Chapter 20
As long as I lived, I doubted I’d ever be able to recount how we made it back to Haven as quickly as we did.
How Levi was still breathing when we arrived.
Or how all of Unit Seven was still standing as I took blood from everyone.
A rotating blood bank. Everyone shed their suits for long enough to give blood.
If anyone worried about the consequences of the radiation exposure, they didn’t mention it.
They gave themselves to Levi without a word.
Everyone except Damien—he gave in every other way that he could.
It was nothing that could be changed. He wasn’t a suitable donor and yet being excluded ate at Damien.
He did everything he could to make up for it, carrying whatever people shed as I drew blood, pulling the tarp through gritted teeth as he pushed his ankle too far.
When I tried to approach him about it, he completely dismissed me, carrying on—surviving.
We all were.
Oxygen tanks were changed at each outpost. Water guzzled, food shoved down before we were running once more in the dark.
I swore I saw a star peer through the gray clouds at one point.
I couldn’t stop to be sure. I outran memories and bartered with the god I had renounced.
Offering anything, everything, in exchange for Levi’s life.
Maybe I’d live long enough to regret what I offered up.
Maybe it didn’t even matter. I doubted anyone listened to my desperate prayers anyway.
The unit pushed through, but our movements were sluggish, breaths past labored.
No one complained or voiced their exhaustion.
No one considered stopping, but in the last five hours everyone had switched to partner communication, the unit communication silent, as if in our reserves, our most vulnerable desperation, we could only stand the voice of our partner to get us through.
I didn’t know what they said to one another.
Was it encouragement, shared sorrow, anger?
I didn’t know. My partner remained quiet as I begged him to hold on for them, for me. I told him how they were all trying.
Rumi ran close to Patrick. He carried two packs, his hand on Rumi’s elbow as if to guide her as she struggled. The others pulled. Isla and Damien tugged next to each other, arms touching, like their combined efforts could make up for the evident deterioration of Damien’s ankle.
Ingrid and Tristian still held the tarp. They had carried the brunt of pulling the entire way back. Neither took breaks. Ingrid matched Tristian’s energy and effort, barreling through exhaustion undeterred. Was she haunted by her race back with Lily?
Tristian carried three bags while he pulled. He had donated twice. I wondered where his well of strength came from as I kept their pace, keeping the line straight for Levi’s transfusion.
Three suited figures ran toward us as we approached the buildings that surrounded Haven. I wondered if someone had actually heard my prayers. We switched over to the group communication to hear it was the oddest trio—Henderson, Abbott, and Jaxon.
Tristian was the only one to talk, directing the others as we kept moving. No one said a word about a member outside of an Exploratory Unit coming above. I didn’t have it in me to care, to even look Jaxon’s way. We were almost to the Ward.
“He was at the shack,” the gruff voice, Henderson, stated. “He offered to accompany me. I didn’t care who it was. I just wanted to help. Do you need more blood, Medic? I’m O positive. Happy to help however I can.”
I felt the bag against my chest; it was still half full. What bag were we on? “No, I need someone to tell Dr. Kumar to be ready. He’s bleeding internally. He’s A positive. Right delt and pec laceration that need closing. Possible liver lac.”
“I’m fast. I’ll run ahead and tell him,” Wilma was saying, staring at Levi before she turned and sprinted, her arms pumping.
“Grab the tarp,” Tristian said to Jaxon and Henderson. “Take Cruz and Isla’s places. We need fresh legs. Ingrid, do you need a break?” Tristian adjusted his grip.
“No, let’s run.”
I switched back to my partner communication. Levi’s breaths filled the helmet. “Just a little bit longer. Hold on, Levi. Please.”
We entered the holding box several minutes later, our helmets tossed aside. Tristian bent down, gathering Levi over his shoulder. “Can you run, Cadell?”
“Yes.” My legs shook, but I ignored them.
“Unit is yours, Sato,” Tristian said without a backward glance as he took off to the Ward.
I kept up, my hold on the bag I had taken out firm, but my hold on myself slipped through my grasp. The sounds of the Ward surrounded me, and I was bombarded by my past mistakes, mixing with every confession I had witnessed within these walls. They swallowed me whole.
“Death’s Angel, Commander Hayes. Hurry. Tell me everything.” Kumar rushed toward us.
I grappled at the tattered remains of who I once was, pulling myself together enough to tell Kumar everything he needed to know.
I conveyed every choice I had made, except one, as Tristian got Levi out of his suit, tossing the pieces to the ground.
Kumar was moving, barking orders at those in aprons.
“I will take it from here. I’ve got him. Good work.” Kumar was moving, more people dashing in.
“You need to leave here,” someone was saying to us. I didn’t fight as they ushered us out, each step toward the exit heavier than the last.
“Wait.” I turned to see a man in an apron rushing toward us. “Dr. Kumar says you both can wait in his office.”
Tristian pivoted as I continued toward the exit, any remaining strength escaping me.
“Have him send word. I’ll be right back,” Tristian was saying behind me. His sure steps followed me. A gentle hand grabbed my arm, pulling me down a tunnel I knew and into the closet. All I saw was me carrying Lily to the Ward to die. Had I just done the same thing?
The sound of a door shutting was too loud. My own breathing grated my shattered nerves.
“Sasha—” Tristian said too kindly. I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t accept it. The hand on my arm was covered in dried blood, Levi’s blood. There had been so much blood…Little details I had pushed aside in the moment filled the closet. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. “Sasha, tell me what you need.”
I was shaking—my soul unmoored. The consequences of our herculean efforts devastated my will. Both of Tristian’s blood-covered hands held my suited arms. “I’ve got you. Breathe.” His hands found my face, gently cradling me.
Tristian was saying something else that sounded like gratitude. His thumb rubbed against my cheek. The metallic smell stung my nostrils. I waited for the beast to pounce, but it didn’t come. It remained silent. My hands found Tristian’s arms as I pushed him away and met his exhausted gaze.
“You went below alone,” I said, my voice raw like I had been screaming. “We got Ingrid’s call. You went below alone. We changed direction to get to you.”
The confession decimated my insides. Tristian withdrew. He opened his mouth, but I couldn’t hear it any more than I could tell Tristian why I had urged us to change directions—that I had waited before and lost.
“You said we all come back as one.” My voice trembled. “We were coming to help you. I made the call to help you.”
Something shattered in his green eyes. It was the last thing I saw before I ran from him. I jogged back to the living quarters, beelining for the bathroom. I struggled with the suit, my mind and body somehow disconnected as if I were watching myself from above.
Rumi slipped in and began pushing buttons on my suit to help me. Her wide eyes found mine. “Your chest plate. You disconnected it above.”
“Don’t tell the others,” I heard myself say.
“You were exposed to radiation.”
“Don’t tell the others,” I repeated. She nodded, taking the pieces of my suit outside, and shut the door, leaving me alone.
I stumbled to the sink as my entire body shook violently. I remained silent as I gave in, trembling head to toe, my mouth clamped tightly closed as bile crawled up my throat. Quietly, I stopped holding myself together.
My reflection in the small mirror reflected the beast I hid within.
Dried blood coated my body. Dark circles sat heavy under my eyes, my face peppered with tiny cuts from Levi pushing me out of the way.
New bruising mixed with the pale green remains of my bruise from Murray.
My hair was matted to my scalp, the rest a tangled disaster.
My left arm ached horribly. I glanced down to see more bruising.
My IV line had dug into my skin. I removed it and my makeshift bandage as I climbed into the shower.
I had caused this. The cold water washed away the blood until the tile was painted red. I watched crimson remnants circle the drain before disappearing. My insides were a raging fire, burning everything. Destroying me. I let it, waiting for the creature I resembled to devour it all.
It didn’t come. Nothing came. Only my internal screaming. I had tried for Unit Seven. I had begun to care. Again.
Finally, I shut off the water. Hollowness tumbled in with me as I finally fell into my bed—the room empty. I was alone, but not for long as ghosts kept me company while I slept.
“We should start including Lara in these lessons,” my father told me. He hovered over my shoulder, watching me attempt sutures from his med kit. He claimed I might need to know how in case one of the kids got hurt. I had told him he could do it, but he insisted that I learn.
My hand slipped at the suggestion, ruining the suture. “But this is our thing. Lara has Mom.”
I didn’t want to share this with her. This time was mine. My father took the fleshy-like practice pad from me, undoing my work.
“It would be good for you to have someone else who also knows these things,” my dad suggested.
“I have you.”
“And if one day I’m gone? What will you do then?”