The Host 23 page

It felt very strange.

“I should roll him right back in there and kick him over the edge myself.”

I shook my head frantically, making it throb in pain. “No.”

“Saves time. Jeb made the rules clear. You try to hurt someone here, there are penalties. There’ll be a tribunal.”

I tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip. It wasn’t frightening, not like the way Kyle had grabbed me. But it was upsetting‑it threw me off balance. “No. You can’t do that, because no one broke the rules. The floor collapsed, that’s all.”

“Wanda ‑”

“He’s your brother.”

“He knew what he was doing. He’s my brother, yes, but he did what he did, and you are… you are… my friend.”

“He did nothing. He is human,” I whispered. “This is his place, not mine.”

“We’re not having this discussion again. Your definition of human is not the same as mine. To you, it means something… negative. To me, it’s a compliment‑and by my definition, you are and he isn’t. Not after this.”

“Human isn’t a negative to me. I know you now. But Ian, he’s your brother. ”

“A fact that shames me.”

I pushed away from him again. This time, he let me go. It might have had something to do with the moan of pain that escaped my lips when I moved my leg.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so. We need to find Doc, but I don’t know if I can walk. I‑I hit my leg, when I fell.”

A growl strangled in his throat. “Which leg? Let me see.”

I tried to straighten out my hurt leg‑it was the right one‑and groaned again. His hands started at my ankle, testing the bones, the joints. He rotated my ankle carefully.

“Higher. Here.” I pulled his hand to the back of my thigh, just above the knee. I moaned again when he pressed the sore place. “It’s not broken or anything, I don’t think. Just really sore.”

“Deep muscle bruise, at least,” he muttered. “And how did this happen?”

“Must have… landed on a rock when I fell.”

He sighed. “Okay, let’s get you to Doc.”

“Kyle needs him more than I do.”

“I have to go find Doc anyway‑or some help. I can’t carry Kyle that far, but I can certainly carry you. Oops‑hold on.”

He turned abruptly and ducked back into the river room. I decided I wouldn’t argue with him. I wanted to see Walter before… Doc had promised to wait for me. Would that first dose of painkiller wear off soon? My head swam. There was so much to worry about, and I was so tired. The adrenaline had drained, leaving me empty.

Ian came back with the gun. I frowned because this reminded me that I’d wished for it before. I didn’t like that.

“Let’s go.”

Without thinking, he handed the gun to me. I let it fall into my open palms, but I couldn’t curl my hands around it. I decided it was a suitable punishment, to have to carry the thing.

Ian chuckled. “How anyone could be afraid of you…” he mumbled to himself.

He picked me up easily and was moving before I was settled. I tried to keep the tenderest parts‑the back of my head, the back of my leg‑from resting on him too hard.

“How’d your clothes get so wet?” he asked. We were passing under one of the fist‑sized skylights, and I could see the hint of a grim smile on his pale lips.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “Steam?”

We passed into darkness again.

“You’re missing a shoe.”

“Oh.”

We passed through another beam of light, and his eyes flashed sapphire. They were serious now, locked on my face.

“I’m… very glad that you weren’t hurt, Wanda. Hurt worse, I should say.”

I didn’t answer. I was afraid of giving him something to use against Kyle.

Jeb found us just before we hit the big cave. There was enough light for me to see the sharp glint of curiosity in his eyes when he saw me in Ian’s arms, face bleeding, the gun resting gingerly on my open hands.

“You were right, then,” Jeb guessed. The curiosity was strong, but the steel in his tone was stronger. His jaw was tight beneath the fan of his beard. “I didn’t hear a shot. Kyle?”

“He’s unconscious,” I said in a rush. “You need to warn everyone‑part of the floor collapsed in the river room. I don’t know how stable it is now. Kyle hit his head really hard trying to get out of the way. He needs Doc.”

Jeb raised one eyebrow so high it almost touched the faded bandanna at his hairline.

“That’s the story,” Ian said, making no effort to conceal his doubt. “And she’s apparently sticking to it.”

Jeb laughed. “Let me take that off your hands,” he said to me.

I let him have the gun willingly. He laughed again at my expression.

“I’ll get Andy and Brandt to help me with Kyle. We’ll follow behind you.”

“Keep a close eye on him when he wakes up,” Ian said in a hard tone.

“Can do.”

Jeb slouched off, looking for more hands. Ian hurried me toward the hospital cave.

“Kyle could be really hurt… Jeb should hurry.”

“Kyle’s head is harder than any rock in this place.”

The long tunnel felt longer than usual. Was Kyle dying, despite my efforts? Was he conscious again and looking for me? What about Walter? Was he sleeping… or gone? Had the Seeker given up her hunt, or would she be back now that it was light again?

Will Jared still be with Doc? Mel added her questions to mine. Will he be angry when he sees you? Will he know me?

When we reached the sunlit southern cave, Jared and Doc didn’t look like they’d moved much. They leaned, side by side, against Doc’s makeshift desk. It was quiet as we approached. They weren’t talking, just watching Walter sleep.

They started up with wide eyes as Ian carried me into the light and laid me on the cot next to Walter’s. He straightened my right leg carefully.

Walter was snoring. That sound eased some of my tension.

“What now?” Doc demanded angrily. He was bending over me as soon as the words were out, wiping at the blood on my cheek.

Jared’s face was frozen in surprise. He was being careful, not letting the expression give way to anything else.

“Kyle,” Ian answered at the same time that I said, “The floor ‑”

Doc looked back and forth between us, confused.

Ian sighed and rolled his eyes. Absently, he laid one hand lightly on my forehead. “The floor crumbled by the first river hole. Kyle fell back and cracked his head on a rock. Wanda saved his worthless life. She says she fell, too, when the floor gave.” Ian gave Doc a meaningful look. “Something,” he said the word sarcastically, “bashed the back of her head pretty good.” He started listing. “Her nose is bleeding but not broken, I don’t think. She’s got some damage to the muscle here.” He touched my sore thigh. “Knees sliced up pretty good, got her face again, but I think maybe I did that, trying to pull Kyle out of the hole. Shouldn’t have bothered.” Ian muttered the last part.

“Anything else?” Doc asked. At that moment, his fingers, probing along my side, reached the place where Kyle had punched me. I gasped.

Doc tugged my shirt up, and I heard both Ian and Jared hiss at what they saw.

“Let me guess,” Ian said in a voice like ice. “You fell on a rock.”

“Good guess,” I agreed, breathless. Doc was still touching my side, and I was trying to hold back whimpers.

“Might have broken a rib, not sure,” Doc murmured. “I wish I could give you something for the pain ‑”

“Don’t worry about that, Doc,” I panted. “I’m okay. How’s Walter? Did he wake up at all?”

“No, it will take some time to sleep that dose off,” Doc said. He took my hand and started bending my wrist, my elbow.

“I’m okay.”

His kind eyes were soft as he met my gaze. “You will be. You’ll just have to rest for a while. I’ll keep an eye on you. Here, turn your head.”

I did as he asked, and then winced while he examined my wound.

“Not here,” Ian muttered.

I couldn’t see Doc, but Jared threw Ian a sharp look.

“They’re bringing Kyle. I’m not having them in the same room.”

Doc nodded. “Probably wise.”

“I’ll get a place ready for her. I’ll need you to keep Kyle here until… until we decide what to do with him.”

I started to speak, but Ian put his fingers on my lips.

“All right,” Doc agreed. “I’ll tie him down, if you want.”

“If we have to. Is it okay to move her?” Ian glanced toward the tunnel, his face anxious.

Doc hesitated.

“No,” I whispered, Ian’s fingers still touching my mouth. “Walter. I want to be here for Walter.”

“You’ve saved all the lives you can save today, Wanda,” Ian said, his voice gentle and sad.

“I want to say… to say good‑goodbye.”

Ian nodded. Then he looked at Jared. “Can I trust you?”

Jared’s face flushed with anger. Ian held up his hand.

“I don’t want to leave her here unprotected while I find her a safe place,” Ian said. “I don’t know if Kyle will be conscious when he arrives. If Jeb shoots him, it will upset her. But you and Doc should be able to handle him. I don’t want Doc to be on his own, and force Jeb’s hand.”

Jared spoke through clenched teeth. “Doc won’t be on his own.”

Ian hesitated. “She’s been through hell in the past couple of days. Remember that.”

Jared nodded once, teeth still clamped together.

“I’ll be here,” Doc reminded Ian.

Ian met his gaze. “Okay.” He leaned over me, and his luminous eyes held mine. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not.”

He ducked in and touched his lips to my forehead.

No one was more surprised than I, though I heard Jared gasp quietly. My mouth hung open as Ian wheeled and nearly sprinted from the room.

I heard Doc pull a breath in through his teeth, like a backward whistle. “Well,” he said.

They both stared at me for a long moment. I was so tired and sore, I barely cared what they were thinking.

“Doc ‑” Jared started to say something in an urgent tone, but a clamor from the tunnel interrupted him.

Five men struggled through the opening. Jeb, in front, had Kyle’s left leg in his arms. Wes had the right leg, and behind them, Andy and Aaron worked to support his torso. Kyle’s head lolled back over Andy’s shoulder.

“Stars, but he’s heavy,” Jeb grunted.

Jared and Doc sprang forward to help. After a few minutes of cursing and groaning, Kyle was lying on a cot a few feet away from mine.

“How long has he been out, Wanda?” Doc asked me. He pulled Kyle’s eyelids back, letting the sunlight shine into his pupils.

“Um…” I thought quickly. “As long as I’ve been here, the ten minutes or so it took Ian to carry me here, and then maybe five more minutes before that?”

“At least twenty minutes, would you say?”

“Yes. Close to that.”

While we were consulting, Jeb had made his own diagnosis. No one paid any attention as he came to stand at the head of Kyle’s cot. No one paid any attention‑until he turned an open bottle of water over Kyle’s face.

“Jeb,” Doc complained, knocking his hand away.

But Kyle sputtered and blinked, and then moaned. “What happened? Where did it go?” He started to shift his weight, trying to look around. “The floor… is moving…”

Kyle’s voice had my fingers clenching the sides of my cot and panic washing through me. My leg ached. Could I limp away? Slowly, perhaps…

“’S okay,” someone murmured. Not someone. I would always know that voice.

Jared moved to stand between my cot and Kyle’s, his back to me, his eyes on the big man. Kyle rolled his head back and forth, groaning.

“You’re safe,” Jared said in a low voice. He didn’t look at me. “Don’t be afraid.”

I took a deep breath.

Melanie wanted to touch him. His hand was close to mine, resting on the edge of my cot.

Please, no, I told her. My face hurts quite enough as it is!

He won’t hit you.

You think. I’m not willing to risk it.

Melanie sighed; she yearned to move toward him. It wouldn’t have been so hard to bear if I weren’t yearning also.

Give him time, I pleaded. Let him get used to us. Wait till he really believes.

She sighed again.

“Aw, hell!” Kyle grumbled. My gaze flickered toward him at the sound of his voice. I could just see his bright eyes around Jared’s elbow, focused on me. “It didn’t fall!” he complained.

CHAPTER 34. Buried

Jared lunged forward, away from me. With a loud smacking sound, his fist hit Kyle’s face.

Kyle’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his mouth fell slack.

The room was very quiet for a few seconds.

“Um,” Doc said in a mild voice, “medically speaking, I’m not sure that was the most helpful thing for his condition.”

“But I feel better,” Jared answered, sullen.

Doc smiled the tiniest smile. “Well, maybe a few more minutes of unconsciousness won’t kill him.”

Doc began looking under Kyle’s lids again, taking his pulse…

“What happened?” Wes was by my head, speaking in a murmur.

“Kyle tried to kill it,” Jared answered before I could. “Are we really surprised?”

“Did not,” I muttered.

Wes looked at Jared.

“Altruism seems to come more naturally to it than lies,” Jared noted.

“Are you trying to be annoying?” I demanded. My patience was not waning, but entirely gone. How long had it been since I’d slept? The only thing that ached worse than my leg was my head. Every breath hurt my side. I realized, with some surprise, that I was in a truly bad mood. “Because if you are, then be assured, you have succeeded.”

Jared and Wes looked at me with shocked eyes. I was sure that if I could see the others, their expressions would match. Maybe not Jeb’s. He was the master of the poker face.

“I am female,” I complained. “That ‘it’ business is really getting on my nerves.”

Jared blinked in surprise. Then his face settled back into harder lines. “Because of the body you wear?”

Wes glared at him.

“Because of me, ” I hissed.

“By whose definition?”

“How about by yours? In my species, I am the one that bears young. Is that not female enough for you?”

That stopped him short. I felt almost smug.

As you should, Melanie approved. He’s wrong, and he’s being a pig about it.

Thank you.

We girls have to stick together.

“That’s a story you’ve never told us,” Wes murmured, while Jared struggled for a rebuttal. “How does that work?”

Wes’s olive‑toned face darkened, as if he’d just realized he had spoken the words out loud. “I mean, I guess you don’t have to answer that, if I’m being rude.”

I laughed. My mood was swinging around wildly, out of control. Slaphappy, like Mel had said. “No, you’re not asking anything… inappropriate. We don’t have such a complicated… elaborate setup as your species.” I laughed again, and then felt warmth in my face. I remembered only too clearly how elaborate it could be.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

It’s your mind, I reminded her.

“Then…?” Wes asked.

I sighed. “There are only a few of us who are… Mothers. Not Mothers. That’s what they call us, but it’s just the potential to be one…” I was sober again, thinking of it. There were no Mothers, no surviving Mothers, only the memories of them.

“You have that potential? ” Jared asked stiffly.

I knew the others were listening. Even Doc had paused in the act of putting his ear to Kyle’s chest.

I didn’t answer his question. “We’re… a little like your hives of bees, or your ants. Many, many sexless members of the family, and then the queen…”

“Queen?” Wes repeated, looking at me with a strange expression.

“Not like that. But there is only one Mother for every five, ten thousand of my kind. Sometimes less. There’s no hard‑and‑fast rule.”

“How many drones?” Wes wondered.

“Oh, no‑there aren’t drones. No, I told you, it’s simpler than that.”

They waited for me to explain. I swallowed. I shouldn’t have brought this up. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Was it really such a big thing to have Jared call me “it”?

They still waited. I frowned, but then I spoke. I’d started this. “The Mothers… divide. Every… cell, I guess you could call it, though our structure isn’t the same as yours, becomes a new soul. Each new soul has a little of the Mother’s memory, a piece of her that remains.”

“How many cells?” Doc asked, curious. “How many young?”

I shrugged. “A million or so.”

The eyes that I could see widened, looked a little wilder. I tried not to feel hurt when Wes cringed away from me.

Doc whistled under his breath. He was the only one who was still interested in continuing. Aaron and Andy had wary, disturbed expressions on their faces. They’d never heard me teach before. Never heard me speak so much.

“When does that happen? Is there a catalyst?” Doc asked.

“It’s a choice. A voluntary choice,” I told him. “It’s the only way we ever willingly choose to die. A trade, for a new generation.”

“You could choose now, to divide all your cells, just like that?”

“Not quite just like that, but yes.”

“Is it complicated?”

“The decision is. The process is… painful.”

“Painful?”

Why should that have surprised him so? Wasn’t it the same for his kind?

Men. Mel snorted.

“Excruciating,” I told him. “We all remember how it was for our Mothers.”

Doc was stroking his chin, entranced. “I wonder what the evolutionary track would be… to produce a hive society with suiciding queens…” He was lost on another plane of thought.

“Altruism,” Wes murmured.

“Hmm,” Doc said. “Yes, that.”

I closed my eyes, wishing my mouth had stayed closed. I felt dizzy. Was I just tired or was it my head wound?

“Oh,” Doc muttered. “You’ve slept even less than I have, haven’t you, Wanda? We should let you get some rest.”

“’M fine,” I mumbled, but I didn’t open my eyes.

“That’s just great,” someone said under his breath. “We’ve got a bloody queen mother alien living with us. She could blow into a million new buggers at any moment.”

“Shh.”

“They couldn’t hurt you,” I told whoever it was, not opening my eyes. “Without host bodies, they would die quickly.” I winced, imagining the unimaginable grief. A million tiny, helpless souls, tiny silver babies, withering…

No one answered me, but I could feel their relief in the air.

I was so tired. I didn’t care that Kyle was three feet from me. I didn’t care that two of the men in the room would side with Kyle if he came around. I didn’t care about anything but sleep.

Of course, that was when Walter woke up.

“Uuuh,” he groaned, just a whisper. “Gladdie?”

With a groan of my own, I rolled toward him. The pain in my leg made me wince, but I couldn’t twist my torso. I reached out to him, found his hand.

“Here,” I whispered.

“Ahh,” Walter sighed in relief.

Doc hushed the men who began to protest. “Wanda’s given up sleep and peace to help him through the pain. Her hands are bruised from holding his. What have you done for him?”

Walter groaned again. The sound began low and guttural but turned quickly to a high‑pitched whimper.

Doc winced. “Aaron, Andy, Wes… would you, ah, go get Sharon for me, please?”

“All of us?”

“Get out,” Jeb translated.

The only answer was a shuffling of feet as they left.

“Wanda,” Doc whispered, close beside my ear. “He’s in pain. I can’t let him come all the way around.”

I tried to breathe evenly. “It’s better if he doesn’t know me. It’s better if he thinks Gladdie is here.”

I pulled my eyes open. Jeb was beside Walter, whose face still looked as if he slept.

“Bye, Walt,” Jeb said. “See you on the other side.”

He stepped back.

“You’re a good man. You’ll be missed,” Jared murmured.

Doc was fumbling in the package of morphine again. The paper crackled.

“Gladdie?” Walt sobbed. “It hurts.”

“Shhh. It won’t hurt much longer. Doc will make it stop.”

“Gladdie?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, Gladdie. I’ve loved you my whole life long.”

“I know, Walter. I‑I love you, too. You know how I love you.”

Walter sighed.

I closed my eyes when Doc leaned over Walter with the syringe.

“Sleep well, friend,” Doc murmured.

Walter’s fingers relaxed, loosened. I held on to them‑I was the one clinging now.

The minutes passed, and all was quiet except my breathing. It was hitching and breaking, tending toward quiet sobs.

Someone patted my shoulder. “He’s gone, Wanda,” Doc said, his voice thick. “He’s out of pain.”

He pulled my hand free and rolled me carefully out of my awkward position into one that was less agonizing. But only slightly so. Now that I knew Walter wouldn’t be disturbed, the sobs were not so quiet. I clutched at my side, where it throbbed.

“Oh, go ahead. You won’t be happy otherwise,” Jared muttered in a grudging tone. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t do it.

Something stung my arm. I didn’t remember having hurt my arm. And in such a strange place, just inside my elbow…

Morphine, Melanie whispered.

We were already drifting now. I tried to be alarmed, but I couldn’t be. I was too far gone.

No one said goodbye, I thought dully. I couldn’t expect Jared… but Jeb… Doc… Ian wasn’t here…

No one’s dying, she promised me. Just sleeping this time…

When I woke, the ceiling above me was dim, starlit. Nighttime. There were so many stars. I wondered where I was. There were no black obstructions, no pieces of ceiling in my view. Just stars and stars and stars…

Wind fanned my face. It smelled like… dust and… something I couldn’t put my finger on. An absence. The musty smell was gone. No sulfur, and it was so dry.

“Wanda?” someone whispered, touching my good cheek.

My eyes found Ian’s face, white in the starlight, leaning over me. His hand on my skin was cooler than the breeze, but the air was so dry it wasn’t uncomfortable. Where was I?

“Wanda? Are you awake? They won’t wait any longer.”

I whispered because he did. “What?”

“They’re starting already. I knew you would want to be here.”

“She comin’ around?” Jeb’s voice asked.

“What’s starting?” I asked.

“Walter’s funeral.”

I tried to sit up, but my body was all rubbery. Ian’s hand moved to my forehead, holding me down.

I twisted my head under his hand, trying to see…

I was outside.

Outside.

On my left, a rough, tumbled pile of boulders formed a miniature mountain, complete with scrubby brush. On my right, the desert plain stretched away from me, disappearing in the darkness. I looked down past my feet, and I could see the huddle of humans, ill at ease in the open air. I knew just how they felt. Exposed.

I tried to get up again. I wanted to be closer, to see. Ian’s hand restrained me.

“Easy there,” he said. “Don’t try to stand.”

“Help me,” I pleaded.

“Wanda?”

I heard Jamie’s voice, and then I saw him, his hair bobbing as he ran to where I was lying.

My fingertips traced the edges of the mat beneath me. How did I get here, sleeping under the stars?

“They didn’t wait,” Jamie said to Ian. “It will be over soon.”

“Help me up,” I said.

Jamie reached for my hand, but Ian shook his head. “I got her.”

Ian slid his arms under me, very careful to avoid the worst of the sore spots. He pulled me up off the ground, and my head spun like a ship about to capsize. I groaned.

“What did Doc do to me?”

“He gave you a little of the leftover morphine, so that he could check you out without hurting you. You needed sleep anyway.”

I frowned, disapproving. “Won’t someone else need the medicine more?”

“Shh,” he said, and I could hear a low voice in the distance. I turned my head.

I could see the group of humans again. They stood at the mouth of a low, dark, open space carved out by the wind under the unstable‑looking pile of boulders. They stood in a ragged line, facing the shadowed grotto.

I recognized Trudy’s voice.

“Walter always saw the bright side of things. He could see the bright side of a black hole. I’ll miss that.”

I saw a figure step forward, saw the gray‑and‑black braid swing as she moved, and watched Trudy toss a handful of something into the darkness. Sand scattered from her fingers, falling to the ground with a faint hiss.

She went back to stand beside her husband. Geoffrey moved away from her, stepped forward toward the black space.

“He’ll find his Gladys now. He’s happier where he is.” Geoffrey threw his handful of dirt.

Ian carried me to the right side of the line of people, close enough to see into the murky grotto. There was a darker space on the ground in front of us, a big oblong around which the entire human population stood in a loose half circle.

Everyone was there‑everyone.

Kyle stepped forward.

I trembled, and Ian squeezed me gently.

Kyle did not look in our direction. I saw his face in profile; his right eye was nearly swollen shut.

“Walter died human,” Kyle said. “None of us can ask for more than that.” He threw a fistful of dirt into the dark shape on the ground.

Kyle rejoined the group.

Jared stood beside him. He took the short walk and stopped at the edge of Walter’s grave.

“Walter was good through and through. Not one of us is his equal.” He threw his sand.

Jamie walked forward, and Jared patted his shoulder once as they passed each other.

“Walter was brave,” Jamie said. “He wasn’t afraid to die, he wasn’t afraid to live, and… he wasn’t afraid to believe. He made his own decisions, and he made good ones.” Jamie threw his handful. He turned and walked back, his eyes locked on mine the whole way.

“Your turn,” he whispered when he was at my side.

Andy was already moving forward, a shovel in his hands.

“Wait,” Jamie said in a low voice that carried in the silence. “Wanda and Ian haven’t said anything.”

There was an unhappy mutter around me. My brain felt like it was pitching and heaving inside my skull.

“Let’s have some respect,” Jeb said, louder than Jamie. It felt too loud to me.

My first instinct was to wave Andy ahead and make Ian carry me away. This was human mourning, not mine.

But I did mourn. And I did have something to say.

“Ian, help me get some sand.”

Ian crouched down so I could scoop up a handful of the loose rocks at our feet. He rested my weight on his knee to get his own share of dirt. Then he straightened and carried me to the edge of the grave.

I couldn’t see into the hole. It was dark under the overhang of rock, and the grave seemed to be very deep.

Ian began speaking before I could.

“Walter was the best and brightest of what is human,” he said, and scattered his sand into the hole. It fell for a long time before I heard it hiss against the bottom.

Ian looked down at me.

It was absolutely silent in the starlit night. Even the wind was calm. I whispered, but I knew my voice carried to everyone.

“There was no hatred in your heart,” I whispered. “That you existed is proof that we were wrong. We had no right to take your world from you, Walter. I hope your fairytales are true. I hope you find your Gladdie.”

I let the rocks trickle through my fingers and waited until I heard them fall with a soft patter onto Walter’s body, obscured in the deep, dark grave.

Andy started to work as soon as Ian took the first step back, shoveling from a mound of pale, dusty earth that was piled a few feet farther into the grotto. The shovel load hit with a thump rather than a whisper. The sound made me cringe.

Aaron stepped past us with another shovel. Ian turned slowly and carried me away to make room for them. The heavy thuds of falling dirt echoed behind us. Low voices began to murmur. I heard footsteps as people milled and huddled to discuss the funeral.

I really looked at Ian for the first time as he walked back to the dark mat where it lay on the open dirt‑out of place, not belonging. Ian’s face was streaked with pale dust, his expression weary. I’d seen his face like that before. I couldn’t pinpoint the memory before Ian had laid me on the mat again, and I was distracted. What was I supposed to do out here in the open? Sleep? Doc was right behind us; he and Ian both knelt down in the dust beside me.

“How are you feeling?” Doc asked, already prodding at my side.

I wanted to sit up, but Ian pressed my shoulder down when I tried.

“I’m fine. I think maybe I could walk…”

“No need to push it. Let’s give that leg a few days, okay?” Doc pulled my left eyelid up, absentminded, and shone a tiny beam of light into it. My right eye saw the bright reflection that danced across his face. He squinted away from the light, recoiling a few inches. Ian’s hand on my shoulder didn’t flinch. That surprised me.