They Are Monsters (Deathless Trilogy, #2)

Chapter Thirty: Home

Light bounces off the cemetery of Prowler corpses, and stings my eyes. The wall and yard have been destroyed, shot through, and the Immortal rests like a great ship on an ocean of green.

Survivors and soldiers alike line up to enter the tank through it's one, flawed entrance, and we take our places at the back. Using pulleys, soldiers lift equipment, boxes, and experiments up to the patio, where they can easily push the supplies into labs. That's how they lift Nina's body too.

Daniel, Eleanor, and a group of soldiers take me and Celia to the Immortal's infirmary, not the one they've set up for the overflow on the first floor with the detention cells, and I see Ian on one of the beds, his face swollen with bruises. Down the line of hospital beds, I see Phoebe, Winston, and Joe asleep as well.

I lie back on the bed beside Ian, and watch as Celia's wound is stitched on the bed to my left. Nurses begin tending to my many wounds: the shallow puncture wound on my stomach, the pus-filled incision behind my ear, the stitched line down my forearm where my glowing blue panel waits to be removed, the defensive cuts on the other side of my arms from the drone propellers, the bruised spot on the back of my skull, and the Prowler claw-shaped bruises across my abdomen and back. The nurses hover around me, so I can barely see Daniel or Eleanor anymore.

"Where's my mom?" I ask. She should be here. She could hold me and I could cry in her arms, and it wouldn't stop me from feeling broken, but it would help me get back to my core. To the girl who first woke up in this place.

"She's on her way," Eleanor responds from behind the nurses. "She's the Vice President now."

I manage to smile. "She is?" I ask too softly for anyone to hear over the nurses' tape and stitches and mumbles. They are worried about the pus from my wound infecting my brain, and about whether or not Nina had any bloodborne diseases I could have contracted. I don't have any more strength to worry.

The line of nurses breaks and a friend walks toward me. "Didn't think I'd see you back in this room, Scout Finch," Declan says with a smile, but his eyes reflect the nurses' worry.

I begin to cry at the sight of him. "Declan," is all I manage to say.

One of the nurses elbows him on accident and mumbles an apology, "Sorry, Mr. President."

"President?" I ask. He nods, and I manage to smile. "I didn't think we would have a President after McCleary."

"Yeah, well, after you all were taken, we weren't sure if anyone would come back. We had no idea where you all were. So, the entire camp decided we needed a leader, called the position 'President,' and had an election. Somehow, I guess 'cause I was the last of us left, they chose me."

"C'mon," I say, lifting my arm weakly to nudge his, "you earned it."

He half smiles, looking at me. "Nurses, would you leave us a while?" he asks.

All but one of the nurses nod and walk out of the room, past Eleanor. She holds Daniel in her arms while tears fill his eyes. The two of them make their way to the other side of my bed, blocking Ian from view. Not that he cares, he's out cold, whether from sleep or injury, I don't know. It shouldn't be from the implant, since I'm awake and conscious now, but he had his longer. So did Joe, and so did Phoebe. Maybe Joe was right: The damage is irreversible.

The last nurse secures a bandage over my stomach wound, and pops two antibiotic pills in my mouth before leaving. While she does, Declan whispers, "I saw him. I saw Hugh. Do you... do you know what happened?"

I want to tell him right there, but I suddenly can't find my words. "Declan... I... I'm so sorry."

His eyes moisten and he holds up his hands. "It's okay. I thought I lost him before. I'll just pretend like there was never any hope of getting him back."