3. The Base
CHAPTER THREE
THE BASE
“So, what should I know?” I asked. Somehow, I’d made it past the White House gates without incident and was settled into a seat on a small private plane across from the lieutenant governor. A private nurse came with us to monitor my condition during the flight. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this fragile, physically or mentally; I think I made the trip from the medical center to the airfield through sheer force of will. They’d had to send police out to part the crowd like Moses and the Red Sea so we could get through, but we made it.
Ashamedly, I’d been so overwhelmed that I hadn’t even thought to do some Googling in preparation the night before. The public didn’t know much about the fae or their royal family—only what had been leaked by daring journalists who caught a peek during their visits to this side of The Rift. When The Rift first opened, people coped as best they could. Some people stuck their heads in proverbial sand and lived like nothing had changed. Others literally worshiped the fae and prayed that they’d be taken away from here to live on the other side with them. While I fell somewhere in the middle, everything I knew was due to the major news outlets and a handful of blurry photographs. Who knew how accurate that would be ?
The more I thought about what was coming, the more my nerves got to me. I’d slept little, haunted by the recurring nightmare of what happened the last time I left the White House grounds. I tried to think of the positives—I was going through The Rift to meet the fae (!!)—but that hadn’t been enough to distract me from the weight of impending doom.
Vivian’s gaze fell on my right leg, which bounced in agitation.
“First off, take a deep breath,” she ordered, not unkindly. “I know it seems like a lot, but we’ll handle all the important stuff. You just need to focus on your health.”
I nodded but made no attempt to take a calming breath. Does that ever work?
“In case George didn’t mention it, the issues with your abilities should stay on a need-to-know basis.” Vivian turned to the open window before answering my initial question. “Let’s see. The North American section of The Rift runs from Missouri to Ontario. There’s an opening over Lake Erie, on the grounds of what used to be a National Guard training facility called Camp Perry. Over the past few years, it was converted to a military base for Rift-related matters. The area is guarded at all times; you’ll be safe there.”
“Oh.” Helpful, but not what I was hoping for. “I appreciate that. But I was thinking, what should I know about the fae? I don’t want to offend anyone accidentally.”
Vivian hesitated a beat. “They’re… perfect. Highly intelligent and physically faultless. They speak fluent English. Like George said, they’re polite, but guarded. As a result, we don’t know much about their culture. We know they are religious and don’t eat meat. And magic is widely used, of course, though they don’t tend to use it in our presence. They’re governed by a royal family: a king, queen, and two princes.”
“Princes, huh? Are they hot?” I thought a light-hearted joke might serve to ease some of the tension. Going by the images floating around, it was a perfectly fair question. Instead of sharing a laugh with me, however, Vivian served me a look that had me shrinking in on myself. “Um, never mind. Have you been to the other side of The Rift before? What’s it like there?”
“Hmm. I would say it’s reminiscent of the European countryside.”
“... Say that you were talking to someone who’d never been to Europe?”
“Oh. Well, it doesn’t feel that fantastical, just different. The terrain and flora are very similar to what we have here. The same colors generally exist in nature, and they experience seasons as we do. There’s no technology—they get around using riding beasts like horses. Many of their animals are similar to ours but more intelligent. It can be disconcerting?—”
Vivian stopped and glanced up as the nurse approached.
“We’ll be taking off momentarily,” she said cheerfully, drawing a small cart alongside us. “The flight will be a little over an hour. How are you feeling?”
I nodded. “Not bad, a little tired. Mostly, I’m just nervous.”
“May I?” the nurse asked, pulling out a blood pressure cuff. I presented my arm, and she wound the cuff around my bicep and inflated it with the flick of a switch. After a moment, she removed the cuff and jotted something down on a pad of paper. She took my temperature, made another note, and offered me a small smile.
“You’re good to go,” she announced, stowing her cart behind the seats and claiming the open spot next to me. “When we touch down, there will be a medical transport ready to escort you the rest of the way. You might feel a bit faint when we take off. If at any point it gets overwhelming, or you’re in pain, let me know.”
“Will do, thanks.” I turned back to Vivian, intending to continue our conversation, but she examined the view outside her window in a way that told me my chance had passed. My shoulders dropped in disappointment. I played it off by fiddling with my belt buckle and pulling it tighter over my lap. The flight was short and uneventful, with the nurse making small talk with me for most of it. When we landed, the nurse took my temperature and blood pressure again, proclaimed me unlikely to die within the next five minutes, and helped me to my feet.
The pilot saluted Vivian on the way out. By the time we descended the steps, the medical transport had pulled up alongside the plane. Vivian got into one of two SUVs, and the nurse helped me into the back of the transport. It was like a smaller, more luxurious ambulance, with a cot in the middle, plush bench seating on one side, and cabinets labeled with medical supplies.
The cot didn’t look comfortable, but I was already exhausted, so I elected to lie down when the nurse asked me what I would prefer. She clipped a heart rate monitor to my finger as the car took off. In moments, I was lulled to sleep by the purr of the engine.
“...ry? Avery, we’re here.”
I was startled awake at the sound of my name. It took me a moment to recognize that the person giving me an apologetic smile was the nurse I met on the plane.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” she said, disconnecting the heart rate monitor from my hand. “We just arrived at the base. Can you walk, or would you like us to wheel you there?”
“I can walk!” I hurried to sit up. As I did so, my vision swirled, and the nurse put a hand out to support me before I went toppling over. She gestured to someone out of sight.
“I think we’ll get you that wheelchair anyway. But feel free to take a moment to get your bearings,” she suggested. “We’re in no rush.”
I blinked in rapid succession to shake off the dizziness. It was hard to tell at this point if the butterflies in my stomach were a sign of something physically wrong with me or simply more nerves, but it was easy enough to ignore. When I felt comfortable enough to stand, the nurse helped me toward the back of the transport, where a guy in a paramedic uniform waited with a wheelchair.
“Welcome to Camp Perry,” he said good-naturedly, holding the wheelchair still as I got settled in.
“Ah, thank you,” I replied awkwardly, grateful for both the warm welcome and his support. As we ambled along, I had the chance to take in my surroundings. The road we came from was flanked by empty fields. The open space felt so freeing compared to the city, like I could just take off anytime I wanted and run for days.
Well, if I weren’t dying, anyway.
In the distance, the fence surrounding the property held back a large group of people. While nowhere near the amount that always waited for me at the White House, it was still an impressive number. Somehow, I managed to hold it together; in my condition, it was a miracle I didn’t break down at the sight. As it was, I couldn’t hide a grimace. “How did they know I’d be here?”
The paramedic slowed to follow my gaze. “Hm? Oh, they’re not here for you. Those are the fanatics and missionaries who want to go through The Rift. Hope springs eternal, even if civilians aren’t allowed access.”
“Oh.” It was a small relief, but enough to ease some of my tension, for which I was grateful. I hadn’t even thought about that, but it made sense.
A cold breeze whistled by, and I shivered involuntarily, moving my free hand to gather the front of my jacket closed. It had been warm in D.C. the past few days, but it was still not quite spring, and the air in Ohio had a noticeable chill to it. Perhaps I should have packed more layers. I wasn’t sure what to expect; with what little Vivian had told me, there was no anticipating what the weather would be like on the other side of The Rift.
“Well, this is it.” Speak of the devil. Vivian came up from behind me, and I followed her gaze to the immense concrete building before us. The stale gray color theme and limited number of windows made it appear like a prison. Uniformed personnel hung around outside, lending to that vibe. Vivian gestured to a well-traveled dirt road between buildings. “We’re waiting for the go-ahead from the fae envoy, so we probably won’t be leaving until tomorrow morning. The guest clinic is just down that way. You’ll be housed there in the meantime, where the physician on staff can keep an eye on you.”
“Tomorrow?” My voice came out a squeak. “Um, I mean, so soon?”
The tension returned with a vengeance. I had expected weeks of navigating the bureaucratic red tape before a date was even set for my trip through The Rift. Was my situation truly that pressing?
Vivian pinned me with one of her signature stares, but her expression softened at whatever she saw on my face. “Whether you realize it or not, your well-being is a priority for the American government,” she advised. “If this is all too much for you, you’re still welcome to back out.”
I understood what she was saying—or, more importantly, what she wasn’t. “I get it,” I replied quietly. I didn’t need to be babied; I knew what was at stake. “No, I’m not backing out. I appreciate everyone’s efforts. It’s just… a lot to take in.”
“It would be for anyone,” Vivian acknowledged. She glanced down at her watch. “Get some rest,” she suggested. “Your things should be delivered shortly, along with something to eat. I’ll be around if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it. As she strode off, I turned my attention to the direction of the medical building and remembered that the paramedic was still there, ready and willing to push me the rest of the way. “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I exclaimed, embarrassed by my lack of awareness.
“You’re fine.” The paramedic laughed. “We’re supposed to be keeping an eye on you. Come on, let me help you to the doc and get you tucked in.”
My cheeks warmed. “That won’t be necessary,” I groused, but let him guide me nonetheless. The clinic was a short walk from where we had been dropped off, and I was able to make the trip without incident. An enthusiastic nurse in military scrubs greeted us at the entrance. “Welcome to Camp Perry!” she exclaimed, hurrying to prop the door open so that we could make our way inside. “Come in, come in. So excited to meet you. Huge fan of your work.”
I offered her a weak smile and waved away her words, embarrassed all over again. It had only been what, thirteen, fourteen years since I became a center of attention for my healing abilities? I was bound to get used to it sooner or later. Any year now.
“You’ll be right this way,” she continued, guiding us down the hall. “We don’t have private rooms here, but there’s no one else in the east wing, so you’ll just be sleeping with a bunch of empty beds. Honestly, that’s better company than the soldiers!”
“That’s fine, I’m not picky,” I assured her. I could put up with anything for one night.
“I mean, I’m sure you’re used to much nicer conditions in the White House,” the nurse gushed. She leaned in and lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “What’s it like? Is it like living in a palace?”
“Uh… I wouldn’t know,” I answered honestly, shifting awkwardly in my wheelchair. “I haven’t seen many palaces. It is pretty nice, though.”
“Of course not, silly me!” She tittered. “Well, it must be luxurious. Our tax dollars at work, as they say. Anyway, we have a few folks that are dying to see you, you have no idea?—”
“I’m sure Ms. Nelson is exhausted after her journey,” the paramedic behind me interjected. “It’s probably best we settle her in and have the doctor check her out as soon as possible, given how intense tomorrow will surely be.”
“That’s fine!” The nurse’s cheery attitude was unaffected. “The doctor will be by shortly. You’re in here.” She stopped by a large set of swinging double doors. “All the way to the end on your right. The bathroom is the door in the corner. Have you had a chance to eat yet?”
“Not yet,” I admitted, flustered. Everything was happening so quickly, and this level of attention was new even for me. Having dedicated staff with me at all times? My own medical wing? Doubts clamored in the back of my mind.
“I’ll bring something for you!”
Looking forward to a moment of peace, I thanked her and let myself be wheeled inside. To my surprise, the room was large, housing about two dozen beds with a curtain for privacy between each one. The paramedic helped me to the end of the row and pulled aside the curtain to the bed the nurse had indicated.
“Well, I guess this is where I leave you,” he remarked, parking the wheelchair next to the bed. “You feeling alright? Want some help getting into bed?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. You’ve been a huge help. I appreciate it,” I said gratefully. “Sorry to make you come all this way.”
“Just doing my job, ma’am.” With a roguish grin, he tipped an imaginary hat my way. Even with everything that was going on, I ducked my head to hide a smile.
Once he was gone, I swiveled around to take in my surroundings. There wasn’t much. A vitals monitor and IV pole stood next to a medical cot complete with the tightest sheet tuck I’d ever seen. My bags, I was glad to see, waited for me on the foot of the bed. My phone and charger were in the side pocket of my overnight bag where I’d packed them. I plugged the charger into the nearest outlet, then sat on the bed to pull up my group chat with Devon and Chris. Scrolling through our messages, I felt a pang of longing. They’d be worrying for me, I knew. Best to keep things light. My thumbs moved across the digital keyboard.
I sense you guys are having too much fun without me *thoughtful emoji*
Chris: fuck how did u know
Chris: u got spy powers now too??
Devon: Lol not really. Feel like something’s missing tbh
Aww stop Dev, I’m not used to you being so sentimental
Devon: Dev? Really?
Chris: ew quit flirting. my eyes *barf emoji*
Chris: hey i’m expecting some hella awesome souvenirs from faeland k make it happen
Yeye I’ll do my best
With a sigh, I put the phone down. Now that things were calm, I could feel the exhaustion creeping in. I also found the lack of faint screaming in the background unnerving… Perhaps I’d gotten too familiar with the sound during my time at the White House. Luckily, I wasn’t given enough time to spiral into undesirable thoughts.
The doors swung open to reveal a larger man with graying facial hair in a white coat, flanked by a middle-aged nurse. I could make out several curious faces in the hallway behind them, and a myriad of hushed whispers filtered through the open doors. Anxiety began to rear its ugly head, along with unpleasant memories of being swarmed by people back at my childhood home in Connecticut.
“Avery Nelson, the national treasure,” the doctor’s voice boomed, echoing throughout the mostly empty room. “It’s an honor. I’m Dr. Gregory.”
“Felicity Hammon, Field Surgeon,” the woman I thought was a nurse introduced herself. She wore a starstruck look I was intimately acquainted with. While I prayed I was mistaken, I suspected that those waiting outside were soldiers with horrific injuries who hoped for magic.
Dr. Gregory continued. “We received your records from the hospital and are here to keep an eye on you tonight and provide support as needed. Considering your condition has been stagnant for the past few weeks, I doubt there will be any surprises, but if you learn anything in the medical field, it’s that people are never short of surprises.”
“Sure, thank you.” I grimaced but settled into bed without complaint as he summoned a bag of saline. The doors opened again, and the cheerful nurse from before came in with a covered tray.
“Somebody’s popular!” she exclaimed. “Admirers are lining up by the dozen. Doc, you’ll have to chase them off when you’re done. They won’t listen to me. Here, Ms. Nelson, I brought you some chicken, greens, and some pretzels. Have however much you can force down.”
“Sorry to make you go to the trouble,” I mumbled.
“Not at all.” The nurse set the tray down on the bed and began to get the IV and vitals monitor set up. “We were all told not to bother you about any healing, but hope springs eternal. Not to mention that not a lot goes on around here; half of them are probably just excited to see a new face! Especially a pretty one.” She winked. I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes, responding with a weak smile instead. Pretty was a stretch—especially with the sunken cheeks and dark circles, which had shown no signs of improvement over the past few weeks.
“For people who are paid to take orders, they certainly are daring,” Dr. Gregory remarked, shaking his head. “All right, you’re all set. Eat, rest. There’s a call button here if you need anything. Same as in the hospital, someone’s always around. We’ll get an automatic alert if any of your vitals take a turn, but otherwise, you’ll have privacy. Even if we have to station a guard at the door for the night.”
“I really appreciate it,” I said for what felt like the dozenth time today. “Everyone has been so kind and helpful, it’s so… so very appreciated.”
“You’re a patient, not to mention a valued guest,” Dr. Gregory asserted, waving away my thanks. “You’ve made miracles happen, you know, giving dozens of people hope when they had none. This is the least we can do.” He swept past the bed and gestured for the others to follow him.
“Leave the tray on the floor when you’re done,” the nurse told me as she passed by. Felicity lingered while the other two crossed the room.
“I, uh… I know we’re not supposed to bother you,” she began, her voice low. “My, uh… I lost hearing in my left ear a few years back, during a routine drill. I know it’s not a big deal compared to what most people come to you for, but I thought… well, since you were already here, if you wouldn’t mind…”
My heart plummeted.
“I’m sorry,” I responded softly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable heat that crept up the sides of my neck. “I wish I could help, but… I’m, uh…” God, what kind of excuse would possibly be believable? I couldn’t very well say I was broken. “Not feeling up to it at the moment,” I finished lamely. As Felicity’s expression morphed from hopeful to dismayed, I had to aver t my eyes. I couldn’t stand that look—the one that said I’d failed someone.
“When I get back from my trip, though, definitely,” I promised in an effort to soften the blow. “Just come find me, and we’ll get that taken care of in a jiffy.”
“Of course,” Felicity said hurriedly. “I’m sorry for asking. Just—let us know if you need anything.” She hovered a moment, but try as I might, I couldn’t find the right response. Face burning with shame, I kept my eyes downcast until she turned on her heel and hastened after the doctor and nurse.
Once I was alone, I could breathe again. I rubbed at my aching eyes, which were now moist with tears. What if this was to be my life now, spreading nothing but disappointment everywhere I went? I hoped to God that the fae had a cure. If not… no, I wasn’t thinking about that. They’d seen this before. If they knew what it was, they could treat it.
If they didn’t… it was over.