Chapter 20 #3
He moved as quickly as possible through the corridors, twisting his torso to ensure she didn’t bump into anything. Though he’d never heard the word she used, he knew the room she’d described, and he hit the button outside the entry with his elbow when he arrived.
The double doors slid apart, disappearing into the wall, and he hurried inside. He laid Macy atop one of the tall, narrow beds.
“Sam, release the mask.” She turned her head to the side, letting the mask fall to the floor, and dropped her hands to grip her leg just below the knee. Jax kept his tentacle tight. “Need something to slow the bleeding. A bandage. Cloth. Anything.”
Melaina was at the side of the bed, peering over the low railing. “I am sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re safe,” Macy’s smile was strained as she looked at the youngling.
“Gather cloth to soak up the blood,” Jax said to Melaina. The youngling hurried to do so, and Jax shifted his attention to Macy. “You are going to be fine.”
He wasn’t certain whether his words were meant to assure her, or himself.
Melaina returned with a bundle of folded cloth in her arms.
Jax took a piece from her — it looked like the sheet from one of the beds — and tore it into a more manageable strip. He took Macy’s foot in one hand and lifted it higher. She hissed; her knuckles paled as she dug her fingers into her leg.
“Just wrap it. Quick,” she said.
Clenching his jaw, he withdrew his tentacle. Blood seeped from the wounds, spilling onto the bedding beneath and staining it. Fast as he could, he wrapped the cloth around her leg and pulled it tight. Crimson blossomed across the fabric.
Macy’s breath was ragged, and tears leaked from her eyes to mingle with the sheen of sweat on her face. Her tears didn’t stop her from curling forward, taking the ends of the cloth from Jax, and tying them together. She sagged back onto the bed once she was done, chest heaving.
Humans didn’t heal like kraken did — Jax knew that much, but it wasn’t enough to help her. Had her body already suffered more than its limit? Helplessness roared inside him, an insatiable fire devouring everything, threatening to consume him. What if he did something wrong?
What if he made it worse?
“Melaina,” Jax said. The youngling shifted her wide-eyed gaze to him. “I need you to find Arkon and send him here. You know him?”
She nodded.
“Good. Do not stray from the Facility. If you see others, pass the message on and remain inside.”
Melaina turned and hurried away.
Jax leaned over Macy and cupped her face. “Tell me what you need, Macy,” he rasped.
“Need to clean the wounds,” she said. “Disinfect them.”
“I do not know what disinfect means.”
She laughed, despite her obvious pain, and lifted a hand to his cheek. “Then look for something to seal the wounds. Might look like a small gun. Or…a needle and thread. Check the cabinets.”
Jax nodded, though his body refused, at first, to move away from her.
“Go on. I’ll be right here.” She returned her hand to her leg.
He opened the nearest cabinet and ran his eyes over its contents — dozens of bottles, glass jars, and plastic pouches and boxes. Each item had human symbols on its face, and some possessed the same crossed lines that were on the sign beside the door.
“What happened?” Arkon asked from the entry.
“We need to…disinfect her wounds,” Jax said without turning away, “and seal them. Do you know anything of this?” There was so much in this cabinet alone, and most of it looked the same apart from the symbols.
“I have seen a device in some of the holograms that appeared to be used to seal wounds.” The sound of Arkon crossing the room was pronounced in his haste. “It looked like a heat gun, but it was smaller, with a long, cylindrical protrusion at the rear.”
The two searched the cabinets frantically; Jax brushed objects aside to see behind them and opened the little boxes to pour out their contents, creating a clamor. But he found nothing like what Arkon and Macy had described.
Moving backward, he swept his gaze across the room; there had to be something, somewhere, to help her. His hearts thundered against his ribs. He’d seen a few kraken bleed out during hunts, when the severity of their injuries outpaced their ability to heal.
Time was against Macy.
Jax hurried to the long counter against the wall and searched its drawers rapidly. Most were full of tools he had no name for. One of the upper drawers was larger than the rest; he tugged it open.
It contained something familiar to him, though its scale was smaller — a charging rack, like the one where the heat guns were stored. This one had four guns docked within, each with a long protrusion extending behind its narrow grips.
Jax pulled one out and turned to Arkon. “Is this it?”
Arkon nodded, and the two moved to Macy.
What little color had remained in her face was gone now. She lay with her eyes closed, her lips caught between her teeth. The cloth on her leg was so saturated that blood slowly dripped from it.
“We found something to seal the wounds, Macy,” Jax said.
“Okay. Need to take off the bandage.”
Jax wasted no time; he passed the gun into a tentacle and tore the knot apart with his claw. Macy grunted through gritted teeth, squeezing her eye shut, as he peeled off the fabric.
Arkon wiped away the freshly welling blood with another cloth. There were several jagged tears in her skin, the worst of which was as long as Jax’s finger. The shredded material of the suit lay across the wounds.
“We need to cut away the suit,” Arkon said.
Jax slipped his claws beneath the fabric and tugged up; it stretched, but did not tear. When he exerted more pressure, Macy hissed through her teeth; his knuckles were digging into her leg.
“We need to take it off,” Jax said.
He touched the plastic piece on her chest and slid his fingertips around the edges, releasing the seal along the back.
Despite his care when he tilted her onto her side, Macy cried out in pain.
With Arkon’s help, Jax pulled the suit down, rolling it off her arms. They lifted her lower half to pull it past her waist. She bent her uninjured leg to help remove it from the suit.
There was no way to remove the suit from her injured leg without causing pain, so Jax did it as quickly as possible. Macy writhed on the bed, limbs trembling, and clutched one of his arms. Her fingers bit into his flesh.
Once the suit was off, she eased back onto the bed, breathing heavily. Jax tossed the suit aside as Arkon draped a sheet over her torso and thighs.
Jax picked up the gun and stared at Macy’s ravaged leg. It didn’t look nearly as bad as the razorback’s head, but that counted for nothing.
“How do I use it?”
Arkon held his hand out. “I’ve seen it in use.”
Without hesitation, Jax handed the gun to Arkon. “Quickly.”
Nodding, Arkon leaned over her leg. With two fingers, he pushed one of the gashes closed. Macy whimpered. Arkon pressed the tip of the gun to her skin and pulled the trigger.
Macy’s entire body tensed, and her mouth opened in a scream that was, for several terrifying moments, silent. She thrashed, pulling her leg away, and nearly rolled off the bed.
“I thought you knew how to use it!” Jax shouted, catching Macy by her shoulders.
“I do! But…I’ve only seen it used on unconscious individuals.” Arkon grasped her ankle to hold her leg still. “It’s working. Hold her down, and I will seal her wounds as quickly as I can.”
Jax met Macy’s glistening, desperate eyes.
“I need something to bite down on,” she said.
Jax tore a piece off the sheet and twisted it into a tight bundle. She opened her mouth, and he placed it between her teeth. She bit down.
He leaned over her, repositioning his tentacles to take hold of her thighs, and pressed some of his weight atop her. “Focus on me, Macy.”
Her eyes widened for an instant before she squeezed them shut again. She writhed beneath him, and Jax increased the pressure on her limbs so she wouldn’t jar Arkon as he worked.
“On me, Macy,” he repeated, more firmly. “Listen to me. Hear me. What you did was foolish. You are luckier than you may ever know to be alive right now.”
The cloth in her mouth muffled her scream. When she was able to open her eyes, she kept them on Jax. Her gaze was filled with pain, but there was something else beneath it. Determination.
“I told you to stay here, for your own safety, and you disobeyed me,” Jax continued. “Somewhere beneath my worry is anger…but the youngling is alive because of you. You saved her life, and though you risked death, this is not your final day. You have proven yourself a hunter today, a warrior.
“My pride for you is beyond words.”
Moisture flowed from her eyes. She grasped his arms tighter, digging her blunt nails into his skin.
Arkon turned her leg and squeezed the trigger again.
Macy arched her back. Jax shifted his weight to keep her pelvis on the bed and her thighs pinned. Her pupils expanded before rolling up, displaying only whites, and she sagged, limp, onto the bed.
“Macy!”
“What happened?” Arkon asked.
Jax pressed a shaky hand to her chest, trying to ignore his pounding hearts. He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw tight enough that he risked breaking his teeth, and stilled.
Faintly, he felt the beat of her heart under his palm; it was slow and weak, but it was there. Relief eased some of his panic.
“She lost consciousness,” he replied. “Finish quickly.”
As Arkon resumed his work, Jax cupped Macy’s cheek. Her skin was cold and clammy; less than an hour before, she’d been warm, vibrant, full of life. “You will be fine, Macy,” he said, voice rumbling from his chest.