Fury and Flame | 3

7 | 0

A R L O

      I was prepared to die.

That's what I told myself when Gigi, Finn and I walked across an atrium in the ONNT headquarters between the office buildings and the scientific and health center.

      The sun was out for once, and its warm rays prickled my feverish skin. All I could hear was...everything. Bird wings flapping high overhead, the steady breathing from my teammates' chests, the footsteps of a hundred scientists in the building before us. By now, I was very used to being overloaded with sensory input, but my apprehension for today's procedure was magnifying it.

I would never admit it, but having Finn and Gigi here was the only thing giving me enough courage to go in there and subject myself to the doctors. Since my last visit, I had gotten blessedly used to not being around the sterilized equipment and needles. Going back was...difficult. I didn't know why. I wasn't scared, per se. Doctors did make me uneasy—they always had, all through my childhood. But it wasn't fear that swam in my veins as the automatic doors of the medical facility swung open.

The feeling was something like...finality. This was the day I would either be healed or be handed a death sentence—for I knew I didn't have many days left to try more than one treatment. I could feel it in my weakening bones: I was on death's doorstep. No, scratch that. By now, I was inside death's house, flirting with the idea of never seeing the light of day again.

It wasn't that my teammates hadn't tried to help me, for they had done what they could. But there wasn't much to be done, especially not in the middle of a full-blown war in which we happened to be losing terribly.

Despite her grief about Neve's death, Gigi tried healing me again and again. It brought very temporary relief from the racking headaches, but the chill never left my bones. The day after, I always woke up feeling worse than before. It was almost as if my body was reacting to her healing by working against it more ferociously than before. While she had done her best, it was like trying to hold water in a jug with a hole in the bottom.

There it was. The stench of sterile tools and latex gloves. I wrinkled my nose when the smell wafted over me.

      Finn's shoulder brushed against mine as we walked through another doorway. I kept my eyes down, though every part of my being was focused on his body close beside me. Neither of us had said a word about him joining Gigi and I here, he had just silently joined us. With a shock, I realized he'd only come because he knew I hated it here. Why he would do such a thing for me, I had no idea. All I knew was that something that had lain dormant deep down inside me for all these years was beginning to stir.

      That thing alone was what made me hope for good news today.

      Hunt was standing in the doorway of the room and turned when he heard us approaching. I saw surprise flit over his face for a split second once he laid eyes on me; we had gone without seeing him for the days we'd been at war, and apparently the toll it had taken was evident in my face.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, uncharacteristically showing concern through his tone.

"Like I'm dying," I answered with a straight face. Finn's hands clenched at his sides, but I knew he was feeling guilty for being used to this by now.

The ONNT director's eyebrows lowered in consternation, but he moved inside, gesturing for us to follow. We found ourselves in a somewhat large place divided between two connected rooms. The first seemed to be more of an examination area, while the second—partially out of view—was taken up by a machine that looked something like a see-through gas chamber.