Dusk

Chapter Seven

I'm in motion.

"She's bleeding all over you." Says a familiarly sharp voice.

"Do you think I care? Drive faster!" Another familiar voice snaps. It's inhuman and processed to oblivion.

"I'm just saying it'll be difficult to clean."

A pause. "I wouldn't want to clean her blood off anyway."

--

I'm underneath a bright light. I groan blearily, the pain in my abdomen almost too much to bear. I try to move my hands to touch the area, but I find that my hands won't move.

"She's awake, sir," says the sharp voice. "Should I put her under again?"

"Do it."

I feel fingers probing in my gut, searching for something. The pain makes my body arch off of the flat surface I'm lying on, forcing a rough cry from my throat.

"I'm so sorry, Deva," Idris says. "It's almost out. You'll be okay."

I can't see him. All I can see is the light, brighter than the sun. My eyes water, and when I close them, the afterimage of the light is burnt onto my eyelids.

"I... can't... move!"

"You're restrained so you don't interrupt the process," Idris explains. "Just stay calm."

"My brother," I gasp. "Where's my brother?"

Idris doesn't reply to this. The fingers in my gut yank something out. The bullet, I think feverishly.

"Anden!" Idris shouts. "Where is it?"

"I'm having trouble measuring out the dosage, sir. Too much, and-"

"Give it to me, you fool!"

Something is poured into the hole in my stomach. It smells like honey and warmth. I would find the scent of it comforting if it weren't for the fact that it increases the pain tenfold. There's a high-pitched sound in my ears. It takes me a while to realize that it's my own scream.

"You're fine now. You're alright."

"I'm- I'm dying!"

"Don't say that," he whispers, after I've finished screaming again. "You can't die. You're alive, and you're staying alive."

How can you be sure? I want to ask, but another scream ravages my throat raw, and I pass out.

--

The next time I'm awake, I'm no longer restrained. There's no more pain, either, but fuzz occupies every inch of my conscious mind. A gas mask is strapped to my face, pumping cool air into my lungs. Whenever I breathe in, everything goes blurry at the edges.

"How are you feeling?"

I look to my right a bit. A girl sits there, pale, green-eyed, and dark-haired.

"You're beautiful," I say weakly. "You must be Alexandra Verdin."

A blush colours her cheeks. "And you must be Deva Amador."

"You know me?"

She brushes a strand of shining hair behind her ear. "I'd like to think I do. But back to my question- how are you feeling? Are you alright?"

"No more pain," I manage. "How long have I been here?"

Alexandra Verdin raises her wrist, her watch projecting a small hologram of the time. My vision is too blurry for me to even begin to read the revolving numbers.