The poor girl’s status hadn’t changed since she got there. It was sad. Janice had been unconscious for far too long. Although she didn’t look like she was on the verge of death when she’d first arrived, she hadn’t bothered waking up and joining all the fun either. Not the worst idea, Frenchie thought. Maybe she should pull up a bed and hibernate as well. Let her body rejuvenate and grow another appendage.
Frenchie wheeled over to the sinks and stared at the image projected on the wall. The picture had multiple layers in reds, and pinks, and grays. Tiny vertical lines rimmed the top of the odd structure.
“Interesting isn’t it?” Lola asked.
Frenchie hadn’t heard Lola’s wheelchair slide up behind her. She felt bad for her friend, but some part of her was happy that she wasn’t the only cripple. “What is it?”
“Bronchial lining,” Lola said. “Charmin found it on one of her pharyngeal swabs. She seems fascinated by it. Besides being huge, the cilia appear to be paralyzed.”
Frenchie rolled her eyes. Bronchial, pharyngeal, cilia? Why did people have to talk in technical terms that only 3% of the population could understand? She looked back at the blob on the wall again. “Where did Charmin find it?”
“When Charmin swabbed Janice’s nose and throat, she found one of these cells that she must have coughed up from her lungs.” Lola pointed to the picture on the wall.
“And she’s puzzled because the little hairs seemed paralyzed?” Frenchie asked.
Lola nodded. “She’s wondering if that’s why her oxygen saturation is so low and why she hasn’t woken up. The cells may have gotten so big that they are denying oxygen to her lungs, and are slowly suffocating her. She needs to find a way to shrink the cells back to normal. ”
Frenchie traced the edge of the cell. Then she pulled an anatomy book from the shelf and flipped though it until she found a picture of the nose, the mouth, and the lungs.
Now that she saw it in print, she recognized some of the names from her early high school years. She traced her finger along the respiratory tract: the nasal cavity, down the trachea, into the bronchi, and finally the bronchioles. The book showed photos of a few lung cells that covered nearly the entire respiratory tract, most of them looked somewhat like the one pictured on the screen above.
Could it really be that simple? Frenchie wheeled over to Janice’s bed. She was peaceful. Nothing had changed since her last visit. Even her hair was parted and displayed exactly the same way Frenchie had left it.
Frenchie closed her eyes and concentrated on the girl’s nose. Eventually she could feel the tiny hairs that lined the nasal cavity. Most of the hairs were flowing normally, moving inward and then outward with each breath.
She followed the hissing air down into her throat, past her trachea, and then into her bronchioles. There were tiny hairs, cilia, lining everything. Those closest to the opening were moving freely swaying with each breath as they did in the nose, but most of those hairs towards the end of the bronchi were coated in a thick mucus that seemed to immobilize them.
The mucus crept along almost imperceptibly. She could feel each hair cell struggle as the slimy substance slid over it. Some of the hair cells were able to break the mucus’s hold and spit pieces of it back up the respiratory track while others became dormant.
This had to be the virus. The thick mucus paralyzed the hair and prevented the body from getting rid of the infection. Frenchie concentrated on a patch of cilia, hair, higher in the bronchial tube that was not as inundated. She told the entire patch to move together as a single unit.
The patch of hair tensed and pushed, but it didn’t move.
Frenchie forced the tiny hairs to move in the opposite direction. Just as she sensed a gentle shift, she forced the hairs back the other way.
The hair gained a tiny bit of movement. Again she forced the hairs back and forth like the wheels of a train, until the mucous was dislodged and sent up the respiratory tract with the next exhalation.
Frenchie smiled.
“What?” Lola asked. “What is it?”
“I may have found a way to help Janice,” Frenchie felt like she was glowing. She could save Janice. She could reunite her with her brother.
Frenchie moved on to the next patch of cells, and then the next. She barely noticed when Lola left. After about twenty minutes, the mucus had been broken into manageable pieces and the cilia were able to break up and rid themselves of the mucus on their own. Janice’s heart rate, blood pressure, and all of her vitals, were all climbing.
Lola wheeled herself back into the room, followed by Charmin.
“Hi guys. I did it. I saved her,” Frenchie said beaming.
“No, no, no, no,” Charmin said as she dashed over holding a mask to her face. “What have you done?”
“I fixed her,” Frenchie said with a bit of pride. “The little hairs in her lungs were stuck, so I helped them out.”
Charmin glanced at the vitals. Fastened a face mask on the girl, and then tossed two more to Frenchie and Lola. “Put these on.”
“But…”
“Just put it on and then go wash up at the sink,” Charmin demanded.
Frenchie threw the face mask back at Charmin. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’ve only been with her for what, a half-hour. And I’ve already fixed what you couldn’t do in three days.”
“Oh, you fixed it all right. You fixed it so well that you probably just exposed this entire room to the most lethal virus the world’s ever known.”
“But the virus is not contagious,” Lola said. “You said it needs a vector.”
“Needed is the appropriate word,” Charmin said as she liberally doused the entire area with bleach and started mopping. “The mucus that the virus generates is what keeps it from going airborne. But since Wonder Girl here just helped to break it up, Janice’s been breathing toxic fumes for the past twenty minutes.” She hit the giant red button on the wall.
An alarm sounded. A glass door slammed shut across the infirmary’s sole entrance. The room and its occupants were sealed off.
Chapter 10
Lola stared at Janice, at Charmin, and then at Frenchie. Her head became light as she felt the blood pooling in her ankles. This couldn’t be happening. The virus. The plague. Her hands went to her stomach as her body swayed back and forth.
“Woo there, missy,” Charmin said as she grabbed Lola and kept her upright in her wheelchair. “Don’t you go and pass out on me.” She guided Lola over to a bed.
The baby’s heart-rate was galloping twice as fast as hers. The placenta felt like it was ready to rip off the uterine wall. She felt nauseous. A metallic taste filled the back of her throat. Then the contractions started. Her abdomen cinched down as if she were trying to squeeze a basketball through a tube of toothpaste. The pressure kept up for a good 20 seconds and then abated.
Lola tried to catch her breath. Her body drenched with sweat. Every muscle ached. She tried to recall her Lamaze. Her breathing. And then she found her happy place; a beautiful fall meadow with white wheat swaying in the breeze. The backdrop was full of red, yellow, orange and green trees each at different stages. The sky was a brilliant blue. A flock of birds flew overhead in perfect formation. She could smell the air. And feel the breeze as butterflies sprung up behind her and filled the air with hundreds of colored pallets.
With her chest breathing complete, Lola opened her eyes as another crippling contraction started to build. She varied her breathing. The pain and pressure consumed her. Her belly was on fire trying to find any way possible to expel the fetus.
This wasn’t right. This isn’t how one gave birth. Lola’d barely had any Braxton Hicks contractions at all. Her body wasn’t prepared.
This was just a biological reaction to the virus. The baby hadn’t dropped into her pelvis yet. Lola pictured her husband talking to her, holding her hand, and describing their sunset. But her focus kept being pulled back to Frenchie, who was hyperventilating with her head between her legs, her whole body shak
ing from nervous energy.
Lola closed her eyes. Willing her body to relax and prepare for the next contraction. A sharp stab in her arm yanked her out of the cycle. She whipped toward the stimulus.
Charmin was nearby. Syringe in hand. “You’ll be fine. I just gave you and baby a little something to calm down.”
“But the Baby. It won’t affect the baby, will it?”
The next contraction began, but before it even reached a tenth of the power of the previous contractions, it peaked and backed down. Lola sighed and let her breathing slide back into autonomic control.
She cradled her womb. The baby’s foot pushed up to the top of her uterus and Lola was certain she could see a tiny footprint in the middle of her belly. “You’re okay sweetheart,” she whispered through her medical mask. “It’s not your time yet.”
Frenchie wept in the corner and mumbled into her arms. A few minutes later she looked up. “I’m sorry you guys,” Frenchie said, her voice muffled through tears and a mask. “I had no idea. I thought I was helping.”
“You had no way of knowing,” Lola said. “I thought you were helping her as well.”
“Oh, you helped her all right,” Charmin said. “Look at her vitals. Everything is close to normal and her color is returning. She just hasn’t woken up yet.”
“Yeah, but I may have chainmailed the rest of us. What are the chances that we caught the virus?”
“Time will tell.”
The back of Lola’s throat felt scratchy. The mucus congealed like rubber cement. It had only been an hour, but she knew that the virus was trying to claim her and her baby. She coughed and scoured the back of her throat to bring up the phlegm, but the cough was unproductive. Her breathing became labored, her energy started to wane. She stared at Frenchie, desperate for help from a virus that had killed people in less than 36 hours.
Chapter 11
Jared glanced at Juliet who was waiting for him at the clinic’s entrance. The last thing he wanted to do is leave? He squeezed Caroline’s good hand and glanced at her mangled left arm that had been set and casted. The blood flow to her left hand was compromised. If they wanted to save it, they had to act fast.
Charmin was prepping Caroline for surgery, but she needed a few more supplies. Unfortunately, the rest of the Shine group was either injured, sick, or on another mission forcing Jared to leave his daughter.
Once outside, Jared inhaled a deep breath. The cold, humid, Detroit air was almost painful, but he loved it. The dank air in the caves had been suffocating him for too long. He glanced at Juliet. She stood next to the warehouse, adjacent to the property’s fence. She waved him forward.
He ripped an icicle off the building, popped a piece of it in his mouth, and then sprinted across the yard. Juliet had covered the rules before they left. Stay low and in hiding until they were a block away from the mine’s entrance. He wasn’t sure how they were going to do that with a shopping cart full of supplies on their return. But he wasn’t going to argue.
They ducked as an old truck turned down the street, idled by and rounded the corner.
“Now,” Juliet said as she rounded the tractor. She lifted a section of fence open as if it were a doggy door, and dashed under it and across the street.
Jared tried to keep up with her, surprised at how fast and agile she was. He stopped behind a shed and found himself clutching his chest and surrounded by thick frosted clouds of his own creation.
“Keep moving,” Juliet said, not waiting for him to recoup.
Jared followed. With each step he lagged further behind. His side ached. He thought about sitting down. But the image of Caroline lying motionless in the infirmary pushed him forward.
Due to the medication, the pain, or her autistic tendencies, Caroline had stopped drinking, become dehydrated, and required an IV. Charmin had to keep her sedated so she didn’t continuously rip the IV out if her right arm or accidentally burn the place down.
Juliet walked down a short alley, checked for traffic, and then crossed the street.
Jared caught up to her. “How much further?” he asked, panting.
“A few miles to the nearest hospital.”
A half-mile later, she walked around the back of an old grocery store. The bay doors were decrepit and the 5-foot cement wall looked like trucks had tried to run themselves directly into the store. Juliet pulled a twelve-inch-wide sheet of metal out of the upper edge of the cargo-bay and set it on the ground. She motioned to Jared to do the same.
He pulled out a second sheet of metal and set it in its resting place about five feet away from the first.
Opening the cargo-bay doors, Jared found an old van reminiscent of long road trips with his scout troop too many years ago. The faded blue paint had seen better days and the rusted edges told of the type of care it’d had. The vehicle must’ve been at least twenty years old; hopefully this one was actually built “Ford tuff” and still ran since the manufacturer no longer existed.
Juliet jumped behind the wheel and backed down the ramp as if she’d done it a million times. A few moments later they were on the road with the shopping cart secured in the backseat right behind the big rear double doors. The radio blared one of the latest rap artists that Jared didn’t even attempt to follow. Juliet sang along.
He watched the passing trees and shrubbery. Most were leafless or dead, their empty limbs glistening with ice and snow. As they drove farther from the mine some of the sidewalks were shoveled and occasionally a house actually looked inhabited. One of them actually had a Christmas tree lit up in the front room.
Christmas. Damn. How long had he been locked in the mine? It couldn’t be Christmas already. He remembered Caroline two Christmases ago. Santa had brought her a puppy, a basset hound with long droopy ears and huge brown eyes. Jared and his wife had thought that the lazy dog would be about the right speed for Caroline. And he was, until the day Caroline’s powers showed up.
The dog had a few accidents. And although Caroline didn’t seem to mind the small puddles of urine and excrement on the carpet, Jared and her mom did. He lost it after the dog took the Thanksgiving turkey off the table He’d cursed at the dog, picked it up, dragged it outside and started spanking the puppy as if it had just killed someone. The dog yelped more than once, but Jared didn’t let go. Not until the ground froze beneath his feet and worked its way up his legs.
He turned towards the source. Caroline was on the ground glaring at him. Her eyes were so full of tears he was sure that she couldn’t see straight. Her hands were clenched into fists and her cheeks as red as apples. The frozen ground emanated from her feet and stretched out in a ten-foot circle.
Jared dropped the dog’s collar and ran to his daughter. The dog ran in the opposite direction. “Are you okay sweetie?” Jared asked.” “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He put his arms around her. Her hands were so frigid, they burned. He cradled her in his arms and carried her inside. It took two hot cups of cocoa to warm her up. But finally the unnatural smile came back. Unfortunately, the dog never did.
Jared wiped the tears from his eyes. Life had changed after that. Not only had his wife died, but something had awakened Caroline’s powers. Jared always wondered if it was him. If he hadn’t spanked the dog, would she be a Shine? Would she have gotten her powers? Life was hard enough without his wife and raising a mute-autistic child. He really didn’t need to deal with some uncontrollable superpowers.
His mind raced through more memories while he tried to hide his emotions from Juliet. He wanted his wife back. He wanted his life back. He wanted his daughter to have a chance at a normal life and there was only one way that was going to happen. He clutched the transmitter in his pocket. He had to get another message out. And this time he needed confirmation.
Juliet parked at the acute care entrance of a small hospital, just beyond the ambulance bay. “Do you have the list?” she asked.
Jared handed it to her. He’d already committed it to mem
ory.
“Good.” She ripped the list in half and handed it to him with a stack of twenty dollar bills. “Between the hospital, the pharmacy, and the drugstore across the street, we should be able to find most of these items. But some of them aren’t going to be for sale. You can leave money for whatever you take, but we have to come back with everything. Understand?”
“Got it,” Jared said. He hadn’t shoplifted since middle school. But he’d never thought about double-crossing his friends either. It was all for the greater good.
“Good. You start with the hospital and I’ll start across the street. We’ll meet back at the van in one hour. It’ll be unlocked.”
Jared checked the hospital’s pharmacy and bookstore. The only item from the list he found was a bottle of 600mg Robitussin, and that item was on Juliet’s portion of the list. He purchased the over-the-counter drug anyway and was heading back to the van when he saw a phone sitting on the counter. He glanced back towards the pharmacy and then ahead towards where the parking lot should be. The hospital was busy, but there were no teenage girls in sight.
He picked up the receiver and dialed the number he’d memorized.
“Hello,” a robotic female voice answered.
Jared cupped his hand around his mouth and the receiver and tried to slink around the corner. “Associate number 2928198BH. Seeking target confirmation.”
He waited a few seconds and then the robotic voice returned, “Patching you though.”
Was he actually going to get to talk to someone besides the automated dispatcher this time? He’d always left a voicemail when it was time to check-in. Their responses usually came through email from a generic account. His pulse thrummed in his ears.
“Talk,” a deep male voice said.
“This is Associate 2928198BH. I sent the Detroit Shine target base location earlier, but didn’t receive confirmation. Requesting extraction for me and my daughter.”
Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1) Page 112