“It’s coming out!”
As a paramedic, I’d seen too many gory scenes to count, but something about the sight of the bloody mechanical worm slithering out of her nostril almost made me lose what little bit of dinner I’d eaten.
I grabbed it with a set of surgical tongs and placed it on gauze. Then I set to cleaning her nose and waiting for her to wake. We hadn’t done much, but the Captain and I both appeared as if we’d just run a marathon. It was out, and now all we could do was wait to see how she’d be affected.
Her hand was cool in mine as I sat at the side of her bed. It took forty-five minutes before she stirred. Maybe stirred was the wrong word. She turned to the side and violently puked. I quickly grabbed a bin and held it beneath her chin. Captain Ward leapt to his feet from where he’d been half-asleep by the window, and rushed over to hold her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” I told her as she breathed hard, looking wildly around the room. “You’re safe. I’m Amber Tate, and this is Captain Ward. We’ve taken The Helper out of you.”
A sobbing gasp ripped from her throat and she grabbed her head, heaving into the bin again.
“John?” she asked.
“You were one of thirteen people,” I told her. “Was John with you?”
“John . . . my son.”
Oh, no. She didn’t look more than thirty. “How old is your son?”
“Eight.” She closed her eyes against another bout of pain as my own stomach turned.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “All of the people you came with were adults.”
The mourning wail that came out made her grab her head and shake. Captain Ward came forward and injected drugs into her IV to calm her and help with the pain. I held her hand as she cried.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again, though I knew they were the most useless words in the world. “When was the last time you saw John?”
Her eyes were shut tight. “I left him with my sister and her kids when I went to see if I could join the DRP so I could get food. They wouldn’t let me leave because they were rounding people up for a safe camp. They promised me he would be safe, and I would be brought to him after the procedure.”
My jaw locked in angry pity. Her eyes cracked open. “Tell me what you know. They never talked about it in front of us. What happened while I was working for them? What happened to all the people I helped round up?”
I heaved a breath in and out. “I’m not sure of the exact details here, but where I was from in Nevada, they bombed them. It was over fast.”
She made a choking sound and turned to the side, curling into herself.
“We’ve taken over the base, Mrs. Green. We’re working to fight back.”
“I want to kill them!” she cried.
I rubbed her back, remembering when my own loss was fresh and raw, like hers is now.
“We all do,” I assured her. “And we will.”
