The Free City

Chapter Thirty-Three : Scars

I'd never been in a hospital before. I'd been hurt plenty of times, but the hospital in Carson City was for regular, nonSuper people. If a Super got hurt, an annoyed doctor would eventually show up to the school and treat us. Even my surgery had been done in an emptied out storage room on campus.

It smelled weird. Like chemicals. But clean, and not at all like blood, which was what I expected it to smell like.

Sam and I sat in a hallway, waiting. We didn't speak, although I felt like I had a lot to tell him. A lot to say. But nothing came out, and he didn't say anything, either. So we sat in silence. But when I put my hand on the armrest of my chair, he put his over mine for a moment. And when we looked at each other, I recognized in him the same thing I felt; we were glad to see the other alive and well. We hadn't had a chance to express that relief, but we felt it, and that was important.

And we were both worried sick about Kole, who was being treated for electrical burns, among other things. I'd heard words like seizures, and heart stopped, and alarming things like that. But we hadn't heard anything in a while. Sam wanted to track someone down for answers, but there was no one to ask.

The doctors and nurses and Mrs. Hornbill were swamped with Supers needing medical attention. Not only ours from Johnson City, but the newly freed Supers from Lonesome City, who were all dealing with effects of near-starvation and exhaustion. Apparently, being under Khan's control made them so obsessed with his will that they rarely ate or slept. On top of that, they were all injured, because they fought like zealots who had nothing to live for.

And Jason wasn't the only one on death's door. From what I'd been able to glean by listening to the faint voices coming from either end of the hallway or other patient rooms, Zuri had finally run out of energy, and Hank had started draining volunteers to power Mrs. Hornbill's healing work.

I jumped out of my skin when the door beside my chair opened in a hurry. Sam sprang to his feet to face the tired, harried doctor.

"Can we see him?"

"He's stable enough for visitors, yes. Don't touch him. Don't let him get up. Don-"

Sam and I pushed past the doctor. I pulled up short.

But Sam didn't hesitate, and went straight to Kole's bedside.

He looked like he'd been through hell. Stark, vivid red lightning marks crawled from his forhead, across his cheek, to his chin. The bed was propped up, and the blankets had fallen to his waist, revealing more of the scars arching across his chest and down his arms. The blood-red lines branched like veins and spread out to cover most of his visible skin. I remembered getting my own lightning-marks after my brush with an electrokinetic, but they'd been light in comparison. Mine had faded, like bruises, until they were gone. But Kole's skin was so clearly marked that it looked nearly melted in those places. How long had he been shocked? How many times? Would the scars ever fade?

He looked weakened. Vulnerable. And that was so antithetical to who he was that it set me off balance. I walked closer more slowly than Sam had. Kole's eyes, when they settled on me, were bloodshot and there were deep bags under them. Even as I watched, he clenched his fists and jaw in a spasm of pain, then relaxed again as it eased.

"Did they give you any painkillers?" Sam asked, concerned. His hands fluttered in the air over Kole's body, as if he wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but couldn't.

Kole shook his head gingerly. "No. It would make me sleep. I needed to -" His voice was rough and cracked and dry, and he couldn't finish without coughing and hacking as if even the inside of his throat had been burned.