Page 73 of Líadan's Code

“How are you feeling, old man?” I tease him while worrying that he’s going to go into shock before I can get him to the only doctor I actually trust right now.

Dr. Kurtz lives in a rundown area of Chicago, and has never worked for Seán. Before he moved to Chicago, he traveled around working in different hospitals until he landed here. I go to him whenever I’m shot, which happens on occasion.

Dr, Kurtz enjoys telling stories when I’m really drugged up about the time he spent in South Carolina specifically, and how even suburbia wasn’t without its faults. He also did one of Líadan’s surgeries because he has surgical privileges at a few of the hospitals.

Just because he won’t ask questions and doesn’t care about our criminal background, doesn’t mean he’s not a professional. Thank fuck for that, because Seán had no idea how to take care of another person.

Lía had already moved out when she was having crippling menstrual cramps, and Seán kept telling her suck it up.

The surgery was minor, but she had a cyst that was the cause of her major pain last year. Of course, I was a basketcase throughout it all, and we never told Seán that she even had surgery.

If he couldn’t be a good father to her, then he didn’t deserve knowledge about her wellbeing.

Lía and I rebelled in small ways, until we were able to overthrow his entire regime.

“Remember what I said about spankings,” Jordan complains as he walks further into the basement. “This is impressive.”

“They can’t hear us, and have no idea this is here,” I say, going to where my backup weapons and clothing are. “We bought the house from a doomsday prepper. This qualifies, I think.”

“A little dramatic, but I would say this is going to save our asses,” Jordan grunts. “Fuck, I’m bleeding like a stuck pig.”

“I’m afraid to remove the glass,” Lía says, moving around to look before she winces. “Shit. Okay, we’re grabbing what we need and then leaving.”

“Where are we going, sweet girl?” he asks, closing his eyes against the pain.

“Here are sneakers, Jordan. Since we’re headed to the subway, I have an oversized sweatshirt for you too,” I say, helping him into it once his intense hazel eyes open. They’re clouded with pain, which is difficult to see, since he handled being tortured better than this glass.

The muscles in his back shift as he pulls on the sweatshirt, and the sounds Jordan makes from the pain cause goosebumps to rise all over my body.

“Do not even think of bending over, shithead,” I growl, dropping to my knees to put on his shoes. “I’m so fucking pissed off at the state of your back. The window fucking exploded, but we had special glass put in because of how bad the storms can get here.”

“Everything is burning so hot, it has to do with their accelerant,” Jordan mutters as he shoves his feet into the shoes. “Thanks, I think if I had to put these on I’d probably have embarrassed myself with crocodile tears.”

“They’re only crocodile tears if they’re fake,” Lía says as she pulls on a sweatshirt. “The rest of the house is going to be destroyed, but the basement should be fine. This is all flame retardant, even against whatever they put in their shit. While we were planning to move eventually, this house was good to us.”

“Our first place together,” I say, standing, taking a moment to pull her into my arms and kiss her hard. “It’s a lot of change really fucking fast. It’s allowed to suck, Lía.”

“Well, it does,” she sighs. “They’re going to be waiting for us to come out or die. Since neither is going to happen, we need to go.”

Opening a trap door that opens down into the subway tunnels below us, she picks up the bag she’s been packing while I talked to Jordan and helped him.

“Grab a flashlight, and Jordan this ladder isn’t going to be very fun to go down?—”

“It’s fine, Princess. Hold onto my flashlight in your bag until I get to the bottom,” he interjects. “I’ll manage.”

“Okay, I’ll stop babying you,” Lía says, a smirk playing on her lips as she holds a smaller flashlight between her teeth before she climbs down the ladder.

“We’ll take the tunnels to a station, and then it’s a straight shot to Dr. Kurtz’s home,” I say, already shooting him a quick text. “He’s going to be able to numb you up and start the unpleasant process of getting all that glass out of you.”

“Sometimes I wish you’d both lie to me,” he mutters before Lía yells up for Jordan to climb down. She made sure to go down first so that she could have light for him, and not get taken out by him if he fell.

We’re logical if nothing else.

As soon as Jordan is down, I vaguely hear the sounds of an ax and sirens outside. The basement is so well insulated, it’s difficult to tell.

Bye, house. Thanks for being a port in the storm.

Beginning to climb down the ladder with my own backpack filled with weapons and snacks, because I’m still fucking hungry, I close the trap door behind me, where it melts back into the floor perfectly. You’d never even know it was there.

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