Page 37 of Redemption (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #4)

“Alright. Sorry . Jax ...,” he corrects, “you were recently in a car accident and, as a result, have suffered a pretty severe concussion and have been unconscious for quite a while ever since. Your memory may be a little skewed. What’s the last thing you remember?”

A car accident.

It’s fuzzy but, as I force myself to focus, memories begin to flood my mind. Waking up in a van. Me fighting those guys. The accident afterwards and me blacking out because of it.

Think... What happened before....

It takes a few seconds, but then it comes to me. Not everything, just little details.

The front steps of a large building. A gravel courtyard. A circular driveway. Buildings to the left and right. Wrought iron gates.

“You got it, big guy.”

The memory of her voice is a shock to the system. There was a girl. My girl. She was there. Vivid pictures of her beautiful face fill my vision. Blonde hair, blue eyes, short little thing, curves for days, barely came up to my shoulders.

Aly...

I was waiting on the steps for her, and then...

Holy shit. The drone. That guy with the gun. I was shot.

Shot... at point-blank... in the back.

I glance down at my naked chest and side, searching for an exit wound that should be there.

Only, I don’t see anything. Although my flesh is sufficiently bruised, it’s still unbroken.

From the shooter’s distance, a bullet should have penetrated right through.

Done and done. It doesn’t make any sense for me not to have some sort of exit wound.

But as I take stock of all the pains and aches in my body, I don’t feel like I’ve been shot.

Ran over by a bus? Definitely. But not shot.

There would be a sharp distinction in a centralized area if that were the case.

The pain I have is everywhere, but it’s dull.

Not sharp at all. Well, except for my head, which is splitting with a pounding headache at the moment.

And my shoulder, uselessly throbbing and currently cradled in a sling.

All that pales in comparison, however, as I think back on the most important part of everything I need to remember. My bright light in the dark tunnel.

Aly.

She went to the bathroom but never came back. Fuck. Is she hurt? Where is she? We had just left—

Another memory barrels into me. One filled with a loud-mouthed blonde who doesn’t know when to shut up, and a quiet, observant redhead.

Hawk and Cole.

My brothers until the end.

Holy shit. Did they get shot and thrown into vans like I did?

I refocus my gaze ahead of me at the man who’s far too calm for my liking. Is this lackluster stand-in for a doctor a part of those who shot me? I definitely didn’t trust him before, but with this revelation he’s officially at the top of my shit list, becoming public enemy number one.

I clench my jaw as my heart rate picks up again.

One, two... pause... One, two.

The sensation of soft fur tickles the edge of my mind. The promise of relaxing breaths. Of Patience. Loyalty.

Sadie....

That’s why I’m doing the finger taps, I suddenly realize.

My mind finally catching up with the world around me.

The motion calls her to me when I need a little bit of reassurance.

When I feel like the world is caving in and taking me down with it.

But, as I look around the room, I notice she’s not here to ease me off a cliff this time.

Not here to calm my overacting heart and pull me back from a potential spiral.

Fuck.

Where is she?

Ok...

Ok.

Breathe.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

Just like Cole taught Aly.

In...

And out...

I close my eyes and repeat the technique over and over again, the doctor , Stitch, waiting patiently at my side as the hurricane in my mind slowly starts to settle with every extended exhale.

“There was a van,” I begin, opening my eyes as my mind clears, my need for answers overcoming my lack of trust for the individual next to me.

“I remember the accident. I think I went through the windshield.” My throat works around a swallow, dehydration making it more difficult than it should be.

“There were guys,” I continue. “Three of them. And before that, I was shot with something. Drugged, maybe?”

The man nods in response. “That would seem correct if the details I have in your report are to be believed.” He lifts a pink jug and pours me a cup full of water.

“Here. You’re probably experiencing a bit of dehydration after everything.

” My brows draw down with skepticism. But, while I don’t know or trust this guy any more than a casual fart after eating Taco Bell, I can’t help myself as I sip generously, aching to fix how parched my mouth and throat are.

While I quench my overwhelming thirst, he goes to the corner and pulls over the chair, taking a seat before regarding me again, waiting for me to continue.

But instead of recalling what may or may not have happened back at Tryon Palace, I want to know more about my present circumstances.

I sigh, attempting to remain calm and composed in order to gain the information I need. “Look, could you please just tell me where I am? I remember Tryon Palace and the van and whatnot. But,” I glance around the small room, “where am I now?”

He narrows his eyes, but something must satisfy him as he willingly replies.

“Alright, now that you’re remarkably calmer, I’m gonna give it to you straight.

All the facts I have. Top to bottom. Left to right.

” He clears his throat, eyeing me for a moment before continuing.

“You are, currently, being held under watch within the Phoenix Rising community.”

He pauses for a reaction, but I don’t say anything in return that might give away my concerns about this new development. Instead, I sit back and wait, thankful my compliance is rewarded with some intel, even though it’s not exactly good news.

Gesturing to his attire, Stitch continues with his rundown.

“You were brought to this facility and placed under my team’s care upon arrival due to your condition.

” He points a finger at my sling. “Looking at your medical report, you came in yesterday with a dislocated shoulder, a grade three concussion, multiple contusions, and yes, a few entry wounds from what I would most likely assume were tranquilizer darts.” He lifts a metallic pan and sets it on my lap.

“After having such a severe traumatic brain injury, you may experience a bit of nausea, so keep that close. And,” he digs into the pocket of his lab coat and lifts a wrapped item, “I brought you a sandwich.”

I look down at his offerings and try to work through it all, but I don’t take too much time on it.

Not while I still need to find the rest of my family.

I’m half-tempted to just ask this guy, but he has yet to mention any word of them.

Surely, if they abducted them as they did me, they’d use them as leverage to get me to comply, right?

But there’s been no indication that they have them here.

I can’t help but wonder if Aly, Cole, and Hawk got away.

And if they did, I don’t want to endanger them due to my reckless curiosity.

I don’t even get to voice my question, however, as he leans in, placing his elbows on his knees before continuing his disclosure.

“I have to warn you, though. Those guys in the van? None of them made it.”

I smile. Well, at least that’s some good news.

He shakes his head opposingly. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not good news.”

Says you .

“Unfortunately, that’s not all.” Resting back in the chair, he crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s mandatory protocol to screen each and every individual who comes to stay here.

We take a few vials of blood to confirm your blood type and the presence of various antibodies, as well as conduct a few other tests.

These were all done when you first arrived. ”

My eyes narrow as unease fills my veins. “But according to you, I was unconscious when I first arrived.”

He sighs, “That... is correct, but some of the screenings are required upon initial contact with the community, regardless of the patient’s status.

Conducting them as such has saved us in the long run.

For example, the blood draw taken earlier showed that you have the necessary antibodies and blood type to conclude that you are, in fact, immune to the zombie contagion.

That facial covering you came in with is no longer necessary, since you no longer pose a threat of transitioning due to the contagion’s airborne properties.

Now, that’s not to say you’re immune to getting bitten.

Unfortunately, everyone’s still susceptible to that. ”

With a pause and a deep breath, he looks away.

His words soften to a volume I can hardly hear, but his revelation is jarring enough that he doesn’t need to raise his voice to get the point across.

“As for the rest, I do not condone how others in the medical team perform their screenings. The tests can be quite invasive, and, personally, I refuse to do them out of ethical and moral conflicts.” His jaw tightens.

“I’ll admit I took your blood sample when you first arrived, and I apologize for the lack of consent in doing so, but it was necessary to make sure you weren’t a threat to anyone within the town’s community.

As for the other tests, I was not the one to administer them. ”

Too many emotions flood my system to prioritize one over the other, my mind overwhelmed with the information I was just granted.

While I’m definitely concerned about those other tests and what they had to do to obtain the samples, he just said they’ve discovered how to determine if a person is immune to the virus.

And my results verified that I am.

This is huge.

How the hell did they figure out how to test for that? My heart races, instantly wanting to know if Aly and the guys are immune as well.

Stitch looks down at his hands, rubbing them together before clapping them once.

“Now that brings me to one last thing before I go. Due to that bout of noncompliance during your transport, you’ve been officially placed on probation.

That means the moment I deem you medically fit for duty, you’ll be assigned to work somewhere within the parameters of Phoenix Rising and be expected to assimilate and adhere to the rules and regulations of the community.

Noncompliance will result in... severe consequences.

You will be watched closely for any deviation from what’s considered appropriate conduct.

” With an exhausted groan, he lifts himself from the chair and replaces it back in the corner.

“If I were you, I’d watch my back. You’ve got a lot of people pissed at you for what you did.

” His steps are unhurried as he casually walks to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob, a slow rising grin stretching across his face as he says under his breath, “I’m not one of them, though.

” With his closing statement, he opens the door and walks out, leaving me with even more questions than I originally had.

The first one immediately has my fingers tapping against my side.

He's no longer limping.

One, two... pause.... One, two.