“So they’ve been treating you?” I asked anxiously.
“As much as they can,” Zina replied. I noticed several nurses in here milling about the patients, and they appeared to be attentive.
I realized that the nurses wore rings on their thumbs, too: bronze.
“Did all of you make it?” Jessie asked.
Zina’s eyes grew sad, distant.
“No,” Nico replied. “I think we lost atleast five elders. They passed away before reaching the hospital. But all the infants, I believe the nurses have managed to save.”
“What about you?” Zina asked.
I drew in a breath, hoping that our group would be luckier. “We don’t know yet. We’re not all here. The rest of us should arrive in about an hour.”
“And then, what next?” my aunt asked. “Where do you all think we go from here?”
A silence fell between us. Nobody had an answer.
EIGHT
I couldn’t stay longwith Zina, since the rest of our community arrived. The medical ward became too flooded with people, and they needed every spare inch of space.
My uncle, aunt, and cousins stayed with Zina and Nico, but Jessie, Robert, Bea and I took our leave. I wanted to check on my parents, in any case, and Jessie and Robert went to locate their families.
My heartbeat quickened as I witnessed the sheer number of people in the hallways now—the space of those who had been lying down had been encroached upon, so much that they could hardly rest on the floor without risk of being trampled. People darted in and out of the various wards, trying to locate friends and family members. I held Bea close to me as we shuffled through the crowds, my heart aching at the distress on our people’s faces. We, as a group, had always been strong. Resilient. Unfazed—by whatever nature threw at us.
Now, I saw fear and broken spirits.
And I could tell most already sensed there was no goingback after this. No returning to that jungle. No returning home.
How could wereally? I had to confront the issue myself. Anna had said that Fairwell had limited resources, and that those who wanted permanent use of those resources needed to be a positive contribution to their society.
“It’s how we have survived and thrived for so long.”
It would be foolish to think they would be willing to stretch those resources across—who knew how many miles of ocean—to help us live permanently and safely in our jungles, guarded from any future nomad attacks. It had taken two of Fairwell’s extravagant hover ships to fend off those aggressors. And without that ridiculous level of defense, we would never be able to sleep at night—from the trauma of what we’d experienced—even if there was something left to return to. It would no longer feel likehome.
It felt like it had stolen something from me by coming here, something precious. It had invaded our privacy, our sacred space.The thought I’d had, when I first saw that the crawling metallic beast had followed us back to our base, came rushing back.
Ithadstolen something. Something both sacred and precious. And now I couldn’t believe there was any way to get it back.
Tears stung my eyes as I stepped into one ward after another, searching for my parents among the sea of heads. I tried to bite back the tears, but Bea noticed.
“What’s wrong, Tani?” she asked, wide-eyed.
I choked. “Nothing, Bea. It’s just… dusty in here.”
It was my sister who spotted my parents. They lay on beds next to each other in room seven. Someone had helped them change out of their old clothes, and now they wore cotton gowns. They had been given new, sturdier casts to support their injuries.
I lowered myself to my mother’s level. I leaned in to kiss her cheek and pressed my cheek against hers. Tears threatened to fall again.
“Did they examine you both?” I managed, sucking in a breath.
I felt my mother’s jaw clench, and I raised my head.
“Yes,” my father said, his expression worryingly grim. “They did a full examination of both of us and it’s not good. We both have fractured arms and legs, and your mother suffered a fracture in the neck from the fall.”
“They’re hoping it won’t have long-term effects on mobility, though,” my mother added quickly, noting the growing horror on my and Bea’s faces.
