After a couple of hours, he poked his head outside to see if the blizzard had stopped. Snowflakes were falling, but in more of a sleepy cascade than an avalanche. Even the wind seemed less fierce. With any luck, they’d be all set to move on in the morning. He nuzzled back into the tent and tried to sleep.
Near daybreak, Devin said, “Oh, no,” and lurched forward.
Joe scrambled out of the makeshift tent and helped Devin stand and shuffle a safe distance away. During the night, Joe had gotten hot and shed his shoes, socks, and shirt, so now he stood shivering in the snow, his feet burning and numb, and watched Devin retch.
Flix emerged from the tent as the second wave of vomiting started. He winced and regarded Joe from across Devin’s bent back. His gaze trailed up from the waistband of Joe’s pants until it met his eyes. Flix grimaced. “Sorry. Old habits. Go put some clothes on before you freeze to death. I’ve got him.”
Joe wanted to be stubborn and stay, but the icy, burning pain in his feet had grown insistent. He nodded and let Flix’s fingers replace his in Devin’s hair, let Flix’s other hand smooth over Devin’s back, let Flix’s silky voice be the one that soothed the only love Joe had ever known.
As he walked back to the tent, he felt Flix’s eyes on his back. It didn’t bother him that Flix was looking; he was vain enough that it bothered him that he didn’t have much left to look at. Joe ran his hand over his diminished chest, his prominent ribs, the concavity of his abdomen. His stomach rumbled, like his touch had awakened it, and he ignored it as easily as he always had. He’d been hungry before. He’d survived worse.
He’d slipped on his shirt and found his shoes and socks when Aria began unzipping the tent. She stopped when she got near him. “You went barefoot in the snow?”
Joe rubbed his cold hand over his even-colder pink feet. “He needed help.”
“Dumb shit. Sit.” Aria dropped down in front of him and reached for his foot.
Joe jerked away. He wasn’t the one who needed help.
Aria grabbed at him roughly and yanked his foot into her lap. Her hands felt like fire, and Joe hissed at the mingled pain and pleasure. She kneaded and pulled and even put her mouth on his skin and exhaled, and Joe sunk into it, closed his eyes, and laid his head back against the wall.
He was so tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally. They’d traveled over 900 miles, and it was almost funny that with so few miles left, relatively, he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to sleep. To lie on the sleeping bag in this cruddy fallen-in building covered in a blanket of snow, and sleep. He didn’t care about finding out what had happened to Aaron Brady or about making a life for himself in the dome. He didn’t care about Flix and Aria and Peter. He didn’t care about... No, that was one lie too far. He cared about Devin with every breath and heartbeat, but Devin didn’t really need him. He would be better off with someone not so...weary. And Flix would be more than happy to take the job.
He’d care tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d feel better, be better. But just for today, he wanted to sleep. Aria’s hands kept up their magic, and Peter or someone was unzipping the sleeping bags, letting in more cold and sunlight, and Joe slipped down the wall and groaned when his head touched the welcome, sleeping-bag-covered earth. He rolled onto his stomach and gave in.
A hand on his shoulder shook him awake. He turned onto his back and found Flix staring at him. God, those dark, serious eyes. Where had the laughing, flighty boy who’d tried to kiss Joe outside the hospital in Waco gone? Joe traced the long scar on Flix’s face. “I’m sorry.”
Flix’s eyebrows drew together. “Aria needs you. It’s Devin.”
Joe scrambled for his shoes and shot to his feet. His head spun, and he had to lean against the wall for a moment until the dizziness eased.
Devin was where Joe had left him, though he wasn’t vomiting anymore. He’d curled into a ball and shudders once again wracked his body. Aria’s hands fretted over him, never lighting in one place long. Futile, helpless touches.
Joe knelt by Devin’s face and found him crying. Tears trickled from his squeezed-shut eyes and down his ghostly-white cheeks. He reached out a hand, and Joe caught it and brought it to his lips.
“I can’t do this,” Devin said. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s —”
Devin didn’t seem to be listening, so Joe glanced at Aria for help.
“It’s the headaches,” she said. “His body has completely shed the effects of the pain pills, and the pain is too much. He threw up for over an hour straight, just bile and dry heaves, until he got too exhausted.”
Why hadn’t they helped him? “Give him more medicine.”
“I don’t have more medicine, and even if I did, we can’t take a chance on giving him more CNS suppressants, not after his lips turned blue like that.”
“So what do we do?”
“Nothing. I told you already, the only way to help him is to get him to a doctor. If I had nanotech or something...”
“The little robots?”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“We’re not.” Flix pushed off the far wall. He’d been so quiet, Joe hadn’t even realized he was there. “Maribou told Devin that Iowa State is still in business up in Ames. A school would have nanotech.”
Joe grabbed onto the idea. “How far away?”
“Ten miles, give or take.”
“Done. Let’s get Devin up and —”
Aria grabbed Joe by the arm and jerked him over to
