I'm Not Dead

[ C H . 1 7 ]

However, if you die immediately from your wounds as Luna and the boy did, then it only takes a few minutes at most for the parasites to claim their host.

There wasn't a name for our genetic mutation, because it was the first time they had seen anything like it. 

The immunity seemed to have come from our mom's side of the family and resided in the nucleus of our white blood cells. When the parasite attacked our immune systems, damaging our white blood cells, their nucleus' were able to anticipate the consistency of the attacks and started reproducing more rapidly than the average person's cells. We weren't entirely immune, the parasite still made us sick, but it never got past entering our immune system. Once our bodies had forced it out, it was gone, leaving behind a new string of white blood cells that contained mutated macrophages with antibodies against the parasite.

In Mateo terms, our immune systems had a superpower to efficiently fight off severe infections and maniacal invaders attempting to kill us.

Yawning, I stretched out my sore legs before slipping off my bed and turning off the television they had rolled in on a cart. The Doctors didn't need us for any tests this morning, so I'd been taking my time getting out of bed. I hated all the tests they did. They took blood samples, urine samples, bone marrow samples (hurts like a bitch) and more that I couldn't remember. I swear they had drawn so many different things from me, the experiments were going to kill me in place of the parasite. The only thing keeping me functioning was day drinking and numbing my mind with re-runs of The Simpsons. 

Stepping out the door, I glanced left and right down the hall. Seeing there was no one around, I slipped back in the room and lifted my mattress. Pulling out my silver flask of liquor, I swirled it before pressing the rim to my lips. The liquid felt incredible going down my throat, tempting me to finish my stash, but I didn't have much left. They had some liquor leftover from a staff member's birthday party last month. It wasn't a lot, scarcely half a bottle, but I needed something to pull me through.

"What are you doing?"

Jumping in surprise, I coughed as some of the vodka dribbled down my chin. Narrowing my eyes, I glanced over my shoulder at Evie as I capped the flask and slipped it back under my mattress. "I felt like having some water." I took a seat on my bed, wiping my chin with the back of my hand.

"Water, sure." Evie retorted, walking across the room and sitting next to me. The mattress groaned from the addition of her weight. "We're not supposed to drink you know. It could mess with the experiments."

Shaking my head, I made sure to breathe out away from her so she couldn't smell the stench of liquor. "I'm not the only one immune to this bullshit. Anyways, who are you to judge how I spend my days off?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm but my lingering irritation made it tight.

Going quiet, Evie pulled a thread out of my quilt as she looked down at her lap.

Evie and I hadn't been handling the disrupted flow of our substances very well. I needed alcohol to loosen up and forget about what was bogging me down. Evie needed weed to relax and be more Zen. Sober she was aggressive, moody, and snippier than Eleanor was with me. 

Right now though, she just seemed sad.

"What's up Evie?"

Finally looking up at me, Evie breathed in and out sharply. "They haven't found Sophia yet, Linda's pretty sure she's...that she..." Evie shook her head, blinking hard as her eyes became glassy. "Doesn't matter, there's no point in getting upset up over it. I'm pretty sure everyone we've ever known, friend or foe is dead."

No matter how much I drank, I would never be able to smother the physical reaction I had to Sophia's name. Every able-bodied muscle in me tensed, while my pulse raced and my limbs twitched.