Chapter 14 #3
“Oh, did I wake you? I sleep restlessly.” Derek pointed out on more than one occasion that I am a “blanket hog” and frequently kicked him in his sleep.
“Not at all. You slept quite soundly, actually.” She pauses. “You snore, did you know that?”
“Pardon me?”
“You snore. Not how Mason snores, like he’s sawing wood in his sleep, but this soft, rumbling wheeze through your nose.” The self-satisfied smile on her face is enough to make me pout in indignation. “It’s not loud, but rhythmic. I didn’t mind. It was cute.”
With an embarrassed scowl, I turn my attention to the window. “It’s snowing.”
Taylor peers over. “So it is. You like snow?”
“Yes.” I lay my head back down on her pillow. “Do you?”
“I like how it quiets the world.”
Taking that as a subtle hint, I close my eyes and return my head to her shoulder. What a strange kind of solace to find here, amidst the death and destruction. Yet, somehow, we are safe. For the time being.
“Delilah told me you flourished here in Lansing. She said you have been providing assistance to the soldiers regarding their mental health.”
“I don’t mind talking to people. And it’s not as if I’m unprepared to be someone’s secretary. I was prepping to run a region, I am capable of assisting the slapdash operation we set up.”
Taylor lolls her head to the side, her face only a few breaths from mine. “I apologize for your demotion.”
“You know, just because I’m glad you’re alive doesn’t mean you’re not a brat,” I shoot back. Taylor smirks and her eyes flutter closed, while my brain perks up. “Wait, when did Delilah tell you that?”
“This morning,” she says, like this should be obvious.
I look down between us—but there is no “between us” because I’m snug against her side, wrapped around her like red on a candy cane. “In here?”
Taylor shifts her arms. “Where would I go?”
“Oh. So, she saw that, like, I’m in the bed. With you.” My face heats up. “Sleeping in the bed. With you.”
“I told her I could not fend off your advances as you foisted yourself upon me.” When I raise my head to cast a wide, incredulous glance at her, she’s already got a smile on her face.
“She did not ask, and I did not offer. Delilah is nothing if not discreet, not that there was anything to be discreet about.”
“Well, you did wake up cuddled next to your abductee. Imagine if the newswire got ahold of that information? Missing Region Leader’s Daughter Caught In Bed With Prolific Order Assassin,” I mock, desperately trying to stave off my lingering embarrassment. “Papa would fall down dead.”
“Only because you make everything sound like a scandal.”
“It’s my gift.”
Taylor sighs and pats my hand. “Thank you for staying with me last night. And for all you’ve done in my absence.”
The gesture directs me to her arm. Although there’s no bullet hole in this one, there are pink strips of flesh raised on her skin, spiraling from mid-biceps to her wrist. “What happened?”
Rolling her eyes while the straw occupies her mouth, she takes her time sipping the water. “I know you have been helping the soldiers with their therapy. That is wonderful, but I am not them.”
I sit cross-legged on the mattress and face her.
“I’m not asking you to tell me how you feel.
I am asking what happened because I care and because I am your friend.
” She doesn’t look convinced. I try a more practical approach.
“I am also part of this operation, and if you don’t tell me, Delilah will.
So, I will let you decide how I come upon this information. ”
A stronger Taylor probably would’ve objected.
But this is a much more pliable Taylor, for better or worse.
“You know, just because I’m glad you’re alive doesn’t mean you’re not a brat.
” Taylor smirks at her own joke, but it drops from her lips when I persist in staring at her.
“I knew they were going to bomb it. I couldn’t…
They pinpointed our location and started dropping bombs.
I stayed to evacuate civilians. That is how this happened.
I heard children. I heard screaming. I knew the risk, but I could not leave without at least trying to salvage lives.
The building collapsed around us. I was fortunate to escape with my life. ”
“And the lives of others.”
“There was a lot of death. The soldier in charge of the collapse told me Dunn was still somehow smuggling orders out of his holding cell. I should have killed him.”
Horrific reports and firsthand accounts of soldiers who fought against Dunn and his Dusters make no secret of Dunn’s appreciation for violence.
Civilians slaughtered in their homes, captured Order soldiers tortured and executed, the flagrant use of bombs to crush civilians and soldiers alike.
She’s right; maybe she should’ve killed him.
“You did the right thing.”
“Mm. It’s hard to tell.” She grimaces. “Once we’d secured the area, Mason and I commandeered a jeep and left. My assumption is the ambushers were not Dusters, but separatists. They are more organized and powerful than I thought.”
“How so?”
“They were able to ambush me,” she says, incredulous.
“That is no easy task. They intercepted us at a precise point between Detroit and Lansing where there were no rest stops, and the exits are closed. The members were well-dressed.” Her eyes squeeze shut, her heartbeat monitor’s beeps increasing.
“No, that’s not the word. They were appropriately dressed for winter.
Armed to the teeth. Mason outdrove them for a while, but when they ran us off the road, I told him to stop. ”
I shake my head. “Taylor…”
“I waited until they took the first shot,” she says in meek defense.
“How many of them were there?”
“Around a dozen.”
“What about Mason’s arm?”
“A grenade went off. Mangled his arm up, we both caught some shrapnel. By that point, only three of them remained, so I picked up Mason’s assault rifle and let loose on them. They wisely decided to retreat. We managed to get on one of their motorcycles and I drove us back.”
“Fuck.” I pause. “How could you be so stupid?”
“Excuse me?” She adopts her best scathing look and voice.
I’ve developed a tolerance to her contrarian tendencies, like one does with poison by taking it in doses. “You should have kept driving. You were already wounded and you put yourself and Mason in even more peril. What were you thinking?”
“They attacked us.”
“And your training told you twelve angry, armed people were reasonable to attack?” I glare at her.
“No, Theia,” she replies, tilting her head. “I did not want to lead them right back to this outpost.”
I scoff. “I don’t believe you. You did it because of Faith.”
“They are enemies of the Order. I was well within my right to return fire.”
“Do not play dumb with me. You deliberately attacked them because you knew they were with the people who killed Faith. You made a stupid, impulsive decision that nearly cost you and Mason your lives.”
“I nearly lost my life a lot over the past few months. This was no different.”
“Bullshit. You took an uncalculated risk.” Abruptly I get out of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. “You almost died.”
“But I didn’t.”
“But you could have.” I pace back and forth around her bed. “You’re so convinced of your dispensability, but you’re wrong.”
“I know I am important to the rebellion—”
“I don’t care about the fucking rebellion!” My voice echoes in the room and Taylor clamps her mouth shut. “Sure, I care in the macro sense that I want the world to be better. But honestly, Taylor? This new world doesn’t mean anything to me if you’re not in it.”
The door swings opens and the doctor strolls in, clad in a bubblegum-pink set of scrubs and a white overcoat. He gives us a wide smile, ignoring the insanely tense vibe of the room. “How are you feeling this morning, Eos?”
“Like I got shot three times,” she responds, slowly tearing her eyes away from me to set them on the doctor. “Better than yesterday. I would like to try to walk today.”
The doctor, whose nametag reads Michael, nods his head as he reads her chart. “One thousand percent no.”
Taylor pouts. “What? Why not?”
Michael looks over at me. “I’ve got two nurses nursing injuries of their own because of this one. We had to sedate her. Not only for the operations, but because she kept leaving her bed.”
“Sounds like something you’d do.” Taylor glares at me but otherwise doesn’t respond. I’m sure this is quite true.
“While I do not doubt your tenacity, nor your strength, you will remain bedridden for another four days. You’ll be confined to this hospital for at least three weeks.”
“I do not have three weeks,” Taylor clips.
Doctor Michael shrugs his broad shoulders. “Unfortunately, you do. That is the shortest amount of time I can recommend in good conscience. You’re healing extraordinarily fast—”
“Of course I am.”
“—And you were fortunate enough to avoid major artery and organ damage. But you still need to convalesce. Otherwise, you will reinjure yourself and be back to square one.” His steely blue eyes hold mine. “Can I count on you to keep this patient in bed?”
“I’ll pin her down if I have to, Doc,” I say with a wink.
Taylor grumbles, “Unbelievable.”
“So, first we’ll eat breakfast, get you cleaned up, and run diagnostic tests.
” He checks the machines attached to Taylor, reading the output of information and jotting notes down.
“Once you’ve cleared that, I’ll get the physical therapist in here and we can attempt some limb movement.
You don’t want to overdo it in your condition. ”
Taylor is unimpressed. I’m not sure what she expected, to take sprints down the hallway? “Yeah, thanks.”
“I’ll send them up with breakfast for you both.” He offers us a genial smile, which only I return. Taylor waves him off as he closes the door behind him.
“He seems nice.”