by Jo Holloway
“Which would have been nice to know when Tomyx led me to it and told me how to use it,” Wes grumbled.
“What else do we need to know?” Her words were as tense as the mood in the van. “You’re not coming in with us, so now’s the time to tell us the rest. What happens with Livyx, assuming everything goes well?”
“She goes into the frog, you put the frog pyxis in the pottery pyxis, and you close the lid. That’s it,” Tomyx replied. “Don’t open the lid again, and bring it out here to us.”
“And then what?” She glared at the cat.
“And then we’ll tell you more.”
She turned to face forward as the car fell back into silence for the remainder of the drive. There was a lot to digest.
Rhys pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and turned off the car. He twisted in his seat to look at them all.
“I won’t blame you if you don’t want to come in with me. I don’t want to ask you to. I don’t want anyone else to get in trouble. She’s my sister, and I’ll do it alone if I need to. You’ve all done more than I could have expected already, considering how I acted toward you at first.”
“Forget that. I’m coming.” Jory undid his seatbelt and started to move.
“I think we all are. Right, Wes?” She locked eyes with her Pyxsee friend, and he grabbed the pyxis as an answer. He opened the top of the glass terrarium, pulled out the frog, and tucked it inside the pottery box.
“Do not forget, Wesley—make the frog the easiest choice. Close to her head.”
Wes nodded at Jenner and hoisted the pyxis under his arm.
Cara took a deep breath and opened her door.
CHAPTER 25
Please Live
HER HEART POUNDED ALL the way down the hall. She tried to act casual.
Just a group of friends going to visit another friend. One foot in front of the other, Cara.
They entered the room to find one of the nurses fussing with Liv’s feeding tube. “Oh, Rhys, I should have expected you. I can come back when you’re done visiting. Oh, wonderful, you brought friends to see her too.”
“Thanks. You can leave it. I know how to give it to her.” Rhys stepped up to the bed.
“Of course you do. I’ll come back to check on her later, then. Give a holler if you need any help.” The nurse left the room.
They were alone. Wes shut the door.
The tension of the drive had followed them inside. Short, fast breaths came from all of them.
“Everyone okay?” Rhys asked.
They all nodded, though Jory was propped against the wall, looking sick to his stomach. Wes set the pottery vessel on the counter along one side of the room and pulled out the frog. It made no move to escape his two-handed grasp. Cara stepped up to the bed beside Rhys, and Wes circled to the far side. Her heart clawed against the cage around it, straining to beat or escape her body entirely. She gazed at Liv’s blank face, and her shoulders rolled forward at the ache in her chest.
Rhys took Liv’s hand and leaned low over her. He spoke so softly, Cara couldn’t make out much, but she caught occasional words like “hope” and “fight” and “please forgive me” at the end. A lump rose in her throat.
When he stood up again, he pulled the small vial and a syringe from his pocket. His eyes glistened. A tear slid down Cara’s cheek.
“We should hurry.” His voice was clear, not betraying what must be going on behind it.
Where was he finding the strength? The ghostly pale hand he held twitched and squeezed his, and she knew. She wiped away her tear. He couldn’t be the strong one for all of them. He had to focus on Liv. Wes’s face was somber but resolved. Jory was still propping up the wall, but he was on his feet, and they didn’t need him to do much, anyway.
Cara took a deep breath and focused inward, sensing the Pyx in the room. “Livyx—she feels different. The feeling I had before isn’t as strong now. I don’t think she’ll be much danger, but she’s . . . scared, maybe? Or maybe that’s just me. I can’t tell. I think she knows there are a bunch of Pyxsees in this room. It feels like she’s scared of us. I’m not sure.”
“Jory needs to stay over there,” Wes said. “If she’s scared of Pyxsees, he’d be the one at the most risk. Actually, you should wait in the hall.”
He turned to him and implored Jory to leave, but their steadfast friend wouldn’t move no matter what color his face was turning—which was actually a complete lack of color. He stared silently ahead, his eyes fixed on Liv’s fragile outline in the bed.
Wes gave a tiny shake of his head. Then he reached out, holding the frog in one hand, and held it on the pillow. Liv’s eyes flicked briefly to the foot of the bed, but she gave no other sign of recognition, and her hands slackened again.
Rhys filled the syringe with the calculated amount they’d marked on it.
He looked to the ceiling and then at each of their faces, and took the IV-line port in his hand. The other hand shook as he brought the needle close.
“Here, let me,” Cara said.
“No.” He was firm. “If this doesn’t work, I’m not making you a murderer.”
She gulped.
He took a steadying breath.
The needle stabilized and found its way through the rubber port.
He closed his eyes. His hand pressed the plunger.
Cara moved quickly. She grabbed the vial and the syringe from his hand as soon as he withdrew it. She capped the needle and wrapped the evidence in a cloth. She slid the package into a sunglasses case and stashed it in her pocket. She’d dispose of it as soon as they were out of here.
Rhys had his fingers on his sister’s neck, keeping track of her pulse.
Her eyelids fluttered. Her breathing grew shallow.
Rhys nodded; he could feel her heartbeat slowing.
They waited. It felt like hours, but only six minutes had passed when Cara checked her watch. Then Liv gasped.
They all jumped. Even Jory finally moved from the wall, darting forward. Wes raised his free hand to warn Jory to back off. He stepped back again, swaying on his feet.
No one spoke as they watched the girl in the bed.
Her breathing grew shallow again, until Cara could barely make out the rise and fall of her ribs on the bed. Long gaps stretched between each barely perceptible movement. Every time, Cara waited to see a change in Rhys’s face, but he stared steadfastly at his watch, and eventually another tiny breath followed. Until it didn’t.
She watched Liv’s face, too, and saw the moment the life left her.
Her pupils flowed outward, pushing aside the pale-blue irises, leaving only vacancy in their place.
Her body relaxed.
Rhys tensed.
He choked back a feeble sound and nodded.
All three Pyxsees leaned in, watching. Waiting.
Cara felt it—like a huge pressure bubble releasing inside her. It rose from her core and burst out from her chest. Air escaped her mouth as the feeling from Livyx punched the breath from her lungs. She fought to inhale again. Somehow, she kept her eyes on Liv’s. Rhys glanced at her quickly before turning back to his sister. He must be taking hope that her gasp meant something was happening.
It was. A green gleam passed over Liv’s lifeless eyes. Then it was gone.
The frog’s bulging eyes flashed green.
The room exploded into motion.
Rhys jumped onto the bed beside Liv and started chest compressions. Wes thrust the frog across the bed into Cara’s outstretched hand. She whirled and placed it inside the clay pyxis, setting the lid carefully in place. It sealed with a snug fit.
Only Jory stood frozen. He had to know what had happened. He knew they wouldn’t be moving so quickly if it hadn’t worked. But he was transfixed, watching Rhys deliver CPR.
“Go,” Cara cried. But Wes had already gone. He raced past Jory.
His footsteps echoed down the hall as he ran for help. A minute later, he rushed back into the room as the announcement boomed over t
he hospital speakers. Liv’s room number was repeated with the code, and repeated again. Doctors were called. Help was on the way.
They just had to keep her going until then.
There was nothing more they could do that Rhys wasn’t already doing. Wes took the pyxis from the counter and steered Jory out to the hall. They’d have to make room, anyway.
Cara moved the visitor’s chair away from the bed to clear the space and then took Liv’s hand. “Fight,” she whispered. “We saw how strong you are. Now fight again.”
Hands shoved her back as bodies poured into the room, wheeling equipment in with them. She pressed against the counter. A man in scrubs relieved Rhys of his position, and the bed jerked as two people yanked it away from the wall to give the team more room. A woman brushed past Cara, not even noticing her in the chaos. Rhys wound up beside her against the counter in the corner. Sweat poured from his brow, though he was the same white-grey color as the wall behind them. His eyes, huge with terror, stared at his sister’s face until the people working to save her life crowded in and hid it from view.
Shouts and orders sounded as the medical staff rushed to their duties. It was a wonder they didn’t trip over each other in their violent ballet. A woman hooked Liv up to a monitor. A thin line blipped in time with the compressions. The line flattened as the man who’d replaced Rhys paused. Another doctor set up the defibrillator.
“Asystole,” called the woman at the monitor.
“One milligram epinephrine in,” barked the woman who’d brushed by her, now working at Liv’s arm with the IV line.
Another man bent near Liv’s head, and Cara couldn’t tell what he was doing until he shouted, “Airway secure.” They didn’t shock her yet, and the man leaning over Liv resumed CPR so the line on the monitor ticked up and down again.
She was in the middle of one of those tv medical dramas, except this one wasn’t entertaining in the slightest. Her stomach hardened to a solid knot, and she breathed sharply through her nose.
Her body felt chilled, but her hand was warm. She looked down. Rhys gripped her hand with white knuckles. When had he done that? Her eyes rose to his face, but he was staring into blank space. She was just his anchor, keeping him from running in horror at what they’d done. Keeping him from slumping to the floor with despair.
Liv’s legs were all she could see of the girl, and they moved rhythmically on the bed from the brutal chest compressions. Cara checked her watch. Four minutes had passed since Wes had raced from the room. It had been another twenty or thirty seconds waiting for Livyx to move on. That was nothing. She could still come back. She had to.
Please live. Please live. Please live.
No mantra she’d ever repeated to herself had been as important as this one. Another minute went by.
“Rhythm check.” The call from the doctor on the far side of the bed cut through her thoughts, and she watched the monitor hopefully as the man in front of her stopped CPR again.
Please live. Please live. Please live.
“Pulseless v tach.”
The call from the woman at the monitor changed the tone of the orders in the room. Something had happened. Rhys’s head jerked up, and he dropped her hand, straining to see around the medical staff working on his sister. They had the defibrillator out to shock her. The expected call of, “Clear,” rang out. Liv’s body jerked.
That was good, right? They only did that when there was some sort of heartbeat to shock back into rhythm. That was what Rhys had explained when they’d talked about what this part of the plan would look like. It had to be good. Please let it be good.
The chest compressions started up again right away. Was that normal? Did it mean it didn’t work or did they always do that? A tall figure burst into the room. Dr. Whalton had panic in his eyes, but he scanned the room quickly, spotted the doctor beside the bed, and rushed over for an update. Rhys stood frozen beside her.
Cara checked her watch. Seven minutes.
“Rhythm check.”
“Still pulseless v tach.”
The call of, “Clear,” came again. Liv’s body jerked as the machine discharged its shock.
“Another milligram of epi.”
The CPR started again.
Rhys pushed past her and circled the foot of the bed. Dr. Whalton’s eyes widened when he caught sight of his son, and he switched from doctor to dad in an instant. His long arms reached out to grab Rhys’s shoulders.
“What happened? You were here?”
Rhys grabbed his dad’s hands and pulled him away from the bed, giving them a couple feet of space from the team working on Liv. Cara hoped it was enough that no one would overhear. She couldn’t hear him from where she stood pressed against the wall, but Randall Whalton’s face went from confusion, to shock, to livid, red anger.
Rhys whispered urgently, and his dad shook him off, shaking his head. She didn’t have to be a good lip reader to figure out the words he used when he asked if Rhys was out of his mind. He shoved Rhys back against the wall and rushed to Liv’s side. Rhys looked as though he might slide down the wall to the floor where he stood.
The team around her had continued to work during the hushed, desperate conversation between father and son.
They stopped compressions again.
The call from the woman at the monitor changed.
“Spontaneous rhythm.”
The man who’d been doing CPR dropped his arms, exhausted. Tension dissipated in the room. The voices around her took on a hopeful tone.
Rhys and his dad both jolted forward.
Cara’s knees buckled. Only the counter she held on to kept her from crumpling with relief. The words “spontaneous rhythm” repeated in her mind like waves crashing against a shore.
Liv’s heart was beating again.
But it wasn’t over. She still had a massive dose of poison in her. She needed the antidote. Now.
“Get sodium and potassium levels, a thrombosis panel, and a tox screen,” the doctor in charge ordered.
“No tox,” Dr. Whalton replied.
Cara sidestepped to the end of the counter. It was time to get out of the way.
“But, Randall, if it wasn’t a clot, then we won’t know what caused—”
“I said no tox screen.”
The doctors’ arguing voices faded as she reached the door. She slipped out to the hallway where Wes and Jory stood waiting for news.
“She’s alive, barely. And Rhys told his dad.” She whispered the last part, but it would have been covered anyway by the renewed shouts coming from the room.
“Because I said so. She’s my daughter, and in case you forgot, I’m on the board of this hospital, so you’ll treat her the way I say you’ll treat her.” Dr. Whalton’s voice thundered out to them.
A moment later, a nurse ran out the door.
Rhys followed more slowly in her wake.
“She’s gone for the DigiFab,” he said. “The other doctor in there argued that it made no sense to give her a digoxin antidote, but my dad threatened all their jobs, and they’re going along with it for now. He’ll have a lot to answer for after this. And that’s just the trouble he’ll be in if she makes it. If she doesn’t . . .”
He finally did slide down the wall to the floor with his head in his hands. Cara knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his arms.
“She will. It’ll work. She’s fighting, and as soon as she gets the antidote . . .” The lump in her throat was too big to say more.
He looked up.
“You guys need to leave.”
“What? No. We can’t leave now.” Jory found new strength.
“You have to. As soon as that nurse comes back, my dad will be out here demanding explanations. I don’t think he noticed you yet,” Rhys said, looking at her, “but you shouldn’t be here when he comes out.”
“He’s right,” Wes said.
Cara stood. “I don’t want to, but there’s nothing we can do now except wait. And hope.”
; “Here.” Rhys fished his keys out of his pocket and handed them to her. He gestured to the box in Wes’s arms. “Take that thing out to Jenyx and Tomyx. I’ll come let you know what’s going on as soon as I can.”
She glanced back once at the end of the hall. He was still slumped against the wall with his head on his knees.
She checked her watch at the van. Twenty-nine minutes had passed since they’d gone inside. It felt like days. There were still two hours of daylight left, but the day was darker than the sky pretended. She opened the van door, and they all climbed in the back to wait, bringing their darkness with them. Jenner barely lifted his head to greet her. Thomas eyed them from his spot curled up on one of the seats. A cool breeze blew through the van’s open windows. She didn’t have to sense them to know the Pyx were worried too.
“Liv’s alive. For now.” Wes filled in Jenyx and Tomyx. “It worked. We hope.”
“She hasn’t said anything. I don’t feel her,” Cara said, casting a dark glance at the pyxis still held in his hands.
“That is normal. The outer pyxis will prevent her from communicating,” Jenyx said.
“It will? You didn’t tell us that part.”
“You must not open it. We do not know how long it will take her to recover enough strength to be dangerous again. Until we can safely question her, we do not know what we are dealing with.”
“You’re going to question her? I thought you were going to . . . you know . . . kill her.” Cara’s hands started to shake.
“That’s what the council will decide,” Tomyx replied.
“A council of eleven,” Jenyx explained before Cara could protest about more secrets. “It is how we determine the appropriate punishment for any Pyx found to have broken one of the three absolute laws. Any eleven Pyx in the area can form a council to determine a law-breaker’s fate. It is likely Tomyx and I will end up serving on this one.” His voice was tighter than she was used to hearing.
“This Pyx obviously deserves the worst punishment, right?” Cara paused.
Jory was being left out of the conversation, but for once, he didn’t care. He waved Wes off when Wes tried to fill him in.