Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two

by Aria Michaels

  Ballard nodded, turning a dial on the side of the device while Collin dug a penlight from his front pocket. He carefully forced Micah’s left eye open and shined the light directly into it. The ring around Micah’s iris flashed a radiant silver, expanding inward until his pupil was but a pinpoint of darkness. It glowed softly on its own, holding onto the light even after Collin turned it away. He did the same test on the other side, but the blackened orb was little more than a puddle under a porch light. It could bend the light, but could not absorb it.

  “Why isn’t he waking up?” Riley asked, clutching my arm tightly.

  “That’s what I am trying to figure out,” Collin said, donning his stethoscope.

  He pressed it to Micah’s chest, cautiously avoiding the metal probes. He slid the bell back and forth and listened intently for some time before slinging the silicon stem back over his neck. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

  “What is it, doc?” Zander gripped the back of the chair back and scowled.

  “I need to check something,” Collin said, grimly. “I want you and Ty to hold him down for me, just in case.”

  “Okay?” Zander paled.

  “One hand here,” Collin told him, crossing Micah’s hands across his hips. “The other on his good shoulder. Ty, you hold his legs.”

  Ty grunted his understanding and pressed his large hands against Micah’s thighs, holding them tight against the seat bottoms. Collin poked and prodded at the skin around Micah’s injury with gloved hands. It was swollen tight and discolored with purplish streaks winding away from it toward his heart. Collin slid one hand behind Micah’s back, pressing up against his shoulder blade.

  “Ready?” Collin asked. The boys nodded grimly. “Okay, here we go.”

  He took a deep breath and held it, then shoved his index finger into the entry wound as far as it would go. Ty and Zander braced themselves, but Micah didn’t flinch. Blood and viscous, yellow fluid gushed out and bubbled across Micah’s chest. The discharge filled the air with the smell of rotten meat.

  “Okay, that’s nasty,” Falisha made a gagging sound and covered her mouth and nose.

  “For real,” Megan wrinkled her nose in disgust but held Micah’s head firmly in place.

  “Damn,” Collin said.

  He slowly pulled his finger out of the hole. Slime dripped from his glove onto Micah’s chest. He shook his head and wiped it away with the towel, then tossed the muck-coated terrycloth onto the remnants of the gray hoodie. His gloves soon followed, adding to the tainted pile. He grabbed a clean towel from the stack and draped it across Micah’s chest. As if to emphasize the seriousness of the moment, the solar light began to flicker.

  “Well?” Zander’s jaw clenched.

  “The good news is, the bullet went clean through,” Collin said as he rose to his feet.

  “He was shot?” Riley’s eyes went wide.

  “A few days ago, by the looks of it,” Collin said. “It’s not pretty, but it appears to have missed the bone. I don’t see any major structural damage. I’ll need to clean and irrigate the wound. It’s probably not a bad idea to install a port of some kind to drain the excess fluid, too. A couple of those lacerations on his neck need stitches and that ankle will have to be set and splinted.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad,” Ballard said, forcing a smile. “All things considered.”

  “Jake, would you run and fetch Eli for me?” Collin asked. “I could use an extra set of hands on this one.”

  “No problem,” Jake nodded.

  “I’ll go with him,” Falisha said, frowning at Micah’s pale form.

  “Megan, keep doing what you’re doing,” Collin nodded at her. “I’ll be right back, Zander. I’m just going to grab him something for the pain and gather a few supplies.”

  Zander nodded tersely and turned his back, dropping to a knee at Micah’s side. His own wounds had begun bleeding through the bandages. The back of his t-shirt was dotted with crimson. At that moment, his cousin’s anguish overshadowed his own, numbing any pain that I had inflicted upon him.

  He may have forgotten, but I never would.

  Riley, Ty, and I followed Collin to the folding table at the far end of the infirmary. His gate was stiff, and his shoulders were tense. When he reached the table, he shuffled things about for a moment, then leaned on it and hung his head.

  “Collin?” Riley touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Micah is going to need fresh clothes and something to eat when he wakes,” Collin glanced over his shoulder at her. “Perhaps you could take care of that?”

  “Not a chance,” she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

  The light in the infirmary finally sputtered out, casting shadows across the space. Collin sighed heavily, clicked on his flashlight, and pulled a crate of supplies toward him across the table. He dug through the meager contents in a huff, removing random items, then putting them back. He seemed lost, unsure, and almost angry.

  “What aren’t you telling us, Dr. Acer?” Riley pressed, laying her hand across Collin’s shoulder.

  “Your friend is in really bad shape.” Collin turned to face us. There were deep lines etched across his forehead. “I’m not sure how much good I can do here.”

  “What does that even mean?” Riley frowned. “You said all of his wounds were treatable.”

  “And they are.” Collin sighed. “The injuries, themselves, would heal reasonably well if given the time. I just don’t know that he has it. Micah is a very sick young man.”

  “It’s been four days since he was bitten. The virus would have killed him by now if it was going to.” I blurted.

  “Wait, what?” Riley narrowed her eyes at me, and my heart dropped into my stomach. “What did you just say?”

  “That damn virus is the least of his troubles,” Collin sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. “In fact, given what you’ve told me about GRS, it’s probably the only reason he is still alive.”

  “But?” My chest tightened.

  “Liv, Micah has been through an unbelievable trauma. In addition to the obvious injuries, he’s severely dehydrated, and he’s lost a lot of blood,” Collin said. “His pressure is dangerously low, and his heart rate is erratic, but that’s not what has me worried.”

  “There’s more?” Riley asked. Her brows knit.

  “I’m afraid so.” Collin frowned. “He’s showing signs of aggressive septicemia.”

  “A blood infection?” I clutched my stomach. “Isn’t that a little redundant, given the circumstances?”

  “That’s the problem,” Collin said. “His body was already working overtime trying to combat the effects of the virus before any of this happened. You see that yellowish tint to his skin? That means his kidneys are shutting down. By the sounds of it, his lungs aren’t far behind. That wound on his shoulder? It’s gangrenous. I don’t know if Micah has the strength to fight off any additional threats to his immune system.”

  “Are you telling me Micah could die?” Riley’s eyes glistened.

  Collin sighed, bracketing her shoulders gently. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “No,” Riley said, grabbing the front of Collin’s shirt. “No! You can’t just give up on him. Please, you have to do something.”

  “I’m not giving up, Riley.” Collin patted her hands and gently peeled them away. “I promise you I will do everything in my power to help your friend, but there’s only so much I can do with amoxicillin and dental floss.”

  “What do you need?” I asked.

  “I.V. fluids and some seriously strong antibiotics, for starters.” Collin rubbed the back of his neck. “Ultimately, Micah is going to need surgery to remove the necrotic tissue. In case you hadn’t noticed, this place isn’t exactly sterile, and the closest thing I have to anesthesia is Dramamine.”

  “What about the camp?” Riley asked. “Would they have what you need?”

  “I’m sure they do, but since they are the ones that did this to him in the
first place, I’m pretty sure taking him back there would be a bad idea.” Collin shook his head.

  “If we get you in, can you help him?” I asked with my fists clenched at my sides.

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing,” I said. “If that’s what you need, then that’s what we will do.”

  “We can do it,” Riley nodded fiercely. “We just need a couple of hours to figure out how to make it happen.”

  “He doesn’t have a couple of hours,” Collin’s eyes were downcast. “His body is shutting down. It won’t be long, now.”

  “Oh, God,” Riley hiccupped, tears streaming down her face.

  “What about a blood transfusion?” Ty offered, side-eying me. “Would that buy him some time?”

  “In theory,” Collin frowned. “Even if we knew his blood type the likelihood of finding him a compatible donor match with the same panel of antibodies is slim to none.”

  “Not today, it ain’t,” Ty said nudging me forward with his elbow.

  “Guys, no,” I shook my head and stepped back. “This is not a good idea. We don’t know what will happen. It could make things worse.”

  “With all due respect, I don’t think that’s possible,” Collin said, his smile sympathetic.

  “Liv, please,” Riley clutched at my hand. “It’s Micah. We have to try.”

  “Riley,” I said staring down at our joined hands.

  “Liv.” She squeezed harder, her normally steady hands shaking in mine.

  She bit her lip and looked over at Micah. Zander was hunched at his side, his blood-soaked shoulders sagging with worry. Even Megan’s expression was grim. When she looked up, her eyes flashed at me, urging me to do something. Resistance was futile. This was not a battle I could win.

  “Fine,” I sighed. “Let’s do it.”

  “Do what?” Eli asked as he approached with the others. “I was told my expertise was needed here.”

  “Yeah, that’s not what I said,” Falisha rolled her eyes at him.

  “How can I be of assistance?” Eli said, loudly, superseding her disclaimer.

  The lot of us made our way back to the darkened infirmary where Micah lay, motionless. My legs felt heavy, and my head was buzzing. Riley still hadn’t released my hand, but I was in no rush for her to do so. The truth was I was more scared than the rest of them. I had given part of myself once before to save Ty’s life, but it was my fault it had been in danger in the first place. Now, he was infected, literally a freak of nature, because of me. My blood was poison, but it was probably the only chance Micah had.

  The mood in the infirmary was one of worried determination. Eli shoved his penlight in his mouth and aimed it down at Micah’s arm while he worked. After several failed attempts, Eli finally managed to locate a vein for Micah’s I.V. He quickly inserted the needle, and strangled the last bag of fluids, forcing half of its contents into Micah’s depleted body. Once his system was primed for the transfusion, Eli clamped off the saline and removed the tubing from the end of the bag.

  On Collin’s orders, Ballard ran the solar light to the emergency exit at the opposite end of the carousel to charge. Falisha and Jake tore down Megan’s disused suitcase cot and stacked the luggage in a pile next to Micah’s sickbed. I sat on top of it, as instructed, and stared numbly down at my friend’s battered face. Collin scrubbed the crook of my arm with a sterile wipe.

  Though it had been less than a day, the bruise left behind after my first donation was barely visible, now. The same could not be said for Micah. At that moment, I envied my friends’ limitations. For me, the shadows would never be dark enough to hide what Micah had gone through.

  The monster in my chest scratched and clawed, feeding greedily on an endless supply of guilt. If I had not gone along with Micah’s plan, if I had found a way to make him stay, none of this would have happened. Micah would be safe. Riley’s heart would be intact. Zander wouldn’t be agonizing over the suffering of his only family.

  “Hold this.” Eli shoved in next to me, thrusting the end of Micah’s I.V. tubing into my hand.

  He clicked his trusty penlight on and held it in his mouth. The small beam of white light illuminated my arm. He tied a strip of fabric around my bicep and tightened it until the veins bulged, then pressed his gloved fingers into my skin until he found a suitable home for the needle.

  “Gotcha,” he smirked victoriously and jabbed it into my arm.

  “Jesus, Eli,” I hissed, wincing. “You seriously need to work on that.”

  He untied the tourniquet and shrugged, as undaunted by my criticism as he was by the blood running down my arm. He wiped at it sloppily with a cloth, taped the needle into place, and yanked the tubing from my hand. Once Micah and I were tethered, he released the clamp and shook the line, coaxing my blood through it. Time stood still as the dark fluid rushed through the twisted hose into Micah’s motionless body.

  “Okay, what’s next on the agenda?” Eli stood and brushed his hands together. He was clearly pleased with himself and oblivious to our bated breath.

  “How about you check his vitals while I prep to irrigate his shoulder.” Collin shook his head and handed Eli his stethoscope. “Oh, and it’s best you avoid the sensors in his head and chest.”

  “Sensors?” Eli snapped, suddenly tense. “What sensors?”

  “See for yourself,” Collin said as he lifted the towel that was draped across Micah’s upper body. “Poor kid. Those monsters really did a number on him.”

  “No.” The color drained from Eli’s face. The stethoscope slid through his fingers and clattered to the floor. “No. This isn’t possible.”

  “What’s wrong?” Jake asked.

  “This is a G7 transmitter,” Eli pointed sharply at the metal barb jutting from Micah’s temple. “This technology is not supposed to exist, anymore.”

  “Wait. You’ve seen these things before?” I spun on him a bit too quickly given the rate at which my blood was leaving my body. It took a moment for the swirling room to catch up with me.

  “Yes, but never in person,” Eli said, pushing me back down. “I only saw a rough sketch and some hand-written notes that Elsa stole from the facility archives. The whole program was scrapped in the late 80’s. The genetic interface on the neural bridge system was not compatible with the base proteins in the human brain. This makes no sense.”

  “You ain’t kiddin’,” Ty’s forehead wrinkled.

  “It’s just—” Eli’s brow furrowed. “There were only a couple of dozen transmitters in existence and those were supposed to have been destroyed decades ago.”

  “Well, obviously they weren’t,” Tessa said, wiping blood from her hands as she emerged from the shadows.

  “Yes, obviously.” Eli glared at her, then pressed his eyes closed and raked his hair back. After a moment, his eyes shot open. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

  “Far be it for me to disagree,” Tess said, waving him on.

  “What did you do?” I asked, suddenly nauseous.

  “The genetic coding sequences I extracted when those bastards abducted me; it was never about synthesizing a cure.” Eli’s jaw clenched. “They’ve had their hands on this technology all along, and I gave them exactly what they needed to unlock it.”

  “And what, exactly, was this technology meant to do?” Collin reached in front of Eli to close the flow valve on the tubing stretched between Micah and me.

  “It’s complicated,” Eli sighed staring down at his feet.

  “We’ll do our best to keep up.” I scowled, picking at the tape that still held the needle in place.

  “Stop that.” Eli scolded, swatting my hand away. “I’ve got it.”

  He shook his head at me as he popped the lead end off the needle, then coiled the tubing and lay it across Micah’s lap. His gaze lingered a moment on the probes in his chest. With a heavy sigh, he pressed a square of gauze to my skin, slid the needle free, and bent my arm at the elbow to hold the pad in place.

  “Quit stalling, Eli,�
�� Riley demanded. “Spill.”

  “The goal was to lower the risk of combat casualties through improved tactical efficiency,” Eli said. “The neural bridge network was designed to isolate select neural frequencies and merge them into a unified signal using a pentagonal transmitter configuration. In essence, the bridge would create a synthetic extrasensory network within a defined squadron, allowing them to coordinate maneuvers without the use of traditional battlefield communications.”

  “You are talking about telepathy.” Jake’s mouth dropped open. “Mind speak?”

  “Moderated mind speak,” Eli nodded grimly. “Each network would be delegated to a single, remote administrator. Once the connection was established within the designated squadron, the assigned intermediary could manipulate anyone on the frequency for that specific bridge.”

  “And by intermediary, you mean puppet-master,” Tessa said, crossing her arms.

  “Potato-potahto,” Eli said, throwing his hands up. “If they’ve found a way to bridge the infected, we are in serious trouble.”

  “But they can only control those who’ve been implanted with the transmitters, right?” Jake asked. “If that’s true, we still have a chance to stop them. A couple of dozen transmitters aren’t nearly enough to create an entire army of those things.”

  “Yes, it is.” Understanding settled in my stomach like wet concrete. “If they get their hands on a bonded alpha.”

  “Exactly,” Eli said jabbing a finger in my direction. “Once an alpha pairing has been established, it creates the same type of inherent neural link you’d see within a hive. The alpha would be able to influence any of the infected that align with them using that connection. While the pairing is necessary to establish collective intelligence, the intermediary need only control the alpha to control the army.”

  “So, which is he?” Ballard pointed to Micah.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Eli said. His jaw was tight as he reached down into Collin’s bag.

  A second later, he was on top of Micah with a scalpel to his throat. Ty grabbed for him, but Eli dodged his grasp. The impact of Eli’s body on Micah’s, sent Megan and me tumbling to the floor. I landed hard on my back, the air rushing from my lungs. Megan slid across the floor, her eyes wide with shock. Collin shot to his feet and threw his arms wide, shielding Riley, Falisha, and Jake.