No.
It was chaos on the ground. My opening into Earth had shrunk to the size of a chair. They would have to crouch to get through at this rate, and Dawn wouldn’t make it. They’d also have to abandon the trucks. Nox was holding off the breeders with his flamethrower, but I knew that would run out soon.
The breeders were vicious in their attack, and had come around to block the opening, keeping my team from exiting. Seeing Nox with the fire gave me an idea.
‘Dawn needs to breathe fire on breeders. Make them move,’ I told her as I simultaneously tried to hold the opening and talk to Dawn.
Without responding, she dove. I held on, fighting the epic headache threatening to make me pass out. I was entangled with the breeders’ hive mind now; I didn’t know where they ended and I began. I yanked to pull myself out, but they held on to me, causing pain to flare along my entire body.
I was barely aware of Dawn breathing a wide arc of fire onto the breeders who were blocking the portal, or my team scurrying through the opening. Military personnel on Earth were peering into the opening, wide-eyed. I saw a flash of Damien, but they held him back.
It was absolute chaos. Chandler was holding on to a breeder. Kicking and screaming, she pulled her through the opening, and that’s when a snap rang through my ears, or maybe it was my body. It was everywhere. An audible crunch.
Then a trickle of blood ran down my nose and onto my lips. The moment I tasted the salty copper, I passed out.
When I came to, my first thought was that I was high as fuck, like straight-up floating on a bliss cloud that could only be morphine.
When I peeled my eyes open, I was looking right up at Ronnie’s sweaty face.
“Jesus, Kit!” she screamed, shaking me.
“Ow.” I growled, and then looked at my surroundings a little more closely. We were in a cave.
On Skyhome.
Not on Earth.
Shit.
Craning my head to the side, I saw Dawn lying in the entrance to the cave, her wings bandaged. Maxine was here too. Her hand was… oh God. It was bandaged and still bleeding heavily.
“What… happened?” I sat up slowly as Ronnie started to tear through her med bag.
“When you passed out, it snapped the opening shut. Maxine and I got stuck on the inside. Dawn flew all three of us up here. Tore a dozen tendons in her wings holding that much weight.”
Holy shit. I looked over at Dawn and she gave me a sleepy-eyed look. I think we were both equally high on morphine. Ronnie had not held back with that shit.
“Maxine?”
I looked down at my unconscious friend. Ronnie pulled out a surgical tray and I knew shit was about to get real.
“Lost three fingers. I’m going to try to save the hand. I didn’t know how to wake you. All your vitals pointed to shock, so I gave you morphine in case it was intense pain. I think you might have suffered a mild brain bleed.”
What the hell?
My eyes widened. My best friend was in surgeon mode, just spouting shit without thinking emotionally.
“How can I help?” I scooted forward and pushed the “brain bleed” and “shock” comments to the back of my mind.
“I need you to assist. The swelling is going to take her hand if I can’t get it under control, and I need to work on these bleeds.” Her explanations were ominous but her voice never shook. She wasn’t sweating; she had nerves of steel.
I didn’t assist her often. She’d made all of us take basic training, so I knew what all of her tools were called. But holding clamped-off blood vessels was more of a Brisk thing. That shit made me queasy. Yet for Maxine I would deal. I was also still high.
I crawled over to sit next to Maxine. “How much morphine did you give me?”
“I dosed you, Dawn, and Maxine around the same time. I might have gone a little heavy, but I was short-staffed so—”
“It’s fine,” I assured her. I didn’t mean to make her feel bad, I was just questioning my ability to hold anything right now.
“It will wear off quickly now that you’re awake,” she assured me.
As she began to unwrap Maxine’s right hand, I whimpered. The middle, ring, and pinky fingers were completely gone; a few dangling pieces of flesh were left. The thumb and pointer finger were swollen, as well as her palm.
“Shit.” I felt bile rise in my stomach and immediately felt sober.
“Compartment syndrome. She’ll lose the hand if we don’t work fast. Don’t watch my cuts or you’ll pass out. I know you. Just stare at a spot a few inches away from what I’m doing.”
Oh God. Oh God. Why couldn’t Brisk have gotten locked in? Why me?
She grabbed her scalpel and I prepared for the bloody show that I knew was about to happen. With precise movements, she made two long cuts across the top of Maxine’s hand. Blood and a clearish fluid oozed out and dizziness overtook me. I realized I was watching her cut like she told me not to and not looking off to the side.
Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I stared at a piece of white cotton on the sterile pad Ronnie had placed under her hand.
“Clamp!” Ronnie barked, and I fumbled to grab one of them, handing it to her.
She clamped something that I tried not to look at. “Hold.”
I held the clamp while she worked her magic. Sweet Maxine. I realized then why Ronnie was so frantic to wake me. This was a surgery that required two people. Most times Ronnie could just patch you up herself; when she needed two people it was serious. If I hadn’t woken, Maxine might have lost her hand. She still might, but at least we were working on the problem now.
“Tendon stripper,” Ronnie’s robotic call came next.
Tendon
