I feel, for the first time, genuine care and concern from a stranger. I wonder if this is what it would have been like, to grow up with a real family. Not a fabricated one.
Ray sits in a chair across from us, drinking boiled water from a can. He chuckles as he watches Sketch. “We had grandkids, long time ago. Might as well let Martha get her fix on caring for ya.”
The old woman digs the comb in again, and Sketch screams like a whiny Ward child.
I want her to stop.
But then again, if she doesn’t, Meadow might wake up.
When she fell, Ray sent for a man he called the Surgeon. His hands were steady and his eyes were cold. He took Meadow away, and now I’m sitting here by the little makeshift hospital room, waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting some more.
I can hear a beeping noise in the corner of the room, where she’s behind her wall of sheets. The New Militia has resources, and power. More than the Resistance in the Shallows ever had. I stare at the closed wall of sheets, desperate for an update.
“You look like a sick puppy,” Sketch says. “Woodson will be fine, Zero. Trust me.”
“What do you know?” I ask. I kick off my boots.
Sketch groans as Martha pulls the comb through again. “The Leeches wouldn’t have put that thing in her head if they knew it would kill her. She’ll be fine.”
“And if this surgeon fluxes up when he’s removing it?” I ask.
Sketch shrugs. “Woodson wants to die, Zero. You and I both know that.”
“Not until her family is free.”
Martha reaches out and touches my shoulder. “The Surgeon does great work, child. Relax, and rest. You look tired.”
Her words are stupid and simple, but her voice is so soothing. If I’d had a real grandmother, I imagine she’d probably have been able to calm me the way Martha is trying to right now.
I look around the Outpost. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever been inside of, except for the Leech Headquarters. They have all sorts of technology. Generators that give us light. Maps of the Outside. Radios, weapons, food, clothing, even medicines, though I don’t think there’s use for that kind of thing anymore. Not with the Cure.
I want to know who they are, what they’re about, and why they took us in, when there’s so many people they could have taken instead.
But no matter how many questions I ask, they won’t answer.
“When the General comes back, he’ll decide what to tell you,” Ray says.
And so we wait.
Hours pass. I go in and out of sleep. I eat something called refried beans, and if I weren’t so sick over worrying about Meadow, I think I’d love their taste.
Finally, the Surgeon opens up the curtain. There’s blood on his hands and white clothes. His nurse comes out behind him.
I stand. Sketch stands, too.
“We couldn’t get it off,” he says. My heart sinks. “We could, however, remove the computer system inside of it, and lessen its weight. It’s shut down now. Even if the Initiative wanted to try to reach her through it, they couldn’t. I simply don’t have the tools to remove it from her spine, without risking her life, or paralyzing her.”
“You can’t just . . . rip it out?” Sketch asks.
The Surgeon shakes his head. “She’ll be fine. We think the system inside was getting to her. Hopefully, without it running, her symptoms will decrease, and eventually, disappear for good.”
There’s something hidden beneath his tired eyes.
Something that looks like a lie.
“You sure that’s all?” I ask.
The Surgeon shuffles his feet. “That’s all there is.” Then he goes to clean up.
Sketch sits down on the couch, shoves me with her boot. “Go see her, Zero. I’m sick of your face.”
I sweep the curtain aside, and step into Meadow’s tiny room. I pull an old metal chair next to her bed, and hold her hand. Stars, she’s beautiful in her sleep. With her head against the rough flour-sack pillow, it’s hard to imagine the Regulator is still attached on the other side of her. At least it’s shut down. They can’t hurt her anymore, not with that.
I hope.
Her lips are full, half parted.
I stand up, quietly, and lean down to kiss her. “I missed you,” I whisper. My lips are about to touch hers when her eyes fly open.
She gasps in shock. Before I can move away, she smashes her head against my skull.
CHAPTER 49
MEADOW
I knocked him out.
I literally knocked Zephyr out with a head-butt.
It’s a tactic my brother Koi always begged me to try, but I never wanted to, afraid it wouldn’t work. I guess it does.
I leap out of bed to help Zephyr as he groans and sits up.
“I was trying to kiss you!” he gasps. “What the flux?”
There is already a purple lump on his head, over his Catalogue Number, but he doesn’t seem worried about himself. He stands, brushes himself off. Then he reaches out, moves a stray curl away from my face.
“Meadow, you just had surgery. Shouldn’t you be tired?”
I shake my head. I feel stronger than ever, like I could run for hours and not stop. My mother’s words sing to me from the deep. Only a few days . . . I swallow them back, force them to hide.
There is heaviness at the back of my head and neck. The Regulator, still attached to me like a parasite.
“They tried to remove it,” Zephyr says. “They couldn’t. They shut it down, though. We think the system was too much for you to handle. Hopefully you won’t have symptoms anymore.”
I nod.
But he is wrong. It isn’t the Regulator that is hurting me.
It is my mother’s secret, and now I believe it, without a shadow of doubt.
Zephyr sits down in his chair again. “I was worried about you.” His eyes are wide, green as fresh grass. His hand stays on my cheek, warm and soft. I lean into it and close my eyes. I could stay here forever, in the quiet.
“Why?” I ask. I realize that these moments are precious. Even if I refuse to admit it, even if he won’t say so either. “I’m sorry. For everything, so far. This isn’t easy, you know.”
“I know, Meadow,” he says. “That’s why I’m still here. Well that, and Sketch can pack a mean punch.”
I’m not sure what he is talking about. But right now, I don’t care.
I am selfish when he is close.
“Come here,” I whisper. “I want to apologize.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Zephyr says. But I feel him lean in, feel his warm breath on my face. His lips are almost against mine when the curtains around my bed fly open.
“Really?” Sketch is standing there, her hands on her hips. “I’m going to be sick, watching you two.”
Zephyr groans, pulls away. “What do you want, Sketch?”
She frowns. “The General’s back. And he wants to see us. Now.”
CHAPTER 50
ZEPHYR
The first things I notice about the General are his eyes.
They’re a deep, dark brown, so dark that they could almost be black.