“But—”
I stop myself. Doc and the Warden are trying to keep Jacks safe. If Doc is taking orders from Dr. Reynolds, Jacks will be a lot safer if he doesn’t know about the failed assassination. Even his father may not be able to protect him from Dr. Reynolds. Because if I tell him, he’ll definitely confront Doc about it. That’s just Jacks.
“Doc is unreliable. You know that better than anyone else. Can’t you just find Ken?”
“It took you three weeks to find him before, and that’s only because he wanted to see you.” He looks at my bleak gaze and softens. “But I can ask Doc to contact him. Tell him I need to ask him about an incoming patient, or something.”
“Okay.” That could work. If Jacks doesn’t mention me, Doc won’t know I’m still alive. “Just don’t tell Doc that I’m here. Tell him something happened to Brenna, something that Ken will want to know about.”
“And Doc? Shouldn’t he look at her wound?”
I hesitate.
“What happened, anyway? It looks more savage than a normal bite.”
“I cut away the infected area.”
Jacks grimaces. “You cut off her fingers? Damn. I’m surprised she didn’t kill you. Just by reflex.” He shakes his head. “Doc’s got to see her.”
“But—”
“She could die, Amy.”
I look at Brenna. She’s trembling again, her clothes soaked through with sweat. When I place my hand on her face, her skin burns against mine. I wish I could help her myself, but I don’t know what to do.
“All right,” I say, reluctantly.
Jacks hurries from the room. Within minutes, he rushes back in the door, Doc trailing behind.
When Doc sees me, he blanches. Even with all that’s at stake with Brenna, I have to say, I take some satisfaction in his reaction. Clearly, he thought I’d be dead by now.
Doc composes himself and goes to Brenna’s side, unraveling the blood-soaked bandage from her hand. Jacks sucks in air at the sight of her missing fingers.
“It’s a clean cut,” Doc notes. “How did she lose them?”
“A knife,” I tell him. “I think it’s infected, though.”
“Yes . . .” He’s still staring at the wound and shaking his head as though something doesn’t make sense. Then his eyes snap to me. “Those fingers have been removed. This wasn’t from any knife fight or accident. The cuts are too precise.” When I don’t say anything, he presses. “I can’t help her if I don’t know what happened.”
“I had to take them off,” I explain, “but I did everything I could to sterili—”
“You took them off? Why on Earth—”
“I had to remove the site of the infection.”
“She’s infected because you—” He stops short, his eyes widening. “She’s been bitten, hasn’t she? How dare you bring her here! She must be removed at once. These rooms aren’t strong enough to hold a Florae.” His hand goes to his ear to make a call, but I slap it away.
“No! You don’t understand. You have to help her get better, then Ken needs to see her right away.” I don’t want to tell Doc anything, but how else am I going to get him to help Brenna, to call Ken? “She was bitten more than twenty-four hours ago.”
Doc looks at me dumbly, then studies Brenna.
“Are you certain?” he asks.
“I’ve been with her the whole time.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” he asks.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not exactly dying for her to turn into a Florae, am I?”
Doc glares at me distrustfully, then goes to the cabinet and takes out a tray with medical supplies. He takes a sample of Brenna’s blood, then hooks her up to an IV.
“These antibiotics should help. Jacks, go see when Brenna last received a booster shot.” Jacks nods and leaves the room.
I stare at Doc, who is doing a remarkable job of ignoring me. He takes more of Brenna’s blood, and I realize that I’m not scared. Even though he tried to kill me, even though I’m in an examination room, surrounded by medical supplies. Maybe my anger is overpowering my fear of the clinical setting. I’m not shaking. I don’t feel overwhelmed or unsettled. It’s about time I feel like my old self again.
“Why did you want me dead?” I ask pointedly. “Did you tell Dr. Reynolds I was here? Did he tell you to kill me?”
He doesn’t look at me, just nods. “The Warden and I talked it over. We thought telling New Hope the truth was the only way to salvage the situation. Dr. Reynolds now knows of your presence here. I was only trying to help,” he tells me, not bothering to look up at me, as if this is any kind of explanation.