33. Bella with Tom
Chapter thirty-three
Bella with Tom
Suddenly I hear Finn call out loudly down the hall. “Bella! Bella! Come quickly. It’s Tom!”
I rush to the room, Darius following.
Tom had been relatively comatose and is now convulsing. His pulse is erratic, skin is hot, the webbing is dark and has spread horribly.
I don’t know what to do to stop this and start to feel like I could panic. The webbing is spreading.
Darius is behind me. His deep voice cuts through the noise. Low and steady. Too calm for what’s happening.
“Slow his blood, Bella. Slow his circulation.”
I freeze.
“What?”
“Slow it,” Darius says again calmly.
“That’s not a thing I can just—”
“It is,” he replies.
He’s looking at me. Certain and focused.
“What do you mean ‘slow it’?” I ask quickly.
“You’re thinking too broadly, in a traditional medical sense,” he says. “Shift your perspective. Reduce the system. Control the rate.”
My mind catches, just enough, processing what he is saying. Heart rate. Flow. Pressure. It’s the conduit of the blood disease.
“Finn,” I say immediately. “We need to bring his heart rate down.”
Finn nods. “How?”
“Sedation,” I say. “Controlled. I don’t want to crash him.”
“I’ll get it.”
He moves fast. I turn back to Tom, who is in and out of consciousness.
“Hey,” I say, softer now. “I’m going to help you. Hang on.”
His hand jerks suddenly, gripping my wrist. Hard.
“Make it stop,” he gasps.
“I’m trying.”
His eyes flick again. Not normal or stable. There is something I can only describe as alien under the surface, in those eyes that look at me.
I swallow.
Tom’s grip tightens and his gaze is not his own in this moment. Darius steps in beside me. Within reach. His hand closes over mine—still pressed to Tom’s wrist. My breath catches.
“Feel it,” he says quietly.
I do. The pulse is wild and erratic.
“Guide it,” he says. “Slow it,” he says as Finn is back and administers the sedation.
My heart stutters.
“You can do this Bella. You are capable of so much. We are dealing with something … not normal.”
“Now is not the time for motivational speeches,” I mutter as Finn is carefully administering the dose.
“It is exactly the time.” His thumb shifts slightly against my hand. The contact is intentional, and it sends a sharp, unexpected heat up my arm.
Finn steps back, the dose now administered fully.
Tom’s body jerks once more but then settles. His eyes are his own again. His pulse slows. It’s still fast but slowing. The veining stops spreading.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay … that’s better.”
“Again,” Darius says.
“What?”
“The pattern,” he continues. “Observe it now.”
I focus. Pulse—reduced. The line under Tom’s skin—slower. But still there and moving. Just not racing.
“Oh,” I whisper. “I see. It’s reacting to the flow rate.”
“Yes,” he says.
“It’s tied to it.”
“That means—”
“You can influence it,” he finishes.
My mind races.
“If we slow it early enough, we may delay progression…”
“Delay, yes,” Darius says. “Not stop.”
I exhale.
“Well, that’s something,” I say. “A first step.”
“It is more than we had five minutes ago,” Finn says.
I glance at Darius.
“You knew that would work.”
“I guessed it. I’ve been going through old medical texts.”
Tom groans softly, still here and fighting. I adjust the bandaging, securing the wound as best I can.
“We’ll watch him closely,” I say. “Constant monitoring. And we should sedate the others, at least on low doses.”
Finn nods. “On it, boss.”
I straighten slowly. My hands are shaking. I didn’t notice until now. Adrenaline.
“Bella. You did well,” Darius says with that low rumbling voice. I swallow.
“I don’t want to lose anyone,” I say.
He studies me and says quietly, “But you will,” he says. “You must be prepared for that.”
The words land like a blow. I freeze.
“What?”
“You will lose someone,” he continues. “If this continues. It happened in the past, before containment. Dr. Mercer lost patients. It is reality.”
“I will do everything in my power to stop that, Darius.”
We stand there for a moment. Too close. Too aware. The air between us tight with something neither of us is naming.
Darius’ cell phone rings and he picks up. His face freezes. He says, “Understood,” and hangs up.
“Bella, Marcus has the disease full on. Can you come to The Cliffs now? It’s bad.”
“Finn, are you okay here? Can you take charge?”
“On it, doc. I gave Lena a low-dose sedative and I’ll stay with Tom. I’ll hold off on Silas for now. Charlie will help me. Betty is coming at 10 this morning. I’ll call if anything goes crazy. Or shout, because he would probably hear it,” he says, looking at Darius.
Charlie leans on Finn’s leg. I’m an assistant at the ready, he tells me. Go, Bella.
“Let’s go,” I say to Darius as we hurry out to his car.
As we drive up, I think of the cases so far.
Lena. Anemia. No silver necklace. Donor. Slow but steady internal progression.
The girls, Jenna and Maris. Donors, anemia, no silver necklace, small webbing developing on their arms at a pace like Lena.
Silas. Rapid healing, controlled wound, silver necklace, not a donor, little other consequences so far.
Tom. Chaotic entry point, wounded violently in The Wilds, not a donor, very fast internal change and webbing.
John. Shredded and dead. A donor. No other data yet.
Now I wonder what’s happening at The Cliffs.