“Meghan! I mean, Dr. Forester.” Bethany eyed me sheepishly.
“Please, call me Meghan. Did the admittance procedure go okay?” I had to look up at Bethany. She was tall. At least five-ten. Her friend was around my height, though. Five-six.
Bethany nodded tightly. “Yeah. It was fine.”
Her wide, doe-like eyes were a dark chocolate brown. It was similar to the shade of her skin. Bethany still gripped her pregnant friend’s hand and then nodded in her direction. “This is my sister, Makayla.”
So not a friend, but a sister.
“Nice to meet you.” I held out my right hand tentatively and had to bite back a grimace when Makayla’s strong grip pumped my arm.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Dr. Forester,” Makayla replied when she let go. Corkscrew curls sprang from Makayla’s head in a stylish afro. That coupled with full lips bathed in a deep-red lipstick made her very pretty. “Thank you for helping my sister. She said you’re going to find a cure.” She rested her hand on top of her protruding belly. Unlike Bethany, Makayla wore a normal winter coat since she was Makanza-free. But her jacket remained open to give her ample stomach room.
“Well, we’re certainly going to try.”
The guards stationed near the entrance eyed us. It was probably the most interesting interaction they’d seen in years.
“Will you both follow me?” I nodded toward the back hallways.
I led the two women through the maze of corridors into the Compound while explaining what our plans were for the morning. “The first thing we’re going to do is obtain fresh samples from you, Bethany. I hope that’s all right.”
Our shoes tapped along the concrete as we traveled past the blinding white walls.
Bethany nodded, but her mouth tightened.
“We can extract those samples in the lab. There’s no need to venture to the Experimental Room,” I explained.
Bethany let out a shaky breath and smiled. “Oh, good. Then yeah, that’s fine.”
Makayla merely raised an eyebrow at her sister. I guessed that Bethany had yet to divulge the more painful experiences she’d been subjected to during the past ten years.
We turned down the next hall. Since it was so wide, all three of us walked alongside one another. Thankfully, neither commented on the slow pace I’d set. I could only hope they thought I walked slowly to accommodate Makayla’s waddling.
“After we have fresh samples, I’d like to have our lead physician examine you.” I brought my right arm closer to my side so it would stop jostling. “While the MRI endeavors to discover a cure, I think it’s prudent that we also consider alternatives. It’s possible your wings may be removed surgically. He’ll let us know if that’s an option.”
Bethany balked. “You mean . . . cut them off?”
When we reached our first access door, I scanned my badge and placed my palm against the handprint scanner. After it flashed green, I pulled the door open. Pain again seared through my chest.
I stifled a groan. “Yes, that’s what I mean. It’s one alternative if a cure isn’t possible. It’s also something we can consider if developing a cure takes years.”
Bethany wrung her hands together as we stepped through the door and approached the lab. “Um . . . okay. I guess that would work, but I was really hoping for a cure. You know, so I could be normal again.”
I stopped outside the lab. Through the long stretch of windows that ran the length of the hallway, I spotted Mitch. He was pipetting a solution at his bench. Amy and Charlie were also at their lab stations. Amy’s red hair was like a bright flag drawing attention.
“We’ll try really hard to find a cure, but we also need to be realistic. It’s possible we’ll never find one.”
Bethany’s face fell.
Makayla put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, sis. You can still have surgery.”
Bethany nodded mutely just as my cell phone buzzed. Reaching into my back pocket with my good arm, I pulled it out.
A text message from Davin appeared. My breath stopped.
It was only two words.
Meghan. Please.
My throat tightened at his quiet plea. For a moment, all I could do was stare at those words. My lips trembled as the last word leaped out at me. Please.
Shoving it back into my pocket, I took an unsteady breath and blinked rapidly. Once again, tears threatened to overwhelm me. I can’t think about him right now. I need to help Bethany.
Swallowing down the rising emotional tide of betrayal, unrequited love, and that niggling doubt, I opened the lab door.
With a forced smile, I said, “Follow me.”
THE MORNING AND afternoon passed in a blur. Bethany complied with all of the tests and procedures that we asked of her. It was only when she removed her cloak during Dr. Fisher’s examination that I saw the extent of the Changes Makanza had made in her.
Long, thin skin hung from her arms. When she spread her arms wide, that skin stretched taut. She demonstrated how she flew. Leaping gracefully from the metal railing platform above our lab station, she soared around the expansive room. At times, she flapped her arms, causing her to stay aloft.
With the labs twenty-foot high walls, she didn’t have much room to show off her skills, but it still made my mouth drop.
A few times, I screeched in concern when I thought she would collide with a wall, but each time she turned effortlessly and continued to fly. Luckily, she appeared fully healed from the wound she’d suffered within Reservation 1—when she’d been shot from the sky.
“Pretty wicked.” Charlie shook his head as the six of us stood in the corner. He crossed his thin arms over his chest. With jet black hair, slanted eyes, and a small Asian build, Charlie wasn’t much bigger than me. “Flying must come in handy sometimes.”
Mitch chuckled. “Are you jealous you’re not batman?”
Charlie opened his mouth to respond, but I elbowed him before he could. Makayla watched them from the corner of her eye, and from the discontented frown on her face, my guess was that she didn’t enjoy their joking.
Clasping her hands in front of her protruding belly, Makayla turned her attention back to her sister.
Bethany cupped her wings and glided to the floor. She had to hop a few times before she came to a complete stop. From there, she ran to her cloak and quickly donned it. It took a few adjustments before all of her loose skin was tucked under the long material. From there, she hurried to her sister’s side.
Makayla put an arm around her and squeezed.
“That was amazing.” I stepped closer to Bethany.
Keeping her gaze on the floor, Bethany shrugged. “Sometimes I enjoy it, but it’s not worth . . .” She lifted an arm and her skin peeked out. “This.”
Nodding, I smiled sadly. Being different was never easy. “I understand.”
Dr. Fisher finished typing something on his tablet before he approached. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he said, “Why don’t you all get some lunch and then come to my office. I’m hoping to have the results of your tests by then.”
Bethany nodded but kept her eyes downcast.
Flanking Makayla’s side, Amy jerked her chin toward the door. “Come on. I’ll lead the way.”
IT WAS MID-AFTERNOON when we stepped out of the cafeteria. Other MRI employees passed us in the hallway on their way into and out of the cafeteria. I stepped closer to the wall so none of them would brush against me.
The large vent above us hummed. A slight draft ruffled the hair around my shoulders. Peeking under my shirt, I breathed a sigh of relief that my wound wasn’t bleeding through again. I’d already changed the bandage twice.
Amy was frowning when I looked back up. “See you back at the lab when you’re done?” she asked.
Her gaze was knowing as she watched me. I knew she hadn’t missed when I’d slipped away twice during the morning to change my bandage. I also knew she’d seen me discreetly swallow more pain pills during lunch.
I tucked a strand
of long, brown hair behind my ear. Her gaze reminded me of the look my mother had given me the other day. “Yeah, see you then.”
Mitch and Charlie waved goodbye. As I turned to leave with Bethany and Makayla, Amy grabbed my hand.
“Meghan? Are you sure you should be here?” Amy’s voice was low, but I still caught Bethany’s frown when she overheard my co-worker.
I carefully pulled my hand away and gave Amy a pointed look. “Yes, I’m sure I should be here.”
Amy sighed heavily, her brow furrowing. I could tell she wanted to say more, but when I nodded toward Bethany and her sister, Amy straightened.
“Okay, see you back at the lab. We have a lot to discuss.” Her eyes glittered.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. Thankfully, my back was to our guests so they couldn’t see.
When Amy finally strode after Mitch and Charlie, Bethany’s frown grew.
Smiling brightly, I made myself walk at a normal pace even though my wound throbbed. I guessed Bethany would willingly slow her pace to accommodate my injury, but I didn’t want her focus shifted to me. She had enough to deal with already so I internally gritted my teeth. “This way.”
Ten minutes later, tears threatened to fill my eyes at how bad the pain was. Thankfully, Dr. Fisher’s office was within view. It had been a hike to his office since it was in a completely separate wing. We should have taken the rail system.
Dr. Fisher’s secretary nodded to his door when we approached. “He’s expecting you. Please go in.”
Inside, Dr. Fisher sat at his desk and waved us forward. Compound 26’s lead physician was not the picture of health. He had to be in his fifties, with balding hair and a paunch belly, but his wealth of knowledge about diseases and conditions surpassed that of any medical student graduating these days.
His office was similar to those in upper administration. There was a large desk, chairs in front of it for patients or visitors, a lounging couch along one wall, several full bookshelves, and a small bar in the corner. But best of all was the large window on the far wall. Outside, snowy prairie stretched across the land. From the third floor, it was a pretty view.
I glanced at the couch. It was perfect for someone to sit on while having a long chat with the physician.
Is that where Davin used to sit?
I pushed that thought away.
“Please, have a seat.” The doctor waved at the chairs in front of his desk.
The three of us settled onto them. A sigh of relief escaped me. I hated to admit it, but it felt so good to rest.
“Now, I’m sure you’re anxious to hear your results.” Dr. Fisher leaned forward, his brow furrowing. “But I’m afraid the results aren’t good.”
Bethany frowned. “Oh?”
Dr. Fisher took off his glasses. Sunlight streamed in through the large window, setting his desktop aglow. “The scans show that various large arteries supply blood to your wings. Of course, we already knew that from what we know of strain 15, however, in your case, the arteries are even larger than normal. Given their size, I’m very hesitant to surgically remove your wings. There’s a strong possibility you’d hemorrhage on the operating table.”
My shoulders fell.
“Hemorrhage?” Makayla’s eyebrows drew together.
“Bleed to death.” Dr. Fisher clarified.
“Really? Surgery’s not an option at all?” Bethany’s voice rose.
Dr. Fisher nodded sadly. “That’s correct. It’s not an option.”
“But surely there must be a way. Can’t you just, I don’t know, pinch off the vessels so I don’t bleed?”
Dr. Fisher shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. It would be a very risky surgery.”
Makayla covered her sister’s hand and said, “But surely you could do it. You’re the best, aren’t you, if you work here?”
The physician sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not the news you wanted to hear, but surgery is not an option. There would be a high chance you wouldn’t survive it. I won’t take that risk.”
At least ten seconds of silence followed.
Bethany’s lips quivered. “I see.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked down. “So the only way for me to ever be normal is a cure.”
“At this point, yes,” Dr. Fisher replied. “But there’s always the possibility that a surgeon who’s skilled enough could remove the excess skin under your arms, but given how few skilled surgeons exist today—it’s not likely.”
Tears filled Bethany’s eyes. I placed my hand over hers.
Dr. Fisher’s voice softened. “I’m sorry to deliver this news to you, but it’s important that you know the truth—as hard as that is.”
Bethany nodded. Large tears fell onto her cheeks.
“Can you give us a minute?” Makayla asked. She inched closer to her sister and put her arm around her.
Dr. Fisher and I stood from our chairs and retreated to the hall. Bethany’s quiet sobs faded behind us but ignited my desire to try harder. However, I quickly learned that Dr. Fisher’s attention had not only been on Bethany.
Once in the privacy of the hallway, the physician crossed his arms. “Dr. Forester, you don’t look well. I question if you’re healthy enough to be here.” He leaned closer, assessing me with a clinical gaze. “The entire country knows you were shot last week.”
I stiffened as his probing eyes wandered over my frame. I knew everyone had good intentions, and their worry came from genuine concern, but I still hated all of the attention my wound had garnered today. Despite pain rolling through me in steady, throbbing waves, I managed a tight smile.
“I’m fine. It’s Bethany we need to concentrate on. Is there really nothing you can do for her?”
The physician shook his head. With a sad smile, his next words hit home. “I’m sorry, Dr. Forester, but I’m afraid finding a solution is going to fall upon the MRI’s shoulders.”
THE REST OF the day I barely kept it together. My wound ached so deeply it felt like my bones were being squeezed. And Bethany and Makayla’s tears only added to the pressure that weighed down on me like a heavy, sinking anchor.
I knew finding a cure wasn’t entirely up to me. The MRI employed thousands of scientists. Working together, we’d developed the vaccine. And together we could find a cure.
Still . . .
For so many months the Kazzies had turned to me for help. I’d become the beacon of light to so many of them, promising a brighter future full of hope. So when Bethany gripped my hands and pleaded with me to find a cure before she and her sister departed for the day—it felt like if we didn’t, I’d have failed her. Not my co-workers. Not the Makanza Research Institute.
Me.
Amy seemed to sense how heavy my heart was when I returned to the lab. She didn’t press me to discuss anything. Nor did she question when I packed my things to leave. It was only four in the afternoon, yet I couldn’t work anymore. Between my throbbing injury and Bethany’s solemn eyes—for the first time in my entire career—I just couldn’t.
“Rest tomorrow.” Amy’s quiet words filled my ears as she sidled next to me at our lab station. “I mean it, Meghan. Don’t come to work. You’re so pale you make chalk look colorful.”
I managed a humorless smile at her joke. “We’ll see. I may feel better tomorrow.”
Amy eyed my shirt and frowned.
I followed her gaze. A fresh spot of blood stained my blouse. It had obviously seeped through my wound since I hadn’t changed my bandage since lunch.
“Stay home, Meghan. I mean it. If Dr. Sadowsky saw that, he’d ban you from work.” She squeezed my good hand and gave me a reassuring smile before I left.
BACK AT MY apartment building, I again had to fight through a swarm of reporters to reach the main door. By the time I was inside my tiny home, all I wanted was to sink to the floor, close my eyes, and make the world disappear.
Forcing myself into the bathroom, I carefully lifted my shirt before peeling off the saturated bandage
.
The ugly, red wound on my chest stared back at me. In the mirror, it looked like a battle wound. As if I’d gone to war and fought in actual combat.
Scrunching my nose up, I washed and redressed it before pulling on a loose sweatshirt and sweatpants. I knew my wound was bleeding too much. I also knew why.
I was overdoing it. Just like my mother feared.
Back in the living room, I gingerly lay down on the couch and closed my eyes, but a sharp knock from my front door had them flashing open.
I tensed.
Images of reporters hovering in the hallway filled my mind. Pushing to a stand, I tiptoed to the door and listened.
Nothing.
If it was reporters, they were breaking the law by coming directly to my door. Looking through the peephole, I cursed that it was too foggy to see who it was. I hadn’t cleaned the old lens recently, but from the distorted image it appeared to be a lone person.
Surely, it’s not a reporter. They know better.
Pushing aside my worry, I grasped the door handle and pulled it open. The sight that greeted me had my eyes widening and heart pounding.
Bright-blue eyes that glittered like sapphires stared back at me. Midnight hair that curled at the ends looked as if the occupant had run his hands through it for days on end.
My heart caught in my throat as Davin’s tall form filled my apartment’s doorway. His uniquely alluring scent of soap and aftershave wafted toward me. My head spun.
“Davin,” I whispered.
His hands balled tightly as a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Meghan, we need to talk.”
4 – UNEXPECTED VISIT
“I . . .” The words wouldn’t come out. Davin stood before me. In my apartment building. Free from Compound 26 and Reservation 1. In the real world.
How long have I dreamed of this moment? To have him here and free? Pain welled up inside me like a geyser that threatened to blow. But that was before Jenna. When everything was still okay.
The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4 Page 89