SOJOURNER (III): tmr gally

We should find out what's going on

Leo Short

She is still sweating, and my eyes are getting tired from the weight of forcing them open for hours and hours. I need to observe the flush of her cheeks and the rise and fall of her chest. They're rhythmic now, but any moment her symptoms could fluctuate, and she could have another seizure, and another, and another. It's been two today already.

Now, her cheeks are turning red, though the rest of her skin is pale. She stops swallowing, a motion she has been doing ever second, as spit wells in her mouth.

Despite this exhaustion impeding my ability to do my own basic medical duties, I don't dare let anyone else take of Ella. Not that I think they will hurt her by intention, but by omission.

"What are you doing?" Harriet asks me, as I roll Ella up onto her side.

I rub her back at the base of her spine, and she leans over the bed, throwing up on the floor.

"That's stuck," Marie mutters. I get the feeling she is their med-jack, since she is the only one besides Sonya and Harriet allowed in here. "It smells like a load."

"Thanks for your insight," Harriet rolls her eyes. "Go get something to clean it up."

Marie glares at her, before ducking out of the room. The door closes shut behind her, the sound echoing off the walls.

Harriet's scowl doesn't disappear. At least, not entirely.

Sonya leans down next to me. Delicately, she places a hand on my shoulder, and takes Ella's fingers with the other. She has the gentle touch of a Med-jack but she lacks all of the necessary medical knowledge to be one. "She'll be fine." It's more of a reassuring suggestion than a medical opinion.

I mean, this is the first time in a while that Ella has stopped screaming. Her throat is hollow, and she shakes. Every time her mouth opens, I expect her to screech. I expect the sound to tear apart the air, to freeze my feet and turn my fingers numb. Since she hasn't screamed, I bet she's lost her voice.

"She's not your first?" Harriet asks, glancing me over. Her shoulders seem to relax as I take care of the unconscious girl before me.

I shake my head, before turning my attention back to her. Ella is the fourth.

"I took care of Thomas most recently," I say, even though he tastes bitter on my tongue. I don't like the idea of him. I still am not sure what to believe. I doubt Teresa would lie. She is too kind to do that, and means to well. At the same time, I know Thomas. Maybe it's not that I can't believe her, but that I don't want to. Both options seem equally awful to me.

"You trust Teresa?" Harriet raises an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. Her face is blank, and I wonder if she is asking me the question because she has made up her own mind already, and wants to see if I agree. Everything could be a test with this girl.

Sonya leans forward and brushes a stray hair on Ella's head backwards.

I turn to look at Harriet. "Teresa means well. She helped save our lives, just like Thomas. I get that she looks kind if like a shank, but she's a good person. You know the Glade; it's difficult to live in."

"We still are living it," Sonya offers, a shadow of a smile on her face. Eventually, the shadow takes over, and her eyes drop to the floor. She absentmindedly brushes blonde hair out of her face.