Chapter Fifty-Six
Gemma flashed in and out of consciousness, catching only glimpses of conversations.
“Those purple cells . . . since we last checked. I’m not sure how much longer . . .”
“There is an option . . . her DNA.”
“We’ll have to wait and see.”
“She’s stable.”
“Yes, I think it’ll be safe to wake her soon.”
The room was way too bright when she, at last, opened her eyes.
The infirmary ceiling again.
“Welcome back, Miss Proctor,” a feminine voice said. Gemma angled her head toward her—a nurse. The nurse held a small cup of water beneath her chin and placed the head of the straw at her lips. “Slow sips, okay?”
Gemma obeyed, thankful for the wetness that dampened her parched throat. “What happened?” Her voice was so weak. She must’ve been unconscious for a while.
“I’ll let the doctor explain that to you,” she replied.
Typical nurse response. Gemma forced her eyes not to roll.
“Would you like me to get your boyfriend? He’s been here almost every day.”
Gemma’s heart raced. She hadn’t yet thought about her friends. “He’s okay?” Oh, praise the stars. “What about Imara Joshi? Hawk Gallowood?”
The nurse raised her hands. “Your friends are here in Zion, and they’ve all been checking in on you. I’ll go tell the doctor and Mister Holm that you’re awake.”
Gemma nodded and thanked the nurse before the woman left her alone.
In Zion, she had said. What happened to the shuttle to Oranos? Were they no longer leaving Reva?
Minutes later, the door to her room flung open, and Christian burst through. His face twisted as a sob broke his tough exterior. Seeing him cry tore Gemma’s heart.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she held out a hand to him. In two strides, he had her in his arms.
“I’ve never been so fucking scared in my entire life,” he said. “When you collapsed . . .” His chest shook as he wept softly into her hair.
She clung to him. His embrace was her safety, her home. He was alive—she was alive.
“I told you not to use that shield. I begged you not to give in.” Christian kissed the top of her head.
“I know you did. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t let go for several minutes, as if he feared she’d disappear. She stroked his strong back until, at last, he eased his hold and kissed her. His lips lingered on hers until she reluctantly pulled away, running her thumb against the stubble on his chin.
“What happened to me?” she asked.
Christian sat on her infirmary bed and wiped his eyes.
“It was . . .” He swallowed, his hazel-green eyes pooling again with tears.
“They kept you in a drug-induced coma while they ran tests. Those purple cells outnumber your red blood cells now, two to one. I asked as many questions as I could to better understand. They think because you leaned into your abilities so heavily and so fast, it was a ‘catalyst for replication.’ At least, that’s what Doctor Manae said.
From what I grasped, the extra nucleotide in your DNA is the only reason those cells are running synchronously with your body. ”
Gemma frowned, a lump in her throat. She was truly part alien, down to the very cells in her body. What happened now that she was awake? How long until her body could no longer control this part of her that was far from human?
“They did end up putting an implant in your spinal cord to help slow any . . . impulses. They think that might help keep the cells from replicating as fast as they have been,” Christian added.
She blinked slowly, releasing a deep breath through her nose. The Systems’ scientists were famous for their biomechanical creations. Maybe she’d be okay, after all. She would just have to take it one day at a time.
“How long was I unconscious?”
His jaw flexed. “Ten days.”
Ten days? Gemma’s shoulders sagged. No wonder he was so emotional. Ten days worrying about him would’ve destroyed her.
She took his hand in hers. “I’m so sorry.” A tear dripped from her lashes.
He wiped it away with his free thumb. “I’m just glad you’re alive and you’re you. That’s all that matters.”
Gemma’s chin trembled as she pressed her lips against his. She never imagined anyone could capture her heart as much as he had, but she would forever praise the stars that they’d sent him to her.
Someone coughed, and Gemma opened her eyes to see Imara and Hawk standing in the doorway. Hawk’s left eye was covered with a sleek, black patch, and Imara was dressed in shorts—where a prosthetic leg had been fitted below her right knee.
Gemma lifted her mouth off Christian’s. “What in the blazes happened to you two?”
“Well,” Imara started, “I am now a bionic woman, and Hawk has decided to go by the name Patch.”
He glared at her. “I absolutely did not agree to that nickname.”
Imara stuck out her tongue at him, and he playfully shoved her into the door frame.
Gemma smiled. She might not be totally human anymore. But at least her friends—no, her family—would still be by her side.
“What happens now?” she asked.
Christian cast his eyes to the floor as Imara looked to Hawk to explain. Gemma’s pulse spiked; the machine attached to her beeped louder and faster.
Hawk rubbed the back of his neck. “Shortly after the battle ended in Zion, there was an attack on Oranos. Rami thinks it was retribution for the Systems winning here on Reva. And, uh . . .” He flinched. “Your sister led it. We think she’s in charge now.”
Gemma’s throat tightened. “How many . . . ?” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know how many lives her sister was responsible for ending.
“More than half the station,” Christian answered, his voice pained. “The rest are evacuating to here.”
Gemma squeezed her eyes closed, bile churning in her stomach. She pressed her fist against her chest.
“And there’s now a”—Hawk cleared his throat—“a bounty on your sister’s head. I’m sorry, Gemma.”
A tear slipped from her eye. It wasn’t too long ago her thoughts had been consumed with finding Nadine, hugging her, hearing her tell Gemma how much she loved and missed her. But now . . .
Hawk and Imara flinched when Gemma opened her eyes, the mirror next to them showing Gemma’s eyes flash purple.
“My sister died the day she left for Zion.” Her nostrils flared. The girl Gemma no longer recognized had manipulated her, shattered her heart, and darkened her soul. And now, she’d murdered hundreds of innocents. “Stars help me—I will make sure Nadine pays.”