I choke on a scream and stumble back against the desk. My dream and reality converge as the monster advances. This must be one of those alien creatures Lyric warned me about, only it looks nothing like a bird. It snarls and I shriek, but there’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped against the desk as the dog-demon gets ever closer until I can feel the heat of its breath on my skin.
A furtive glance around reveals there isn’t much to defend myself with but medical supplies and a desk lamp. Throwing the lamp will do nothing but piss him off, but I have no other options. I rip it from the wall and grip it tightly between two hands. Once it’s within range, I’ll jam the fucking thing down its throat.
Except I don’t get the chance.
There’s a deafening BOOM and then green blood sprays over my face, coating my tongue, filling my nose, and stinging my eyes. I scream and drop the lamp, which clatters at my feet. Wiping at my streaming eyes with the back of my hands, I try to squint through the sting to see if the demon-dog is coming to devour me.
I’d dropped the flashlight at some point, so I can only see during the brief flashes of red. They illuminate a shadowed lump at my feet and a figure hovering above. It flashes again and the figure moves closer. I press myself back into the desk again, blood dripping off of me, forgotten.
In the next flash, I see Avrell’s face and my knees buckle. He reaches out and catches me before I fall to the ground, but I slap at his hands and steady myself against the desk.
“Are you injured?” he asks above the wailing of the siren.
“Where the hell have you been?” I yell, my voice hoarse. At the bitter, acrid taste of blood, I grimace and spit, uncaring of my audience.
Avrell lifts the zonnoblaster in his hands. “There was a breach. I went to get weapons. Now answer me. Are you injured?”
I see red, and it’s not from the emergency lights. “You could have been killed! You’re sick. You shouldn’t be traipsing around the Medical Bay hunting monsters in your condition. What if it had attacked you?”
“Woman, if you don’t answer my question, I’m going to be forced to strip you down and look for myself.”
“I’m fine! The same won’t be said for you when I’m through with you. I thought you were dead.”
The realization hits me like a zonnoblaster round straight to the chest. What I feared worst of all had almost come true.
But not for the reasons I’d thought.
Not because I was worried about what it would mean for us and the morts if he couldn’t find a cure.
No, I’m struck speechless because of what losing Avrell would have meant for me.
“I don’t believe you. You seem as though you’re suffering from shock. Come, sit down. Let me give you an exam.”
“There’s only one of us who is sick here, Avrell. I’m fine.” But I don’t have any energy left to fight him when he maneuvers me to an exam table.
“Your heart rate is elevated and you’re behaving erratically. You’re definitely in shock.”
“Blah blah blah. Don’t pull that sexy doctor bullshit on me. I’m not the one who should be getting looked at. You look like you’re about to fall over. You should be resting.”
Naturally, he ignores me and begins taking my vitals, even though he’s out of breath and sweating profusely. “We have to inform Hadrian of the breach so they can contain it.” He says this more to himself than to me.
“What is that thing?” I ask, my gaze drifting to the dead hulking beast.
His breath shudders out. “I don’t know. The alarm alerted me, and I went to see what it was. I should have stayed here with you. It could have killed you. When I heard you scream, I got the zonnoblaster and ran as fast as I could. I thought I wouldn’t get back to you in time.”
I didn’t even realize I screamed. “I thought I was still dreaming at first. I thought it was a nightmare. It doesn’t sound like any of the animals you or the other morts have ever described.”
“That’s because I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
We both grow quiet through the rest of his careful examination. I let him take my temperature and heart-rate. He gives me a thorough once-over and I don’t protest. I don’t have the words. Besides, his hands roaming over me, checking for injuries, is soothing. With each brush of his fingertips, my body and mind settle. I fight the urge to pull him closer, to press my body against his to remind myself he’s okay.
He’s alive.
Because I know there’s a chance he may not be for long.