MY EARS RING AS HELIX drags me down the hallway after Dr. Yang, the empty syringe gripped in the doctor’s hand. The compound is silent, an echo of what it’s supposed to sound like, deadened by the high-pitched peal in my head. Gray walls and cement floor, numbers in chipped red paint that mark the number of rooms as we pass, counting down until I’m dead. Seven, six, five . . .
Helix’s hand on my wrist bites, as if he has teeth instead of fingers. Two other Menghu I don’t recognize trail behind us. Dr. Yang stops in front of a door, a blocky 4 stenciled across the heavy metal.
The hinges creak as we go inside, Helix’s stranglehold on my wrist relaxing when the doctor asks me to climb up onto the table in the center of the room. This place is a blank, nothing but the table, the walls . . . no restraints, no scalpels, or saws. All Dr. Yang needs is that one syringe.
He slowly pulls the plastic packaging from the tube, fixing a needle to the end of the syringe. Once he injects me, I’ll be aware, awake. Paralyzed. Only this time, I won’t have a chance of waking up. Not until he lets me.
“Helix?” Dr. Yang stabs the vial without looking up. “Would you go notify Dr. Bai we’re ready? We’ll need a short-term feeding tube. Catheter. Same supplies for a typical first-stage SS victim.”
Helix hesitates. “You don’t want me to have them prep the surgery?”
I’d laugh if I weren’t so terrified. What will it take for the Menghu to finally figure out that Dr. Yang can’t cut my head open and extract the cure to SS with a ladle?
Pulling the needle out of the vial with a muted pop, Dr. Yang hardly glances at the Menghu captain, flicking the syringe with his fingertip. “Did you not hear what I just asked for?”
Helix’s eyes flick over me, my clothes torn, feet bare. Still dirty from scaling the walls in an effort to get to Gao Shun and the stone dust from being underground during the attack. I stare back at him, at the dark circles raccooning his eyes, and try to muster a defiant smile. Not willing to let him think I’m frightened of him. That I’m frightened of anything.
Holding Helix’s gaze takes so much concentration, I’m not expecting it when the needle punctures my arm, trails of acid and fire swimming up my veins in a suicide sprint. I gasp, pulling away, and earning myself an extra jab from the needle as it pushes to the side.
Dr. Yang withdraws the syringe and holds it out to Helix, finally glancing over at the Menghu. “Do I need to ask one of the others?”
“No, sir.” Helix’s back almost seems to bend without his permission, giving the doctor a deferential bow. He takes the empty syringe and walks out without another glance at me.
“This is your last chance, Jiang Sev.” The doctor finally meets my frantic gaze. The acid in my arm spreads up to my shoulder, across my chest, and out to my other limbs. I bite my lip, fists clenching weakly. I won’t let this man see me cry.
My mouth is buttoned closed, so many lives sheltered inside. Sole, who has Mother’s research, whatever was in it. Peishan, my old roommate, up in the trees at an old trading post. Lihua, waiting for me to come back with the Mantis that will keep her from hurting the people she loves.
June, Asleep at Port North. I’m not your sacrifice, she said. But she was the sacrifice, the price we paid to Luokai to get the cure.
Howl. Alone and broken. Left on the Port North steps.
Their faces grow fuzzy and soft, fading into the shadows in my mind as the drug takes hold. But I don’t forget them, even as everything about me blurs.
They say power grows from the barrel of a gun. They’re wrong. That’s not power, it’s fear, and fear can be conquered when there’s more to stand for than your own life. True power grows from love and family and friendship. They give you the strength to do what is right even when it is impossible.
Power is standing in front of the gun, knowing how powerless you are, and still refusing to move.
The world goes black around me and I let my eyes shut, stop fighting the hold Dr. Yang’s virus has on my brain.