Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two (31 page)

“Thank you,” Tessa said, exhaling heavily.

“This will be quick and painless; I promise,” Collin said. “I’m just going to take a look at your eyes, okay?”

The timber of his voice had a calming effect, but it wasn’t enough to cool the flames of doubt that began rising in my chest. Collin clicked on his penlight and shone it into each of their faces. He was silent as he examined them, but the hard set to his jaw and the way he bit his lower lip spoke volumes. Riley watched his face closely. She’d tilt her head or narrow her eyes each time his expression changed. It looked as though she was eavesdropping on a private conversation. I moved to her side and slid my elbow through hers.

In the end, Eli and Christa were dismissed to the empty chairs along the wall while the rest of us held the original line. Collin stood in front of us with his arms crossed over his chest for a moment, then moved forward. Zander tensed and slid around in front of me, a nearly inaudible growl rumbling from his throat.

“Easy, kid. I just need to—.” Collin held his hands up, his gaze shifting to mine. “Could you humor me for a second?”

I nudged Zander gently with my elbow and nodded at Collin. Zander backed down, but the tightness in his shoulders said he wasn’t lowering his guard. Collin held out his hand to me and led me to the front of the line. When the doctor gestured for Zander to follow suit, he was at my side in a heartbeat.

“You too, son,” Collin waved Ty over.

“Umm, okay?” Ty shuffled forward reluctantly.

“I feel like I’m being picked last for kickball, here,” Jake said, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck.

“What’s going on?” Falisha took a step forward, her voice taking on a threatening edge. “Why the hell are you separating us?”

“Do we have the ring or not?” Jake asked.

“Those of you still standing do, yes,” Collin sighed. “This
ring
is actually called the Tapetum Lucidum, but—.”

“But what?” Jake asked.

“The tapetum lucidum response in human beings is generally quite weak,” Collin said. “The structure is present, but not individually identifiable to the naked eye. In fact, it would normally take a significant light source aimed at exactly the right angle to create the eye-shine phenomena.”

“You mean, like when you have red eyes in pictures?” Riley offered.

“Exactly like that,” Collin pointed at her with a smile. “The typical eye shine refraction for humans is red.”

“I assume that means ours are not typical,” Jake said crossing his arms.

“Far from it, son,” Collin’s brows narrowed. “Yours are silver.”

“Damn,” Falisha said, her mouth dropping open. “I didn’t even notice.”

“It’s barely visible in the three of you, but it’s definitely there.” Collin’s accent thickened as his thoughts wandered. “The color is absolutely mesmerizing—like the inside of a seashell or a swirling pool of mercury. I’ve never seen a visible a tapetum lucidum structure in a human being before, so I’m afraid this is uncharted territory.”

“Dr. Acer,” Jake cleared his throat, pulling the man from his monolog. He pointed in our direction. “What about Liv and the others? Why have you separated us?”

“Because your rings, while the same refractive color,” Collin said, “are maybe one-tenth the size of Zander and Ty’s.”

“Is that good or bad?” Ty asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Collin said.

“Can it be reversed?” Jake asked.

“I have no idea,” Collin said.

“Is there anything you do know?” Falisha said, crossing her arms.

“All I can tell you is that this ring appears to be indicative of exposure to whatever virus or infection it was that made Megan sick,” Collin said. “I think that the size of the structure depends on how the host was infected. Those with smaller rings, like three of you, appear to be asymptomatic. You were likely secondary hosts.”

“Of course,” Eli said shooting to his feet. “Liv, Zander, and Ty are bloodborne. All three of them were weakened by the pathogen. The others, the airbornes, must be carrying a dormant strain.”

“That makes sense,” Collin said.

“Collin?” I stepped forward. “What about me?”

“I have to admit I am afraid I am a bit baffled by you, Liv,” Collin sighed. “In addition to the obvious color differentiation, your eyes are not like that of your friends. I cannot seem to identify any visible distinction between the ring and the iris. In fact, the tapetum lucidum has completely encapsulated the iris, cornea, pupil, and lens. As far as I can tell, it is blocking all pertinent ocular structures.”

“What does that mean?” I took a step back as if any measurable distance could shield me from his words.

“It means you
should
be completely blind,” Collin said.

* * *

“Liv, we
have
to,” Riley whispered as she dipped a cloth into the washbasin. “It’s the right thing to do, and you know it.”

I wrung the last of the water from the ends of my hair into the “flush bucket” as we had been instructed. Tightening the towel that was wrapped around me, I made my way back over to the dressing area near the mirrors. A single lantern lit the room. The soft orange glow provided just enough light to navigate to the stalls and back.

“I’m not saying we don’t help them, okay?” I said. “I’m not a monster. I just don’t want to waste the one sure thing we have on a possibility, you know? We can just give them some of the other meds we snagged from the vet clinic. I am sure Collin can figure out another combination that will work.”

“Liv, Megan is a person, not a
possibility
,” Riley crossed her arms at me. “And thanks to your dumb luck, we already know the right combination. None of the meds we took from the clinic match. Besides, you saw her. That poor girl doesn’t have enough time left for Collin to experiment.”

“We only have enough for one, maybe two more doses, Ry,” I said. “What if one of us—”

“You saw her eyes, Liv. Megan
is
one of us.” Riley grabbed my arm and narrowed her eyes at me. “She’ll die without those meds. Tessa will be crushed.”

“I know, but—” I began.

“But, nothing. This is not the time to hoard miracles.” Riley shook her head at me. “So much of what has happened has been out of our control. It’s all just reactions to what is being thrown at us, but this? This is
our
decision, Liv. We could actually help this girl. We could
choose
to save her. It’s a simple question of willingness.”

“I’m sorry, but there is no such thing as simple anymore,” I sighed, gently peeling her slender fingers from my wrist. “Trust me, I’ve been playing it out over and over again in my mind, but it doesn’t matter what we do. There’s no right answer this time, Ry.”

“I know, Liv,” Riley said, turning her back to me. “Because there shouldn’t even be a question.”

She walked over to the bench where Christa sat tearing a brush through her tangled blond trusses and rifled through the pile of clothing we had gotten from Tessa’s people. She pulled a clean, pale green tee from the stack and held it up.

“Oh, yeah. I can definitely make this happen,” Riley smiled, turning to me. “Can I borrow your knife for a sec?”

“I guess,” I said. I scooped my blood-soaked shorts off the floor, dug the knife from the pocket, and held it out to her. “Be careful, though. It’s really sharp.”

“Shocker,” Riley rolled her eyes. She took the knife from my hand and carefully slid the blade open. “Who knew knives could be sharp?”

She made quick work of the massive t-shirt. She sliced off the sleeves, folded one in half, and slid it over her head, scooping her short hair back into the makeshift headband. She cut the remaining sleeve into strips of fabric and used them to gather the top of each shoulder into a thinner strap. Once she had them tied to her liking, she slid the t-shirt dress over her head and smoothed it into place over a pair of light gray leggings. I’ll be damned if she didn’t make it look good.

The clothing I had scavenged sat in a crumpled pile at my feet. A simple pair of faded denim capris, a plain gray tank top, and a long pair of white tube socks with black stripes around the top. My hat and knife holster were my only accessories. As usual, I hadn’t thought to consider my appearance.

“Are you kidding me, right now?” I shook my head at her. “How do you do that? I swear you could slap on a garbage bag, and it’d still look like Fashion Week in Milan.”

“Don’t hate, Liv,” Riley smirked, closed the blade on my knife, and handed it back to me. “Just put your hobo-gear on, and let’s go and eat.”

“Complexion aside, are you sure you two are not, like, legit related?” Christa asked, flinching when the wiry bristles of her brush snagged in her wet hair. “Seriously, though. You guys argue like you are actually sisters.”

“We
are
sisters,” Riley said as she spun on her heel and stalked toward the door. “That’s how I know Liv will do the right thing.”

The door fell softly into place behind Riley on a whisper of hydraulic hinges. I stared at it, willing her to pop her head back in so I could continue to argue my point.

“She’s really good at that,” Christa rose to her feet, tying a band around her braid and tossing it over her shoulder.

“Good at what?” I asked as I whipped my own wet hair up into a messy bun.

“Getting the last word,” Christa said.

“The best,” I nodded, reaching for my clothes.

I may not look as good as Riley did, but I felt more like myself than I had in days. Tessa had given us toothbrushes and toothpaste, a change of clothes, and even deodorant. By the time I’d changed, I felt almost human.

Two shimmery blue bands of light shined back at me from the mucky bathroom mirror. I inched closer to it, turning my head slowly to each side. No matter the angle, their strange reflective quality never waned. It was almost as if they had a light source of their own.

“You know, they only glow like that when it’s dark,” Christa said joining me by the mirror.

“Really?” I smiled at her.

“Totally,” she shrugged and turned to walk out of the door. “During the day, you can hardly even tell what a total freak you are.”

Chapter 27

Evolution and Ophthalmology

“This is the most amazing mac and cheese I have ever eaten. Like ever,” Ty said. He shoved another mouthful of the mushy orange noodles into his mouth and closed his eyes, humming happily as he chewed. When he finished, he reached for the box of apple juice that sat at his feet. “How crazy is it that Miss Rhiannon cooked this feast over tin cans and melted crayons? I just can’t wrap my mind ‘round it.”

“Shocker,” Eli muttered, elbowing Christa playfully. The two of them seemed to have formed an alliance over the last day or so. It was a bond based on crossed arms, constant complaints and condescension but a bond nonetheless.

“Want mine?” Zander asked, wrinkling his nose as he pushed his apple juice at me.

I wasn’t about to argue. I downed the small juice box in a matter of seconds, moaning softly as the sweet liquid rolled over my parched tongue. I had already emptied the one I had been given and an entire bottle of water, but I couldn’t seem to get my fill.

“
Coffeeeeee
,” Riley moaned, her small hands wrapped tightly around a steaming paper cup. How she could stomach the hot liquid when it was well over one hundred degrees was beyond me. “Tessa, thank you
so
much for this.”

“You got it, hun,” Tessa raised her paper cup and nodded, then downed the last of its contents.

After nearly a week of granola bars, potato chips, and processed sugars, the imitation cheese, and coagulated noodles really hit the spot. I closed my eyes as I chewed the last bite from my bowl, savoring the taste along with the memories that came flooding back.

When I was growing up, our family used to have macaroni and cheese every Monday night for dinner. It was a silly tradition, I suppose, but it was one that I missed dearly.

My mom had worked as an ICU nurse at Mercy Medical Center since before I was even born. She was damn good at what she did, and everyone at the hospital loved her. As was the case with most nurses, my mom’s schedule was, at best, unpredictable. She was always on-call. Over the years, she’d missed birthdays, holidays, and even my eighth-grade graduation because of her job.

Sometimes, she’d be gone for days at a time. She would come home in the middle of the night and stumble off to bed exhausted. She spent countless hours on her feet. My mom worked hard and rarely took a break. Her time at the hospital was grueling, and she spent most of it running from room to room, saving lives or watching them slip away. As difficult as that must have been, my mom loved what she did.

She always said she went where she was needed—that lives depended on her diligence. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. The weight of it all must have been so overwhelming. She never complained or refused when she was called in to cover a shift or work an emergency…with one exception. Mac-n-Cheese Mondays were off limits.

Between the hours of five and seven, every Monday evening, my mother was unreachable. She would rush in the door, change out of her scrubs, and turn off her phone. For two hours a week, there were no I.V. alarms or patients begging for ice, no crying babies or code blues, and the only demanding family members she had to contend with were her own.

Mom would crank up the oldies on the radio that sat next to our microwave, and the four of us would spend the entire time catching up on the past week’s events, laughing, and making a complete mess of the kitchen—or as Mom liked to call it, Chez Macaroni. When I was younger, I was responsible for making the mushy, orange mess. I’d stand on the stool in the ugly red-checked apron and puffy white chef’s hat my mom had saved from one of her old Halloween costumes and, together, she and I would make magic.