Page 20 of Salvation
Chapter Seven
A labored hiss reached Sakura’s ears as she stepped through the door of Tokki’s bedroom. It was at least as large as her room, but the few pieces of makeshift Anferthian-sized furniture gave the room the illusion of being smaller. On the bed to the left, a form shifted with jerky movements beneath the blanket.
“Is she conscious?” Nick asked.
B’iha shook her head. “Tokki is beyond awareness. The disease consumes all of her attention now.”
It was hard to believe that the infected woman’s situation could get any worse, but there was no reason not to believe it would not. Sakura moved around to the far side of the narrow bed, which was more like a pallet. It made her over-sized, soft bed back at the cube seem like a luxury she did not deserve.
Like so many of the dissenters, the unconscious Anferthian woman was young—mid-thirties, by all appearances. Her pallor, though, was anything but healthy. No longer green but a sickly, mottled grey. Sakura’s stomach clenched. “Why is she strapped down?”
“For her safety,” B’iha said. “In the early days of the epidemic, many thrashed so hard they fell from their beds and sustained injuries.”
“Will it help your exam to have the straps removed?” K’rona asked.
“No, we can work around them,” Nick replied.
Tokki emitted a high-pitched moan, her back arching against the restraints. Her pain must be excruciating.
Nick set the bag on the floor between them. “Hands on exam first.”
Sakura gave him a nod and stepped back to give him room to perform the procedure.
“No. I mean together, Sakura.” Nick’s gaze pinned her in place while his gentle tone encouraged and supported her. “In tandem. You follow me in and back me up. I don’t want to risk missing anything.” His hands-on real time approach to mentoring her was unexpected, but not unwelcome.
Magister Dacian had taught her to do medical exams this way. Usually healers worked closely together for a while before partnering in this almost intimate way. It might be easier if she had worked with Nick previously and knew his natural Gift signature. But time sensitive situations did not come with that kind of luxury.
She gave her shoulders a couple of rolls, the crack of stiff muscles satisfying. This was what she had been born to do; heal people. She straightened her spine and stepped closer to Nick’s side. There was nothing more important than doing what was best for their patient. “All right. I am ready, Magister.”
Surprise flickered in Nick’s eyes, but he redirected his focus to K’rona and B’iha standing near the door. “This may take a few minutes. We’ll appear detached, but we will be talking together and able to answer your questions, if you have any.” He turned back to her. “Ready?”
As ready as she would ever be. She nodded her head and placed her hand next to his on Tokki’s arm so the sides of their hands touched just enough to get the job done. She allowed her eyelids to drift shut and drew on her Gift, allowing it to flow through her as the inner workings of Tokki’s body became visible to her.
Awareness of Nick’s Gift flitted alongside hers. His signature was…music? Most Gift signatures were associated with a natural, physical thing, or an element. Magister Dacian’s was clouds, Alex’s gentle, rolling waves on a beach. Even the Matiran students at the infirmary had their own signatures. But she had never heard of one being a sound.
“Let’s make a pass through the veins, arteries, and tissues, then we’ll look deeper at the organs,” Nick murmured.
The flow of information between them seemed effortless. Following Nick, she rechecked everything he checked, answered the questions they each came up with, and mentally noted the ones they could not. As they moved closer to the organs, their progress seemed to be impeded. Like wading through thick honey.
It was almost as if…. “Is the disease trying to eat her organs?” That was the closest she could come to describing what she “saw”.
“Seems more like it’s trying to breach a wall,” Nick muttered.
Yes, that was it. Eating would indicate that the organs were disappearing, but they were still there and whole. If anything, they seemed to be expanding now. Tokki’s body tensed as a distressed noise began deep inside and built until the woman released it, the long, shrill keen cutting through the air.
An icy tingle tickled Sakura’s fingertips, then began to creep up her fingers.
“Holy shit. Out, Saku. Now!” The knife-like edge to Nick’s voice left no room for questioning as his presence pulled away.
She reeled her own Gift back, jerked her hands back, and opened her eyes.
Tokki’s chest expanded farther than Sakura thought possible. Certainly farther than it would have to breathe or heave a sigh.
The warmth of Nick’s hand closing firmly around her bicep yanked her attention from the gruesome scene unfolding before her eyes. He tugged, and she had little choice but to take a couple of steps away from the bed. Not that she any objection. If Tokki’s body was about to explode, which seemed likely, putting even a few more feet between them was not a bad idea. No matter what Storo had said about containment. Nick’s face was sheet-white, and he seemed to be staring at the empty space where they had been standing a moment before, not at their patient.
Several dull pops emitted from Tokki’s abdomen. Her never-ending scream should have masked them as it continued unabated, but it did not. A violent shudder shook the sick woman, then her chest caved in on itself as her scream ended in a gurgle.
Sakura could only stare at the poor woman’s ravaged body. Tokki had just died, right in front of them, and they had been helpless to stop it.
