by Sandra Bats
Dealing with his behavior made me want to join the herd while someone else made the decisions. I was tired as I returned to my office; tired of inventories and endless lists. Tired of friends turning into issues to deal with. Tired of it all.
◆◆◆
I wasn’t feeling better the day Alex’s detention time came to an end. Actually, I felt worse. I had used the time Alex was locked away to think about his future with us. More often than not I’d found myself thinking about one specific list I kept in my office. That list contained the names of those I’d lost, either to death or another departure.
It was tucked away in the bottom desk drawer. I didn’t even need the written record of it to remember all the names. That list was too long. A single name on the list would’ve made it too long. Every name was a personal failure of mine. Someday I’d likely have to put Alex on that list. There was a time, before his girlfriend had passed, when we’d been friends. At that point I was unsure whether he recalled what the word “friendship” meant.
It wasn’t just the Alex situation that made me feel bad. There was also the physical pain in my arm. Instead of the wound healing, the pain had increased. I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, carefully undoing the bandages to check on it.
I suspected some redness, but not what I found. Not only was the arm red and swollen, but my breath hitched when I saw the telltale red line of blood poisoning. Jane had taught me that blood poisoning could lead to a quick death. The only thing that could heal it was antibiotics.
We were out of antibiotics.
I forced myself to take a deep breath and re-bandaged my arm. I was surprised by my overwhelming fear at the prospect of dying. Somehow, I’d always expected my death would be a more violent one. A gunshot, maybe, or fighting some poor sap over food, rather than an infection.
There was no point in telling Jane, since I had no idea where to get antibiotics. I didn’t want to do that to her — it’d only make her feel guilty for not having the resources to treat me. I’d rather Jane believe the infection had gone completely unnoticed than worry about it for my remaining hours.
Hours. Strange. I wondered how many of those I had. The exhaustion I felt; I knew it would be hours. Not days.
If I told Cam, he’d steal the meds from town as he’d done for Nigel. He’d risk getting caught.
I pressed my palms to my head. I needed a solution. Alex. He’d gotten his morphine from a dealer and Jane had said it was high-grade stuff. I had to hit him up. But I couldn’t do it alone.
Just walking up the stairs to Cam’s second-floor room had me hunched over, catching my breath before I knocked. I felt my forehead. I didn’t seem to have a fever yet.
“What’s up?” Cam asked, opening the door.
I tried to not seem anxious. It was hard to focus on whether it was working. “So I was thinking about how close things were with Nigel when he had the flu. We still need a lot more meds and Alex said he got his morphine from a dealer. Maybe that guy could also get us antibiotics.”
“I thought you didn’t like deciding things like that in a hurry.” Cam sounded suspicious.
I shrugged. “You never know. Anybody could get sick. Besides, it would be a good opportunity to check whether Alex told the truth. Make sure he didn’t give out misinformation.”
If Cam thought something was up he didn’t let me know. Instead, he followed me down to Alex’s cell.
“You here to let me out?” Alex sneered.
“Not yet. We’ve got questions about the guy you got your pills from,” I said.
Alex raised an eyebrow, then gestured for me to go on. I wasn’t overly friendly when I asked whether his dealer could get us antibiotics. His silence instead of an answer riled me up even more.
I questioned him again and that time he at least responded that the guy might have the stuff we needed. When I wanted to know where to find this guy, Alex seized up again. It was like pulling teeth with him. I inquired again and he demanded to know why he should tell me.
I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. His face was pressed against the wall. Luckily, my left hand was my dominant hand. I didn’t have to rely on my injured arm too much.
“If you value your stupid existence you’ll cut the shit and tell me,” I snarled. I knew full well I was overreacting. Cam remained quiet, but stepped into the cell. I wasn’t sure if it was for my safety or Alex’s.
“The market on Dwaine’s Road. He’s in the bar,” Alex spat.
“Name?” I twisted his arm further.
“Sean. He’s there every night from seven onwards.”
I let go of Alex and took a step back. He rubbed his arm and called me an asshole. I probably deserved it, so I let it slide. I’d gotten what I wanted.
“What was that about?” Cam asked when he caught up with me after locking the cell.
I suppressed violent shakes that seemed to stem more from exhaustion than anger. My arm throbbed with almost blinding pain. I managed to lie about having been annoyed with Alex’s antics. I didn’t know if Cam believed that I was simply fed up with Alex. If Cam suspected there was more to it, he didn’t say a word.
◆◆◆
Six hours can turn into an awfully long time if they stand between you and the possibility of not dying. I spent them reminiscing. I spent them walking the hallways. Then I spent them in my office, staring at the guitar in my corner. Jane had brought it to me for another injury. Another bullet wound, also on my right arm. She’d told me it was good physical therapy for my finer motor skills. I’d laughed at her back then. At that moment, however, I wished my arm didn’t hurt so much that just the idea of picking up the old thing to play a couple cords made me flinch in pain.
I grew restless as the evening got closer. At the rate my symptoms were progressing, I assumed I had less than twenty-four hours. I longed for the life I was about to lose. The opportunities I might be missing. I wondered what would happen to everyone I knew. Surprisingly often, I wondered what would happen to Elin. If she’d stay. If she’d miss me. If she’d learn to trust other people.
By dinner time I had chills from the fever. When I joined Cam and Elin in the cafeteria the mere thought of food made me nauseous. I poked at the moose stew to keep up appearances. Tried to follow the conversation. I guess I missed vital parts of it, because suddenly Cam was staring at me.
“Man, you look like hell,” he stated.
“I’m fine.” I waved him off, but Elin placed her slender hand against my forehead. Her fingers were pleasantly cold against my skin.
“You’re burning up,” she quietly said.
I tried to deny that anything was wrong, but neither of them would have it. They steered me towards Jane’s room. My secret was out when Cam told Jane about the fever. Asking questions, Jane was prepared to examine me, but I lifted a hand to stop her.
“You don’t need to check me for anything.” I squeezed my eyes shut against the nausea and dizziness.
“Nonsense. You’re obviously sick —” Jane objected, but I cut her off.
“I know. I mean, I know what it is. It’s blood poisoning.” I slipped my shirt off, showing her my arm.
“Oh my … Jayden!” Jane’s nimble fingers undid the bandage. “Why didn’t you say something? When did you notice?”
“Around noon,” I quietly admitted. “I know we’re out of antibiotics, so there was no point in coming here. I’ve been trying to find a solution instead.”
“Are you stupid? You should’ve come here immediately!” Jane raised her voice. She never raised her voice.
I explained that it wouldn’t have helped if I had. What was done was done. Camden cussed, calling me a few colorful names, “idiot” being the nicest of them. Eventually, he calmed down, looking away from me and at Jane. I had a hard time following their conversation. They were talking too quietly but I figured it was probably about what Jane needed to do to keep me alive. Elin spoke louder, offering to help Cam get the antibiotics.
&
nbsp; I tried to object. It was one thing if Cam risked his life for me. We’d been friends for so long I knew there was no point in arguing with him. Elin was new. She didn’t have to try to save my life. My problems shouldn’t have been on her shoulders. I tried explaining that. Even tried to play the card that it was still my decision who went on missions. Cam fixed me with a look he usually reserved for Josh. Like I was a child being reprimanded.
“For now, you’ve lost your right to make decisions. If she wants to come, she can,” Cam said.
“Camden,” I addressed my best friend, trying to somehow convey the worries I had about Elin’s safety. I didn’t want something to happen to her because of me.
Cam shook his head. “You should trust that I know what I’m doing. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He threw the last sentence at me like it was supposed to keep me alive. The promise of the next meal was a sort of good luck charm for us. It kept us from doing something stupid. From getting killed so we could taste that next meal. It had simply started out as an inside joke but had stuck with the guys on patrol and now it was supposed to keep me alive till morning.
Cam left the room and Elin prepared to follow him but I called her back. I asked why she was so eager to return to town. She smiled grimly and stepped closer so Jane couldn’t hear her.
“You’re the first friend of sorts I’ve had in a long time. I’d hate to stand by and watch you die.”
When she leaned in — very unlike her — and quickly hugged me, warmth spread to my cheeks. Probably just the fever messing with my body. I couldn’t keep my mouth from speaking words I hadn’t allowed it to say.
“Be careful,” I urged.
“Don’t you dare die,” Elin said, then rushed from the room without another glance.
Nine
Elin
“Do you think he’ll make it?” I asked Cam. The question had been burning on my tongue since we left Jane’s room. Now that we were about to climb onto the motorcycle to ride into town, I had to ask it.
Cam frowned, and I could see the worry on his face. Cam was seven years older than me, and at that moment, those years showed.
Eventually, he sighed. “I hope so. Jane’s buying us time and she’s great at what she does. And Jay, though he wasted time today, doesn’t want to die. He’ll fight with all he has.”
I climbed onto the motorcycle behind Cam, hoping he was right.
The black market was on the other side of town, and the fastest way there was through the city center, where I hadn’t been for a long time. It was another world from the outer sectors where wooden houses slowly fell apart because their owners couldn’t afford basic upkeep. The city center boasted seemingly endless towers made from stainless steel and glass, giving it a sophisticated but detached feel. Hover ships — the preferred method of transportation for those who could afford to escape the crammed streets — flew over the skyscrapers. The constant whirr of engines filled the air, almost drowning out the masses of people on the ground.
Night had fallen, and floodlights illuminated the streets. Some of the towers featured large flames on the tops of their chimneys. Those gas flares were supposed to burn gases produced in the buildings’ garbage management systems. Despite that, pollution was much worse in the city than in the outer sectors, where the stars were at least sometimes visible. In the city, the floodlights reflecting off the stainless steel sparkled against the impenetrable layer of haze and clouds, making the city appear horrific and beautiful in equal measure.
I knew of the horrors hidden inside some of these buildings. I was glad we were just passing through the city center, back into another poor area on the outskirts. The houses there were shabbier, but I found them ultimately more welcoming than the intangibility of the city’s stainless steel.
Cam stopped the bike in front of an old tavern and I glanced around, noticing a few soldiers patrolling the streets. The police departments were dismantled long ago due to their inadequate handling of the first revolts, and ever since that time, the military regulated everything. Military police had taken control of things, but they didn’t pay attention to us. The black market was illegal, of course, but depending on what you were trading — if it was useful for the person catching you — you had a good chance of bribing one of the marshals into turning a blind eye by cutting them a share. Or you avoided it all by not getting caught.
Tentatively, I followed Cam into the tavern and up to the bar. A bartender stood behind an old, massive counter, and looked up from the drink he was fixing as we entered.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“We’re looking for Sean,” Cam said.
“Who wants to find him?” a guy sitting at the counter interjected.
“Alex sent us,” Cam lied and the guy eyed us. His hair was almost black and his eyes equally dark. After a few moments, he reached his hand out to Cam.
“Lucky you. I’m Sean. How about we go out back for some privacy?”
Sean led us behind the bar to the back door and into a small alley, which smelled of garbage. A few rats scurried from the trash bags, disturbed by our appearance on their turf.
“What can I do for you?” Sean analyzed us, probably to determine whether we were a threat.
“We heard that you trade. We need antibiotics,” Cam started.
“How much?”
“How much can you get?” Cam asked.
Sean chuckled. “You misunderstood me. How much are you willing to pay?”
Telling him how much we had to offer made it easy for Sean to demand it all, whereas if we had too little he might not consider trading with us. Cam quietly opened the backpack, holding it open for Sean to see. I supposed it didn’t matter because we would’ve paid any price to get those antibiotics in time. Sean rummaged through the bag for a moment, then told us its contents wouldn’t get us much, just some oral antibiotics.
“We need more. The good stuff,” Cam responded, and my heart sped up in fear that he’d deny us.
“Well, it’s winter. Everybody needs more,” Sean responded, then gazed at me. “I’d give you more in exchange for her, though.”
Cam ignored the comment, implying we’d simply walk from the deal but I knew he was bluffing. Oral antibiotics were better than nothing. When Cam turned his back, Sean raised his voice again. “Right now, everybody needs meds and they all trade ammo. Things I can actually turn into money work better. Like jewelry or electronics.”
Cam’s shoulders sunk as he admitted to not having either of those things, but I shakily pulled my locket from under my shirt, holding it out for Sean to see.
The jade stones encased in gold glistened and flickered in the illuminating streetlights in the tiny alley. Sean stepped closer to take a look. I let him touch the necklace but didn’t take it off.
“That’s quite a pretty piece,” he muttered, sounding astonished.
A girl like me didn’t usually possess such beautiful jewelry. The guy I had stolen it from must have either been filthy rich, or it had been an heirloom. Sean contemplated, examining the locket.
“A bottle of four fluid ounces of antibiotic concentrate,” he finally said. “If I get the necklace and the ammo.”
Cam agreed and Sean instructed us to wait a few moments, disappearing into the dark. All we heard were his footsteps as he quickly paced down the alley.
Cam restlessly checked his watch while we waited in silence. For a second, I asked myself why he hadn’t offered that for medicine, but then the light shone onto it. It was hardly jewelry, just plastic that showed the time, miles apart from the watch I’d seen on Jayden’s desk once — a small pocket watch with a golden chain and clock-face.
Sean only took a few minutes, but they trickled by as though they were hours. When he returned, he held a small bottle with clear liquid out to me. I hesitated before taking it, asking how we could be sure it wasn’t water.
Sean grinned. “You can’t.”
We had no choice but to trust him, so I re
ached behind my neck to take the amulet off, then dropped it into Sean’s hand. I snatched the bottle from him before he could change his mind and Cam shoved the backpack over as well, obviously eager to get out of the ill-smelling alley. Without another look, Cam made his way back to the door and I followed him inside the bar. Sean’s parting words seemed to only be meant for me.
“I hope to see you again sometime.”
Coming from him, they were more like a dark premonition than a goodbye.
I safely tucked the bottle inside my jacket pocket, double-checking that it was secure. Nobody was following us, but the fear coursing through me was the same as when we’d been followed by the MPs after the ammunition heist. This time, I was afraid of what awaited us back home. The thought of Jayden possibly dying left a bone deep-feeling of fear. Surely it would be something they wouldn’t recover from well at the school.
◆◆◆
When we finally reached the school, both Cam and I hurried into Jane’s office without bothering to knock. Jane looked up right away when I entered, abandoning her chair by the hospital bed in the back. I glanced at Jayden, who appeared to be asleep. His hands and legs were restrained at the sides of the bed with belts.
Jane sighed. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“What’s with those?” Cam indicated the restraints.
“He was hallucinating from the fever and didn’t remember where he was. He thought he was back … he thought he needed to fight me,” Jane explained and she and Cam shared a knowing look. “His temperature is above 104°. I administered fluids to keep his body working, but that can only do so much. You got the antibiotics?”
I held the bottle out to her and Jane took it carefully, as if afraid of dropping it, as she studied the label to confirm it was the right thing. She instantly filled a syringe and injected Jayden with the liquid. He tossed a little but his eyes remained closed. Sweat lined his forehead and his lips were pale, despite him moving and muttering in his sleep every few minutes.