But okay. She could do that. Happiness and relief cut through her fear. He was here. Relief might have been a wonderful thing if her hands and shoulders weren’t stinging. The pain was actually increasing steadily. Oh, she had to have landed on something bad. Like glass.
“Victoria.” Gabe was crouching over her and she could see the muscles in his neck strain like he was shouting. Maybe he was. The whole world was a muted cacophony for her. His hands patted her down in a gentle but thorough progression over her entire body. This checking for injuries was becoming a thing between them. Maybe it wasn’t a good thing.
Maybe she was going to be hysterical.
Victoria was at their side, firing her weapon. “Covering. Go.”
Gabe’s mouth was set in a grim line as he grabbed Maylin by the wrist and pulled her to a sitting position, urging her to her feet. “We’re going to need medical. Have them meet me at the main cabin, stat.”
She tried. Honestly, she dug into her reserves and pulled up every contrary, stubborn moment in her life to drive herself to her feet. But nothing was working right. Everything throbbed, punctuated by piercing pain in random places. And a hot wetness was running from her ears down her jawline.
Gabe had her up, though, and he hoisted her over his shoulder. The jostling hurt more, blood rushing to her head as her view consisted of the ground and his feet running. She might throw up.
The world went black instead.
*
“You’re safe.” Gabe’s voice came clearer this time, but not by much. There was still cotton, or maybe dirt, clogging her ears.
Around her, people were rushing back and forth. There was an IV in her left arm and a man in fatigues was injecting something into the line leading to her. Beyond him, another man in fatigues was being led by. The skin up and down his arm and the side of his face darkened, burned.
“Here. Focus right here.” Gabe stepped into her line of sight. He caressed her cheek and she turned in to the caress, letting her eyes flutter closed as his thumb gently brushed across her skin.
“We’re giving her Toradol for the pain...” The stranger’s voice faded away.
*
It was a lot quieter when she woke up.
“Welcome back.” The voice was familiar but it wasn’t Gabe or Lizzy, not Victoria or Marc either.
Maylin inhaled and exhaled nice and slow, each breath clearing away more of the grogginess. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times before focusing on the slender man seated next to her.
“Caleb.”
He grinned. “Glad you recognize me.”
“I don’t know where I am, though.” The room looked something like the nurse’s office from high school. Not really, but it was the closest comparison she could think of with the curtain partitions around her stretcher partially open to reveal several similar beds. There were doors at either end of the long room but no one seemed to be walking by. A couple of curtains were drawn around stretchers at the other end of the row.
“You’re still on Centurion Corporation grounds.” Caleb stood and poured water into a tiny cup. He handed it to her carefully, making sure she had a good hold on it before he settled back into his chair. “Sip slow. If it stays down, we’ll see about getting you whatever chow the medics say you can try first.”
“Where’s Gabe?” She followed directions, the water cool against her lips and her dry throat. Since the initial sip seemed to go down fine, she took another then returned her attention to Caleb.
“Well, Diaz and the team are fine. Not a scratch on them.” Caleb waved a hand in the direction of the hallway. “You, on the other hand, look a lot worse than you are.”
“Thanks?” Most likely she’d regret asking for a mirror.
“You fell on broken glass.” Caleb eyed her, maybe to gauge how well she was reacting to the news.
“I remember. I jumped through a window.”
“Not recommended. We all try to avoid it if possible.”
“I can understand why.” But she wasn’t in pain, per se. Stiff, yes. And maybe there was a dull throb over most of her body.
“Most of the cuts were superficial. A couple are held closed with butterfly stitches, so don’t mess with those. One or two spots, we had to stitch closed after the glass was removed. When those itch, don’t mess with them either.” Caleb stood and refilled her little cup with more water. “How’s it staying down?”
“No nausea.” She pondered. “So if I start itching, you’re going to put a cone of shame on me?”
Caleb grinned. “Nah. But they make these mitts we can put over your hands to keep you from scratching.”
“I’ll pass, thank you.” And the conversation was starting to wear on her. It wasn’t that he wasn’t nice, and the banter was pretty light, but there was a nagging...something at the back of her mind.
“Everything sounds weird. Kind of hollow.” The words popped out.
“Yeah.” Caleb set the pitcher down. “About that. Nice distraction with the flash bang, but you were too close. You blew out your eardrums.”