Page 95

Dominic

Think about the words you take to heart ? —

or they’ll define who you are.

“It’s over here. To your left. Your other left, Bentley, what the fuck?”

The civs at my back tense up, and I gesture at them to hold, frowning. That doesn’t sound like Sinners, that sounds like...

Kasey bursts into view, and Bentley barrels out of the forest behind her like an overgrown bear, a limp figure in his arms.

“Dom!” The girl has tears on her cheeks, and she keeps looking over at Bentley. “It’s Soren, he’s from Red Zone. He needs Deanna. Now .”

“I know who he is, Kasey.”

Slinging my rifle, concern slams into me as I run up to meet Bentley. He looks more panicked than Kasey, and my stomach drops.

Is he about to hand over a corpse?

Bentley pours Soren into my arms, and I vaguely recognize the waifish, quiet teenager who stood in the back of my battle room before we hit the Den. He weighs nothing at all.

Shit , he’s just a kid.

“He’s having an asthma attack. Severe. Do you have a ventilator? Oxygen, or...”

No. We don’t.

“Beau will handle it,” I say grimly instead of answering, already turning back. Soren’s lips are blue, his chest barely rising. “Come in, now . Emerson, take point here.”

“I can’t.” The words boom behind me, raw and devastated, and impatient, I turn back.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

Bentley looks rough, as hulking and huge as I remember, except for the beard, but it’s the gritty seriousness lining him. He’s not playing the carefree history nerd today.

“I just can’t. I’m going back. Things aren’t... they’re not as simple as they seem, okay? They need me. I can do more good there,” he says in a rush, but his eyes don’t leave Soren.

Foreboding sets up in my bones, and I look him over hard. “Come in and explain, Bentley. That doesn’t make any?—”

“Just get him to your fucking doctor!” Bentley roars, loud enough to shake the trees, and Emerson lets out a string of curses behind me.

For fuck’s sake.

“Dom, please!” Kasey demands, her voice thick with tears, and I curse too, looking down at the kid.

They’re right. He can’t wait.

With a final grim glare at Bentley, I turn and tear through the tunnel.

“Move!” I shout, and civilians flatten themselves to the side to let me through.

Soren’s limbs flop, kicking me with every pounding step. Kasey is right on my heels, her fast, fearful breaths just an exclamation mark over Soren’s near silent flutters. Dread soaks me.

Fuck, I hate it when it’s kids.

I punch through the door at the other end, falling out into the gym where there are too many civilians and Reapers and fuck knows who on the other end.

And they’re already parting.

“I said, get the fuck out of my way!” Jayk snaps, and I see him punching forward in full fury, Eden anxious at his side, and Jasper and Lucky behind him, armed to their teeth.

Jayk stops when he sees me.

Not me, I realize a half second later.

Kasey.

His hard expression breaks.

He runs forward and sweeps her up, crushing her against his chest.

“Fuck. Thank fuck.”

Behind him, Lucky peels away, running a relieved hand down his face, and Jasper’s head tips back.

Eden hovers beside them, her eyes bright.

Kasey starts squirming immediately, pummeling his shoulders. “Stop, stop! Jayk, you asshole! Let me down!”

He drops her, looking her over. “What? Are you hurt?” He roughly turns her around by her shoulders. “Answer me, you little shit, are you hurt ?”

Not stopping, I stride past them, and Eden’s gaze flicks to me—to the body in my arms—and she pales.

“Come on,” she says, running ahead of me to get the door as Lucky and Jasper look over.

“I can’t see. Who is it?” Jasper asks worriedly.

“Soren. Bentley’s nephew,” Lucky mutters back. “The one who needed our meds.”

“We need to get out to the watch, Lucien...”

“ I’m not hurt! It’s Soren!” Kasey cries as I shove through the door and into the hall.

Med bay.

Soren drags in a breath, the loudest one so far, and I kick into another jog.

Door, door, door, the next one is already open, and as I bust inside, Beau looks up. The beds are all taken by Reapers sporting gunshot wounds, and fear hits me hard. We’re going to be too late.

“What have we got?”

“Dom! My room. I’ve set it up,” Eden calls from down the hall, already hurrying up the stairs.

“Asthma attack. Soren. What is he, fifteen? Weighs fuck all, Beau. He’s barely breathing,” I tell him, fighting to keep my voice even.

Kasey is hovering, watching me with wide, frightened eyes.

Jayk is watching her from several feet back, something shattered and openly vulnerable on his face. And I get it . It’s always kids that fuck me up. It was the kid dying on our way to Bristlebrook after Day Death that nearly broke me.

Beau just nods, calm as he starts grabbing equipment, catching my fear and fixing it without a fucking word.

“Has he had any meds?” he asks, and I look at Kasey, who nods frantically.

She swipes at her cheeks. “Yeah, I made him have two pills. I don’t know what they were. They were in a yellow container in his bag.”

“Okay, that’s good. You did a good job doing that, Kasey,” Beau says soothingly as he picks up an IV stand from the corner. He nods for me to go, and I make for the stairs as he comes out after me.

Between his fucking accent and those words, he should sound patronizing, but Kasey’s staring at him like she needed to hear that as much as Soren needs treatment.

We hit the stairs.

“Now, sometimes the medicine can take a minute to kick in, especially if he’s been out there in all the cold and dust and battle mess. None of that is great for the lungs. Did anyone try anything else?” he asks, eyeing Soren’s face as we pound up the steps.

Eden’s waiting for us at the top.

Kasey’s voice is a little surer this time. “Madison did CPR, but I don’t think it helped.”

That breaks Beau’s calm, and he slices a surprised look at Kasey, who shrugs sheepishly. “I kind of freed her and Bentley.” The shadow crosses back over her face. “Not that it mattered.”

“It mattered,” I tell her. “She saved Jasper and Jennifer.”

Eden holds the door open to her room, and Kasey sucks in a harsh breath.

“Did . . . did she . . .?” she whispers.

Jayk rubs his jaw, coming up behind her, and his voice is gruff when he says, “Didn’t see her get ganked. Alastair has her, though. She got us some serious heat, so I don’t know, kid. We’ll have to see.”

Kasey falls silent, but she nods once.

Leaving them in the hall, I take Soren over to the bed. The room’s empty at the moment, but Eden’s cleared space on the floor too, setting it up for several others to sleep if they need it.

“Thanks, pet,” I murmur to her as I pass, and she nods.

“There are still things I need to do. Are you okay if I...”

“Go on, darlin’. I have this,” Beau says, coming up beside me and quickly pulling his stethoscope into place.

Eden moves to close the door, but Jayk slams it back open.

He and Kasey both hover in the doorway. Kasey watches Soren, and Jayk pulls back to sit by the door, staring at the ceiling.

Waiting.

Beau’s face lightens as he listens. “Okay, good. Or, not catastrophic anyway. Get his jacket off. Shirt can stay.”

I strip the kid’s jacket off, hating how limp he is. Beau pulls an array of small bottles out of his bag. Clothes. He unrolls a set of needles over the side table. Several vials. The IV bag. He runs off to wash his hands and comes back with gloves on.

“Okay, bring the stand over.” He lowers his voice as he works.

“I don’t have BiPAP. Inhalers have lost all damn efficacy.

No oxygen. I’m going to try magnesium sulfate.

If that doesn’t work...” He grimaces, shaking his head as he wraps a tourniquet around Soren’s upper arm.

“If that doesn’t work, he’s in for intubation and a manual vent, and that’s not going to be a good time for anyone. ”

He swipes an antiseptic swab over the back of Soren’s hand.

We work together, me following his instructions, and then both of us waiting for what seems like a million damn years before Soren’s face relaxes, color pinkening his cheeks again.

When he’s stable, Beau finally stands back and mutters something about checking on his other patients, squeezing my arm before he snaps his gloves off and leaves with a murmured reassurance to Kasey.

Kasey wraps her arms around herself, pacing, and Jayk gets to his feet, muttering to her. By Soren’s bed, I rub the back of my neck, reluctant to leave the kid alone, stable or not. His IV bag is dripping steadily, and outside, the storm rages in fierce, violent force, buffeting the windows.

When I glance back down, Soren’s tired eyes are open. He’s quiet, his lips turned down as he looks around the room, and I wait.

He’s so small, just this thin wraith, but I’ve seen kids of all ages in all kinds of places.

Overconfident eighteen-year-olds joining the ranks.

Hollow-cheeked ten-year-olds sitting on the side of the road, even tinier siblings tucked beside them.

Thirteen-year-olds with rifles or bullet holes.

Thirty-year-olds who’ve never had worse than a paper cut.

I sit on the end of the bed, watching the door. Watching Soren. I don’t know exactly why he was out there tonight, but I could take a guess.

Soren has old, exhausted eyes. He wasn’t out there because he had something to prove.

He was out there because he had something to lose.

“Bentley’s gone, isn’t he?” he whispers.

I nod, and he sighs, leaning back against the pillows.

“It was his choice,” I tell him softly.

He stares down at his hand—the IV line taped to the back of it—and he doesn’t answer.

From the doorway, Kasey’s voice rises, tearful and stressed.

“I tried to keep him safe. It’s not my fault he got sick! It’s too dangerous for him. It’s not my fault. He couldn’t breathe. He’s so weak, Jayk. He shouldn’t have been out there.” She chokes on her tears. “It’s not my fault.”

Ah, hell. Flinching a little, I cut a look at the bed, but Soren doesn’t say anything.

He just takes the hit, turning his head to the side. He swallows hard.

Jayk drags Kasey into another rough hug, and this time, she takes it, crying into his chest.

“Is he really going to be okay?” she asks in a small voice.

“He’s going to be fine,” Jayk says gruffly. “The doc is good. He’s the best there is. He’s got this. You don’t need to worry about this shit.”

Slowly, Kasey begins to calm down, her adrenaline crash easing out, and I hear Ida calling out to her from the hall, her own terror sharp. Like it’s a wake-up call, Kasey steps back, wiping her face and shaking her head.

“Don’t go expecting this gushy shit again, okay?” she says darkly. “This was a one-off.”

A beat too late, Jayk snorts, running a hand over his head. It’s still shaking.

“Yeah, whatever, kid. It’s like hugging a bag of twigs, anyway. Fucking eat something, would you?”

Ida runs up to Kasey, dragging her up into a bony, clutching hug. Over Kasey’s shoulder, she glares at Jayk.

“You didn’t even think to tell us where she was?” she snaps, her voice shrill, and Jayk backs up, muttering an apology that makes his voice crack.

He’s too pale. Too damn shaken as he beats a fast, stilted retreat.

While Ida starts berating Kasey and hugging her in turn, I sigh, standing up off the bed, knowing what I need to do.

It’s time.

Before I go, I look back down at Soren one last time. He’s still staring at the storm.

“Hey,” I say, and it’s a long sigh later before his head tilts slightly in my direction. “You know she’s just?—”

“Worried,” he finishes softly. “I know... Everyone always is.”

I study him; he’s serious and somber, IV fluids leaking into him.

Weak , she said.

I’ve been lucky enough to be pretty healthy most of my life. It was never wounds or colds that made me the sickest.

My old man’s voice rings in my ears.

“I always knew you were mediocre, Dominic, but today, you were a bad leader. And sometimes, the best thing a bad leader can do is walk away.”

I let out a heavy breath, watching the quiet teenager as seriously as he’s watching the window.

“You’re not weak, Soren.” His lips compress, and I soften my voice. “But you need to think about which words you take to heart—or it won’t be long before they define who you are.”

He doesn’t look at me, but his throat works, so I nod to myself.

He’s heard it, at least.

“I’ll have someone check on you regularly. Water’s on the side table.”

I turn for the door to see Ida watching, and as I pass, she murmurs that she’ll take care of it. She looks over at him in concern, and as Kasey yawns, Ida harries her toward the couch.

Turning down the hall, I leave them to it.

And decide to take my own advice.