Everyone, suit up. Someone give Cadell some pants and food.”
Clothing and paste were shoved into my hands. “What of your unnecessary risk, Hayes?”
“We move out in five,” Tristian said, ignoring me. “Ingrid, help me get Levi in his suit.”
Everyone began suiting up, Isla working around the bag attached to her. I held my tongue. The things I wanted to say crawled up my throat. Now wasn’t the time. Later. Everything hinged on later.
I took Levi’s vitals one last time before Isla and Damien helped me into gear. I watched helplessly as they covered Levi’s body with his suit, until the injuries vanished beneath the exoskeleton.
My suit encased me as bile crawled up my throat.
Each click and pressure locked in every mistake I had made since the world fell to shit.
I needed…I needed…I swallowed my sob. Crying wouldn’t help me.
I packed up the med bag, making sure it was organized for the journey back as my parents’ voices echoed in my mind.
“Julia, she needs you,” my father shouted.
“Sasha has never needed anyone, not even as a young child. She never wanted to be held like Lara and Eli. She’s independent, like you,” my mother spat. “Lara and Eli need me.”
“She’s aware of how you’re treating her. She thinks it’s her fault. She’s only eleven. Why, Julia? Why are you like this with her?”
“You left, Eric. I was stuck with a colicky baby. Then you left again. I was three months pregnant and had a toddler who listened to no one, and you left me to do it all.”
“For work. Do you think I wanted to be over there and not here with you and Sasha?”
“But you weren’t. I was alone. You hurried out for that second deployment.”
“You knew what I did when we got together, Julia. Don’t play the victim in this. It isn’t Sasha’s fault I was gone. Don’t take your anger out on her; she’s a child.”
“She looks just like you.”
“Sasha, you ready?” someone in the unit was saying.
“Yes.” I pulled my helmet down, pushing away the question no one ever gave me an answer to.
Patrick was giving us a weather and radiation read, checking oxygen levels as Tristian carried Levi up the stairs, Damien following with the tarp.
They all seemed to be moving in slow motion.
I threw my pack on my back, the med bag on my front.
I followed them up as more memories tapped along the confines of my mind, waiting to pounce.
I adjusted Levi’s exposed arm, ensuring there were no kinks in the line before bundling the arm up.
The arm piece of his suit Tristian had ripped off sat in Levi’s lap.
I covered him with blankets as Tristian, Patrick, and Ingrid held corners of the tarp, ready to pull.
I quickly hit the two top buttons on my chest plate, the pressure releasing.
Cold air slithered into the crevice. I wouldn’t be protected from the radiation—not fully.
The temperature was already dropping as the sun started to sink.
I worked the bag of blood attached to Levi close to my skin to keep it warm.
I could worry about the radiation exposure later. Another later added to the pile.
“We only stop to switch bags. Let’s go,” Tristian instructed. I didn’t say anything to anyone as Tristian, Patrick, and Ingrid began to jog.
I hit the partner communication button, and Levi’s breaths filled my helmet.
We ran back to Haven.
I’d rather actively chase my death than wait for it.