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Luna shakes her head to me.
Frog frowns too.
I’ve got nothing. Why are the satellite gods fucking with me today of all days?
“No? Yes?” Jane asks through her teeth, clearly in pain.
My nose flares, and I pocket my phone while I try comms, but the connection is poor too. “I had signal earlier. Back further in the maze.”I received and sent texts.“I can go back—”
“Call Thatcher,” Jane grits out, then screams, buckling forward with her hands on her belly.
Noooooo.I jolt towards her but there’s nothing I can do forpain. I’m not even carrying a damn Tylenol on me. Gonna start doing that from now on.
Luna kneels in front of her. “We’re here. It’s okay. We’ll get Thatcher.” She rests a hand on Jane’s arm, and I’m glad she’s here to be a comforting force to her cousin.
“Donnelly,” Frog says, alarmed and wiggling her earpiece. “I can’t hear anything.”
I’m messing with the radio frequency. Static crackles in my ear, which is better than no sound. I might be able to getsomethingthrough comms.
“You remember how to get back to the start of the maze?” I ask Frog.
“I think so, yeah.”
“Take Luna. As soon as you two get cell service, call 911, then the med team. Meet the paramedics at the entrance,” I instruct. Luna hears and comes over to us. “You’re gonna need to lead them here, to the center. There’s no time for anyone to get lost.”
“Okay, okay,” Frog nods repeatedly. “I can do that. Luna?”
“I’m ready. Let’s go.” She’s about to jog away, but she wavers, just to ask very quietly, “Do you know how to deliver a baby?”
Baby.
B.A.B.Y.
Even spelling it in my head doesn’t make it seem real. My pulse is trying to go haywire. “Only if watchingGrey’s Anatomycounts. You?”
“Roswell,” she names another TV show. “Think you have more experience since this is a human baby, not an alien.”
I don’t know if I can do this, I want to tell her. But like most things in my life, I try to believe I can. “I’ve got it,” I nod to her. “Stay with Frog.”
She nods back, then races off with her young bodyguard.
Returning to Jane, I squat beside the mom-to-be, fiddling with the radio while I talk. “How bad’s the pain?”
She breathes through her teeth. “It’s…dreadfu—” Her gritted scream cuts off the word. She’s white-knuckling the fountain on either side of her thighs. A knot lodges in my throat.
Come on, comms.Come on. I click the mic at my collar. “Donnelly to SFO, anyone hear me?” Nothing. “Donnelly to SFO, am I coming in clear?” I keep my voice even-tempered. Unpanicked. Even if I feel like that meme where I’m sitting in a house burning on fire.
Jane blows out a staggered breath, tears wetting the creases of her eyes.
“You think it’s false labor?” I ask in desperate hope. She’s had some scares before and raced to the hospital. Maybe that’s why she kept her pain undercover, thinking they’re false contractions.
Plus, she’s early.
It could just be more of the same. A giant false alarm.
Please, God.
“No…thisfeels different…it’s pushing lower…” She looks at me with pure fear, silent tears dripping down her cheeks. “I’m going to have this baby.” Her voice shakes. “I’m so scared.”
