“Are you certain about this?” Trinity asks as we cross the border into the Outlands.
“Yes.” I slur the word. I can hardly hold my head up. “The radiation is a lie. It doesn’t exist.”
She sighs. “Okay. I’m not sure why I should trust you, but I do. I’m betting my life on it.”
I blink my eyes and when I open them again, we are near the reactor. I must have blacked out. There are miles and miles of winding terrain between the border and Liberty Party headquarters. The wolf hovers over me and my hands have moved to Korwin’s neck.
“Stay away from him!” I yell at the wolf. She retreats a single step but lies in wait.
“Are you okay?” Trinity darts a glance over her shoulder at me. “No one is touching him, Lydia. No one but you.”
With a shaky breath, I ensure Korwin is still breathing and force my eyes open wider. “I’m not okay,” I sob. “I’m not okay.” I’m so tired. I can’t stay awake anymore, but I can’t allow the wolf to take control.
“Almost there,” Trinity says. “I see a garage door. It’s opening on its own.”
Through the window, the forest gives way to white walls and fluorescent lighting, rows of vehicles, and metal shelving. Six officers with weapons are our welcoming committee. Trinity holds her hands up. “I have Lydia and Korwin in the back. They’re hurt.” She yells the words without rolling down the window.
There’s the clamor of voices and then the jeep gate opens. Charlie curses. My mind can’t make out the words. I’m on my side next to Korwin. I try to raise my head and my cheek sticks to the upholstery. Blood. We are lying in a pool of our blood.
“Keep them together,” Charlie orders. I’m hoisted onto a gurney, Korwin tucked in next to me.
I reach out and fist the tail of Charlie’s lab coat. “Don’t let me sleep. She’s here. She’s dangerous.”
His eyes widen with understanding, but he shakes his head. We are rolled into the surgical suite. Charlie leaves my side and returns to press a mask over my nose and mouth.
“I’m sorry, Lydia, I have no choice.”
I am only aware that days have passed through flashes of consciousness. A nurse changes a bag of fluid attached to my arm. I throw up on her shoes and fall asleep again. I open my eyes to the steady beep of a machine I can’t see. It’s dark. I try to sit up but I pass out again. David’s and Laura’s voices wake me. They bend over me and rub my arms and shoulders. I cannot process what they’re saying. I close my eyes again. Charlie is in the room. He injects me with blue fluid. It burns, but I’m too weak to cry out. I sleep.
When I finally wake fully, I have no idea what day it is. A wave of nausea comes over me. I grab a basin from the nightstand and heave into it. Nothing comes out but a rush of air. There is nothing left in my stomach. The IV in my arm keeps catching on the edge of the basin. Charlie rushes into the room and presses a cold cloth to my head. “Easy, Lydia. It’s going to be all right.”
“Where’s Korwin?” I rasp. My throat is bone dry.
“He’s right next to you.” Charlie points to the other side of the room.
I twist to look over my shoulder. Korwin is in a second hospital bed in the same white room. He’s sleeping with the head of the bed up and the blanket pulled to the chest of his hospital tunic.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Charlie’s face falls. He scratches his jaw and lowers himself to the edge of my bed.
“What happened, Lydia?”
“A building fell on us.”
“Right. Trinity told me. Dr. Konrad again.” Charlie’s face reddens. “It was very, very stupid of you to go after Trinity alone. I’d ask what you were thinking but it is all too clear to me that you simply weren’t.”
“We had no choice. He was going to kill her.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone where you were going? Ask for help? I was here. You could have come to me.”
“There was no time.” My mouth opens but the sharp look Charlie gives me halts the rest of the excuse in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I say instead.
He puts one fist on his hip and looks at his toes. “Korwin’s spine was severed. That’s why you couldn’t heal him. The electrical impulses you were sending weren’t making it to his lower body.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, if he were biologically average, he would never walk again.”
My stomach clenches, and I grab the bin and heave again. I shake my head. “No. There has to be a way.”
“I said he’d never walk again if he was biologically average. He’s not. I was able to apply electrical stimulation directly to his spine. It healed, but it’s still weak. He’s not out of the woods yet.”
“Is he able to walk?”
“He’s slept most of the last six days, but yesterday he wiggled his toes. It is a long way from being able to walk, or run, or fight,” Charlie says. “We’ll start physical therapy tomorrow.”
“Why are we separate? Why didn’t you put us together to heal?”
Charlie frowns. “You had multiple wounds in your legs and back. You must have a guardian angel, Lydia, because if the debris had hit an artery, I don’t believe you would have survived. As it is, it’s a wonder you didn’t bleed to death.”
I place the back of my hand against my lips and swallow repeatedly to keep from vomiting again. “But why didn’t you keep us together?” I press. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t I heal when we touched before?”
“It’s what I warned you about. The Nanomem proteins have spread. Your cells have become unstable. You’re not as strong as you used to be. Your cells are replicating to be more like David’s, more human. You may have passed the point of no return.”
“I have a short in my circuitry,” I say absently.
“Yes. Exactly. As I showed you with the watch, you can give your power to Korwin, but it can’t come back to you—not in the way it once could. It’s like drinking through a narrow straw; only a small part of you can use his energy now. You drained your battery trying to heal him. You probably kept him alive, but you almost died in the process.”
I picture the watch with the black face he showed me. I believed I understood at the time, but I didn’t. “I thought this was just about me, but what you are saying is that Korwin might have died because I can’t heal him the way I once could.”
“You can’t even heal yourself.”
My eyes burn with impending tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put him at risk.”
Charlie groans. “You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk!” When I start to weep, he puts one arm around my shoulders. “Lydia, I know you two, all right? You didn’t twist Korwin’s arm. He knew the risks and that you were sick. You guys went to get Trinity. You thought it would be easy. You thought wrong.” Charlie’s talk is meant to be comforting, but instead my heart sinks with guilt at our stupidity.
“Where is Trinity?”
Charlie smiles. “Working.”
“Working?”
“After a day or two of interrogation, it was clear she was on our side. She was sworn in and chose to train as a nurse. She’s been helping me in the ward.”
“She’s a good person. She can be trusted,” I say.
“The council thinks so.” Charlie walks to the wall and turns down the lights in the artificial window on the wall. “Now, I want you to get some rest. Try not to worry about anything. Just heal.”
He exits the room, and the lock engages with a metal-on-metal grind. Turning on my side, I face Korwin, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. I flash back to my hands around his neck. What if I fall asleep and my wolf tries to strangle him again?
Korwin’s eyes open, their hazel color making my breath catch. “Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi. Charlie was here. I can call him back in if you want me to.”
“No.”
“He’s locked us in. He’s afraid my wolf will come back and I’ll kill someone,” I say honestly, although Charlie didn’t admit it in so many words.
“Apparently, he’s not worried about you killing me.”
“He should be. You tried to warn me against pressing the detonator. I couldn’t stop.”
“We were weak. I wasn’t sure we’d survive.”
“I wasn’t sure we’d survive either, but my wolf didn’t care. I’m losing my mind.”
“We did survive. You were right to take out Konrad. Even if we’d died, it would have been worth it.”
“No. It was crazy. I tried to strangle you in my sleep on our way home. I’m sick, Korwin. You shouldn’t trust me. I could hurt you.” My voice is heavy with guilt.
He turns his head on his pillow to face the ceiling and the corner of his mouth tugs up toward his ear. “Love hurts. Haven’t you heard?” He chuckles and turns back to face me.
“This isn’t a joke. We should call Charlie back and have you moved to a different room.”
His smile melts away. “How are you feeling? Still nauseous?”
“No. It’s passed. How did you know I was nauseous?”
“Heard you. A few times.” With one hand, he pulls the blanket aside and pats the mattress next to him. “Come here. Lay with me. You won’t hurt me.”
I widen my eyes at him. “You don’t know that.”
“I know.” He pats the bed. “Please. I literally can’t come to you. As of today, I can barely wiggle my toes.”
“I shouldn’t.”
Korwin’s expression turns serious. “You owe me.” He pats the bed again.
Carefully, I sit up and use my IV pole as a crutch to stand. My back throbs. There is a scratching noise as my bandages brush against my hospital tunic. It takes me more steps than normal to get from one bed to the other, despite the short distance. In tiny, measured movements, I lower myself to Korwin’s mattress. His side is warm and welcoming. I tuck my head into the nook of his arm, my face resting on his chest. Our skin touches, but only the faintest glow blushes my skin.
“You shouldn’t trust me,” I say again.
“But I do.” He kisses my forehead. “Judging by your journey across the great four-foot cavern between our beds, I don’t believe you will be capable of injuring me. Sleep.”
He has a point. I can barely lift my arms. With a deep sigh, I close my eyes. As I drift into repose, my right hand wanders to my neck and finds my cross. I’m happy that Charlie either didn’t remove it or returned it to my neck after surgery. With it gripped tightly in my fist, the only prayer that comes to me is: Thank you, thank you, God, for giving us another day.