Chapter 150: Taran

Exactly two days later Emery is moved to Sanctuary. She is weak, and even that short amount of travel time is almost too much for her. Now she's laying in a comfortable bed in Bishop's clinic, an IV attached to a fluid bag dangling from her frail arm. Milla sits on her other side holding her hand and looking worried while I pace.
"Why is she so weak, Bishop?" I ask the doctor, turning as I reach the wall. I'm pacing because Blaze hasn't enjoyed the hours we've spent here, cooped up inside the clinic's windowless back room. He's fussing in my arms, waving his fists against my shoulders and occasionally wailing in frustration.
"I can't say for sure without the proper equipment, but I can speculate based on what we know of what Necrotitis Primeval does to the human body." He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts, the way he often does. Bishop isn't one to speak until he has something to say. "The condition of which she suffered is a brutal one, it doesn't just change the human body, but the transition takes place rapidly. Like I said, it's impossible to say for sure, but if I had to guess I would say her internal organs took quite a beating. Her blood type would have been changing over to Type N, which would have a massive impact on her physiology. On top of that you have the massive and constant rush of adrenaline being dumped into her system. The human body isn't meant to take that kind of a beating. There's a reason most Primitives don't live much beyond five years once they've turned, their bodies just can't take it."
"I thought they died early because they're driven to reckless behaviours," I point out.
He nods his agreement. "Yes, that too. Both contributing factors definitely shorten their lives, which is a good thing for us. It means there are much fewer of them out there. If they were able to reach full human lifespan potential they may have managed to overwhelm the few of us left over from the Great Fall."
I shudder at the implication and hold Blaze a little tighter. Despite the hardships we're forced to live through, we do get the chance to live, which feels like an absolute miracle when taking into consideration the odds we're up against.
"Well, when Emery recovers maybe you'll be able to use the information you're gathering in order to help get rid of this disease."
Bishop looks at me sadly and I know what he's going to say before he says it. "If she recovers, Taran. Her survival isn't guaranteed. If I'm right, then her organs took a beating that she may not be able to come back from."
I look over at Emery's peacefully sleeping face and my heart leaps into my throat. I fight back tears. She has to pull through, I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't.
Milla stands up, swiping at her own tears. "I'll be leaving soon," she says abruptly. Diogo is expected to come pick me up this afternoon, but we're not sure when. Milla is still not ready to face him. "Why don't you let me take care of Blaze for you so you can sit with Emery awhile longer? Dee and I intend to go visit one of the new schools in Sector Twelve. He'll enjoy the time outside."
I chew on my lip, debating whether I should let her take my son. She cares for Blaze as much as everyone around him, so I know he won't be in any danger with her. But I worry constantly when he's not with me. His rough entry into the world, combined with my position as the Warlord's wife makes him more vulnerable.
"I second that," Bishop says, standing up and reaching for Blaze, taking the decision from my hands. "Your son needs some fresh air and you need some uninterrupted time with Emery." Bishop looks into my eyes and says reassuringly, "He'll be fine. He'll have that personal bodyguard the Commander has assigned him."
I smile at that and agree with them, allowing Bishop to hand Blaze over to Milla. The bodyguard assigned to Blaze, Karl Harding, is even bigger and more intimidating than Grayson. He has a look that I've come to understand means the recipient of that look should start running, because the man is about to take them apart piece by small piece.
After Milla leaves with Blaze and Karl, Bishop mutters something about doing an inventory check and leaves the room. I'm positive he's just giving me alone time with Emery, but I'm grateful for his thoughtfulness. She's so well-loved, she's been constantly surrounded by people since she arrived back at the clinic. Even Skye accompanied her personally, wanting to satisfy herself that Emery's care here in Sanctuary is sufficiently up to her standards.
I sit with Emery, making sure to keep hold of her arm and hand so she has as much human contact as possible. I drift through a series of daydreams, imagining what life would look like if it were absolutely perfect. All of my friends and family would be alive and well, living in a Sanctuary without strife. We would get rid of sectors and open the city to refugees. But the refugees wouldn't be running from Primitives, because Primitives would be completely eradicated owing to the vaccination we're able to create using my and Skye's immunity. In a year or so I would get pregnant with my second child, a girl this time. She would look and act just like her Auntie Skye who would visit all the time and spoil my children.
Maybe... just maybe... we'd find a band of people living in the mountains, somehow safe from the Primitives. Among them would be my grandparents. We'd welcome them into Sanctuary with open arms and they would be delighted to see their last remaining family alive and well. They would meet their great grandchildren and settle down in an apartment in my building.
After a while, when her grief starts to fade, Milla would remarry... maybe Grayson or Karl. She likes the big tough guy types. They'd settle down and she'd discover that she could have children all along, she just needed the right partner. Skye would marry... an image of Wolfe pops up and then I reject it. Too scary, too intense. And I don't see him settling down in Sanctuary. No, she can't marry him. I need Skye to stay here forever. Maybe she can marry whoever Milla doesn't hook up with. Then I laugh out loud as I imagine Skye's reaction when I tell her she's going to settle down with Milla's reject.
"Wh-what's so funny?"
I look at Emery and the laughter dies. Her blue eyes are faded, the red in them now a dull pink. The lines in her face have become deeper grooves almost overnight. Her body is thinner, weaker. Though she looks haggard, I still think she's beautiful because she's my Emery. Once more I blink back tears as I explain to her about my daydream. She chuckles, a rusty sound that barely makes it past her cracked lips. I stand and pour a glass of water for her. I tilt her head and help her drink, catching the dribbles.
I sit back down and take her hand in mine again, appreciating the warmth against the palm of my hand. "I'm going to name my daughter after you," I tell her softly. "Emery is such a beautiful name."
"I'm flattered, but," she wrinkles her nose, "you can't break with family tradition. If its girl you need to name her something elemental, like the rest of you. Something really lovely, like... Rayne. I always loved the smell and the sound of rain. It washes away all the bad."
I smile at her. "Rayne it is then."