The Tide: Breakwater (Tide Series Book 2) (10 page)

“I know it looks bad, but I think she’s going to be okay,” Lauren said. “We already started her on the chelation therapy.” Holding a button on the side of the bed, Lauren raised the top half until Kara’s torso was at a forty-five degree angle. “We stitched up the back of her head, too. Judging by the wound alone, I’m guessing there’s a chance she suffered a concussion. Can’t really confirm that with any equipment we have on board, so we’ll keep her upright to avoid fluid buildup on the brain.”

“Thank you,” Dom said, caressing his daughter’s hand.

A knock at the door drew their attention. Miguel stood in the doorway with a hand around Maggie’s collar and his other arm on Sadie’s shoulder. “These two have been itching to see their sister. Mind if I let them in?”

“Should be fine,” Lauren said. “But the best thing for Kara right now is rest, understand?”

Sadie ran to her sister, and Maggie bounded behind her.

“She’s not going to turn into one of those things, is she?” Sadie asked, her eyes wet with tears.

Dom shook his head. “Dr. Winters was the one that found a way to stop the Oni Agent. She already gave it to Kara.”

“So she’ll be fine?”

Dom locked eyes with Lauren, and a grateful smile spread across his face. “Kara couldn’t be in better hands. If Dr. Winters tells me she’ll be fine, she’ll be fine.”

“We’ve done everything in our power,” Lauren said, conscious of Sadie’s gaze studying her face for any hint of a comforting lie. “Your sister’s strong, too. Every sign points to a healthy recovery.”

“Thank you,” Dom said. Still holding Kara’s hand, he gestured toward the laboratory, where Divya and Sean had busied themselves with their cell cultures. “How’s work on the cure for the prion disease coming along?”

Lauren allowed herself a small smile. As soon as Dom had found out his daughter would survive, he wanted to make sure his team was still on task to save the rest of the world. “I’m not sure we can make General Kinsey’s deadline. I’m not even sure we’re going to find
anything
on our own.” She caught Dom up on her and Peter’s efforts to identify neurological research labs that might be able to develop a prion disease cure or vaccine. “But we haven’t had time to reach out to any of those labs.”

“Understood,” Dom said. “If you’ve got a list available, might as well go talk with Chao now to see if you can reach any surviving researchers.”

Surviving researchers,
Lauren thought. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “We’ll be lucky if anyone helpful is even alive, much less able to be contacted.”

“Won’t know until we try,” Dom said.

“I know, I know.”

Next to them, Peter recorded Adam’s vitals and checked the man’s bandages.

“Can you take care of our patients while I talk to Chao?” Lauren asked.

“Surgeon, researcher, lab tech, nurse.” Peter smirked. “I’m happy to do your bidding, Dr. Winters.” His expression grew serious. “Really, I’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. Go find us a cure.”

––––––––

L
auren knocked before she entered the electronics workshop.

“How’s Adam?” Samantha asked, jumping up from her workstation and knocking over a pile of empty energy drink cans.

“He’s okay. From what Sean and Divya told me, he’s probably suffering a couple of broken or fractured ribs, but they dealt with the internal bleeding—”

“Internal bleeding?” Chao perked up from behind his monitors.

“Yes, but they patched him up, and we started him on the chelation therapy.” She glanced at the empty computer station where Adam normally worked. His blue Doctor Manhattan figurine was lying on its side, and she righted it. “He’ll be back in this seat in no time.”

Samantha’s face relaxed, and Chao breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Lauren held out a notebook and a small USB flash drive. “Peter and I compiled a list of a few laboratories we hoped you might reach out to. We’ve included all the contact information we could, too. It’s by no means complete, but it should be a good starting point.”

“Thanks.” Chao took the drive and inserted it into his computer. “We’ll do what we can. Email, phone, radio...whatever it takes, we’ll find someone out there who can help us.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Lauren said. “Anything else I can do to help?”

“No, I don’t—” Chao stopped. “Actually, we could use some help at Adam’s station. It’s going to take time just to try all these phone numbers.” He pointed to the list that popped up on one of his monitors. “But I don’t want to take you from your research or your patients.”

“No problem. I’ll recruit another crew member or two.”

“That’d be perfect.”

Lauren left the workshop. As she entered the passageway, she spotted Renee and Glenn speaking near the door of the medical bay.

Glenn waved to her and said, “Dom’s girl is a trooper, huh?”

“Certainly is,” Lauren replied.

“She saved Adam’s life,” Renee said. “I mean, she ran straight at the Skulls attacking him. We never would’ve made it in time, but she—” Renee shook her head. “That girl is cut from the same block as Dom, that’s for sure.”

Lauren readjusted her white coat. “She’s something. I can’t even imagine everything those girls went through while waiting for Meredith and Dom...but I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Anything you want, Doc,” Glenn replied.

“You two interested in working as telemarketers?”

Renee arched a skeptical eyebrow, and Glenn’s brow furrowed.

Lauren placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Never too late to realize those dreams.”

***

D
om shifted in his seat while he watched the EKG’s endless pattern reporting Kara’s heartbeat. Each time he saw the familiar peaks, he felt a sense of relief while simultaneously fearing the line might go flat at any second. He kept telling himself she’d be okay now; she was stabilized and healing.

Sadie had fallen asleep, curled up in a neighboring bed with Maggie napping at the end. Yes, both his daughters would be okay. He was lucky to have them by his side.

His right leg started to cramp. He had been sitting in the same seat since Kara had been wheeled out of the OR, and he needed to move—loosen his limbs and stretch.

He took a short stroll down the passageway. He walked toward the mess hall. Soft music drifted out of the hatch, and he leaned in as the notes swelled around him. Inside, Owen Hunt, eyes closed and head bobbing, strummed a guitar. The fingers on his left hand climbed up and down its neck as he plucked the strings with the fingers of his right.

Dom lowered himself onto a stool a table away from the seat where the former Ranger from Austin played. Owen continued his melody—some classical acoustic guitar song Dom didn’t recognize. The Ranger locked eyes with Dom for a second, and Dom nodded back, a slight gesture to keep Owen playing.

Spencer Barret, another former Ranger, came into the mess hall with an energy drink in hand and sat next to Dom. He leaned over and whispered, “We getting a free concert today?”

“Suppose so,” Dom said in a low voice. “You know what he’s playing?”

“Yep, it’s one of his originals,” Spencer whispered. “Can’t remember what he calls this one. Something about rolling seas or waves.” Dom watched Owen’s fingers with each precise movement. No mistakes. No missed notes. Perfect rhythm. Content to admire Owen’s talent, he let the music envelop him for a moment. He encouraged all the Hunters to pursue a hobby outside of their duties on the
Huntress
. It kept them sane, gave them an escape from the violent realities they faced on a daily basis.

He reminisced about his own foray into playing guitar. He’d tried to be like Peter Frampton when he was in high school. For a few years after picking the instrument up, he’d played off and on. But once he joined the CIA, his guitar sat in the corner of his living room gathering dust.

That hobby had been replaced by his fervor for work as a covert agent along with a burgeoning love for the ocean. As a kid, besides having dreams of being a rock star, he’d been enamored with sandy beaches along with crashing Atlantic waves and the ships that cruised them. Working in Langley put him just close enough to the ocean that he had learned to sail on his weekends off. It also slowly gave him the skills and connections he needed to take care of larger and larger vessels until he finally acquired the
Huntress
.

Sailing and covert ops. He was good at those things. But he was a hopeless musician.

And he figured that was okay. After all, Dom had long since come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t be good at everything. At most, he really only had time to be good at a couple of things. If he tried to master more than that, he ran the risk of being good at nothing instead. He’d made his choices long ago when he’d given up those six strings that he watched Owen manipulate so well now.

His thoughts strayed back to Kara and Sadie sleeping in the medical bay. He hadn’t been a good father to them, not for a long time. Maybe even before the divorce. He’d spent most of his life trying to excel, first in the CIA and then as captain of the
Huntress
, but he’d failed at the one thing that should have mattered most. He hoped to God he had time to make it up to his girls.

Dom left Owen to his impromptu performance. Spencer had laced his hands behind his head and was soaking up the song. The man didn’t look up when Dom left the mess hall. He went back to the medical bay and sat next to Kara’s sleeping form.

Her hand was draped over the side of the bed, and Dom held it. Her fingers seemed so thin and frail in his calloused palm. Yet she had proved time and time again she was anything but frail.

He’d do anything to take back what his daughters had seen and what they’d gone through. But the scariest part of all was that they’d lost their mother. Bethany had been an anchor for them and created a stable home. She’d practically raised them singlehandedly. By God, he didn’t blame her for their eventual divorce. She had been acting like a single parent without the benefit of actually being single.

It was up to him to replace her. He had missed Kara’s soccer games and Sadie’s dance recitals. He hadn’t been there to ensure they got to school on time or had dresses for a school dance or to take them to the library to share his favorite books. It had always been Bethany.

And he had to fill that void. On top of everything else Armageddon had piled on him, he had to fill in as both mother and father for the girls. He inhaled deeply. Bethany had played both roles before, so it was his turn now. It was the least he could do to honor Bethany’s memory, and he owed it to his daughters.

Sadie yawned, stretching her arms out, and rolled over in the neighboring bed. Her eyes opened slowly. She blinked a few times before looking up at Dom.

“Remember when you used to tell us fairy tales?”

“I do.” Dom smiled and spoke in a low voice so as not to disturb Kara. He recalled his method of co-opting movies he’d seen and books he’d read by replacing the characters with knights and princesses and changing the settings to magic forests and castles. It was a lame attempt at storytelling, but it had seemed to work. “Always used to tell you girls one before bed.”

“Until Kara decided she was too old for them.”

“That’s right. And it wasn’t long after when you were too old for them.”

Sadie frowned. “That’s not true. I always wanted to hear more. I didn’t care if it was a baby thing. I liked your stories.”

Dom felt the heavy weight of regret roll over him. She was right. He realized now she’d never asked him to stop tucking her in or making up silly stories. Kara might’ve asked. But Sadie never had. He’d been too distant, too detached from his relationship with his daughters to truly appreciate their differences—and truly appreciate
them
. “I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. I can’t believe I ever stopped.”

“It’s all right. You were busy.”

“No.” Dom shook his head. “No, it’s not all right.” He squinted, biting his lower lip in concentration. “Now, do you remember the last story I told you? I think we were in...the Kingdom of Atlantica, is that right?”

Sadie laughed. “Real original name. Right when we’re near the Atlantic.”

“Do I get bonus points for trying?”

“Sure. But just know that I’m on to you.”

“Noted. Now do you want me to continue or not?”

“Oh, yes. There’s no TV in here, so this is the best I’ve got.” Sadie settled into her pillow.

“Good. Then here it goes.”

In a world scarred by the Oni Agent, he might not get another chance to play the guitar as well as Owen. But maybe now he was getting another chance to be a better father.

***

M
eredith followed Jenna down a passageway. On her back, she carried every possession she had left in the world. It wasn’t much. Having lost her original pack escaping a Skull horde in Frederick, she had only an extra change of clothes and a pair of shoes she’d received from Fort Detrick. She thought back to everything else she’d left behind. Maybe her house was still standing in Virginia. Maybe there were still people alive and well in her neighborhood. But it didn’t matter. She was here now.

She took in the rails along the bulkhead and the dim amber lights lining the passageway. A constant groaning murmured through the ship as it rolled back and forth in the waves. Hunters and other crew members zoomed back and forth past her on their post-mission assignments. Despite working with Dom for the past couple of decades, she’d never actually seen his ship, much less boarded it. She never imagined she’d have to, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated becoming a resident of it. Yet now this ship was her new home. Dom’s crew were her new neighbors, her new family. Her life would be far different than the one she’d grown accustomed to in Virginia. But then again, she thought, wouldn’t that be true of everyone living through the apocalypse?

“The heads are over here.” Jenna gestured to a hatch.

“Ship talk for bathrooms, right?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Just didn’t want to make any mistake there.”

Jenna laughed. “No, no you don’t.” She led Meredith down the passageway and opened another hatch. Beyond it lay a small room with an overhead light and a single porthole. “And here’s your quarters.”