He reached into his shirt and pulled out a bag of metahuman whole blood. He had been trying to warm it with his own body heat over the last fifteen minutes, but it still felt cool. Chaunders shook his head to himself, “Sorry, young man. This is the best I can do. Just stay with me, okay? For both our sakes?”
With deft hands that seemed to remember how to perform such normal medical tasks, he spiked the blood bag with tubing and hung it from an I.V. pole attached to his medical cart. He primed the tubing, forcing the blood down to the tip of the port and adjusted the flow before attaching the end to one of the two I.V. ports. He set the transfusion drip at a rapid pace. Next, he hung a bag of saline to provide hydration. Into the saline’s tubing, he injected a full spectrum antibiotic.
The doctor monitored the flow of both bags, adjusting periodically as he hovered. “That’s all I have to give you, young man. I don’t have a sonogram or x-ray so I can only guess about the extent of your internal injuries. I know there are many. Even if I did know what was happening inside you, I can’t perform surgery until we’re back at the Facility. I have two more units of metahuman blood I’ll give you, and the antibiotic should help you fight off infection,” he said, glancing up at the first bag of blood already half empty.
“The fluids should help, too.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes before locating his previously discarded glasses. He used his tie to wipe the lenses and replaced them onto his squat face. “You’re going to have to fight to stay alive, Creed Young. Something tells me you’ve a lot of unfinished business to attend to.”
The shady doctor leaned down and spoke directly in Creed’s ear. “I’ll make you a deal, too. You survive, and I’ll help you kill the director.” He sat back in his chair and smiled at the prospect of coming out of this not just alive, but free of Williams.
Part 2
Seven weeks after the Winter Clan’s escape from the Big Island
Location
A sprawling Texas ranch two hours south of Dallas
Chapter 20 Meg’s Malaise
The gravel crunched under her feet rhythmically. Meg was drenched with sweat. Though it was only May, the Texas heat and humidity were already stifling. Trying to take advantage of the coolest part of the day, she had begun running in the predawn darkness.
In all honesty, Meg ran in the middle of the night because it was better than lying in her nightmare sweat-soaked bed shuddering against the violent echoes compliments of Williams’ macabre memories. After talking with her family at length about the effects of her evolved gift, she agreed not to use it until they could better control its effects on her. Whatever the heck that meant.
Seven weeks passed and they were no closer to figuring out her skill than they were back on the plane. Meg knew in her heart the only way to learn the gift was to use it, but her brothers made her promise not to. They were all worried about Meg.
The family basically adopted Farrow, too. She had settled into domestic life as well as could be expected of a trained assassin who grew up in a military compound. Sometimes, Meg would pick up some strange emotions from her, but Farrow wasn’t dangerous. Like Creed, the only danger she posed was to herself in her efforts to assimilate—to earn her way into their hearts. If Meg was in a better place, she would work with her some more on healing her hidden traumas.
But that’s just the problem, isn’t it? I can’t help her or anyone now. I can’t help pull them out of the mire because I’m drowning in it myself.
No one’s coming to help me, Meg thought—hating the self-pity working around her broken heart.
She can help others…she can heal other broken hearts, but there’s nothing anyone can do to mend her own.
She shook her head angrily.
Stupid self-pity, Meg. It’s not going to get you anywhere, she berated herself.
Maze was keeping perfect pace beside her. Sometimes he would dart into the brush to chase something furry and unsuspecting, but he’d only be gone for a few minutes before running up beside her with an innocent look in his clever eyes.
Running in the darkness blanketing the flat land around her gave Meg a sense of peace. With no one around, she had no empath readings to filter through or shut out. Her gift had always been a part of her, even before the double-edged sword of its evolution. She had grown pretty adept at protecting herself from the unintended onslaught of emotions bombarding her. However, it did take some of Meg’s energy and her concentration got blow into heck if she happened to feel any pain.
Even if she was walking along and suddenly whacked her elbow on door frame, as the shooting pain traveled up her arm she would also suddenly get a blast of emotions from everyone around her. For now, she was just trying not to be too clumsy
She liked to think that her runs kept her sane, kept her in control.
The moments of solitude when it was just her and the wind, made her feel normal. Most people didn’t have to worry about picking up on the innermost emotions of those around them. Most people didn’t have to worry about what it felt like to let down their guard accidentally and feel everyone’s emotions crash over them like a tsunami.