Page 13 of Healer (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #4)
My eyes followed the line of her gaze to a slight form crumbled by the doorway.
“Agnes!” I yelled, instinctively knowing it was right to call for her. Her medical expertise had been with younglings.
When the last syllable of her name left my lips, Agnes burst from the cave, her eyes searching.
I caught her gaze and nodded, watching a flash of relief cross her face.
I jerked my chin, directing her toward Vienda and the child.
Her gray eyes widened, and a look of anger and determination set on her beautiful face.
Agnes and I made it to Irsay’s side at the same moment.
We knelt down and worked together, gently rolling the child onto her back.
The wound encompassed the entire left shoulder, just above her breast, a crater deep enough to expose fat, muscle, and the white gleam of bone.
A blaster pulse had hit her, as evidenced by her skin’s jagged, scorched edges.
A thick stream of blood spurted in conjunction with her heartbeat, odd as blaster fire normally cauterized a wound.
“There’s a hole in the flesh next to the clavicle.” Anges frowned, tearing a hank of cloth from the bottom of her shabby dress. “If Kerzak have a clavicle.” I watched as she applied pressure to staunch the blood flow. Beside her, Vienda sobbed in Talamus’ arms.
I reached for the Medi-unit. As bad as things looked, it would be an easy repair.
My hand groped at my hip, a frigid chill running over my skin when my fingers encountered the hope of healing.
Or what remained of it.
A jagged hole ripped through the pouch, and the small gray box inside was nearly sheared in two.
Fuck!
The laser blast I felt must have hit the Medi-unit. I pulled the piece of equipment from its holder, realizing repair would prove impossible. The unit hemorrhaged parts worse than Irsay lost blood.
I glanced toward the little girl, my gaze snagging on Agnes. The communication between us consisted of little more than my raised brows and her narrowed gray eyes, but the information conveyed in those seconds was clear.
Irsay was losing ground fast.
Without the Medi-unit, we lacked the equipment to save the child.
I let my eyes drift to the wound, watching Agnes’ nimble fingers palpating and assessing the surrounding tissue while one hand pressed tightly, stifling the blood loss.
Watching her calm demeanor as she worked on the child, just as I knew it was right to call her to Irsay’s side, I knew these words were true.
“You can heal her.”
“What?” Anges hissed, frowning. “Can’t you get that medi-machine of yours working?”
I cupped the unit—which now lay in two distinctly separate pieces—between my palms and raised my hands to Agnes’ gaze. Vienda and Talamus moaned with worry. Perhaps I should have withheld the direness of the situation, but I didn’t believe in giving false hope.
“Shit!” Agnes murmured, gazing down at the child. The hands currently administering to the little girl held all the skills we needed. I felt it in my bones.
I laid a hand on Agnes’ shoulder, waiting until she met my gaze. “You can do this.”
“Please,” Vienda begged, her honey gaze locking first with mine and then Agnes. “Save our daughter.”
Uncertainty flickered across Agnes’ face, accompanied by worry.
Drawing a deep breath, she glanced at the child, considering.
I watched, blessed to be privy to the moment when the decision fell over her like a curtain, doubt burned away by absolute focus and concentration.
This was Agnes, in control of herself, unfettered by the anxiety and pain of her disease.
This was Agnes, the healer. She was utterly breathtaking.
“Tell me about a laser blast. What does it do to a body?” Gingerly, without losing pressure, she pulled back the edge of the cloth, studying the wound.
The answer depended on the species injured.
If the child were human, she would already be dead.
Vaktaire warriors could sustain a laser blast and keep fighting like an adult Kerzak.
Children of every species were more delicate.
“It’s heat-based, as you can see by the scorch marks surrounding the impact point.
It carries some kinetic energy but less than a projectile. ”
Agnes gently probed the edges of the wound. “It looks like no greater than second-degree burns on the flesh.” Her blunt white teeth worried her lower lip for a minute. “But there’s too much blood. It must have nicked an artery.” The gray eyes held worry when they flashed to me.
“The laser blast normally cauterizes tissue,” I mused, glancing at the wound. “If it hit bone, it might have sheared a piece off which did the damage.”
“How different is Kerzak anatomy from humans?” Agnes asked, frowning as she probed Irsay’s neck. Finally, she located a pulse in the center of the girl’s throat.
“I can pull a Kerzak anatomy schematic from my comm,” I told her. My data comm held complete anatomy data for all species, including humans.
Agnes watched me punch in the instructions before glancing at where Vienda and Talamus sat holding each other. Vienda’s clawed fingers made forays through Irsay’s hair with the utmost gentleness.
“Talamus, I need you to come here and put pressure on the wound.” Agnes’ voice held the tone, cadence, and snap of a military leader.
Talamus shifted his position, and the huge Kerzak’s hand shook as Agnes guided him in applying the correct pressure.
“Vienda.” The voice Agnes used for the mother held softness but still contained the quality of a command.
“I need you to get me the sharpest blade you own and as many clean cloths as you have. We need to put some water on to boil, and I’ll also need the smallest needle you have and something organic I can use for the sutures.
” Agnes tapped her lips with a forefinger.
“We don’t have any catgut, but maybe we could shave fish guts down enough to make thread.
” Vienda gave a worried nod, rising to her feet and snatching a spear propped by the doorway before walking toward the river.
“And some of Talamus’ strongest brew,” Agnes called after the female Kerzak as she rushed away. Giving Talamus’ shoulder a reassuring pat, she rose, coming to stand beside me.
“Brew?” I asked, punching in the last command to pull the anatomy files.
“The alcohol content is antiseptic,” she said, eyes widening as a holographic projection rose from the comm strapped to my wrist. She leaned closer, whispering the next part. “Plus, it will calm the parents.”
Agnes took my arm, leading me to the opposite side of the fire and onto a small bench.
As her fingertips grazed my skin, electricity surged through my body.
Agnes met my gaze, and I felt the heat radiating from her fingertips, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
At that moment, it was as if time stood still, and all that existed were the sparks flying between us.
She pulled her hand away as though burned, clearing her throat awkwardly. Her gaze lingered on my lips just as mine did on hers, but now was not the time. An agreement we made with a shared, heated glance.
I pulled my arm up, putting the comm image between us. The anatomy atlas came to life in a crisscross of shimmering green threads stark against the gray skies of approaching dawn. A frontal section of a Kerzak drawn in green light stood a foot above my wrist.
“The anatomy atlas can show you different cross sections… skeletal, musculature, circulatory, nervous, and organ.” I showed her how to change the view by swiping her finger over the image.
Agnes carefully examined the image, looking at different parts of the body, such as bones, nerves, and blood vessels.
She touched specific areas on her own body and quietly said words like subclavian, axillary, and artery.
Every few minutes, she’d glance at Irsay, her fingers touching an imaginary form as she traced pathways of bone and blood.
“Okay,” Anges drew a deep, shaky breath. “I think the Kerzak has something similar to the subclavian artery. The clavicle bones look larger, and the artery lies just underneath, so I think we’re right about the artery being nicked by a bone fragment."
“How do you fix it?” I asked as her fingertips once again followed the path of the artery on the hologram.
“I’ll need to cut through the remaining tissue, find the bone fragment, and repair the nicked artery.
” Her voice trembled. She trembled. Wetness hovered on her dark eyelashes as she gazed at me.
“I haven’t performed surgery in a long time.
Even though I don’t feel any stiffness or pain…
.” She flexed her trembling hands into fists.
I shut off the hologram and took her face between my palms. “You can do this, Agnes.”
“I’m scared.” She leaned forward, and I took a moment to wrap my arms around her and draw her against my chest. Tiny quakes traveled through her entire body.
“You can do this. I have faith in you,” I murmured, laying my cheek against her head.
As I held her trembling form in my arms, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort and rightness.
The first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon, casting an ethereal glow over the clearing, illuminating the aftermath of bloodshed and death.
But here, at this moment with her, all that mattered was our determination to answer our shared calling to heal.
We clung to each other as if our lives depended on it, clinging to hope in each other’s embrace and the promise of something more awaiting on the horizon.