by Bella Street
He was still lifeless, but she detected a light flush on his cheeks. She glanced up at Olga, who's hair clung to her damp forehead. She seemed to have aged twenty years.
“What happened?” Seffy asked in a ragged voice.
Olga gave a quick shake of her head and resumed her work. The Haz-Mat team stood scribbling on charts, and moved away as she neared.
Without asking for permission, Seffy took Trent's hand in a light grip. While she craved the chance to be alone with him, she also knew the commotion helped her keep it together. She'd go to pieces later when she was alone.
She focused on the warmth she felt in his fingers, and on the fact that his convulsions had stopped. What had stopped them? Her blood? His death? Seffy's lip trembled as she looked down at him.
That was too damn close.
***
Her eyes fluttered open. The first things Seffy became aware of was the regular beeping of the monitor and the fact that the tube had been removed from Trent's throat.
He was breathing on his own.
Then she realized she was in the easy chair next to the hospital bed. As events settled into place in her mind, she wondered why she had such a rotten headache.
“How are you feeling?”
Seffy looked up at Olga, who scrutinized her with concern etching her features. Seffy touched the point of pain on her head and realized something was there—gauze?
“Yes, young lady, you had a little crisis of your own. Passed out and crumpled onto the floor, getting a pretty big goose egg on your head.”
She frowned. “Oh, sorry. I don't suppose that helped matters.”
Olga's tired smile didn't reach her eyes. “Not so much.”
“How long was I out?”
“An hour or so. But I think that was more due to exhaustion than head trauma.”
Seffy glanced around the room and saw they were alone, although a guard remained just outside the door, watching them through the glass. “Where is everyone?”
“Well, your friends left and really wanted to take you back to your room to rest, but Fenn figured you'd rather wake up here. The doctors in the silver suits—they really didn't know why they were here beyond helping to resuscitate one of the outsiders. Obviously they weren't taking any contamination chances, but they didn't know anything about what precipitated the...event. That's why I didn't answer you earlier.”
“How did they know to come?”
“I had them and a crash cart on standby, and when we lost...sinus rhythm, they were called in to take over.”
“So you prepared for complications?”
Olga lifted her chin. “Of course. And I was actually about to start CPR myself, but you beat me to it. I saw your technique was correct, so I allowed you to continue until the doctors arrived—they were here three minutes after I called.”
Seffy flexed her arm muscles, wincing at the pain. “I thought I was working on him for forever.” She looked up, biting her lip. “So, did my blood...kill Trent?”
The nurse regarded her for several uncomfortable moments. “Your blood saved Trent.”
Seffy returned her look. “What are you not telling me?”
Olga sighed, passing a hand over her face. “What happened was a prepared for complication. It's possible that the chemistry of your blood contributed to his myocardial infarction—”
“I need English.”
“His heart attack. But it was most likely caused by the foreign entities in his blood causing the...change.”
“A heart attack? Oh my, God.”
“Luckily, he's young and strong.”
“Luckily.” Seffy's weary sigh echoed the nurse's. “But how can you use the words myocardial infarction and hint at some 'change' at the same time?”
“Seffy, I believe what I see under the microscope, regardless of what it's called. That's science, not science-fiction. We've done tests in the last hour and those elements are gone.”
She felt her jaw loosen. “Are you going to tell me what the elements were?”
“I told you earlier what I initially discovered. But upon further testing, I was able to identify elements of rabies.”
Words failed her for several moments. “Rabies.”
“Not full bore, but some kind of genetic manipulation combined with the other elements.”
“Who would do such a thing?”
Olga took a moment before answering. “Someone who wanted to manipulate through the use of—”
“Let me guess—psychonautics.”
The nurse didn't confirm the comment. “I suspect Trent was used for experimentation.”
“The question is who,” Seffy said, bitterly, doubting she'd ever know the truth.
“The answer is that your blood saved his life by stopping further changes to his blood chemistry. I can't explain how it worked, I just know it did.”
Seffy closed her eyes briefly, too heartsick to care about new conspiracy theories. “Then Trent is cured or whatever, right? Back to normal?”
Olga was silent for a moment. “You've just been given a miracle. Don't get greedy.”
***
The nurse sent Seffy back to her room to get some rest. But as soon as she was in clean clothes, Seffy headed back to the exam room.
When she arrived, she saw that Trent's linens had been changed and the room tidied, but most of all, that the restraints were off.
Olga looked up as she entered. “I thought I ordered you to take a nap.”
Seffy regarded the older woman. “I think if anyone needs rest, it's you. Have you even slept in the last two days?”
She shrugged and returned to her chart. “It's my job.”
Seffy went over and gave her a light hug, the movement a bit stiff from residual worry that Olga wasn't all she seemed. “Thanks for taking care of Trent.”
Olga cleared her throat. “As soon as I'm done here, I was going to treat the abrasions—”
“Let me do that. I feel useless enough as it is.”
The nurse nodded and picked up a tube off the counter. “Rub this on gently. It's an antibiotic with a topical analgesic to help with the pain.”
Seffy took the tube. “You really should go get some rest since Trent's apparently not going to start howling at the moon anytime soon—”
The nurse frowned and looked away. Was it a trick of light or was there moisture in her eyes?
“Sorry,” Seffy said. She pulled in a breath. “How soon...when will he wake up?”
“It could be any time but I suspect it will be a few days yet. His body has been to hell and back.”
To hell and back—sounded like an appropriate motto for Fugere.
Seffy glanced longingly at her husband. “So if Trent is okay for the time being, and the guard is still going to continue spying, I'll be fine here by myself for a while.”
Olga released a heavy sigh. “A cup of tea would do me good. But I won't be gone long. The guard can reach me any time, but if there's an emergency, have him call the doctors who were here before. Fenn asked them to be on call until tomorrow and they're close by.”
“You're wasting minutes from now to the time that I've caused some other crisis.”
Her face softened slightly. “Good point.”
Seffy was hit with another wave of realization that she could've faced an entirely different outcome. Whatever off-the-grid procedure Olga had used, it had been successful. “Thanks again.”
The nurse glanced back at her, pressing her lips together as her eyes welled up with tears. She nodded quickly and left.
Once Seffy was alone, she took the tube and pressed out a bit of cream on her fingers. She started with Trent's ankles, shocked by the damage to his torn skin. The tears started to fall when she started on his wrists. By the time she was done, great sobs shook her shoulders. Seffy pressed her hand to her head and strove to get her emotions under control.
I need a distraction. She looked around—and a soulless medical infirmary stared back. Beyond, there w
as her beaten and bloodied husband to look at—that wouldn't exactly stop the tears. Green grass, a blue sky, and a yellow sun would be nice. But Olga said not to get greedy.
What would Trent like? What would bring him comfort? Remembering his reaction to her song in the Light Room, she wrapped her fingers around his and began to hum the first tune that came to mind. Soon the words followed. When she tried to sing, her voice came out wobbly. Taking a deep breath, she started again.
“Your face is in my mind's eye
I'll never let you go
because from the beginning,
I was meant to love you
When you're not near me
when you're far away
you're still close to my heart
I just close my eyes and there you are
I'll always be near
I hear your name on the wind
it sets my heart on fire
I can't live without you
If you break my heart,
it can't be fixed
So don't go far
don't go away from me.”
Her voice broke. More tears—wretched, ugly tears that burned her cheeks. She wiped her streaming eyes with a shaky hand. Dammit.
She glanced over her shoulder self-consciously and saw the guard staring at her with shocked eyes.
Seffy looked back at Trent, wondering if he was aware of anything going on around him. She brought his hand to her lips, then rubbed it against her cheek.
She wanted to pray but felt too foolish to try. Was anyone out there listening? Seffy remembered Trent telling her he believed in God for the simple fact that she existed. A fresh sob escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“Sef?”
Seffy lifted her head, wondering if she imagined Trent's voice. She blinked when she found him looking at her.
“Are you for real?” His voice sounded like he'd smoked a couple dozen packs of cigarettes—all at once.
She gripped his hand, wondering if she was hallucinating. “Are you?”
He frowned, but it seemed to cause him some pain. “I dreamed...I dreamed...”
The monitor beeps jumped in frequency.
“Don't try to talk,” she soothed, then realized how ridiculous that was. Of course she wanted him to talk.
“I thought I...killed you.”
Her respiration kicked up a notch. It was the other way around. She bit her lip.
“It was so brutal. There was blood. So much blood.”
“Okay, I think that qualifies as oversharing,” she said shakily.
His eyes glazed over as if he were still caught up in the images. “It was so real. I could smell you, I could smell your blood, I could hear it moving through your arteries.”
“Trent,” she said trying not to sound hysterical, “you got really sick, which caused...hallucinations and delirium, but you're starting to get better, okay?”
His frown deepened as he took in his surroundings. “What happened to me? Why am I in this room?”
Seffy knew he'd get the truth—or at least someone else's version of the truth—so she took a deep breath. “Olga thinks you were infected by some mutated virus that made you...violent.”
His eyes—a beautiful shade of shiny gray and not yellow—widened. “Violent. In what way? That wasn't part of the dream?”
“You need to rest, sweetheart.”
He frowned. “I remember chasing deer...” He looked over at her. “I remember chasing you.”
Seffy didn't know what to say so she offered him a small smile.
“God, I chased you. Did I hurt you?”
The heart monitor beeped alarmingly. “I'm fine, Trent. Honest.”
He tipped his head back, breathing hard. “I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to taste you, but somehow I knew that was bad, even though it went against my instincts.”
“Please, just relax—”
“Did we...make love a lot?”
Goodness she hoped the guard couldn't hear this. “Uh...kinda.”
He began breathing harder, obviously trying to work things out in his mind. “When I was inside you, it calmed the desire to—”
“Um,” she squeaked, “I think this trip down memory lane is over.”
He blew out a ragged breath. “It was all so...dark, so brutal, I was just trying to hold on by a thread.” He shook his head, then swiped at his face with his other hand. For the first time he saw his wrists. “Was I restrained?”
Seffy nodded.
“I did this...to myself? Did I get loose? Did I hurt anyone?”
She squeezed his hand. “Trent, please settle down.”
He stared at her. “I know there's something you're not telling me.”
“You got a little rough with me once,” she said slowly, “but considering you apparently wanted to do the whole killing thing, I'm doing pretty good.”
Trent's eyes clouded as his breath came hard and fast. He closed his eyes for a moment, in an obvious effort to control himself. Finally, he looked up at her, his expression stark. “Can you kiss me so I know you're real...and not killed?”
“How many kisses should I start with?” she asked softly. “A thousand?”
A weak smile tilted his lips. “Or so.”
Seffy stood and leaned over the railing, pressing a kiss against his mouth, absorbing the sweet warmth of his lips clinging to hers. She released his hand and eased her arms around his neck, pulling him close. His arms slid around her back, his hands threading into her hair.
She pulled away long enough to climb into the bed next to him. Once she got situated against his body, she resumed kissing him with single-minded intensity.
When she came up for air and saw his familiar, tender gaze, she broke down and wept against his chest.
Trent held her close. She knew her reaction concerned him and she tried to explain between sobs, in fits and starts, that she was just relieved he was alive.
As her emotions leveled off, she sagged against him, emitting an occasional sniffle, thanking God that her husband was alive.
Soon, her heartbeats matched the electronic beep of the monitor, and in the warm shelter of Trent's arms, she fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty
“Oh, for heaven's sake.”
The words pierced Seffy's cozy fog. She eased open her eyes a little and saw a naked chest under her cheek.
“This is why I had the recliners brought in, you know.”
Seffy turned at the lightly reproving tone and found Olga regarding her over the rim of her half-moon glasses. Trent shifted slightly making Seffy realize she had a hellish crick in her neck.
Slowly sitting up, she shoved her hair from her eyes. “What time is it?” She slid over the railing, her muscles protesting every move.
“Tomorrow.”
“Huh?” She stood next to the bed on wobbly legs and reached for Trent's hand.
“You slept here all night...apparently in a hospital bed.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She sent a tired smile toward the nurse. “Did you get some rest?”
The nurse nodded, checked the medical chart, then went through her patient assessment routine. Trent sleepily submitted to the exam, then managed to ask when Seffy was going to give him a sponge bath.
Olga scribbled on her chart. “All his vitals are checking out, and from the sound of it, I think he can be returned to his room.”
Seffy caught her breath. “Do you mean it? When? Right now? Can we leave now?”
“Give me a couple of hours to tie up loose ends, okay?”
“Thank you, Olga.”
The nurse smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
***
Trent looked down at Seffy where she leaned against him, her head nestled in his shoulder. Her hand remained on his chest even in sleep, as if she needed the reassurance of his heartbeat.
Settling back against the cushions of his couch, he touched her wrist, noticing how thin her fingers were. Then again, so were his. He'd apparently lost
over twenty pounds since he'd been infected.
How was that possible? The closest he'd come to the wolf—the only thing that could've been rabid—was on the ladder that night, but he'd thought the pain in his ankle had been due to a scratch on a jagged piece of metal.
So the wolf had bitten or scratched him and infected with some kind of lab-created viral mutation. How in the hell did the wolf get it?
Or was it more compound double-speak and outright lies? He knew they'd do or say anything to keep people in line. Why not come up with some story so outlandish the residents wouldn't know what else to believe?
His only concession to such a whacked idea was the nature of his dreams. Running through a forest, chasing, smelling, frothing at the mouth for what ran ahead of him. Sometimes an animal, or a person...sometimes Seffy. The scent of heated blood, the promise of warm flesh had consumed him. How had he not hurt her?
Trent took her hand in his. The frailty of her bones unnerved him. There were some bruises dotting her skin. Had he caused them?
His touch caused her to stir. She stretched and sighed as her eyes slowly opened. She looked up at him and smiled. “Hey.”
The dark circles under her eyes attested to her stress and exhaustion. Another pang of guilt assailed him. Some honeymoon. Maybe the problem was that 'moon' was in the word. “How are you feeling?”
She sat up. “Me? What about you?”
“It's been three days since the doctors released me. I feel fine.”
“You still should take it easy.” Her brown eyes were large in her wan face. “I'm still worried about the effect of my blood in your veins.”
“I can't get over that Olga came up with that as a solution. I thought she knitted on the side, not dabbled in blood pathology.”
“I know,” she said, staring at him until he felt like a bug on a microscope slide. “It blows my mind, too.”
He leaned closer. “At any rate, she said my labs are showing zero, uh, wolf disease. Maybe your blood is like chemotherapy. That stuff is toxic and can burn the skin, but when it's inside the veins, it gets the job done.”