Imperfect Freedom

Twenty-Two

I haven't seen Sorrel all day and neither Elle or I have been able to decipher whether that's good or bad. However, when we sneak out to go to the CD, we discover the lady is on duty again and waiting by the exit. The first thing I ask her is, "What's your name?"

Elle and I had discovered during the day that she hadn't actually told us her name, or if she did, we couldn't remember.

She smiles. "Iris. But if we are around others, it's Ms Evers."

I nod and Electra elbows me. I frown. "Right. Sorrel."

Iris sighs. "Of course. I got him to stay with a friend of mine. The guy I told you about? He was fine with taking him in for the night, but Sorrel should be back at the CD tonight. I radioed early in the morning and they told me the evacuation had been pulled because they were suspecting a raid. But it didn't happen, so the whole place is back to normal. Sorrel is already down there."

I nod. "Are you coming down too?"

She nods and grins. "Oh yes. And we better hurry. There's an exciting announcement I think you two will love. There's a meeting at 11 so let's get down there quickly."

She turns and starts walking quickly and Elle and I exchange an excited glance. Announcement?

What could it be?

-*-*-

The pain has faded to a dull ache. When I open my eyes, the room I'm in is dark, all of the lights turned off. A steady beep fills my ears an I can't make sense of my surroundings. It was all so familiar...

Then I realise. I was in a hospital room.

I slowly sit up and examine the room around me. I was lying in a bed, the sheets around me black, wearing a loose thin nightgown. There is another bed but it is empty. I move to get out of bed only to find a tube inserted into my back, no doubt there to feed drugs into me. I pull it out, wincing as I do so. I drop it and then stand up. The room is dimly lit by the small amount of light coming from a digital clock on the wall. It reads 9:17. That was more than 12 hours after the time I think I lost consciousness.

I slowly walk towards the door and try sliding it open. It doesn't budge.

Locked.

I curse and look around the room. Why was I in hospital? What had happened? What was that pain?

I sigh and sit back down on my bed. The room is so silent I can hear my own uneven breathing.

I wish I had light. The dark was making me uneasy.

I pull my knees up to my chest and try to calm my beating heart. I bury my face into my knees and focus on breathing.

I don't even know why I feel so nervous. My throat just keeps clogging up.

Then the door opens and I lift my head.

Reese's face appears and light filters into the room from the bright corridor outside.

"Reese." I say, my voice coming out thick with fear. I attempt to calm myself down and try again. "Reese, why am I here?"

She sighs and walks into the room. I unwrap my arms from around my knees and slide over on the bed so she can sit down.

When she does, she's slow and hesitant. There is a pause, and she twists her fingers, then she says, "Maedana, there's a chemical inside you. The call it Lockart. It messes with your system. Makes your whole body stuff up occasionally. They drained most of it when they brought you in, but there is some that will never come out, and it spreads, so there is a risk you might have another attack."

My throat tightens as she speaks and I don't say a word when she's done.

Then I hear her take a deep breath and she continues. "I don't know how to say this. They said I would be the best person to tell you but I don't even want to deal with this."

Fear fills my chest again, but is a different kind of fear. It is the fear of bad news. Finally I force myself to speak. "Reese, what is it you don't want to tell me?"

She sighs and looks at me. Her eyes are filled with sympathy. I hate it.

"They've had you in surgery on and off for three days, and they finally let you be this morning. But... Yesterday, the group of doctors that were looking after Calix... I overheard them talking when I dropped by after work to check on you. They were debating about whether to keep him on life support. One was arguing that his machinery was taking up energy and time that they shouldn't- they shouldn't-" her voice breaks up and she drops her eyes. "She said that they shouldn't waste their time on a black."

Anger fills my chest. Waste their time on a black? What the hell was wrong with them? It was his life, and whether he was a black or not he should keep it.

"The argument finished and it ended like they wouldn't turn him off." Reese says then smiles softly at me, but it is a broken smile, filled with sadness. Then her face falls and she has to look away.

"But today, at work, I was going through the usual routine when my supervisor stopped me from helping with one of the bodies."

Her voice catches and she has to stop for a moment. I hear her muffle a sob. I try to convince myself not to believe what she says, what she was implying, what I knew was the truth but dreaded knowing for sure.

"I tried to push past him but he held me back. All I got to see was his hair, but I knew it was him. I told myself it wasn't, but when I came to see you, I looked in and..."

That is when she starts crying.

"I'm sorry Mae. I'm so, so, sorry." She whimpers.

There is not a tear in my eye but I can't breathe as I stand. I don't conciously recall running to the door, or the frantic run down the corridor past white-scrub wearing nurses and doors concealing people that would recover.

I don't know how, but somehow I find the door to the ICU and push inside. A few nurses and doctors turn to look at me a but I ignore them. My eyes are only on the patients. Five of them out of the twelve beds. And finally a tear slips down my cheek. Not one blonde-haired, green-eyed boy lays in them.

Calix was gone.

My head is heavy with feelings I can't even start to understand. But I do recognise one.

Grief. Pure, utter, pain stricken grief.

It is the grief that forces me to my knees. The grief that makes me sob uncontrollably. The grief that tears me apart.

Nurses rush to me, confused as to what was going on. Some try to comfort me but I push them away.

"You did this!" I scream at them, but not in anger. All in grief. "You killed him!"

I can't stop myself from screaming. It is all inside me, forcing itself out.

I thought I barely cared about Calix anymore. But I do. I care about him so much. I care about all he was. The rebellion, the hope, the comfort, the laughter. He was the light.

But now he was gone and I was left in the dark.

I feel someone stab something in my neck but the pain of the needle is nothing compared to the pain of the grief. The pain that he is gone.

I don't stop sobbing, but I hear a kind voice whisper to me, "It will be okay. Just sleep it off."

And then the world gives way to dreams. Dreams of grief.