Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles) (27 page)

Or had he simply dropped his guard too soon? He should’ve known it wouldn’t be over.

Alendra shook him and he felt coolness on his cheeks. “Bestret sent a transmission giving some details and asking for the nearest hospital. Maera’s driver is showing her the way.”

Elei shook his head, not knowing how to push out the words lodged in his throat. Not sure they’d make sense.

He feared... He dreaded. The images of the nightmare were returning to haunt him. Maybe that dream would come true after all.

He reached down, clasped Kalaes’ wrist, bowed his head. Peppery smell, mixed with sweat and the copper of blood
.

One of our own,
Rex whispered.

Yeah.

His heart started to thump faster. With a gasp, he hunched over, lifting a hand to his chest. Faintly he heard Alendra asking him something, Dain’s voice rising.

Was he having a heart attack, too? Would he die together with Kalaes?

Fitting. It was fitting.

But there was no pain. His breath came short, faster and faster, and the muscles in his arms contracted. His hands curled into fists.

Rex would fix his own.

“Back,” he heard himself say, then louder, “get back!”

“Elei,” Alendra said, her voice high with panic, “what are you doing?”

He shot to his feet, circled Kalaes’ body and shoved Iset away. She protested, he could hear her indignant shouts, background noise. He knelt by Kalaes, raised his fist and brought it down on Kalaes’ chest.

He felt the rib snap. He froze, his fist raised, watching Kalaes’ face. Sweat dripped down his face. Still he waited.

Kalaes’ eyes opened and he arched off the floor with a gasp. His hands clawed at nothing, his gaze unfocused and wild.

Elei lowered his fist, although he couldn’t unclench his fingers. He couldn’t catch his breath and his sides hurt as if he’d been running for hours. Rex still pulsed inside his head, the colors blinding in their intensity.

Alendra knelt by his side and wrapped an arm around his back, then leaned over Kalaes. “Hospital’s less than five minutes away,” she said. “Hang on.”

Kalaes said nothing, and Elei forced own his hand to unfold so he could place it on Kalaes’ chest, to feel it fall and rise. The colors were beginning to fade, but his vision wasn’t clearing. The outlines remained blurry, the world undefined.

“Elei,” Alendra whispered and he blinked, trying in vain to clear his eyes. “Hang on. We’re almost there.”

Hang on?
He was okay. Kalaes was the one who needed attention. Shapes shifted and danced around him, turning his stomach. The world was out of focus.

“Elei, talk to me. Can you see me?” Alendra tugged on him and his body was heavy, as in a dream, not responding. He wanted to answer, but couldn’t remember the question.

“I told you it was a concussion,” Iset said from somewhere near but he couldn’t tell where. “Keep talking to him.”

“Prepare to move out,” another voice said. “Hospital in view.”

When had they gotten there? Time stretched, then seemed to jump. He was missing time. Why was he missing time?

Cold air hit his face. The aircar door was opening.

“Hold on to me,” Alendra said, and another arm came around his back from the other side and he was lifted to his feet.

Crap, why couldn’t he focus on anything?

“Kal,” he slurred, the floor of the aircar rocking like the deck of a ship at sea.

He should be scared, shouldn’t he? He should be doing something, like checking Kalaes was still breathing. Why wasn’t Rex reacting? Had it given up on him?

“Hey.” Alendra was pressed against him, her arm tight around his waist. “We’re almost there. Are you ready?”

When you are
, he wanted to say but that would be too much like Poena’s words, too much like death, so he didn’t.

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

“She’s found him,” Mantis said with no preamble, entering the room where Hera and Sacmis were fiddling with the communicator.

Hera sat back, her heart in her throat. “Maera found Kalaes?”

“Apparently she had patrols looking for him. She got a message less than an hour ago telling her he’d been found alive.”

Hera shot to her feet, her mouth opening and closing. She had no idea what to say.

“Excellent,” Sacmis said and rising caught her arm. “Do you have coordinates?”

“Well... That’s the catch,” Mantis said, and it was only then Hera noticed he was not smiling.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“The same source that sent the message to Maera just sent another transmission asking for the nearest hospital.”

“But that does not mean...” Hera took a step toward him, yanking her arm free of Sacmis’ hold. “The transmission came from a Gultur aircar, is that not so? Why do you think it’s Kalaes?”

“Young male, heart attack. Infected with the Rex parasite.” Mantis’ mouth turned down at the corners. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Each breath rattled in Hera’s chest. “Hells,” she whispered, her mind fogged over like glass. “Will he be admitted? What if they cannot…?” She turned on her heel and headed to the door. “I’m going there.”

“I’m coming with you.” Sacmis hurried after her.

“Be careful,” Mantis said quietly. “I’ll keep your city until you return.”

Hera was sure he would; never had a doubt. “I fought to fix this world,” she said as she strode out. “But only you can make it work. This is your city now.” And she left without waiting to hear his answer.

The hospital was right outside the center of Dakru City. The street kids manning the gates of the first wall let them through, and Hera drove out between thinning houses and then into an industrial park with factories and clinics.

“Turn left here.” Sacmis checked her longgun, getting ready to clear a path to Kalaes.

Good.

The hospital was a typically square, tall building though this one was meant for Gultur and was therefore freshly painted and covered in glass and shiny metal. She wondered if she’d have to shoot everyone in sight to find Kalaes. Who knew how the Gultur manning the hospital had reacted to the news of the capitulation?

Hera had rather hoped the killing was over.

They rounded the hospital fence to the heavy iron gates as Sacmis lowered her window and took aim.

An aircar was parked in front of the watchtower and an armed Gultur guard stood below its open door, longgun pointed.

The odd thing was, it was pointed at another Gultur, identical in her gray uniform but for her gleaming visor.

“What’s going on?” Sacmis breathed.

“Whoever is against the guards is on our side,” Hera said firmly as she drove closer. “Can you disable her?”

“I assume that’s a rhetorical question,” Sacmis muttered and pressed the trigger. The guard jerked before the deafening crack of the gunshot had reached Hera’s ears.

A slender figure appeared on the deck of the parked aircar.
Another Gultur?

Hera narrowed her eyes as she maneuvered the vehicle closer.
No, not a Gultur.
Golden hair fluttered like a glowing mist in the headlights of the watchtower. “Ale,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat.

Alendra raised her gun but did not fire. She seemed to be waiting as Hera parked and hurried out of the vehicle with Sacmis.

“Ale.” She waved and Alendra lowered her gun.

“Hera?”

Hera clambered up the ladder, Sacmis on her heels. Alendra gave her a hand up and Hera squeezed it as she reached the deck, proof her friend was alive. “It’s so good to see you. Is Kalaes with you?” Hope made breathing difficult.

“Kalaes and Elei,” Alendra said, and Hera suddenly saw how red-rimmed and wet her eyes were. “Come on. We need your help.”

 

 

***

 

“Elei?” whispered a woman’s voice. A hand caught his face and he hissed as fire spread along his jaw. He tried to make out the hazy face leaning over him, tried to place the soft voice.

“Hera?”
Oh gods, more hallucinations?
Panic gripped him and he started to shake.

Slender arms came around him and warmth enveloped him. Silky hair tickled his neck and all he could smell was sugar —
Gultur, Echo
— and Rex jolted inside him, so he shook harder.

“He has a pretty bad concussion,” Alendra’s voice said, her voice gritty.

Oh yeah, he did. Had surely cracked his skull open, left his sanity leaking on the floor. How could Hera be there?

“We took Dakru City, Elei,” Hera said and made a sound half-way between laughter and a sob. “It’s done.”

“Kal...” he rasped, trying to break free, scared when he couldn’t, when tears rose to his eyes. When had he completely lost control over his body’s reactions?

Hera pulled back and he reeled where he knelt. She grabbed his shoulders, stopping him from toppling over. “Where’s Kalaes?”

“Here,” Alendra said.

A sharp breath and Elei was released. “Is he alive?”

He swayed and bent over, the sudden movement making him want to puke his guts out.

“His heart stopped,” someone said —
Bestret, probably
— “but now it’s beating again. He’s still unstable, though.”

“Let’s get moving,” Hera snapped. “Start driving, Sacmis is clearing the way. And get me the Palace on the transmitter.”

Hera was back. Hera was in charge. Everything would be okay.

Elei’s frantic heartbeat began to slow at long last. He listened to Hera bark orders against the static of the transmission, commanding whoever was at the other end to demand the hospital’s cooperation.

They’d obey, he thought fuzzily, resting his forehead on his drawn-up knees. The hospital, the guards, everyone.  

For their own good, they’d better.

 

***

 

Gurneys, nurses and doctors giving them dark looks, the sweet scent of Regina wafting everywhere.

Hera shut it all out. She was vaguely aware of Alendra leaving with Zoe to check a gash on her arm, of Sacmis standing guard at the door of the room they’d been issued, grateful one of them, at least, kept a level head.

Hera was too horrified to think straight.

Elei, Kalaes, Ale — they’d been supposed to be a distraction. Meant to stay out of the battle. And she’d thought they’d all died.

They looked like they’d been through three wars and barely come out alive. In fact — Hera leaned closer to Kalaes’ cot, her throat closing — some of them were still fighting for their lives. Electrodes were attached to Kalaes’ broad chest, connected to a large artificial pacemaker. Bandages covered much of his ribs and were wrapped around one thigh, under which, Hera knew, were stitched-up wounds. 

He was so still. His face was blank in an unnatural sleep. Coma, the doctor had said, but she did not like the word. He’d wake up soon. He had to.

She smoothed the dark hair off his face.
Please, Kal, wake up.

“His heartbeat is still irregular,” the doctor said, her cold blue eyes not meeting Hera’s.

Hera knew that. She’d been watching the heart monitor like a hawk for the past couple of hours since they’d come in. “But he’s improving?”

The doctor pursed her lips. “Yes, he is. Although his body temperature is much higher than expected for a mortal.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her mouth. “Rex,” she whispered.

A whimper drew her attention and she glanced over at the other cot where Elei lay.

The boy didn’t look much better than his adopted brother. He was stitched up as much as Kalaes, his arm, his side, the side of his face. His jaw was swollen, his right eye almost shut. A bandage was wrapped around his head. He, too, was running a fever according to the doctors, but Hera hoped that was Rex as well, helping him heal.

The worst thing, though, was the muttering, the seemingly endless string of words coming from Elei. Elei who was usually so quiet you had to drag the words out by force.

“What about him?” Hera whispered.

“Cat...” Elei muttered, shifting restlessly on the cot, his fingers clutching the covers. “I lost Cat. Can’t find him, there’s smoke... Ale? Come back. Please, Ale, come back. I wish... I wish Hera was here...”

Tears stung Hera’s eyes. She wiped at them shakily and went to sit at his side. She took his hand. Blood had crusted under his fingernails and his knuckles were scraped raw. She smoothed them. “What about him?” she repeated, her voice choked.

“Hits to the head are tricky.” The doctor walked around the cot to stand on the other side and folded her arms over her green coat. “You said he was coherent when you found him?”

Hera opened her mouth to say yes, but stopped. Coherent. He’d spoken her name, she remembered that clearly, with such disbelief in his voice... He’d hugged her back.

Had he?

Oh gods.
The tears finally spilled free, the tears she’d been holding inside since she’d seen the explosion on the giant screens. They burned her cheeks. “No, I do not know. But he was awake.”

Unlike now, when he seemed caught in an endless loop of nightmares and memories, unable to surface.

“Talk to them,” the doctor said, moving toward the door. “That helps.”

Elei’s fingers suddenly clenched around hers, grinding her bones together. His eyes opened, unfocused, and he frowned. “Hera?” he whispered.

“Yes. I’m here.” Her heart rose to her throat.

He nodded, a slight dip of his chin. “Did we win?”

She laughed, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I think we did.”

“You’re fuzzy.” His frown deepened.

“It’s the concussion,” she said. “You’ll get better.”

“Kal?” He rolled his head on the pillow, squinting beyond.

“He’ll be fine,” Hera croaked, a lump the size of Dakru Island in her throat. “We’ll be fine.”

He squeezed her hand again, weakly this time, his eyes closing, energy already spent. “Stay?”

“Of course. Not going anywhere.” She drew a shaky breath.

“We missed you.” He huffed, a soft exhalation. “We love you, you know.”

Hera shook her head, unable to speak, breath caught on a sob. He’d said it so matter-of-factly, as if she should have known.

Perhaps she should.

No more doubts
.

 

***

 

Hospitals weren’t so bad after all, Elei decided. Painkillers. Less dizziness. Food. A bed. Quiet.

Or maybe he was getting used to staying in white rooms with peeling paint, dressed in funny, paper-thin clothes.

Maybe
.

He slid his hand under his pillow, touched his Rasmus, the gun Pelia had given him. Hera had found it in Iset’s aircar. Its shape was familiar, comforting.

Garish lightning that cast a greenish sheen on pale skin. Rows of cots. Alendra curled up in the cot next to his, pale hair hiding her eyes. Kalaes, who’d finally woken up, with an arm thrown over his face, electrodes on his chest monitoring the steady rhythm of his heart. Zoe asleep by his side.

Hera was there, and Sacmis, dozing in the chairs by his bed. His whole family. He hadn’t jinxed it; the gods hadn’t held it against him.

So now you believe?
a little, mocking voice muttered in the back of his head.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to move. The doctor had said he seemed to be getting better. His brain had been rattled pretty badly, what with dropping facedown on the asphalt a couple of times, getting punched in the head and then banging his skull inside the urn of the Bone Tower temple.

On the whole, he was getting off lightly, the doc had said, and Elei had only shrugged, wondering what her reaction would be if Elei told her how much.

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