Chapter 146: Emery

No one else says anything and the heavy moment passes. I lean forward in my seat, staring intently as we approach Old Tucson. I hold my breath and glance around fearfully, worried that this will be a weak point in the defences, but we pass easily through a heavily armed gate, moved for the purpose of our small envoy. Diogo lifts a hand to the men guarding the checkpoint. They nod and return to duty once they've pushed the heavy gate topped with barbed wire back into place.
I twist in my seat to look at them. They're some of the toughest most battle-hardened men I've ever seen and they look so young. Far too young to have seen so much. Then again, in this world, we grow up fast. Even reaching my age is an achievement, and not one I'll take for granted.
Our drive through Old Tucson is long and difficult. The debris in this section of the city is much worse than our Sanctuary where we've had years to clear fallen buildings and junk from the streets. The men in our guard vehicle are forced to get out frequently and move the obstacles before we can continue. After almost an hour of watching the men in front of us, Taran asks Diogo about it.
"Does it always take this long when you come visit?"
"No," he replies squinting through the windshield and then moving cautiously forward once the road is cleared again.
"Are you doing this because of me?" she asks shrewdly.
He glances over at her and then answers honestly. "Yes, your sister scouted out some safer locations much further back from the front line. I chose one of them, but there wasn't enough time to have a path completely cleared for us." He pauses for a moment and then says, "We should be there within minutes if I'm getting the landmarks correctly."
Sure enough, almost as soon as he says it we approach a building that looks as though it was once a small hospital. Skye steps from the front doors, shading her face and waving at us, a smile spreading across her lips. I smile in answer, though I'm sure she can't see me in the back of the jeep. She is breathtakingly beautiful. Odd, because she looks just like Taran, but somehow, while the same features on Taran give her an intense look, they make Skye utterly stunning.
She gives Taran and me hugs as we leave the vehicle and glances at Bishop with grudging friendship. I guess he's still not completely forgiven for stabbing her with a needle. Skye leads us into the building, speaking over her shoulder. "This place is buried so deep in Old Tucson, I'm not sure it'll be any use for what you're looking for Doctor."
"Bishop, please," he replies pleasantly, following her into the dimly shadowed lobby past a desk that looks frozen in time with items still littered across the surface. I look around in fascination. It's run down, but not too badly damaged that I can tell. "And it'll do just fine. With the expansion of the wall, your people will be able to spread out and inhabit the sections around here."
"Are you setting up a clinic over here?" I ask curiously.
"Yes," he confirms. "Though there is plenty of need within Sanctuary, out here is where the real emergency lies. There are acute injuries in need of urgent care."
"Are you moving?" I ask worriedly. I know I should be supportive but the idea of losing another friend is heart-wrenching. These days I cling to the few I have left. I think I must be developing some kind of anxiety disorder or something. I cling to those I love with an unnecessary fierceness. My heart pounds in fear whenever I think someone I care about is at risk. Even living across the city from Taran and the baby is difficult.
Bishop smiles kindly at me, as though reading my mind. "I'll be over here a few days a week to help set up the clinic and work with anyone that has medical knowledge to organize them. Not to worry, I'm still quite happy in my own little clinic in Sanctuary."
I smile my relief and squeeze his arm. Again I tell him, "You're a good man."
He shakes his head. "The Warlord is a good man. He helped me come up with this plan and approved the particulars."
I glance toward Diogo, a little surprised the man who is notoriously stingy with our resources is willing to part with them so easily. He snorts and mutters Taran's name. Of course, his wife had a hand in the negotiations. I smile internally at their amazing dynamic. He is our tough, uncompromising leader. The man who makes the difficult decisions for the sake of all of us. Yet he bends for his wife, listens to her gentle wisdom and gives her passionate demands an ear.
"Yeah, yeah, you're all good men," Skye interjects, rolling her eyes. "Would you like to stand around in reception chatting all day or would you prefer to see what we've done with the hospital so far?"
I laugh and follow her lead as she walks at a fast clip pointing out various features of the makeshift hospital. There are twenty rooms, three that will be turned into acute care. She's had the place cleared of debris and is in the process of having people come in for cleaning detail.
"It'll have to be spotless and sterilized before it can be used. We don't want people dying of infection over here." Bishop glances into a room. "We'll need to replace the mattresses, but these metal bed frames were built to stand the test of time." He looks back toward Diogo.
"Make a list," Diogo growls to one of his men, who immediately pulls some kind of notepad from his pocket.
"This used to be a cafeteria," Skye announces as we walk into a large space lit up from dozens of windows. A bunch of them are smashed out, but enough still intact that the effect is still very nice. We all stand silently for a moment, staring up in awe at the beautiful glass ceiling. "I'm thinking of turning it into an atrium, where patients can come sit and rest in the sunlight while still being surrounded by the outdoors. We can pot some of the wild shrubbery and bring it in."
"We have a botanist over in Sanctuary that can help you choose the best varieties. Some of the flowering kind will brighten the place up." Everyone looks at Diogo in surprise. First of all that he would care about brightening anything up, let alone a hospital, but also his knowledge of plants.
Taran grins broadly and takes his arm in hers, squeezing him. He looks down at her, his usual fierce expression giving way to a moment of tenderness. My heart leaps as I watch them together. Clearly a private moment. Perhaps our Warlord knows more about the world than waging war and dictating the lives of others. Perhaps he has a green thumb.
We move to the end of the space, heading into the bowels of the building where Skye intends to show us the old 'boiler' room. I'm not sure what this is but I assume it has something to do with the functioning of a building this size. Engineering and mechanics were never subjects I easily grasped.
As we leave a shadow flits across the edge of my vision and I jump as a man steps out unexpectedly and strides purposefully toward Skye. I stare with my mouth open as he reaches for her, gripping her arm tightly and dragging her a short way away from the group.
"You didn't tell me you were leaving the camp," he snarls down at her, giving her a shake. "You don't ever leave the camp without notifying me."
She yanks her arm back, but he doesn't let her go. "You don't get to dictate my movements!"
"I'm the only one around here with any interest in protecting your stubborn ass," he insists. "Can't do that unless your ass is within reaching distance."
"Oh, fuck off," she snaps furiously, trying to pull away again. "I don't owe you anything."
"No?" he says, raising an eyebrow.
They argue in a bubble completely of their own making. I'm awed by the raw emotion surrounding the two of them. They clearly have very strong feelings for each other, but don't seem to have explored them. I look at Wolfe curiously as they argue. Now he's fallen silent while she tears into him, treating him to a vicious diatribe. What an interesting pair, both passionate, both strong and stubborn. He cares for her more than she seems to know, but it seems so obvious, his heart is on his sleeve. Whereas I can't tell where she's at emotionally. I know she's lost a husband recently that she cared deeply about. Maybe that loss is colouring her view of Wolfe's intentions.
"Perhaps we should calm down some," Bishop steps forward and interjects.
"He's only trying to protect you, Skye," Taran adds softly, then she gives the other man a sharp chiding look. "Though he could go about it a little differently."
I bite back a smile as the tiny Warlord's wife steps up to her sister's giant bodyguard and tells him he needs to calm down or take his pique outside. He eyes her like she's an annoying morsel that should be flicked aside, then he turns on his heel and stalks down the hall. I'm relieved at the release of tension.
Skye turns back to us, her face pensive. "Should we continue?" She glances up, her eyes flickering across everyone in the dimly lit hall.
"Indeed," Diogo mutters, his lack of amusement at the interruption clear. Taran takes his arm and we continue into the boiler room. I look around with mild curiosity as they discuss the possible sources for electricity and heating.
A shuffling sound behind me and a soft growling is the only warning I have. I don't even have time to turn around, but the others do and what they see has their eyes widening. Taran screams for me to move just as something lands on my back so hard I'm knocked to the ground. Pain shoots through my arm, the one that'd been broken in the building collapse. I'm stunned and completely unprepared for the agony that slices into the back of my neck.
Diogo reacts faster than anyone else, pulling his gun and a hunting knife. I flinch as a shot rings through the space, deafening me. The thing on my back slumps and I try to crawl out from under it. I look over, terror stabbing at me as I find my face inches from the dimming eyes of a small female Primitive, maybe even a child. Her poor little face has been completely desecrated. The flesh of her cheeks has been stripped bare, leaving behind congealed black blood and rotting skin. Her hair is a matted mess on her head.
As I stare at her, Diogo swings his blade, slicing her head clean off her shoulders. I shriek as it rolls away and scramble back from the body. My back strikes the wall and I stare around in horror as everyone stares back at me with conflicting looks of horror and pity.
I look up at my Warlord as he stands over me, his eyes hard chips of obsidian, his blade in one hand hanging down by his side and his gun in the other.
I reach my hand back, touching the wound on my neck. I begin to realize what everyone else has already concluded. I've been bitten. I'm about to take the Turn. Within seconds I realize this isn't a scenario that will end well for me. Not like it did for Taran and Skye. I don't have the immunity. I can already feel a fire igniting in my veins as my body prepares to change.
Taran screams and lunges toward me. I open my mouth to tell her to stay back, to keep safe, to remember that she has a baby to think about. Diogo swiftly turns and flings an arm out, catching her around the middle before she can plunge past him.
My left arm jerks of its own volition, as though I have no control over it. I scream in agony when my leg follows, hitting the concrete so hard it bounces. It feels as though my bones are breaking and shifting, rearranging themselves. Everything inside me feels like it's liquifying, like boiling lava is being poured over my internal organs, melting them down. I want to speak, I open my mouth to beg and plead for someone to end this before it gets worse, but nothing comes out. My mouth jerks and stretches wide and then even wider, and then something snaps inside, as though my jaw has become unhinged. Saliva spills from my mouth as I'm forced into a silent scream.
I look up at Diogo, silently pleading with him.
I don't want to die.