Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two (39 page)

“And they’re not alone,” Jake added pulling me toward the gathering crowd.

“Excuse me,” I muttered as I tried to shove my way through the wall of curious onlookers.

Whispers mixed with shouts as the residents of Carousel F worked themselves into a frenzy near the escalators. Keith was doing the best he could with crowd control, but his handy-dandy clipboard was far from a magic wand. It did little to stifle their fervent inquisition.

“Okay, back up, everyone,” Keith shouted at them. “Just let them breathe.”

“Who is that with you, Ballard?”

“Great,” said one of the women who’d wandered over from the kitchen. “Another mouth to feed.”

“What happened to his face?” a girl whispered to her mother.

“Riley, go and get Collin and Zander,” I whispered as an odd weight settled in my belly. “
Now
.”

She nodded grimly and took off running.

“Is he from the camp, Vic?” The girl I’d seen reading on the escalator earlier spoke up.

“Yes. Now, please, stand aside,” Ballard said, trying to placate the horde so he could wedge his way through it.

Unfortunately, he’d only managed to add fuel to the fire. The carousel erupted. People began pushing and shoving, desperate to be heard over the choir of questions flying through the air. Before her death, Vivienne had planted seeds of doubt throughout carousel F. Thanks to the bloodshed of the last few hours; those seeds had taken root and begun to spread. People were scared.

“Can we go there?” Someone yelled.

“Yes. Is it safe?” a woman asked. “Why are the soldiers—?”

“What did you see?” asked a stocky man in a green football jersey.

“Back up, y’all,” Ty said as the people surged toward him and his charge.

“Out of my way. Move!” The jersey guy pushed through the line and got in Ballard’s face. “Hold up, there, Vic. Not so fast.”

“Let us through, Ethan,” Ballard said, sidestepping him.

“Uh-uh, not happening.” The man shifted with him and poked Ballard in the chest with his thick finger. “You aren’t going anywhere until we get some answers.”

“Step aside, please,” Ballard said squaring his shoulders.

Ty was behind him, half-carrying someone who clearly needed it. Besides a pair of gray cotton pants and a measured gate, I couldn’t make out much beneath the thin navy blue airport security slicker Ballard had thrown over him. His face was completely hidden in the shadows of its massive hood.

“Come on y’all, this fella’s hurtin’ pretty bad,” Ty said hefting the hooded figure slumped at his side. “He needs to see Dr. Acer.”

“And
we
really need to get the hell out of this damn airport,” Ethan said. “Your new charity case can wait.”

“Move, Ethan,” Ballard palmed his holster and stepped closer to the man in the jersey. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

“You gonna shoot me, Ballard?” He laughed just inches from Ballard’s face. “You probably don’t even know how to work that little pellet gun, do you?”

“You really want to find out?” Ballard’s jaw clenched.

“Alright, now, ain’t none of this ruckus is necessary,” Ty said, doing his best to sound calm. “I know y’all have questions—”

“Then maybe you should start answering them,” another guy shouted, muscling in next to Ethan. “Unless you got something to hide, that is.”

“Is that it?” Ethan glared at Ballard. “You hiding something, boy?”

“People, please,” Keith raised his voice. “This man is badly injured and needs medical assistance.”

“Let them through,” I said.

“Not one of
us
. Not our problem.” Ethan glared down his nose at me. “I think it’s high time we stopped taking in strays and start taking care of our own.”

A chorus of muttered agreements rang out through the carousel as more of the residents closed ranks. I understood the need to protect your people more than most, but I knew in my gut that this man was not a threat. By the looks of it, he could barely hold himself upright, let alone mount any kind of attack. I slid my fingers into my mouth and shattered the noisy protest with a shrill whistle. Bella barked her agreement from across the room, and the carousel fell silent.

“That’s enough,” I said squaring up against a man twice my size. “You need to stand down. Tessa is—”

“Tessa isn’t here, right now, is she?” Ethan wheeled on me and took a step closer, jabbing a finger in my face. “Sorry, little girl, but you have no authority here. Hell, you wouldn’t even be here if she hadn’t dumped you in our laps.”

“Looks like we have something in common, then,” I said not backing down.

“I don’t think so. You and your pack of mutts don’t belong here any more than that freak.” Ethan jerked his head to the side with a sneer. “Viv was right. Tessa had no right bringing you here.”

“You need to back off,” Ballard gripped his sidearm as he slid next to me.

“You gonna make me?” Ethan puffed out his chest.

“Hey, we just want to know what’s going on at that camp.” Ethan’s friend pointed to the young man huddled beneath Ty’s arm. “He’s been there.”

“Exactly,” Ethan smirked. “You tell us what we want to know, and you get to see the doc. How about that?”

“Payment for services rendered,” his friend said.

“Good one, Tanner,” Ethan smiled.

“This ain’t right, y’all,” Ty protested as he struggled to hold the young man up. “He’s in real bad shape.”

“That place.” The broken shadow hunched at Ty’s side hobbled forward. He tugged weakly at his hood, dropping the jacket to the floor. “It’s…a lie.”

“Oh, my God,” I said, my heart dropping to my feet.

His head was completely bald, and his skin was yellow-gray and sallow. Half of his face was covered in black skin. The rest was battered and bloody. A large metal barb jutted out from his temple. There was another just behind his ear and two more on either side of his chest, a couple of inches below his collarbone. He had a massive wound on his shoulder that was caked with dirt and detritus. Small shards of wood and rock were embedded in his flesh. Blood seeped from each of the entry wounds, dripping onto the floor at his feet.

“Help themm,” he slurred, swaying on his feet.

Ethan covered his mouth with his shirt and took a massive step back. His eyes went wide in horror. Suddenly he had nothing to say. None of them did.

“Alright, everyone step aside,” Zander said, plowing aside the dumbstruck crowd so Collin and Riley could get through.

“Liv, we’re—” Riley stopped dead in her tracks, squinting at the wavering mess before her. “Micah?”

“Hey…babe.” He smiled wanly, his mismatched eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in a heap at Riley’s feet.

Chapter 35

Broken

“Lay him down there, across the seats,” Collin said, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. “Devon, grab the red bag. Victor, go and tell Squints we are going to need the big solar light. Hurry!”

“On it.” Ballard spun on his heel and took off across the carousel.

Ty and Zander gently lowered Micah across the flat bank of seating at the center of the infirmary area. Riley grabbed my hand and dragged me closer to Micah’s side. Jake and Falisha crowded in next to us, their eyes wide in shock.

“I can’t believe he’s really here,” Riley whispered, clutching my arm. Fear and confusion twisted her face. “I was sure I’d never see him again.”

“That makes two of us,” I said, guilt rising in my throat.

Megan, who just minutes ago had been freed from her IV leash, lingered at the edge of the pack watching intently. Devon returned quickly and dropped a small red tool bag onto the floor at Collin’s feet, then handed him a stack of blue hand towels.

“Thank you,” Collin said, sifting through the supplies.

He pulled out a bottle of distilled water, a container of alcohol, a pair of scissors, and a small stick wrapped in white paper. He tore open the package and waved it under Micah’s nose. His swollen face tensed for a moment but immediately went slack. Collin tried again but got no reaction.

“Damn.” The doctor’s brow furrowed.

“What was that?” Falisha asked.

“Smelling salts,” Megan said. “If that didn’t wake him up, he’s in trouble.”

“Zander, I need you to tilt his head back, please,” Collin said as he worked to cut the clothing from Micah’s limp body. “His breathing is a bit strained for my liking. We need to make sure his airway stays open.”

Zander reached over the chair awkwardly and tilted his cousin’s chin in the air. “Like this?”

“Jeez, are you trying to paralyze him?” Megan rushed over and shoved Zander’s hands aside.

She crouched on the floor near Micah’s head, slid her hands beneath his neck, and gently tipped his head toward her. Her slender fingers linked at the base of his skull and her thumbs cradled his jaw, keeping his mouth open. The rattling in his throat immediately softened, though it was clear he was still struggling.

She leaned her ear over his mouth and closed her eyes, adjusting the angle of his neck until the wheezing had all but subsided. When she opened her eyes again, she realized everyone in the room was fixated on her, and her entire demeanor changed.

“Don’t look so shocked.” Megan rolled her eyes.

“Where did you learn that?” I asked her.

“I spent two annoying summers lifeguarding at the park. I only did it because my mom and dad are always—” Megan averted her eyes and swallowed hard. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter, now.”

There’s a certain kind of quiet that accompanies profound loss. It was a vacuum that each of us had grown to understand. The emptiness was not meant to be filled. Sometimes silence is the only way to honor the dark space that exists between two broken heartbeats.

So, we let it be.

“What the hell happened to him out there?” Zander fumed, raking his fingers through his hair as he paced. “Ty, did he tell you anything?”

“Not much,” Ty shook his head. “He just said some doctor-lady did this to him. He just kept saying,
help them. Help them
.”

Ballard returned with the solar light just as Collin finally managed to slice his way through the last of Micah’s hoodie. Ballard held the light up on his shoulder, aimed it down at Micah, and flicked the switch. The light flickered to life, bathing Micah’s battered form in a stark white glow.

“Holy hell,” Collin gasped, dropping the soiled fabric to the floor.

“Whoa,” Megan said with a scowl. “Poor guy looks thrashed.”

“Oh, Micah,” Riley gasped. Her hand shot to her mouth.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, young man,” Collin said solemnly, patting Micah’s hand.

His expression was grim as he uncapped the bottle of purified water and slowly dumped its contents across Micah’s face and chest. Nearly every inch of skin that wasn’t blackened with disease was caked in dried blood and muck. Swampy fluid rolled over his broken body, rinsing away the last vestiges of his protective shell. Collin muttered curses under his breath, gently wiping away the filth with one of the towels. As the layers of dirt disappeared, the evidence of the torment Micah had endured over the last few days became painfully obvious.

The virus had taken a greater physical toll on Micah than it had the rest of us. Blackened, reptilian-looking flesh rolled across one side of his body from his hairline to his hip where it disappeared beneath the waistband of his tattered jeans. Beneath his fallen lids were two mismatched eyes. One was a silver-gray, the other was black as night. The way the GRS virus had manifested in Micah was terrifying, but it wasn’t the side effects of the disease that drew my breath. It was massive wound on his shoulder and the garish, boot-shaped bruises across his ribcage. Deep, horizontal slashes laddered his skin at one-inch intervals from his jawline to his heart. Each cut was deeper than the last. Some of the injuries were days old, others were fresh enough that they still bled. Not one of them had been treated.

The metal probes jutted from his head and chest like the studded half of an over-sized snap. The tips were rounded and capped in some kind of clear resin with a small filament at the center. When Collin touched the knob embedded in Micah’s temple, it sparked.

“Ouch,” Collin jerked his hand back and ripped off the glove. The latex had melted clean through, leaving a welt on Collin’s fingertip.

“Jesus.” Zander clasped his fingers behind his head and frowned.

Undaunted, Collin snapped on a new glove and set back to work. With a damp towel, he wiped most of the blood from Micah’s hands, and then pushed down on each of his fingernails. The slightest compression drained them of their color for a moment. Then, the yellowish hue returned.

“Hmm,” Collin said applying firm pressure to the darkened flesh on the side of Micah’s face. “Normal elasticity. I hadn’t expected that. Dim the light for a moment, would you Victor?”

Ballard nodded, turning a dial on the side of the device while Collin dug a penlight from his front pocket. He carefully forced Micah’s left eye open and shined the light directly into it. The ring around Micah’s iris flashed a radiant silver, expanding inward until his pupil was but a pinpoint of darkness. It glowed softly on its own, holding onto the light even after Collin turned it away. He did the same test on the other side, but the blackened orb was little more than a puddle under a porch light. It could bend the light, but could not absorb it.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” Riley asked, clutching my arm tightly.

“That’s what I am trying to figure out,” Collin said, donning his stethoscope.

He pressed it to Micah’s chest, cautiously avoiding the metal probes. He slid the bell back and forth and listened intently for some time before slinging the silicon stem back over his neck. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“What is it, doc?” Zander gripped the back of the chair back and scowled.

“I need to check something,” Collin said, grimly. “I want you and Ty to hold him down for me, just in case.”