The Host (56 page)

I kept up an easy rolling pace as I walked to the open end of the truck. But my breathing sped up. This felt more dangerous than the hospital, and that worried me. Could I expect my humans to risk their lives this way?

I'll be there. I'll do it myself, just like you would. On the off chance you get your way, that is.

Thanks, Mel.

I had to force myself not to keep glancing over my shoulder at the open hatch where the man had disappeared. I placed the tank gently atop the closest column in the truck. The addition, one among hundreds, was not noticeable.

“Goodbye,” I whispered. “Better luck with your next host.”

I walked back to the van as slowly as I could stand to.

It was silent in the van as I reversed out from under the big ship. I started back the way we'd come, my heart hammering too fast. In my mirrors, the hatch remained empty. I didn't see the man emerge before the ship was out of sight.

Ian climbed into the passenger seat. “Doesn't look too hard.”

“It was very good luck with the timing. You might have to wait longer for an opportunity next time.”

Ian reached over to take my hand. “You're the good-luck charm.” I didn't answer.

“Do you feel better now that she's safe?”

“Yes.”

I saw his head turn sharply as he heard the unexpected sound of a lie in my voice. I didn't meet his gaze.

“Let's go catch some Healers,” I muttered.

Ian was silent and thoughtful as we drove the short distance to the small Healing facility.

I'd thought the second task would be the challenge, the danger. The plan was that I would–if the conditions and numbers were right–try to lead a Healer or two out of the facility under the pretext that I had an injured friend in my van. An old trick, but one that would work only too well on the unsuspecting, trusting Healers.

As it turned out, I didn't even have to go in. I pulled into the lot just as two middle-aged Healers, a man and a woman wearing purple scrubs, were getting into a car. Their shift over, they were heading home. The car was around the corner from the entrance. No one else was in sight.

Ian nodded tensely.

I stopped the van right behind their car. They looked up, surprised.

I opened my door and slid out. My voice was thick with tears, my face twisted with remorse, and that helped to fool them.

“My friend is in the back–I don't know what's wrong with him.” They responded with the instant concern I knew they would show. I hurried to open the back doors for them, and they followed right behind. Ian went around the other side. Jared was ready with the chloroform.

I didn't watch.

It took just seconds. Jared hauled the unconscious bodies into the back, and Ian slammed the doors shut. Ian stared at my tear-swollen eyes for just a second, then took the driver's seat.

I rode shotgun. He held my hand again.

“Sorry, Wanda. I know this is hard for you.”

“Yes.” He had no idea how hard, and for how many different reasons.

He squeezed my fingers. “But that went well, at least. You make an excellent charm.” Too well. Both missions had gone too perfectly, too fast. Fate was rushing me.

He drove back toward the freeway. After a few minutes, I saw a bright, familiar sign in the distance. I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes clear.

“Ian, could you do me a favor?”

“Anything you want.”

“I want fast food.”

He laughed. “No problem.”

We switched seats in the parking lot, and I drove up to the ordering box.

“What do you want?” I asked Ian.

“Nothing. I'm getting a kick out of watching you do something for yourself. This has to be a first.”

I didn't smile at his joke. To me, this was sort of a last meal–the final gift to the condemned. I wouldn't leave the caves again.

“Jared, how about you?”

“Two of whatever you're having.”

So I ordered three cheeseburgers, three bags of fries, and three strawberry shakes.

After I got my food, Ian and I switched again so I could eat while he drove.

“Eew,” he said, watching me dip a french fry into the shake.

“You should try it. It's good.” I offered him a well-coated fry.

He shrugged and took it. He popped it into his mouth and chewed. “Interesting.” I laughed. “Melanie thinks it's gross, too.” That's why I'd cultivated the habit in the beginning.

It was funny now to think how I'd gone out of my way to annoy her.

I wasn't really hungry. I'd just wanted some of the flavors I particularly remembered, one more time. Ian finished off half my burger when I was full.

We made it home without incident. We saw no sign of the Seekers' surveillance. Perhaps they'd accepted the coincidence. Maybe they thought it inevitable–wander the desert alone long enough, and something bad would happen to you. We'd had a saying like that on the Mists Planet: Cross too many ice fields alone, and wind up a claw beast's meal. That was a rough translation. It sounded better in Bear.

There was a large reception waiting for us.

I smiled halfheartedly at my friends: Trudy, Geoffrey, Heath, and Heidi. My true friends were dwindling. No Walter, no Wes. I didn't know where Lily was. This made me sad. Maybe I didn't want to live on this sad planet with so much death. Maybe nothingness was better.

It also made me sad, petty as it was, to see Lucina standing beside Lacey, with Reid and Violetta on the other side. They were talking animatedly, asking questions, it looked like. Lacey was holding Freedom on her hip. He didn't look especially thrilled about this, but he was happy enough being part of the adults' conversation that he didn't squirm down.

I'd never been allowed near the child, but Lacey was already one of them. Trusted.

We went straight to the south tunnel, Jared and Ian laboring under the weight of the Healers.

Ian had the heavier one, the man, and sweat ran down his fair face. Jeb shooed the others back at the tunnel entrance and then followed us.

Doc was waiting for us in the hospital, rubbing his hands together absently, as if washing them.

Time continued to speed up. The brighter lamp was lit. The Healers were given No Pain and laid out facedown on the cots. Jared showed Ian how to activate the tanks. They held them ready, Ian wincing at the stunning cold. Doc stood over the female, scalpel in hand and medicines laid out in a row.

“Wanda?” he asked.

My heart squeezed inward painfully. “Do you swear, Doc?
All
of my terms? Do you promise me on your own life?”

“I do. I will meet all of your terms, Wanda. I swear it.”

“Jared?”

“Yes. Absolutely no killing, ever.”

“Ian?”

“I'll protect them with my own life, Wanda.”

“Jeb?”

“It's my house. Anyone who can't abide by this agreement will have to get out.” I nodded, tears in my eyes. “Okay, then. Let's get it over with.” Doc, excited again, cut into the Healer until he could see the silver gleam. He set the scalpel quickly aside. “Now what?”

I put my hand on his.

“Trace up the back ridge. Can you feel that? Feel the shape of the segments. They get smaller toward the anterior section. Okay, at the end you should feel three small… stubby things. Do you feel what I'm talking about?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Good. Those are the anterior antennae. Start there. Now, very gently, roll your finger under the body. Find the line of attachments. They'll feel tight, like wires.” He nodded.

I guided him a third of the way down, told him how to count if he wasn't sure. We didn't have time for counting with all the blood flowing free. I was sure the Healer's body, if she came around, would be able to help us–there must be something for that. I helped him find the biggest nodule.

“Now, rub softly in toward the body. Knead it lightly.”

Doc's voice went up in pitch, turned a little panicky. “It's moving.”

“That's good–it means you're doing it right. Give it time to retract. Wait till it rolls up a bit, then take it into your hand.”

“Okay.” His voice shook.

I reached toward Ian. “Give me your hand.”

I felt Ian's hand wind around mine. I turned it over, curled his hand into a cup, and pulled it close to Doc's operation site.

“Give the soul to Ian–gently, please.”

Ian would be the perfect assistant. When I was gone, who else would take such care with my little relatives?

Doc passed the soul into Ian's waiting hand, then turned at once to heal the human body.

Ian stared at the silver ribbon in his hand, his face full of wonder rather than revulsion. It felt warmer inside my chest while I watched his reaction.

“It's pretty,” he whispered, surprised. No matter how he felt about me, he'd been conditioned to expect a parasite, a centipede, a monster. Cleaning up severed bodies had not prepared him for the beauty here.

“I think so, too. Let it slide into your tank.”

Ian held the soul cupped in his hand for one more second, as if memorizing the sight and feel.

Then, with delicate care, he let it glide into the cold.

Jared showed him how to latch the lid.

A weight fell off my shoulders.

It was done. It was too late to change my mind. This didn't feel as horrible as I'd anticipated, because I felt sure these four humans would care for the souls just as I would. When I was gone.

“Look out!” Jeb suddenly shouted. The gun came up in his hands, pointed past us.

We whirled toward the danger, and Jared's tank fell to the floor as he jumped toward the male Healer, who was on his knees on the cot, staring at us in shock. Ian had the presence of mind to hold on to his tank.

“Chloroform,” Jared shouted as he tackled the Healer, pinning him back down to the cot. But it was too late.

The Healer stared straight at me, his face childlike in his bewilderment. I knew why his eyes were on me–the lantern's rays danced off both his eyes and mine, making diamond patterns on the wall.

“Why?” he asked me.

Then his face went blank, and his body slumped, unresisting, to the cot. Two trails of blood flowed from his nostrils.

“No!”
I screamed, lurching to his inert form, knowing it was far too late. “No!” CHAPTER 54

Forgotten

Elizabeth?” I asked. “Anne? Karen? What's your name? C'mon. I know you know it.” The Healer's body was still limp on the cot. It had been a long time–how long, I wasn't sure.

Hours and hours. I hadn't slept yet, though the sun was far up in the sky. Doc had climbed out onto the mountain to pull the tarps away, and the sun beamed brightly through the holes in the ceiling, hot on my skin. I'd moved the nameless woman so that her face would be out of the glare.

I touched her face now lightly, patting the soft brown hair, woven through with white strands, away from her face.

“Julie? Brittany? Angela? Patricia? Am I getting close? Talk to me. Please?” Everyone but Doc–snoring quietly on a cot in the darkest corner of the hospital–had gone away hours ago. Some to bury the host body we'd lost. I cringed, thinking of his bewildered question, and the sudden way his face had gone slack.

Why?
he'd asked me.

I so much wished that the soul had waited for an answer, so I could have tried to explain it to him. He might even have understood. After all, what was more important, in the end, than love?

To a soul, wasn't that the heart of everything? And love would have been my answer.

Maybe, if he'd waited, he would have seen the truth of that. If he'd really understood, I was sure he would have let the human body live.

The request would probably have made little sense to him, though. The body was
his
body, not a separate entity. His suicide was simply that to him, not a murder, too. Only one life had ended.

And perhaps he was right.

At least the souls had survived. The light on his tank glowed dull red beside hers; I couldn't ask for a greater evidence of commitment from my humans than this, the sparing of his life.

“Mary? Margaret? Susan? Jill?”

Though Doc slept and I was otherwise alone, I could feel the echo of the tension the others had left behind; it still hung in the air.

The tension lingered because the woman had not woken up when the chloroform wore off. She had not moved. She was still breathing, her heart was still beating, but she had not responded to any of Doc's efforts to revive her.

Was it too late? Was she lost? Was she already gone? Just as dead as the male body?

Were all of them? Were there only a very few, like the Seeker's host, Lacey, and Melanie–the shouters, the resisters–who could be brought back? Was everyone else gone?

Was Lacey an anomaly? Would Melanie come back the way she had… or was even that in question?

I'm not lost. I'm here.
But Mel's mental voice was defensive. She worried, too.

Yes, you are here. And you will stay here,
I promised.

With a sigh, I returned to my efforts. My doomed efforts?

“I know you have a name,” I told the woman. “Is it Rebecca? Alexandra? Olivia? Something simpler, maybe… Jane? Jean? Joan?”

It was better than nothing, I thought glumly. At least I'd given them a way to help themselves if they were ever taken. I could help the resisters, if no one else.

It didn't seem like enough.

“You're not giving me much to work with,” I murmured. I took her hand in both of mine, chafed it softly. “It would really be nice if you would make an effort. My friends are going to be depressed enough. They could use some good news. Besides, with Kyle still gone… It will be hard to evacuate everyone without having to carry you around, too. I know you want to help.

This is your family here, you know. These are your kind. They're very nice. Most of them. You'll like them.”

The gently lined face was vacant with unconsciousness. She was quite pretty in an inconspicuous way–her features very symmetrical on her oval face. Forty-five, maybe a little younger, maybe a little older. It was hard to tell with no animation in the face.

“They need you,” I went on, pleading now. “You can help them. You know so much that I never knew. Doc tries so hard. He deserves some help. He's a good man. You've been a Healer for a while now; some of that care for the well-being of others must have rubbed off on you.