“One too many,” the older voice said roughly, and I stopped struggling to move. The words rang in my head louder than anything I’d ever heard, and seeing as I’d just survived a rockslide, that said a lot. One casualty. I managed to ease my eyes open, then squeezed them closed again. They burned and my eyelids felt like sandpaper, but I stubbornly kept at it, blinking to clear my vision. I tried to lift my hand to rub them, and the pain made tears well up. Though they hurt, the tears actually helped, and after blinking a few more times I could see the bright white room and the beds opposite and around me.
As before, Jai was across from me and Jo was next to me, both asleep or unconscious. Jorensen was in the bed to one side of me, and the large form in the bed next to Jai could only be Josef. Wavy, golden-red hair spilled over one pillow—Jaya.
I looked around with as much effort as I could muster, identifying everyone I could. Joaquim’s darker red hair was visible from a bed near the door. J/O looked unharmed, powered down and seated in a chair nearby.
I struggled to sit, ignoring the voices telling me to be still as I continued to look around the room. I saw the tip of Jenoh’s tail and Joliette’s pale skin, one of Jakon’s lightly furred, clawed hands with splints on three of her fingers, but nowhere in the stark white room did I see the bright red feather tips of Jerzy’s hair.
CHAPTER TEN
THE FUNERAL WAS A lot like Jay’s had been, except I saw it from the front row instead of the infirmary window. I was between Jo and Josef, the only two on my team aside from me who were able to stand. Jai was still unconscious, the least of Jakon’s injuries was a twisted ankle, and J/O was still powered down. He’d been close enough to the explosions that some of his circuitry had been fried. He’d survive, they were pretty sure. They just didn’t know if he’d be fully functional.
The Old Man stood on the platform in front of a coffin, talking about when Jerzy had first come to InterWorld. He told a brief story about how Jerzy’s enthusiasm for training had gotten him locked in the Hazard Zone overnight once, and some of us laughed. Jo was crying. So was I.
I’d wondered, at the time, where Jay’s body had gone when he’d died. The box had shimmered and vanished, but I didn’t know where to. In a few moments, the same thing would happen to Jerzy. I wished I could see his bright red hair feathers one more time, but the coffin was closed. He’d been so buried in the avalanche that one of the rocks had crushed his chest, and the Old Man hadn’t wanted any of us to see him like that. When he’d said so, I’d looked again in his expression for the man he’d been in the picture with Acacia. I couldn’t see it, this time. That man had been happy. This one just looked tired.
I understood the shouting now, too. It was the first thing I’d seen at Jay’s funeral, when I’d watched from the infirmary; as the coffin vanished, five hundred people lent their voices to a single shout, a last hurrah. I hadn’t gotten it then, but now even though my ears rang and my throat itched and my eyes stung, I understood the noise as it left my throat. Though I didn’t use any words, I was shouting Look out! I was shouting This way, there’s a cave. I was shouting I’m sorry. I was saying good-bye. We all were.
The music played and we all stood there as the coffin vanished. Some of us cried. Some of us hugged. I wanted to take Jo’s hand, but my arm was in a sling and my shoulder was killing me, and I needed my free hand to wipe my eyes so I could see. I wasn’t sure she’d appreciate it, anyway. After all, it was entirely possible I was the one who’d gotten Jerzy killed in the first place.
I’d played the scene over and over in my mind as I recovered in the infirmary after the funeral. I saw it when I dreamed, and I remembered everything about it I could when I was questioned. He’d pulled me to the edge so we could try to jump. I’d remembered the cave, and pulled him back. A rock had hit my shoulder, and I’d felt his hand slip from mine. I hadn’t been able to see him anymore. Had I tried to call out? I couldn’t remember. Maybe if I’d called out, he could have found me. Maybe he’d have been able to make it to the cave.
Classes were scheduled as usual that day; the death of a Walker didn’t mean we could take a break. It meant we had to work harder. It meant things had just gotten worse for us. It meant we had one less person standing in the way of HEX and Binary. It meant we all had to band together.
Except me, apparently.
“Joey Harker.”
“Sir.” My voice sounded dull and flat. I was tired; I hadn’t been able to sleep the night after Jerzy’s funeral. I kept dreaming he was falling toward me, and if I could just catch him, I could tell everyone he wasn’t dead.
“Your injuries should heal in a matter of weeks, three at the most. If you take daily vitamins and refrain from any strenuous activity, you should be well enough to train again in two, maybe even one. See the doctors every night. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ve been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. You understand what that means?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your daily schedule is cleared until further notice. You will be injected with a tracer, for your own safety. Regular sessions with the therapist have been scheduled.”
“Yes, sir.” My mind was numb. I didn’t know what else to say—I was just glad they weren’t killing me. Or worse, taking my memories and kicking me out. After all, I knew what the Old Man wasn’t saying: I’d now been present for the deaths of two Walkers. They’d already taken a chance with me; they couldn’t take any more. I wasn’t benched because I had PTSD, I was on probation. One wrong move, and I’d be out of here so fast it’d make my head spin, assuming it was still attached to my shoulders.
Even though classes were going on as usual, depression hung like fog over Base Town, like something tangible and oppressive. The Walkers I encountered in the halls didn’t
meet my eyes, and most of them just stepped aside to let me pass. Everyone’s shoulders drooped; everyone walked with their heads down and their feet shuffling, looking tired and upset.
My sling was both a mark of honor and of shame; everyone knew I’d been there. They knew I’d been injured in an accident that had killed a Walker. What they didn’t know was that every time someone stepped aside to let me pass first, every time someone nodded as I walked by, I hated myself a little more.
I hadn’t been able to save him. I’d been right there, and he’d tried to help me and gotten killed. How many more times was a Walker going to die because of me?
It was like when I’d first come to Base Town after Jay’s death, but worse. Back then, five hundred people I didn’t even know had hated and shunned me. Now, five hundred comrades were looking at me askance.
I wouldn’t have gone so far as to call all of them friends. I still didn’t know all of them, at least not personally. Living with five hundred or so other people whose names all started with J made it a little hard to get to know everyone, but at least I’d started to fit in. I’d been just another recruit, aside from my friendship with Hue.
Now, the quiet chatter got even quieter as I walked into the mess hall, people lowering their voices or trailing off as they glanced my way. I tried to ignore it, just going over to the cafeteria and getting a tray, but I felt like everyone was watching me. I sat down at an empty table, not even sure if I wanted anyone to come join me. The back of my neck felt prickly, like it had out in the field, but without the pleasant exhilaration. I felt like a mouse in a jar. I missed Jerzy, and I was worried about Acacia and everyone who’d been involved in the avalanche. J/O was still powered down and Jai still hadn’t woken up, and it was possible Jorensen would never walk again.
A tray plunked down opposite me, and I looked up to see Joaquim. One side of his face was covered in scratches and abrasions, and he looked as tired as I felt.
“Hey,” I offered, trying for a normal tone of voice.