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Before I can reflect on what happened, panic sets in when I feel the fresh cotton wrapped around my arm. Someone took off the gauze and re-bandaged my wound, seeing the brand Alexander gave me. That’s not good for either of us.
The visit with the Eminent might be a death sentence, but I don’t want that for Alexander. And seeing my family makes me yearn to be with them, at least touch them one last time.
It’s fine. Alexander promised he bribed a nurse.
I’m lying to myself to keep calm, and it’s not working. Alexander also told me not to trust him or anybody, and those words spin in my worried mind.
The burn doesn’t ache like before, and I push my sleeve down over the gauze, hoping I’m not doomed right after getting this far.
When I look back at the nurse, she flicks her eyes at my arm and purses her lips, but doesn’t comment.
“Can you hear me?” she asks.
“How long?” I croak.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she snips and taps a few times on her tablet.
I rest my head back on the flat pillow and feel her checking my pulse and touching tubes taped to my skin.
“How long have I been…” I trail off, looking around the room. It’s still just as empty, with no hint of what time or day it is.
The nurse moves to my side and touches my chest with a stethoscope. “We put you in an induced coma over two weeks ago,” she answers. “You’ve been through a lot, judging by your x-rays and bruising. It’s going to take some time for you to be a hundred percent, but be grateful. You needed a rest.” Her words are abrupt without the nonsense of a bedside manner. I admire that.
“It’s rough out there,” I say, curious if we can start a conversation.
She’s my age, maybe a little older, her brand clearly visible with her short-sleeved uniform.
“Heard you came from the surface,” she offers. “I thought everyone up there was dead by now.”
Her voice isn’t comforting. It’s a harsh tone of defeat that doesn’t mask her opinions. No one has a lot of empathy these days, but something tells me she never did.
“Most are dead,” I admit. “There are some ships with survivors. How long have you been down here?”
She wraps her stethoscope up and taps a few more things into her tablet.
“Two years plus,” she says. “Before it all went to shit.”
I huff a laugh, and it doesn’t hurt, but I feel the feeding tube inside my throat.
“Can we get this out?” I ask, reaching for my face and feeling the large sticker across my cheek with the hard tube underneath. My fingernails pick at the edges, and I know I can rip it out myself if needed.
“It’s all coming out today,” she tells me. “Because tonight’s the big show.”
I raise my eyebrows, and for the first time in a month, my head doesn’t hurt. This coma may have been the best medicine I never asked for. Everything feels better, and my broken body mended while I was under. I was skirting the edge of permanent brain damage at the rate I was going.
Considering the visions lately… it may be too late.
“Big show?” I ask. I know what she means, but I want to hear her say it. If she describes it to me, I might get more information to prepare myself for this guy.
“Yea,” she smirks. “They changed their mind about you. Guess you’ll be the next entertainment hour.” She leans over, her words in a harsh whisper. “He’s been waiting for something to stir things up.”
The look on my face must give away my complete confusion or shock. My heart thuds in my chest, my blood thrumming through my veins from her words.
“Changed their minds?” My question is redundant, but I can’t help but ask. I need to know for sure that my neck is next on the chopping block, but as long as my family is safe, I’ll give them whatever show they want.
She waves her hand at me, dismissing my question. “You know what I’m talking about.” When she pulls the covers down, I try to turn on my side and hide my arm, but she grips my elbow and yanks it out.
“Let’s start with this,” she says. “Should be all healed now.”
