He lifted her contaminated hand to his mouth.
“No! Don’t. It isn’t safe.” She struggled against him.
“Stop! You need to lie still.” He couldn’t get through to her. All she could hear was her own panic. “Doc, she’s losing it. She’s going to hit the mist again at this rate.”
“I’m here.” The team medic slid to his knees beside them. “I’ll hold her. You get rid of the red.” His face paled when he saw how much of it coated Friday’s arm. “Hurry!” He leaned forward and used his body to pin her chest and flailing arm to the dirt.
“No! No!” There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she pleaded with Doc. “Help Striker. He was in the mist. You need to help him. He said there was time. Please”—she sobbed—“please.”
“Damn it, man, get on with it.” Doc looked traumatized by her distress.
The barrier cream Doc had developed would buy them a couple of minutes at most. Holding Friday’s hand tight, he lifted it to his face and licked the red mist off her skin.
The horror and distress, in her eyes was almost too much to bear. “You can’t! I’m not worth dying for. Make him stop!” she pleaded with Doc.
“I can knock her out.” Doc’s voice was strained.
“Can’t,” Striker said around licking the red mist off her skin, making sure he didn’t miss any, knowin
g his saliva would counteract any trace amounts that were left behind. “Interferan-X remember?”
Their medic cursed as he pressed down on Friday, keeping her immobile. Suddenly, her eyes rolled back, and she went limp. Striker felt the bottom fall out of his stomach.
“She’s not—” He couldn’t even finish the question.
Doc checked for a pulse. “She passed out. I’ll hook up an IV line while you finish up.”
There was no time to lose. He focused on cleaning her skin, one tiny inch at a time, grateful the mist had only touched a small area of her body. He was also irrationally grateful that he didn’t need any help to remove the red from her skin. He only wanted his mouth on Friday, no matter what the circumstances. And that made him feel like a complete bastard.
His eye stayed on her face as he worked. She was pale, far too pale. She looked almost peaceful, lying there. The kind of peace reserved for death.
A flash of panic raced through him. “You sure she’s okay?”
“Yeah.” Doc held the bag of fluids high above her, the line from it feeding into her arm. “I don’t think this is a reaction to the mist. I think it’s a combination of exhaustion, dehydration, and whatever the hell that poison she took is doing to her insides.”
Striker licked off the last of the residue and began checking every inch of visible skin, to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. “I thought the Interferan lay dormant, sealing off her implants until it activated days later?”
“I thought so, too, but it isn’t my area of expertise.” The medic rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing in this new world is my area of expertise. I’m making things up as I go.”
“We all are.” He checked Friday’s arm one last time. There was no telltale discoloration of the skin that would let him know the red mist had been absorbed. They’d got to it in time.
“She’s okay, we got it. She’s okay.” His hands trembled as he gathered her to him.
He’d promised he’d keep her safe, and he’d failed. He wouldn’t fail a second time. One way or another, he’d make sure Friday had the long life she dreamed of.
A firm hand clasped his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. She must have been disorientated. It’s no wonder she stumbled into the mist.”
He shook his head. “She didn’t stumble. I was walking beside her, to keep her upright, and she must have seen my arm touching the mist. She lunged into it to save me. She pulled my arm out of the damned mist.”
Doc’s eyes grew wide. “She was trying to save your life?”
“Yeah, she almost killed herself trying to save my life. I was never in any danger. I should have told her before we even entered the Red Zone that I wouldn’t be at risk. I should have come clean with her.”
“No, you couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have believed you anyway, and you can’t give out that kind of information unless you’re in a safe environment. You made the right decision, waiting until you got to base.”
“A decision that could have cost her life.” He brushed a strand of pale hair off Friday’s face.
“You didn’t know she’d try to save you.”