Chapter 52: Taran

As we approach the city gates, Diogo lifts his radio and calls in, asking for a Doctor Bishop to meet him at the Tower and to come prepared to treat a patient. Someone responds. No one ever seems to ignore the Commander's requests, so I have no doubt that the doctor will be on Diogo's doorstep when we get there.
As we drive from sector to sector, waiting for guards to open each gate, I begin to drift off. The trauma of the past hours combined with the warmth of Diogo's jacket is dragging me into unconsciousness.
"Taran." His sharp voice jolts me and I straighten in my seat. "No sleeping."
I frown as we arrive in Sector One and head straight for the Tower. I'm not sure why I can't sleep. I was bitten, not hit on the head. But I suppose I look as dirty and bloody as the other survivors at the scene of that massacre. Maybe he doesn't want to take any chances. Maybe I shouldn't. I might've hit my head while I was scrambling around, fighting with the Primitive. I touch my head and tentatively slide my fingers around, looking for a tender spot. I don't find a bump, but I do find dried blood. I feel nauseous as I remember the blood that had sprayed from the Primitive Diogo killed to save my life. I drop my hand quickly.
As we approach the building, I see an elderly man waiting outside. He nods toward Diogo as we pull up. He steps back as we pull up to the curb and then reaches for my door, opening it for me.
"Mrs. Fuentes, I assume?" he says, holding his hand out to me.
I glance nervously at Diogo, who isn't reacting with his usual protective arrogance whenever someone tries to touch me. "It's alright, Taran," he assures me. "Doc Bishop is my personal physician."
I take his hand and allow him to help me from the jeep. I'm forced to grip the door handle, wincing, as I put weight on my injured leg. The doctor peers hard into my face, stooping a little so he's on my level. He's a tall, thin black man, probably in his eighties. His dark brown eyes look me over with sympathy and kindness.
He clucks his tongue and says, "Looks like you've run into a bit of trouble."
I try to respond, but truthfully, I don't know what to say. Diogo told me to keep the attack secret. I shrug. Diogo comes around the jeep, takes my hand from the doctor's grip and lifts me into his arms. He strides into the building while the doctor trails behind.
"You okay to take the stairs?" Diogo asks without looking back. "I can have a man sent over for the manual lift."
"I'll be fine, son." The doctor's response sounds amused as he follows us into the stairwell. Several floors later he's still trailing behind us, barely out of breath and not once asking to stop for a break.
"How old is he?" I ask Diogo in a whisper.
Diogo flashes me a quick look, his mouth softening into a partial smile for just a moment. "Eighty-two," he says. "Been my doc since I took the city. He attends my soldiers. Used to be a military surgeon around the time of the Great Fall."
I gape at Diogo's shoulder, wishing I could see past him to the doctor. Meeting people his age is extremely rare. The harsh conditions, lack of medication and illness usually kills people at a relatively young age.
Diogo enters the apartment and carries me straight through to the bedroom. He places me gently on the bed and steps back. The doctor is a few minutes behind us, having slowed down around the 15th floor. He comes through the door, trying to catch his breath.
"My walking regime is nothing compared to those stairs," he says jokingly and sets his bag down on the end of the bed. I realize he climbed all those floors with his heavy medical bag.
"She's been bitten," Diogo says bluntly, his arms crossed over his chest, massive biceps bulging with threat.
The doctor straightens, his mouth dropping open in shock. His dark eyes look me over and this time I see a combination of pity and fear. "Bitten," he says in a hushed voice. He doesn't ask for clarification. He knows exactly what Diogo means. "And she hasn't turned yet?"
I flinch at the ‘yet' and cringe back into the pillows behind me. No one has heard of a bitten human surviving the experience. I should be either dead or turned.
"As you can see," Diogo confirms.
"How long ago?" The doctor busies himself once more with his bag, setting some of his things down on the bed next to my legs.
"About half an hour." Diogo's sharp eyes take in every move the doctor makes.
"I need you to be specific, Commander. Her life depends on your answers."
Diogo growls and shoves an agitated hand over his head as though he thinks the doctor is threatening me instead of helping. "More than half an hour, but less than 40 minutes."
It seems shocking that so little time has passed since I was bitten, it feels like hours. If feels like days since Xavier grabbed me and took me over the wall, fleeing into the desert to meet with those Outsiders. But really, it's only been hours.
The doctor takes a breath and moves toward me. "Let's have a look."
Diogo steps in front of him, blocking his path. "You breathe a word of this to anyone and you will die, slowly and painfully. Your family will be turned from the city and I'll make damn sure the last thing they experience is the bite."
I'm not sure if threatening the man who is about to administer to me is the best idea, but I keep my mouth shut. Diogo fears for me and when he's concerned, his feelings take the direction of rage. Apparently his doctor knows this as well. He places a hand on Diogo's shoulder and says, "She's going to be fine, son. But I need to tend her. She's likely in shock, which can kill almost as fast as a bite if left untended."
Diogo grunts and steps to the side, allowing the doctor to settle himself next to me on the bed. He reaches for the collar of Diogo's jacket and says, "Do you mind if we remove this?"
Diogo reaches for me, helping to lift me, the doctor tugging the jacket off while I lay helplessly. I don't feel like an invalid, but I'm happy not to have to move. My body feels battered in the worst way and the doctor is right, I'm probably still in shock.
His fingers are gentle on my neck, but after examining the bite he lets out a low whistle. "This thing goes halfway around your neck; the Primitive was going to tear your throat out."
I swallow hard at this news. I hadn't really thought about it, but yes, the marks feel deep and they are in the front and back of my neck. If Diogo hadn't taken her head off she would've killed me. He must have superb control to have been able to kill her in one stroke without touching me with the blade.
The doctor pours antiseptic on some gauze and wipes the wounds. I flinch and my eyes water as the antiseptic hits the open wound, but I hold any further reaction in so Diogo doesn't separate the old man's head from his body. When he finishes, he drops the gauze. It's bright pink with my blood. He places another piece of gauze over the wound and tapes it to my skin.
"You need to check her ankle, and then the rest of her," Diogo says coldly from beside the bed.
"Her ankle?"
I struggle to sit up straighter and pull my leg up the bed. "I twisted it while I was running."
He nods and turns to attend my foot. The pain shifts from my neck to my ankle as he probes it. "No broken bones," he announces. "Stay off it for a few days and it'll be good as new."
Silence falls. We're all thinking the same thing. I was bitten. What if I still turn? What if I don't have a few days?
Doctor Bishop turns back to me and takes my hand. "If you were going to turn, you would've done it by now, Mrs. Fuentes."
I nod and speak past the lump of fear in my throat. "Taran, please," I tell him. "And how do you know that? We've all been told that a bitten human is a dead human. No exceptions."
He nods and scratches at the dark whiskers on his chin. "Call me Bishop," he says warmly. "And yes, we used to know that. But we also used to know that a bitten human turned into a Primitive within seconds. Minutes at the most. Necrotitis Primeval rushes through the system, changing the very basic cell structure of its victim and it does this with each beat of the heart. Each time blood passes from the heart to the torso, to the extremities, it carries the virus, changing everything in its path. The only known method that slows the process down is freezing."
He pauses for a moment letting his words sink in. I already know this, having seen the virus in action, but it's quite another thing hearing it from a medical professional. He squeezes my hand and smiles. "You would have turned by now if you were going to turn. I'm completely confident in this assessment." He looks to Diogo and then back to me with a teasing glint in his eye. "The Commander will keep an eye on you and let me know if you suddenly have a craving for raw meat. Taran?"
"Yes?" I whisper, tears are gathering in my eyes.
"You aren't going to turn." He looks into my eyes with a gentle reassuring expression. "Trust me."
I blink the tears away. I'm not going to turn. This is the first moment since I've been bitten that I've allowed myself to believe that I won't turn. I thought maybe it was just taking longer to go through my system. That something within me would trigger and I would become a mindless zombie in the blink of an eye. But the doctor is right. It would have happened by now, each beat of my heart would have forced the change.
"Thank you Bishop." I smile weakly at him.
"It's my pleasure, Taran." He stands and turns to Diogo, his voice growing stern once more. "You need to keep a close eye on her," he says as he gathers his things. "Not because there's a chance she could turn, but because she had some serious shocks today. And though she seems to be doing well now, delayed shock could still set in. Watch for signs of rapid pulse and breathing, nausea or vomiting, enlarged pupils, dizziness or fainting."
"You stay and watch over her," Diogo growls. "Make sure none of that happens."
"I can't stay, there are wounded coming in," Bishop says, picking up his bag and turning back to us. Diogo has come to stand next to me. I gape at the Doctor. I've never heard anyone refuse Diogo before. I'd be more amused if this wasn't about me. "Your wife will be fine," he assures Diogo. "She's in remarkably good shape considering what happened. Help her get cleaned up so the scrapes on her arms and legs don't get infected, then tuck her in and let her sleep for as long as she wants."
"You said I should watch for signs of shock," Diogo snaps angrily, letting his agitation at my condition show. "How will I know if she's gone into shock if she's asleep?"
"By the time you clean her up, get her something to eat, and get her into bed, you'll know. Delayed shock is unlikely. This is just a precaution."
When Diogo opens his mouth to argue I reach out to take his hand, tugging his attention down to me. "I'm fine, Diogo," I say softly, trying to give him an earnest look. "I just want to sleep. It's been such a long day and I'm exhausted."
He nods and then turns hard eyes on Bishop. "You stay by your radio and you come back here immediately if requested."
"Of course, Commander." His voice is kind considering Diogo is being rude. I suppose he's had a lot of years of handling our Warlord.
"And you'll come back to see her tomorrow," Diogo insists.
"Nothing can keep me away." He winks at me. "She's the most pleasant patient I've had in a long time. You soldiers are all stoicism and gruff answers, but I've never seen such a lot of children when it comes to injuries. You'd think a sliver amounts to gangrene."
I laugh out loud, some of the tension draining from my shoulders. Surely Bishop wouldn't be making jokes if he truly thought I was in danger.
Diogo walks the doctor out and then returns. His face is still set in rigid lines as he lifts me from the bed and helps me remove my dress and panties. He goes over my entire body, his fingers brushing along my skin. His face becomes grimmer with each scape and bruise he finds. As he kneels at my feet, his hand just barely resting above my swollen ankle, he says, "You will never again do something this reckless."
My heart beats faster and I look him in the eye, promising, "I won't."
He rises, standing over me, his hands sliding to my bare waist and holding me upright. "No, Taran. You won't be tempted to do something like this again, because I will make sure that you have no reason to do it."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I will be removing your reason to leave. I will remove Gunther, and I will destroy the rebellion."
I stare at him, trying to decide if he means what he says. But with a sinking heart, I realize, I already know. Diogo always tells the truth. If he says he's going to destroy the rebellion, then that's what he's going to do.
"You don't understand what happened." I need to get him to listen to me, explain why I left.
"No, you don't understand." His words are quiet, dripping in ice. Almost worse than if he was yelling at me. "I don't care what happened, Taran. What I do care about, is what almost happened. And it won't happen again."