lashes looked like dark fans against his pallid skin. His too-shallow breaths wheezed in and out.
“Hey, sweet bee.” I brushed his sandy-blond hair back from his forehead. “It’s me, Tess.”
Slowly, Coltin’s eyes opened. They were blue, like mine.
“I knew you’d come.” His words cracked and scratched, his voice so weak I could hardly hear him.
I bit my lip, fighting tears. “Nowhere I’d rather be than with you.”
“I think…I might’ve…seen…my mom.” He panted between words, and I could hear the rattle in his lungs. That rattle had terrified me when he was a baby. It still did.
My voice thickened. “Your mom’s a star, sweet bee. You see her in every sunbeam.”
“No.” Coltin’s swallow clicked in his dry throat. “I just saw her. Just like the picture I have. But then”—he stopped, trying to catch his breath—“I opened my eyes, and it was you.”
Tears sprang up and overflowed. I was glad Coltin didn’t see them. He drifted back to sleep, exhausted from just a few words. I held his hand, and the agitated twitching of his fingers was the only thing keeping me from falling apart, because it meant he was still there, still alive, still fighting.
Around me, no one spoke, and the pall-like silence haunted me until a slew of nurses converged on us, jarring me back to my feet. Without needing specific directions from Surral, they organized their attack on the virus like a team of scrub-wearing soldiers, a candy-colored brigade leading their charge. There was no Overseer brown here, no washing out of life. This was where life was injected back into people, and not only through hard-fought-for and scarce medicine and shots.
But then we grew up and left, adults seeing in brilliant color, and nothing else in the galaxy ever lived up to what we’d had on Starway 8.
For a bright, flashing second, the thought of Shade punched right through my ribs and hit my heart like a fist. He’d been colorful. If he hadn’t been the enemy, he might have lived up.
I let out a slow breath, banishing Shade from my thoughts. My devastation over Starway 8’s recent deaths lingered, as did the dark cloud of loss and worry for the sick, but the nurses’ efficiency left little room for standing around and wallowing. They were already on to the next step.
Mareeka put everyone and everything on pause with a single raised hand and the slight clearing of her throat. “Every nurse and adult present gets an injection first.” She speared the three of us from the Endeavor with a hard look, especially me. “It’s highly contagious. No arguments, please.”
Jax and Fiona obediently rolled up their sleeves and held out their arms. I hated to let anyone waste a shot on me, so I pretended to do it myself, surreptitiously giving the injection to Coltin instead. He didn’t even move when I stuck him in the upper arm, but I gained slight comfort in the midst of all this fragility—the beeping monitors, wheezing lungs, and droning track lighting—knowing he’d get a double dose.
I made sure Surral saw my empty syringe as I threw it out and then pressed on my arm as if it stung.
Liberated as soon as they were vaccinated, the nurses dispersed with the cases of injections. Surral gave one to Coltin herself and then checked his vitals, scribbling numbers on his chart. Jax, Fiona, and I stayed out of the way. They would go back to the Endeavor, and we’d leave as soon as I could.
Mareeka swept out an arm, motioning Jax and Fiona forward and shepherding them as though they’d always been a part of her flock. “Let’s get you back to your ship. Our security cameras are undergoing maintenance, and we wouldn’t want anyone sneaking up on you while you’re here. As soon as Tess is ready, as usual, a quick departure is for the best.”
Security was down? Great. I knew these checks only lasted a few hours and came at irregular intervals, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. Shade knew where I was. He’d be on his way. With any luck, though, it would take him a while to shake off whatever had sent him reeling like a drunkard across the Squirrel Tree dock.
I nodded for Jax and Fiona to go. We wouldn’t linger, no matter how much I longed to curl up under the watchful blanket of this institution and its keepers, read, dance, and eat ridiculous amounts of liquid gold with kids who were never told that it