Night returned to his awkward pacing, playing sentry because he knew nothing else to do. When he heard engines, he ran to the edge of the field and shielded his eyes against the glare. To his great relief, he saw two of the farm's four-wheel-drive trucks with several doggen, including Ehmily, in the beds.
"Jane! They're coming across the field!"
Jane appeared next to him. "Good. V is stable if a bit rattled. The gunshot was a through-and-through and is already starting to heal. Hatrhed is still out, though. I don't know if that's normal, but we can't move her until dark anyway, so there's little to be done."
They watched the trucks approach, and Jane was very efficient with the resources and people when they arrived. Within fifteen minutes, they had Ace strapped to a board and loaded into one of the trucks.
The second truck had carried armed farmhands staying behind to provide protection. Night answered all their questions about the lessers they'd encountered, but he didn't have much information to give them.
"It's like they appeared out of nowhere," he explained.
Ehmily nodded. "When they don't return to report in, others might be sent out to find them."
Night agreed. He surveyed the crew she'd brought. "They know how to fight?"
"Trained by Hatrhed herself," Ehmily answered with pride. "Now, you should get in the truck and go with Ace. He's going to want you there when he wakes up."
The vehicle door was open, waiting for him to ride shotgun. He climbed into the passenger seat and pulled it closed. He twisted around to see that they had rigged the board up so that it was still flat but suspended, somewhat more shockproof to movement than it might otherwise have been. It was slow going, but they eventually reached the road that led to the clinic.
As soon as they were all inside the shuttered above-ground building, the elevator opened for them. They rode down to the underground level, where Vicktor and his staff took over.
They whisked Ace, still unresponsive, away, leaving Night with an empty coffee pot in the equally empty waiting room. He sat until he couldn't sit still, then paced until he couldn't stand it anymore, so he rinsed and repeated the routine. The receptionist eventually felt enough pity for him that she made coffee, which allowed him to have something to carry around and ignore until it got cold.
He had almost fallen asleep propped into a corner on one chair, another acting as a footrest when he heard Jane's voice.
"Night?"
He bolted upright, awake. "How is he?"
She sat beside him. "We were able to remove the bullet from his thigh, and he's getting a transfusion right now for the blood loss. But, he's broken his C2 vertebra, which is in his neck. We'd go in and fuse the bone in a human, but because he's pretrans, we don't think that's a good idea. When he transitions, having rods and screws in bones could cause more damage. So, we have put him in a Minerva brace for traction."
"What's that?"
"A very sophisticated neck brace that helps hold the head in position. It's non-invasive."
Night rubbed his face. "Lassiter says that he'll transition in less than a year and that it will be difficult for him."
"Well, going through a transition with a neck injury would be difficult. But, let's focus on the next few hours first." She smiled at the receptionist who came in to remake coffee before continuing. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet, so we have no way of assessing the true extent of the damage."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we don't know if there's been injury to the spinal cord."
Night sagged back into his chair. "He—he could be paralyzed?"
She cleared her throat. "Worst-case scenario? Yes. But, again, we won't know anything until he wakes up. And, we don't know how the transition might affect the injury either. Many things heal during it."
"So, hurry up and wait."
"I'm afraid so, yes."
His breath hitched, and he looked up at the ceiling, blinking back tears. "I—I hesitated," he confessed. "When I saw the lessers, I hesitated." He dropped his head into his hand, unable to stop the sob from catching in his throat. "Kyle is gone, V nearly so, and now my son..." His head was a mess of swirling emotions; his failure as both a warrior and a sire became the only thought in his mind, knotting his stomach painfully as he shook.
Jane placed a hand on his shoulder. "I don't pretend to know what it's like to be a warrior of the race, Night, so I have few words to offer there, but I encourage you to hope for the best for Ace. He will need a positive influence."
Night scrubbed at his face.
"Have you eaten? Something more than junk food?"
"No. Don't really have an appetite," he assured her.
"Maybe not, but you need to take care of yourself. I'll have something brought. I think that they've made up one of the beds for you so you can get some sleep, too."
"Okay," he replied automatically. Sleep and food were the last things on his mind.
The receptionist returned with a paper bag and held it out to him. "It's not much. Just a sandwich and chips, but it's fresh from the deli. Come down the hall and eat with us. We've got drinks and cookies, too."
He gave her a watery smile. "Thank you. You're kind." He stood and shuffled after her, more out of the need to have something to occupy him than a desire to be with other people.
They all smiled at him and offered him a Coke and an enormous chocolate chip cookie, both of which he took. He ate mechanically, chewing as he listened to their banter, answering their questions when they asked. After eating, the receptionist returned to show him down the hall to the room with the bed. He had just enough mental clarity to remove his boots before laying down.
It seemed but moments had passed when someone was saying his name.
"Night."
He opened his eyes to be met with a swath of white with an orange peel texture; he'd turned onto his side to face the wall. Twisting toward the doorway, he saw Hatrhed looking at him expectantly.
"How's Ace?"
He ran a hand down his face. "I don't know. We won't know anything until he wakes up." He glanced at her. "Thank you for taking care of him."
She shrugged. "Anyone would have."
"How are you? I saw you move. What is your price?"
"Anger. I usually run it out, but when I can't, I pass out. I'm okay." She came into the room and sat in the chair beside the bed. "So... Rhet says that you never told Ace about lessers?"
Night sighed, holding a hand to the back of his stiff neck. "I haven't seen a lesser in decades. Not since moving to Alaska. It seemed more important to teach him survival skills."
"He froze. Utterly. Which isn't to say he wouldn't have anyway, given his age and experience, even if he knew what he was up against. But, he didn't even realize they were a threat." She ran a hand through her hair. "He's lucky the shot didn't kill him."
"This is my fault." Night's shoulders drooped in defeat.
"Well, I wouldn't say that's true entirely, but him not recognizing the enemy when he saw them? It didn't help, Night."
He scowled, but his flash of anger was fleeting. Despair and shame soon replaced it. They settled into an awkward silence until the receptionist appeared in the doorway carrying a duffle bag.
"Um... so, Ehmily from the farmhouse dropped these off for you." She held up the bag. "It's an overnight bag, she said."
Thankful to have something else to do, Night accepted the bag before turning back to Hatrhed.
"My son is lucky to be alive, thanks to you. For that, I thank you."
She stood and made to leave, pausing beside him in the doorway. "I didn't do anything that someone else wouldn't have." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I hope that he recovers well." With that, she made her way out.
Night's heart sank. A certainty that things would not turn out well settled on him. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake it off, but the feeling persisted. He shut the door and shuffled back to the bed, unpacking the bag enough to find fresh clothes and a toothbrush. He occupied himself for fifteen minutes or so, standing under the hot water and getting rid of his pasty morning mouth.
Clean, he searched for the coffee pot and was grateful to find it full. He drank a cup standing beside the counter and then knew he couldn't put it off any longer; he would go in and see Ace.
Night wasn't sure what he expected to find when he saw Mehnace, but the contraption and tubes weren't it. His breath hitched, and his stomach soured when he saw the Minerva brace, IV line, and everything else. When he approached, Ace looked otherwise normal, a surreal picture of someone peacefully asleep. He wanted to take his son's hand but was afraid to disturb him.
"We were just coming to check on him," Jane said from the doorway. With her was Vicktor, who was consulting a chart.
"He's still unconscious. That's a concern," Vicktor murmured to Jane, loud enough for Night to catch what he said. "And now he's running a fever." He flipped through some pages. "But he doesn't show any signs of infection."
His eyes stung. "Can I hold his hand?"
Jane placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes. In fact, the contact might help bring him out of it."
Night took Ace's hand in the two of his, feeling the unusual warmth. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. He saw Ace's eyes flutter. "He responded!"
"Keep talking to him," Jane directed.
"Ace, we want you to wake up. You're in the hospital, and you're safe. Just open your eyes and come back to us."
Ace scowled.
"That's it, Ace. Fight. Fight to wake up. I love you, son."
He let out a moan just before he opened his eyes.
Night couldn't hold back a sob as he gripped his son's hand.
"Where am I?" Ace rasped. He tried to move his head, but the brace restrained him. His eyes went wide. "Dad?"
"I'm here."
"I can't feel anything. Why?"
Jane explained, "You broke your neck, Ace. We have you immobilized, but we need to assess what other damage might have been done."
"We were in the woods. Hunting. But, these pale men showed up and... the others!" His jaw tensed. "Are Rhet and Hatrhed okay? Wilhelm?"
"They're all fine," Night assured him.
"So, just me, then?"
Night shifted his weight. "We were attacked, too. V fell and was kicked in the head by the feral pigs, but he's going to be fine. Kyle—Kyle didn't make it."
"Kyle's dead?"
Ace's eyes locked on to his. "Is that your fault, too?"