Awakened

by Morgan L. Busse

  Stephen relaxed at the sound of that voice. Like honey and sunshine across his pain-filled mind. Something warm held his hand. He wanted to open his eyes, but it hurt too much to even think about it. Instead, he slipped into the warm darkness . . .

  “The cut isn’t deep, but I cannot assess what the blow might have done to his brain. I’ll have one of the nurses patch him up and we’ll keep him overnight for observation.”

  A tenor voice. Neither harsh nor brassy. Not as soothing as the other voice. More voices hummed inside his head, like words heard underwater. The hum became a lull, gently pulling him along into the darkness again . . .

  In. Out.

  With each breath, Stephen drifted toward the pale light ahead.

  In. Out.

  He opened his eyes. He lay on a cot, his body molded to the dipping of the canvas. A wool blanket draped his body and chest, and his arms were tucked in on either side of him. A powerful thirst filled his being. Water! He needed water.

  He sat up and his head twinged. Ugh, too fast. He pressed his hand to his face until the ache disappeared. At least he didn’t feel dizzy anymore.

  “Stephen?”

  He glanced around. He was in some kind of tent, an enormous one, with dozens of cots in long rows. Lamps hung from the tent poles and cast warm pools of light down the middle of the area, leaving the perimeter in shadow.

  A hand touched his shoulder. Stephen twisted his head even more and found Kat sitting nearby. The light from a nearby lantern lit her face. Another light glowed behind her, leaving a halo around her head. She looked like an angel, except for the dark circles beneath her eyes.

  “Kat,” he said in a hoarse voice. “You’re here.” His thirst grabbed him by the throat. “Water,” he croaked.

  She nodded and stood, the warmth of her hand disappearing from his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  He watched her move along the path between the cots, her tiny figure disappearing through the tent opening. The man in the next cot over stirred then settled down again.

  Stephen frowned, slowly taking in the area for the second time. This place reminded him of a hospital. Was that were he was? A hospital? What happened to him? He remembered . . . a huge blast. And fear. Fear for Kat. Pushing her down and covering her with his own body. And . . .

  Nothing.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, searching his mind for anything after that. Nothing.

  He brought his hand up and touched the skin across his shoulder where Kat’s hand had been moments before.

  Wait, his shirt was gone.

  His eyes flew open and he looked down. His chest was wrapped in gauze, although the prickling of pain was located across his back and not his front. There was also a throbbing along the base of his head. He reached up and fingered the area. Instead of skin and hair, there was gauze. His fingers trailed the bumpy cloth, moving along his forehead, just above his eyebrows, and back down to the base of his skull.

  The canvas flaps moved and Kat entered the tent. She made her way back to his cot, a tin cup in her hand.

  “Here you go.” She sat down in the chair next to his cot and held the cup to his lips.

  Stephen let her assist him, gulping down the tepid, earthy water as if he would never be satisfied. After a couple seconds, Kat drew the empty cup away.

  “Thank you.” His whole body felt fatigued, like he had been running all day. Slowly he lay back down and stared up at the roof of the tent.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired. And in a little pain.” He glanced at Kat. Her eyes focused below his chin. The wool blanket had fallen to his waist and he hadn’t pulled it back over his bare midsection.

  She’d probably never seen a man without his shirt on.

  Stephen grabbed the end of the blanket and pulled it up.

  Kat’s face grew red and she looked away.

  A soft smile spread across his face. It was nice to know that, with everything going on with Kat, there was still an innocence to her. He tucked the blanket around his chest, leaving his arms free in the warm air. “So what happened to me?”

  “You don’t remember?” Kat glanced back, and, after observing he was covered again, brought her whole face around.

  He almost shook his head, thought better of it, and said, “No. I remember we were in a motorwagon, and things dropping from the sky, and a lot of explosions.”

  “But you don’t remember anything else?”

  He scrunched up his face in thought. A blur of color, sound, and movement were all he had. “No.”

  Kat readjusted her hands on her lap. “Our convoy was hit. One of the motorwagons behind us exploded. We were also hit by a blast. You shielded me and took the brunt of the explosion. Something hit the back of your head and knocked you out. When you came to, you were groggy. We arrived at the base and brought you here. The doctor thinks you have a concussion.”

  “A con-what?”

  “A concussion. An injury to the head.”

  Stephen felt the gauze again around his head. “How bad?”

  “The gash itself was shallow. One of the nurses sewed it up. The doctor wasn’t sure if there was internal damage, so he had you stay here overnight.”

  Stephen glanced around. “What time is it?”

  Kat hid a yawn behind her hand. “Past midnight, I think.”

  Almost a whole day had past and he didn’t remember any of it? Was that a result of the head injury? Kat yawned again and Stephen frowned. “Why are you here? Didn’t they provide you with a place to stay?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Yes. But I wasn’t about to leave you alone.”

  “But there are nurses here. This is a hospital after all, right?”

  She paused and stared at him. “Do you think I would leave you after you saved my life?”

  Stephen stared up into Kat’s face, and something shifted violently inside his heart. He’d been a lone wolf for so long he had forgotten what it was like to have someone actually care about his welfare. His throat tightened. “Thank you, Kat.”

  A fire lit inside her eyes. “As long as you are here, I will be here as well.”

  “And how long will that be?”

  Kat sat back and frowned. “I’m not sure. One of the doctors will want to see you in the morning. And while you were unconscious, I found out that Dr. Latimer is still stationed at the front lines.” There was a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

  “And when can we expect him back?” Stephen struggled up onto his elbows.

  “One of the nurses said he should be back in a couple of weeks. Then his tour is over.”

  “A couple of weeks.” Stephen lay back down. “I’m sorry, Kat. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  She gave a small laugh. “I wasn’t either. But it looks like we’re going to have to wait.”

  He blinked a couple times, his mind turning over what they would do next. He wasn’t sure what the commander would think about a World City bounty hunter and young lady on his base. He’d have to check in with the commander the moment he was back up on his feet. That is, if the commander didn’t come find him first.

  But then what?

  Stephen closed his eyes. Ever since his time on the Lancelot, and especially after his conversation with Kat, his heart had begun to open back up to God. Little prayers here and there now dotted his thoughts. Like now.

  God.

  What did he say next?

  Thank you for saving me during that blast. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how fortunate he was. No, not fortunate. A little higher, a little faster, and whatever had hit him might have caused further damage, or even permanent damage.

  Thank you for watching over Kat. Stephen hadn’t really talked to Kat about what she believed, but he had a feeling her knowledge of God was limited or even non-existent given what he knew about Dr. Bloodmayne, unless his aunt had been able to share. But Kat would have said something, right?

  Please help us reach Dr. Latimer.
So far Kat hadn’t had an episode, and scary Kat hadn’t made an appearance, but she was changing, she had said so herself. How much longer did they have? And was there really a cure? Or would the scary Kat emerge permanently, and then what?

  An image of World City filled his mind, red with flame and smoke. If Kat could throw men against the wall and land an airship with just her mind, was it possible there was no end to her power? And if scary Kat was in charge . . .

  Stephen let his breath out his nose. No. He was not going to go there. They would focus on the here and now. At the moment, Kat was doing fine, minus the numb area around her heart, and Dr. Latimer would be coming back. They just had to wait. And God . . . well, God could do anything. Including heal Kat’s soul.

  Chapter

  18

  After a restless night, Kat sat up in the chair beside Stephen’s cot. Her head felt like it was full of wool and her muscles were sore from the hard wooden chair. Outside, the first rays of morning trickled through the tent flaps. Already the day promised to be a hot one.

  Stephen, along with most of the other injured men, was still fast asleep. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and when she leaned close, she could hear the soft whoosh of his exhale. At this range, she could see a tiny white scar that ran through his eyebrow and the individual bristles of his three-day beard. The hardened façade he usually wore was gone, replaced with a younger, more carefree face. She wondered for a moment what Stephen had been like before he had caught his fiancée with another man. The time before he became a bounty hunter. Did he laugh? Enjoy life? Had there been a spark to his eye?

  Kat let out a quiet sigh. She understood the heaviness of a dark past all too well. Her own circumstances had robbed her of the carefree life she had seen in others. Maybe when this was all over, they would both find a more peaceful future.

  “I’ll be back,” she whispered. He never answered, just continued in serene slumber.

  With a yawn and a long stretch, she stood and wandered to the back of the medical tent.

  A handful of nurses were starting their morning routine. One swept the dirt floor, two more started their rounds, and a fourth brought in a tray of steaming bowls.

  Kat slipped behind the tables near the canvas wall and watched the nurses work. The longer she stood there, the more out of place she felt. She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. She had no business in a war camp. If only Dr. Latimer had been here. Instead, he would be at the front lines for a couple more weeks.

  Kat squeezed her arms tighter across her middle. What if Doctor Latimer couldn’t cure her? What if this whole trip had been in vain? Her hand stole to her throat, her stomach a nest of writhing snakes. What next? And what about Stephen? She glanced over her shoulder at the cot near the middle of the tent. A little bit higher, a little bit faster, and that debris would have killed him.

  It’s all my fault. Every person I’m around I place in danger. Maybe I should have never been born. My very being seems to destroy everyone around me.

  A small piece of curled paper caught her attention. It was nailed to the last tent pole just above the table. The note was short, too short to be a list or a schedule. Kat leaned over the table and pulled the curled side back, exposing firm, bold handwriting.

  Awake, O sleeper, rise up from the dead, and God will give you light.

  She frowned and straightened. What an odd saying. Why was it posted here? Was it part of some poem? She glanced around, but no one was paying attention to her. She looked back at the note. What did it mean? Why had someone placed it here?

  “I see you’ve found one of Dr. Latimer’s famous postings.”

  Kat jumped and turned around, her heart beating fast against her ribcage. A young man stood a couple feet away, dark hair swept back, his face clean shaven. He wore a lab coat over a button up shirt and trousers. “Dr. Emmett.” He gave her a short bow. “And you are?”

  Kat worked her mouth. “Miss Bloodmayne.”

  His eyebrows flew up as he straightened. “Bloodmayne? As in Dr. Alexander Bloodmayne?”

  Her face flushed. She shouldn’t have given her name. “Yes,” she said, the heat spreading along her hairline. “He is my father.”

  His eyes widened even farther. “What are you doing here in Austrium? This base is a long way from World City. Wait—” He held out his hand. “Are you one of the new nurses?”

  Kat shook her head. “No, I’m here in search of someone.” She gestured to the curled note. “Dr. Latimer, in fact.”

  “Ah.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid he’s not here. Did you come here by yourself?”

  “No, with a bounty hunter. I hired him to help me track down the doctor.”

  “And where is this bounty hunter now?”

  Kat looked back and pointed toward the cot where Stephen slept. “Our convoy was hit on our way here.”

  Dr. Emmett glanced in the direction Kat pointed. “During the bombing?”

  “Yes. Mr. Grey was hit while protecting me.”

  Dr. Emmett started across the tent. “What kind of wound?”

  Kat hurried to his side. “Head.” She led him to Stephen’s bed. “At the base of his skull. The medic said it wasn’t bad and stitched it up, but wanted to him to stay for observation.”

  The doctor stopped beside the cot and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “This man looks familiar. Grey, you said?”

  “Yes, Stephen Grey.”

  “I’ve seen his picture in the Herald.” He bent over and gently turned Stephen’s head to the side and peeked under the wrap.

  Stephen slowly blinked and opened his eyes.

  Dr. Emmett placed the wrapping back and straightened. “Good morning, Mr. Grey. I am Dr. Emmett. How are you feeling?”

  His gaze came into focus and he glanced at Kat, then at the doctor. “Tired. And the back of my head hurts.”

  “That is to be expected. Anything else? Nausea? Ringing in the ears?”

  “No. I feel better than I did last night.”

  “That’s good. I’ll come by later this morning and do some tests. For now, just rest.”

  Stephen turned his attention to her. “Kat.”

  “Yes?” Kat noticed the doctor’s reaction to Stephen’s informal use of her name.

  “Are you doing all right?”

  She gave him a gentle smile. “Yes. They are taking good care of me.”

  Stephen yawned and closed his eyes. “Good. Very good.” After a few seconds, his breathing evened out.

  Dr. Emmett turned toward her. “From what I can see, I believe Mr. Grey will make a full recovery. He should be up and moving in a day or two. Have you had breakfast yet?”

  Kat took her gaze from Stephen’s face and blinked at the doctor. “Breakfast?”

  “Yes. If you have not eaten, would you like to join me?” Dr. Emmett waited for her response, his hands held loosely behind his back.

  “I—that is—yes, I will join you for breakfast.”

  Dr. Emmett smiled and extended his arm. “Then let me escort you to the mess hall.”

  •••

  “What did you mean when you called that scrap of paper one of Dr. Latimer’s famous postings?”

  Dr. Emmett sat back, the plate in front of him empty save for a couple of crumbs. A steady buzz of voices filled the enormous tent. Rows of tables filled the area, most of them filled with men in olive green uniforms. The smell of hot biscuits and fried salted pork filled the air. “Dr. Latimer is one of the most intelligent men I have met, but he is a bit eccentric. He’s always scribbling down bits of Scripture from the Bible and posting them inside the medical tents. I’m not a religious man myself, but some of the verses are interesting.”

  “Do you know what that particular one means?” Kat asked.

  Dr. Emmett shook his head. “No, but I find it comforting when attending those who are dying. The words sound like there is more to death than just the end of existence. I’m not sure what it really means.”

  Kat
took a sip of tea. That was an interesting way of looking at it. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she liked it. Almost like God was calling the one who had died back to life, but not just to life—to new life, to light. Did God really do that? Could he make a dead soul live? She brushed the top of her corset. Could he do that with her?

  “Kathryn Bloodmayne.”

  She tilted her head, puzzled. “Yes?”

  He smiled. “I’m sorry. Just putting two and two together. Your bounty hunter called you Kat. Now I remember—I read your name in the Herald when the Tower Academy accepted its first women students a couple years ago.”

  Kat brought her mind back to the present and nodded. “Yes. I was one of the first students and just recently graduated.”

  “If you don’t mind, I would love to hear more about your time at the Tower. What was it like? How were you treated as a woman student?”

  Kat took another sip and placed her cup down. As she shared about her classes, she found Dr. Emmett was easy to talk to, and they had similar interests in the sciences.

  “I wanted to attend the Tower myself, but my family could not afford it.” Dr. Emmett crossed his arms in a casual manner. “So I was trained instead by a local physician, joined the military, and here I am.”

  “Oh.” Kat looked down at her almost empty cup. She had never really thought about how much her father’s name and profession had given her. As much as her father had hurt her, the Bloodmayne name had provided her with an education most could only dream of. But it had come with a cost as well.

  “Well, I should get back to work. Matron Foskey runs a tight schedule. Perhaps we can talk later about some of the things you learned during your time at the Tower.” Dr. Emmett stood. “You know, we could use some help in the medical tents. I know you haven’t been formally trained, but you do have some of the general knowledge of human anatomy and medicine. At least until Mr. Grey is better and you are needed elsewhere.”

  Kat’s eyes widened. An opportunity to learn medicine first hand? “I would like that very much.”

  Dr. Emmett smiled. “Excellent. Then follow me. First I need to check with Commander Powell, then I will introduce you to Matron Foskey. ”