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Chapter 44: Healed

"Wanda. . . "

"We don't have time. I'd do it myself, but I can't get the angle right. There's no other way. "

"I don't think I can. . . do it. "

"For Jamie, even?" I pushed the good side of my face as hard as I could against the headrest of the passenger seat and closed my eyes.

Jared was holding the rough fist-sized stone I'd found. He'd been weighing it in his hand for five minutes.

"You just have to get the first few layers of skin off. Just hide the scar, that's all. C'mon, Jared, we have to hurry. Jamie. . . "

Tell him I said to do it now. And make it a good one.

"Mel says do it now. And make sure you do it hard enough. Get it all the first time. "

Silence.

"Do it, Jared!"

He took a deep breath, a gasp. I felt the air move and squeezed my eyes tighter.

It made a squishing sound and a thud-that was the first thing I noticed-and then the shock of the blow wore off, and I felt it, too.

"Ungh," I groaned. I hadn't meant to make any sound. I knew that would make it worse for him. But so much was involuntary with this body. Tears sprang up in my eyes, and I coughed to hide a sob. My head rang, vibrated in aftershock.

"Wanda? Mel? I'm sorry!"

His arms wrapped around us, pulled us into his chest.

"'S okay," I whimpered. "We're okay. Did you get it all?"

His hand touched my chin, turned my head.

"Ahh," he gasped, sickened. "I took half your face off. I'm so sorry. "

"No, that's good. That's good. Let's go. "

"Right. " His voice was still weak, but he leaned me back into my seat, settling me carefully, and then the car rumbled beneath us.

Ice-cold air blew in my face, shocking me, stinging my raw cheek. I'd forgotten what air-conditioning felt like.

I opened my eyes. We were driving down a smooth wash-smoother than it should have been, carefully altered to be this way. It snaked away from us, coiling around the brush. I couldn't see very far ahead.

I pulled the visor down and flipped open the mirror. In the shadowy moonlight, my face was black and white. Black all across the right side, oozing down my chin, dripping across my neck, and seeping into the collar of my new, clean shirt.

My stomach heaved.

"Good job," I whispered.

"How much pain are you in?"

"Not much," I lied. "Anyway, it won't hurt much longer. How far are we from Tucson?"

Just then, we reached pavement. Funny how the sight of it made my heart race in panic. Jared stopped, keeping the car hidden in the brush. He got out and removed the tarps and chains from the bumper, putting them in the trunk. He got back in and eased the car forward, checking carefully to make sure the highway was empty. He reached for the headlights.

"Wait," I whispered. I couldn't speak louder. I felt so exposed here. "Let me drive. "

He looked at me.

"It can't look like I walked to the hospital like this. Too many questions. I have to drive. You hide in the back and tell me where to go. Is there something you can hide under?"

"Okay," he said slowly. He put the car into reverse and pulled it back into the deeper brush. "Okay. I'll hide. But if you take us somewhere I don't tell you to go. . . "

Oh! Melanie was stung by his doubt, as was I.

My voice was flat. "Shoot me. "

He didn't answer. He got out, leaving the engine running. I slid across the cup holders into his seat. I heard the trunk slam.

Jared climbed into the backseat, a thick plaid blanket under his arm.

"Turn right at the road," he said.

The car was an automatic, but it had been a long time and I was unsure behind the wheel. I moved ahead carefully, pleased to find that I remembered how to drive. The highway was still empty. I pulled out onto the road, my heart reacting to the open space again.

"Lights," Jared said. His voice came from low on the bench.

I searched till I found the switch, then flicked them on. They seemed horribly bright.

We weren't far from Tucson -I could see a yellowish glow of color against the sky. The lights of the city ahead.

"You could drive a little faster. "

"I'm right at the limit," I protested.

He paused for a second. "Souls don't speed?"

I laughed. The sound was only a tad hysterical. "We obey all laws, traffic laws included. "

The lights became more than a glow-they turned into individual points of brightness. Green signs informed me of my exit options.

" Take Ina Road. "

I followed his instructions. He kept his voice low, though, enclosed as we were, we could both have shouted.

It was hard to be in this unfamiliar city. To see houses and apartments and stores with signs lit up. To know I was surrounded, outnumbered. I imagined what it must feel like for Jared. His voice was remarkably calm. But he'd done this before, many times.

Other cars were on the road now. When their lights washed my windshield, I cringed in terror.

Don't fall apart now, Wanda. You have to be strong for Jamie. This won't work if you can't do that.

I can. I can do it.

I concentrated on Jamie, and my hands were steadier on the wheel.

Jared directed me through the mostly sleeping city. The Healing facility was just a small place. It must have been a medical building once-doctors' offices, rather than an actual hospital. The lights were bright through most of the windows, through the glass front. I could see a woman behind a greeting desk. She didn't look up at my headlights. I drove to the darkest corner of the parking lot.

I slid my arms through the straps of the backpack. It wasn't new, but it was in good shape. Perfect. There was just one more thing to do.

"Quick, give me the knife. "

"Wanda. . . I know you love Jamie, but I really don't think you could use it. You're not a fighter. "

"Not for them, Jared. I need a wound. "

He gasped. "You have a wound. That's enough!"

"I need one like Jamie's. I don't know enough about Healing. I have to see exactly what to do. I would have done it before, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to drive. "

"No. Not again. "

"Give it to me now. Someone will notice if I don't go inside soon. "

Jared thought it through quickly. He was the best, as Jeb had said, because he could see what had to be done and do it fast. I heard the steely sound of the knife coming out of the sheath.

"Be very careful. Not too deep. "

"You want to do it?"

He inhaled sharply. "No. "

"Okay. "

I took the ugly knife. It had a heavy handle and was very sharp; it came to a tapered point at the tip.

I didn't let myself think about it. I didn't want to give myself a chance to be a coward. The arm, not the leg-that's all I paused to decide. My knees were scarred. I didn't want to have to hide that, too.

I held my left arm out; my hand was shaking. I braced it against the door and then twisted my head so that I could bite down on the headrest. I held the knife's handle awkwardly but tightly in my right hand. I pressed the point against the skin of my forearm so I wouldn't miss. Then I closed my eyes.

Jared was breathing too hard. I had to be fast or he would stop me.

Just pretend it's a shovel opening the ground, I told myself.

I jammed the knife into my arm.

The headrest muffled my scream, but it was still too loud. The knife fell from my hand-jerking sickeningly out from the muscle-and then clunked against the floor.

"Wanda!" Jared rasped.

I couldn't answer yet. I tried to choke back the other screams I felt coming. I'd been right not to do this before driving.

"Let me see!"

"Stay there," I gasped. "Don't move. "

&

nbsp; I heard the blanket rustling behind me despite my warning. I pulled my left arm against my body and yanked the door open with my right hand. Jared's hand brushed my back as I half fell out the door. It wasn't a restraint. It was comfort.

"I'll be right back," I coughed out, and then I kicked the door shut behind me.

I stumbled across the lot, fighting nausea and panic. They seemed to balance each other out-one keeping the other from taking control of my body. The pain wasn't too bad-or rather, I couldn't feel it as much anymore. I was going into shock. Too many kinds of pain, too close together. Hot liquid rolled down my fingers and dripped to the pavement. I wondered if I could move those fingers. I was afraid to try.

The woman behind the reception desk-middle-aged, with dark chocolate skin and a few silver threads in her black hair-jumped to her feet when I lurched through the automatic doors.

"Oh, no! Oh, dear!" She grabbed a microphone, and her next words echoed from the ceiling, magnified. "Healer Knits! I need you in reception! This is an emergency!"

"No. " I tried to speak calmly, but I swayed in place. "I'm okay. Just an accident. "

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