Chapter 22: Pay in Blood, Pt. 2

The men were gone when Lily emerged, but the smell of smoke remained.

Brenna tried to rearrange her face into something less guilty. “I wasn’t eavesdropping! Not on purpose. You really walked across the entire Blight?”

“I guess,” said Lily, who was still stunned by how easily she had told the mayor the truth, and how willingly he'd believed her. Just like that.

“That’s insane!” Brenna hooked her arm through Lily's and pulled her out into the street. “Abbott’s from the east too, you know, but I think he came through the Borderlands. No one just walks across the Blight! I bet that’s why he was so nice to you.”

If that was nice, Lily wondered what Abbott's unfriendliness would look like. “I didn’t know there was another way to go.”

Brenna shrugged. “I don’t think it was any easier. He had another family then, but he told my grandad the Coalition murdered them. That's why he asks newcomers if they're part of it.”

"Oh," Lily said faintly. "We're not."

"Obviously. Come on, let me show you around."

They took a meandering route back to the hospital, passing through the marketplace. Lily let Brenna chatter, listening to anecdotes of people she’d never met and places she’d never been. It was nice to have someone else do the talking for a change.

A hundred different worries cycloned through her mind. Michael would have to come and open doors. If the station still functioned, if he was willing to go back, if he was fit to travel…

Everyone who went with them was going to see the Coalition flag on the wall, and the Coalition labels on all the medicine, and hear the machine voice welcoming Michael as a Coalition Operative.

Her stomach twisted.

“Here, catch.”

Lily’s hands came up automatically. It was an apple, not dried or canned or mashed, but whole and bigger than her clenched fist. “What?”

“You don’t have apples over there? Eat it, it’s good. It’s sweet.” Brenna bit into her own apple with a beatific smile.

“I can’t take this.” Lily held it out. Fresh fruit was worth too much for her to even hold. They were already in debt—

“Sure you can,” Brenna insisted, breaking the panicked spiral of her thoughts. “Come on, I’ll show you the docks.”

Lily didn’t want to see the docks, or think about how impossibly deep the lake must be, but Brenna had given her an apple. She tucked the fruit into her coat and scrambled after her taller guide.

The boats tied up at the creaking docks were clever hybrids of wood and metal, scrubbed clean but still smelling of fish. Most had coiled nets in the bottom.

“That one’s Luke’s.” Brenna pointed out a sleek vessel with winged fish painted on its hull. “I make nets. Well, I knit and weave a lot of things, but I make nets too.”

Part of the long shoreline looked like something had taken a bite out of it, near the mouth of the river powering the wheel of a distant mill. Lily squinted at the far shore.

“That’s where the bomb landed,” Brenna supplied helpfully. “It’s the millpond now—”

Lily took a hasty step back. She hadn’t seen any deformities. Everyone looked normal and whole, and there were clearly fish in the lake. “What about the rads?”

“You mean crater sickness? Seattle said it’s been so long that all the, um, particles died. People came to test the fish, a long time ago.” Brenna shrugged, pitching her apple core out into the water. “Ready to head back?”

—

Dr. Burnett marched at them as they entered the hospital, and Lily's heart stopped. "What's wrong? Is he—”

"He's fine," Burnett said, and Lily realized her expression wasn't one of alarm; it was something much worse. “Wait down here, Miss Wade.”

Brenna stopped in her tracks like she’d hit a wall. “Hope everything’s ok,” she said meekly. “Bye.”

Upstairs, the nurse from earlier was stationed in the hallway like a sentry. She scurried away at a gesture from the doctor.

Much of Lily's anxiety eased when she found Michael alert, sitting up.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Burnett said. "I didn't expect him to be conscious yet, but he's got scar tissue forming."

Yet again he’d slept off a mortal wound like it was a headache. First 86, then the caravan — Jean shot him through and through. Lily had seen the scars. “Good?”

Burnett closed and bolted the door.

“I had my suspicions, but now I'm sure. I know what you are, Michael, and it's only a matter of time before the mayor finds out too."

"Don't," Lily warned, angling between them.

"Oh, I'm not going to tell him," the old woman scoffed. "And I'm not afraid of him. I’m not afraid of Operatives either.”

“I’m not an Operative anymore,” Michael said.

Burnett folded her arms, studying him with her head cocked to one side. "I noticed.”

"We’re not staying long,” Lily said. "I have a plan to pay you back for our care. We won't be any trouble, just…"

"Don't spill the beans? I wouldn't give Harlan the satisfaction." Burnett sighed. "I'll make sure you're given privacy, but you’ll have to leave soon. It’s a good thing he's healing so fast. How do you do that?”

“They made me this way,” he said, flatly.

"How…" Lily swallowed. “How do you know about Operatives?”

"You're not the first refugees who've made it to the Federation," the doctor explained. “News comes up from New Columbia too. But there is no Coalition here, and no war."

Lily tried to wrap her mind around all that. She looked at Michael, who just looked tired.

"My people will keep quiet," Burnett said. "I'll do what I can to keep you safe."

"Why," Lily said. "You don't even know us."

"I swore an oath.” The doctor smiled. “Rest while you can, both of you. I'll be downstairs."

—

Lily folded her arms on the bed and lay her head down. “This is really bad,” she said, into the quilt.

She felt the mattress shift as he readjusted. "Do you trust her?"

"I want to.” Lily sat up. "Oh. Here, look."

Michael caught the apple left-handed and produced something from under his pillow. A scalpel? Lily raised her eyebrows as he cut the fruit in half, but he just shrugged. “How was the mayor.”

Lily finished her piece in three bites, twisting the stem wistfully between her fingers. “Seemed reasonable.”

Michael handed her the rest of his apple. “The other two might help us. His son, the girl.”

“Luke and Brenna,” she reminded him, chewing happily. “Maybe. Could you heal a little faster?”

He blinked. “I won’t slow you down.”

“No, that’s not…” Lily touched his arm. He looked at it, then at her, and she removed her hand with a stab of self-consciousness. “I know. I told him we’d get guns and medicine from Sierra Base. Maybe we do it, maybe we just go.”

Michael hesitated, still holding the little knife. “Is it the only way?”

“It’s the easiest. Maybe the safest, too. It’ll get us outside the wall. There’ll be horses.”

He’d been sitting up too long, she thought. His skin was greyish, his eyes shadowed. He ought to rest.

“You have a bullet in you,” she said instead, gesturing vaguely at his stomach. “Burnett told me earlier. Does it…I mean, we could ask her to…”

“Perform surgery in a log cabin, with no antibiotics?” Michael shrugged weakly. “Why not.”

He started to lie back down. Lily helped him. His fever had not returned; actually he felt too cold.

“We’ll get some from Sierra Base,” she said. “Burnett can take the bullet out and put a sense of humor in.”

Michael sighed. His eyes were already shut. “If it was necessary, the Coalition would’ve issued me one.”

Because he couldn’t see her, Lily let herself smile.

From the deep well of her anxiety a kernel of hope sprouted. He would be ok, and they would cross the mountains before it snowed; after everything else these last few hurdles seemed insignificant. The long journey was finally nearing its end.

Maybe everything would be all right.