***
The nightmare woke me from my drugged stupor. A deep ache built in my womb and pulsed through me. I calculated my cycle, but no, I still had a few weeks for that. Still the cramps burned inside me, as did the memory of that dream.
Of Drake's dream.
Drake's memories.
My breath hitched at the realization that all of my nightmares recently had been his. This was his childhood—his inner child, not mine.
I cried for him and called out to him in my mind.
'I'm here. Are you okay?'
"Are you? I saw, Drake. I saw what happened to you."
He grew quiet and I feared he'd left.
'Do you hate me?'
"What? Why would I? You were a child trying to protect yourself. But what happened after your foster father killed himself?"
'I was in a coma for a week. Once I recovered, the orphanage took me back, and my foster mother was put on trial for abuse and negligence. I spent the next several years in and out of foster families until I finally ran away and moved in with my best friend Brad.'
My mind tumbled around as it tried to process what kind of life Drake must've had.
'How do you feel? You don't seem as drugged as your friends.'
"I don't feel that different. A little loopy and very achy."
I placed my hand on my abdomen. Sharp pain shot through me every few minutes. Maybe I had the flu. I did feel flushed. It could also be a side effect of this new "cocktail" they'd given me.
When Dr. Pana came into my room, I did my best impression of how Luke and Lucy had acted, and the doctor released me with instructions to rest for the remainder of the day.
If only a nice nap could have solved all my problems. I had to find a way to save my friends.
Chapter 13 – Sam
"Luke, Lucy, open up!" I rapped on their door again and tried the knob, as if it would magically unlock for me.
They'd never locked me out before.
Fear pricked my chest. I scanned for their mental signatures and reeled back in shock. Their minds had a weight and sluggishness to them that I'd never felt before.
My voice hitched with unshed tears. "Open up, please!"
Luke finally came to the door, and I hugged him hard. "What's wrong with you?"
"Don't know. Feel weird. Tired. Maybe we caught that flu."
I pushed my way in and felt his forehead. "You don't have a fever. Where's Lucy?"
"In bed sleeping."
I peeked in on her and then curled up on their couch. "Can I stay the night?"
Luke shrugged. "Whatever you want. I'm going to bed."
I wrapped myself in the throw blanket and reached out to Drake.
'I'm here.'
"I can't sleep."
'Neither can I. I'll stay up with you.'
And he did. When the sun came up, I finally fell asleep to the sound of his voice as he described Venice Beach.
The next morning, Luke and Lucy seemed less affected, but I woke up with a fever.
When I fell over while trying to stand, Luke picked me up and carried me back to the clinic. My weak protests did nothing to stop him.
"You're sick, Sam. Really sick. Like, 103-degree fever sick. You're going to the doctor."
I wanted to say, "The doctor that made me sick." Instead, I said something like, "Gumma mum ack," then threw up on Luke's chest and passed out.
***
I woke up groggy and in the Clinic. My head screamed at me to chop it off and put it out of its misery. My body clearly had been weighted down with lead.
"Good morning, sunshine." Dr. Sato, all five feet and ninety pounds of her, leaned in close.
Relief poured through me. Better her than Dr. Pana. "How long was I out? What happened to me?" My voice cracked, making me sound like a shipwreck survivor. I tried to lift my head. Bad idea. Sorry head.
"You get sick on boyfriend. He bring you here. You been unconscious. High fever."
"He's not my boyfriend." Mistrust tickled the back of my brain, and I instinctively reached for her mind to fill in the missing pieces of the story.
I'd been studying her dialect for weeks, but still hadn't learned enough to make sense of her thoughts.
A spasm in my abdomen wrenched me from her mind. I rested a hand on my stomach and tried to breathe.
"Are you all right? You hurting?"
"Just cramping. What am I sick with?"
"Likely flu. You be okay, just rest and fluids. Keep you here until you a little better."
I noticed the IV in my arm for the first time. "Can I go back to my room now?"
"Not yet. If you stay better and keep food down, you go to room and rest there."
"I am pretty hungry. Can I get something to eat?"
She nodded and left to get me lunch. Or dinner. I wasn't sure of the time.
After I downed a cold, limp turkey sandwich and green Jell-O, Dr. Sato declared me fit for bed rest in my own room. She unhooked me from the IV and went to sign me out.
My knees wobbled a bit as I began to dress, checking my body for anything abnormal. Nothing.
The walls kept me steady as I made my way through the Clinic. Just as the starch had returned to my legs....