Hello! It's been awhile! I recently got a new laptop to replace my very slow one and thought, "Yes, now I will update like a champ!" However, I discovered that the document manager on this site doesn't take kindly to copy 'n' paste from google docs, and all my formatting was lost. Soooo until I find a way to upload without losing all of my formatting or until I breakdown and buy another microsoft word, further updates might not be as forthcoming as I hoped.
Anyway! Here's the next chapter. Note that there are some parts in this that was responsible for the T rating. Also, I'm not a doctor nor do I play one on TV so I'm really making up a lot of the medical situations described. I do my best to research or pull from historical precedents, but beyond that I shrug my shoulders and say "Welp...they're martians, anything is possible!"
Happy reading!
Mackie threw down a card and smiled triumphantly at Theresa, his light eyes twinkling.
"I win!" he announced, poking Theresa playfully. Theresa made a face and tossed her cards aside. She pretended to pout but was inwardly pleased over Mackie's spark of vibrancy. She herself couldn't wait to see her older cousin and the joy and humor he would suffuse into the place.
"Well, good for you," she said to Mackie, gathering the cards. "I'll play Zebbie tonight and then I'll finally win something!"
"But I'll have to be on his side to help, since it'll be his first time playing," Mackie reasoned. Theresa complained but Mackie, smiling, ignored her and turned to Rayna who was sitting nearby.
All of them were seated on the floor in Johnny's indoor garden, inhaling the rare, earthy smell of the plants. Mackie and Theresa felt secure and at home in the place, and Rayna loved it because, to her mind, it was her first time seeing plants.
Rayna folded the last shirt on her lap and smoothed it done with a pat of finality. "There, all done," she said. Mackie looked at the clothes on her lap curiously.
"What are those, anyway?" he asked.
"They're hospital shirts and pants," Rayna explained. "Stoker found them in storage for me. They're soft and loose and will be better for the prisoners in case they need to stay in bed for awhile." Theresa reached over and stroked the white cloth.
"They are soft. Do you think Zebbie will need them?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know, but it's better to be prepared," Rayna replied with a shrug. Mackie grinned, thinking of his brother.
"Zebbie will be fine," he said, uncharacteristically confident. Everything else might come crashing down, but when Zebbie came everything would be alright. It always was. "Thrash says his old clothes are here, so he'll probably wear those. He likes blue."
"I see," Rayna said with a chuckle, reaching over to squeeze Mackie's shoulder. She sat back and gazed around at the green plants. "Hey Johnny! What is this plant?" she called, pointing to a commonly known plant nearby. Johnny looked around from where he had been quietly spraying water on the plants and named it. Rayna admired the blossoms and Theresa leaned conspiratorially toward Mackie.
"Hey, Mackie, we should sneak outside again and watch for them. Wouldn't that be fun?"
"No," Rayna interjected firmly, eyeing the girl. Theresa looked up and tried to paste on an angelic smile.
"You know you two aren't allowed out there," Johnny said mildly, inspecting the leaf of a nearby plant.
"Besides, we don't need to watch. I'll know it the minute he walks through the door," Mackie said, tapping his own antenna. Just then, his body stiffened and his face grew blank. He shot to his feet and bolted for the door, scattering cards behind him.
"What's wrong?" Rayna asked, rising to her feet.
"He's here! He's here!" Mackie yelled, charging up the steps. Theresa scrambled to her feet and followed, with Rayna and Johnny close behind. Mackie burst through the door, glanced around, and broke into a run. Theresa struggled to keep up and Rayna passed her, feeling inexplicably worried.
"Mackie…Mackie, wait!" she called. But why should he wait? she immediately thought to herself. A crowd was already forming as the freedom fighters returned. The newly freed prisoners came in first, supported by fighters and blinking in surprise. Vinnie rushed in, and Rayna felt a surge of joy upon seeing him alive and well. Her joy faded when he turned and caught another mouse before he fell. As Vinnie straightened, she could see that the mouse was Thrash.
"Thrash?" she called, concern in her voice. Thrash looked around and caught her eye. He glanced at a prisoner behind him, one who was being supported by Renee and the pilot Tyre.
"Jassi! Don't let Mackie…" Thrash stopped abruptly, his face twisting in pain. Rayna saw the prisoner behind him and immediately understood. She reached out and caught Mackie with one arm, clapping her other hand over his eyes.
"Hey! Lemme go! I want to see Zebbie!" Mackie cried, twisting in her arms. She angled him away and shouted to Johnny, who motioned for Theresa to stop. Theresa skidded to a halt and glanced up at Johnny, then tried to peer around him to see what was going on.
"What do I do?" Rayna called to no one in particular. Vinnie heard her and shifted Thrash's weight.
"Can you stitch a knife wound?" Vinnie asked. Thrash looked up and shook his head.
"No, don't worry about me, get the kids out and get…ow…get to Zebbie," Thrash said. Rayna clutched onto Mackie, torn. Johnny, took her shoulder and nodded comfortingly.
"Theresa and Mackie, go to your rooms or back to the plant room," Johnny ordered quietly. Theresa wrung her hands and Mackie struggled, glaring up at Johnny angrily.
"No! I want to see Zebbie!"
"Right now you're making it difficult for us to help him. You need to trust me," Johnny said, looking him firmly in the eyes. Mackie drew in a trembling breath and nodded. Theresa took his hand and the two of them went away. "Go to Zebbie," Johnny urged and Rayna took off toward her room to get her medical supplies.
Vinnie deposited Thrash as gently as possible on the examination table in the makeshift medic's room, grateful that Carbine had thought to call in a medic from a nearby base. Thrash scrunched his eyes shut, placing his hand over the thick bandages that were now soaked with blood. Vinnie steadied him with his hand, his heart pumping.
"It's gonna be okay, man, we'll get you some help," he said in the attempt to soothe, and turned to bellow, "Hey! Someone get in here!"
"I'm here," an older male mouse said, entering the room with a handful of plant pods. "Johnny sent these. Sheesh, Thrash, did you have to meet the only Plutarkian knife fighter on the planet?" Thrash shook his head and chuckled, then tensed.
"You crazy? Don't make him laugh!" Vinnie ordered with a scowl. The male calmly, but quickly, set up some instruments.
"Chill, Vin, I didn't mean to. Stop laughing, Thrash," he said.
"What are you going to do for him?" Vinnie demanded.
"First I'm going to get you out of here because you're making me nervous," the mouse began. "And then I'm going to check on some vital organs and laser him shut."
"Too bad, because I'm not going anywhere," Vinnie argued. Thrash raised his hand and rested it weakly on Vinnie's arm.
"No…go. Go to Zebbie. Help Rayna," Thrash said. Vinnie hesitated, met Thrash's eyes, and straightened.
"I'll be back, bro, don't go anywhere on me," Vinnie said, backing away. Thrash nodded, and Vinnie turned and ran. He met Rayna on the way and looped his arm through hers.
"Is Thrash okay?" Rayna asked. Vinnie nodded shortly and glanced over her medical kit and the hospital clothes that she had tucked under her arm.
"You know where Zebbie is?" Vinnie asked.
"I don't even know who Zebbie is but if he's that dark furred mouse who hardly looked alive, then yes, I think so," Rayna replied. Vinnie held his breath, his thoughts wild. Never did he think the day would end up like this. Rayna pointed to a room and Vinnie veered into it, stopping in his tracks. Zebbie had been placed on a makeshift bed and was deep in the throes of a coughing attack. Renee was trying to keep him from falling off of the bed, and Vinnie immediately rushed to Zebbie's other side, horrified by his appearance. Rayna remained rooted to the floor.
She knew that face.
He was a mess, hardly recognizable as a mouse, much less someone she knew. His fur and hair were darkened by dirt and dried blood, his clothes were in rags, and his body was not much more than a skeleton. His eyes were scrunched closed and his brow furrowed as he coughed. One side of his face was marred by a scar that was infected probably due to the terrible stitching job. Even now she could see that pieces of the stitches were still there, poking out through his skin. Despite all this…she knew that face, and was stabbed by a horrible feeling of sorrow for him.
"Ray…Jassi, do something," Renee said, looking over to see her. Zebbie began to choke, unable to breathe, but Rayna was at a loss.
"Jassi…" Vinnie said, trailing off as he looked at her pleadingly. Rayna snapped into action and sprang forward, pushing Vinnie aside. She slipped her arm underneath the back of Zebbie's neck and lifted him into sitting position. He continued to choke, and his eyes opened wide. A yellowish film covered his eyes, making the blue shine weirdly. Rayna grabbed a swab, forced his mouth open, and rubbed his throat. Zebbie gagged in surprise, and Rayna leaned him over. He gave a final cough and a clot of blood fell to the floor. Rayna felt a stab of fear, knowing that the clot was not a good sign, but pushed all emotion from her mind. Now was time to act. Zebbie fell back on the cot, breathing noisily, but able to breathe nonetheless. Rayna pushed her hair out of her eyes and heard a collective sigh of relief.
"Okay," Rayna said, assessing the situation now that the immediate danger was past. "We need to burn these disgusting clothes. They're probably crawling with contagion. I have a set of clothes here. Renee, can you get me some water? Get drinking water and water to scrub some of the wounds."
"On it," Renee said. Leaving, she nearly ran into Johnny who entered with an armful of the bulging pods. He dumped them into a bowl and began to work without saying a word.
"Can you help me?" Rayna asked Vinnie, and the two of them pulled off Zebbie's rotted clothes. Rayna turned away to dispose of the rags and Vinnie slipped the soft pants on him. She looked back when he drew in a sharp breath.
"Look at this," he said in a low voice. She looked to see that Vinnie had tilted him into sitting position. The three of them gazed at the angry red whiplashes that crisscrossed his back. Many of them had opened due to his rough transportation from the cell. Rayna looked at Vinnie to see him shaking with fury, and then over to Johnny.
"Will we have enough of the pod medicine?" Rayna asked. Johnny shook his head.
"No, but I'll dilute it with a little water and we'll dip the bandages directly in. I don't want to rub anything straight on the wounds anyway," he said rationally.
"If I ever get my hands on those slimy Plutarkians…" Vinnie threatened with a growl. Johnny agreed inwardly, but knew that words were useless. Just then, Renee rushed in with a bowl of water in one hand and a large glass of it in another, set it on a table, and rushed back out the room. Rayna shrugged and the three of them began to work. Johnny mashed the pods together and dropped a little water in while Rayna gently washed the dirt away from Zebbie's wounds. Vinnie cut strips of bandage and handed it to Johnny who dipped it in the mix and worked with Rayna to wrap them around Zebbie's torso. Vinnie tried to pour water into Zebbie's mouth, relieved when he drank thirstily and concerned when some of it trickled out of his mouth.
Just as they were finishing and Rayna was laying him back down to rest, voices were heard in the hall.
"Thrash, you can't go in there, you nearly died from blood loss. You need to rest!"
"Like I can really rest right now, Renee. The doc fixed me up, I'm fine." Rayna straightened as Thrash appeared in the doorway, looking tired and leaning against the doorframe.
"How is he?" he asked immediately, looking at his cousin in concern. Vinnie eyed Thrash and saw that he was wrapped in a thin layer of clean bandage. Rayna sighed and gestured for him to look.
"He's really sick and injured, but I think we've done all that we can right at this minute. We can wash him more thoroughly later. I don't want to put him through too much," she explained. Johnny set his medicine mix aside and headed for the door.
"I'm going to make some soup for him," he told the rest. Vinnie tilted his head.
"Soup? Heck, make him a whole dinner, this kid hasn't eaten in weeks. He'll wake up to eat it eventually, right?" Vinnie reasoned.
"If I do that, he'll die," Johnny said patiently. Vinnie raised his eyebrows and Thrash concurred.
"He hasn't eaten in weeks. If he eats too much at once now, it'll probably kill him. I've seen it happen," Thrash said faintly, his eyes fixed on Zebbie's face. Johnny left and Thrash pressed a palm against his cousin's cheek. Zebbie's eyes fluttered open and Thrash leaned down.
"Hey, Zebbie, can you hear me?" he asked soothingly. He was sickened at the strange film that covered his eyes, and realized that the yellowish color contrasting with Zebbie's natural blue was what probably made them stand out so much in the darkness of the prison. Zebbie stared at the ceiling, not focused on anything in particular, and then let his eyes slide shut. To Thrash's dismay, a look of absolute despair passed over Zebbie's face before it smoothed into the blankness of sleep. While Thrash puzzled over this, Rayna nudged him.
"Come on out and I'll tell you what happened," she urged quietly. All of them filed out and Renee tried to support Thrash as they spoke. After Rayna had explained everything, Thrash nodded, thanked Rayna, and despite Renee's protestations, returned to sit by Zebbie. Renee started to follow, touched her face, and then went to check on the other prisoners. Vinnie and Rayna were left alone.
"You did good today Jassi…Jassi?" Vinnie looked at her in concern and drew in his breath to see that her hands were covered in Zebbie's blood. He reached out and touched her arm. "Hey, we should probably get you cleaned up. Jassi?" he said hesitantly. Rayna looked up at him blankly and then down at her hands and nodded.
Vinnie led her to a small bathroom of sorts with a basin for washing hands if absolutely necessary. He reached out and turned on the water, and then glanced at Rayna who was standing still with her arms limply at her side.
"Uh, Jassi? You…uh…wanna get cleaned up?" Rayna remained still. Vinnie's glanced wavered and he tentatively cupped her hands in his and held them under the water. He rubbed at her hands a bit, trying to get them clean as his mind scrambled to find something to say. Rayna stared at the trickling water and at her hands. The image blurred with tears and she slowly let her head drop forward until her forehead was pressed against his chest. Emotionally spent, she began to cry, and then sob in a way that she had never done before.
Vinnie paused and then fumbled with the tap until the water was turned off. He watched her, completely at a loss for what to do.
Rayna cried. She cried for that poor guy who was broken beyond belief, she cried for little Mackie whose hopes were crushed, she cried because there were faces in her mind that came out of nowhere and that were nameless mysteries to her. She cried for a life that was stolen, and for all the lives that were stolen by this brutal war. Vinnie, feeling her hot tears in his fur, swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around her, holding tightly to his friend.
Quite some time later, Vinnie closed the door to Zebbie's room and sighed with frustration. Rayna hadn't said a word as to what prompted her to cry like that, instead, she pulled herself together, dried her tears, and insisted that she check on Zebbie and the other former prisoners. Vinnie shook his head and jumped when a voice called his name. The doorknob slipped from his fingers and the door bounced open a few inches.
"Oh, hey Renee," he greeted quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone inside. Renee smiled wearily.
"Hey. Thrash still in there?" she questioned.
"Yeah, but he looks alright. The medic who fixed him up did a good job. The knife didn't hit any vital organs," Vinnie explained. Renee nodded and looked away. "So, Renee…what happened anyway?" Renee sighed and lowered her head, as if in embarrassment.
"Oh, it's a long story. Just a run in with an, uh, enemy I suppose. The rat really wanted to get to me." She touched her face, which was bruised and swollen. "It's all my fault, really."
"How is it your fault?" Vinnie asked. Renee dropped her hands.
"Oh…just…it just is. Don't worry about it," she said tersely. Vinnie shrugged and Renee folded her arms. "So you leaving now?" she asked. Vinnie raised his eyebrows.
"Leaving? Why?"
"Well, you said you'd come to find Thrash and help get Zebbie out, and you did. So are you going?" Renee demanded to know. Vinnie, surprised that he hadn't even thought about it, looked at the gap formed by the partially open door.
"Uh…I don't know. I guess I should, huh. But…Zebbie's really sick, isn't he? Maybe…well, I don't know. I'll contact Throttle tonight," Vinnie said uneasily, realizing that he hadn't contacted Earth in quite some time. Renee nodded in assent.
"Good idea." She touched her face again and hesitated. "I think I'm going to go get a little rest. I'll be back though. Call me if anything happens." Vinnie waved her off and frowned when he heard her muttering distinctively to herself: "Boy, I bet I could scare small children right about now."
Vinnie watched her go thoughtfully and, remembering that the door had been open, closed it. He turned and began to walk down the hall, and then stopped short. Mackie stood forlornly at the end of the hall, watching Vinnie with sad eyes. Vinnie could feel his heart break for the kid, for in the chaos he had been forgotten. He took a few steps forward and tried to speak, but Mackie beat him to it.
"Zebbie isn't going to be playing cards tonight, is he," Mackie said in more of a statement than a question. Vinnie reached out and placed his hands on the boy's thin shoulders.
"No, Mackie. Not tonight."
Renee sat out on the edge of a boulder near the base, leaning back on her hands and dangling her feet. Her ribs ached and her shins were tender to the touch, but the dizziness had mostly gone away. Her head pounded if she moved too quickly, but popping a few pills took care of that. She had seen her face in a mirror and had grimaced, for her cheek was swollen and her face bruised. It would fade soon, hopefully.
However, her wounds weren't all physical. She would never forget the sight of that rat stabbing Thrash, nor would she forget the look on his face when he realized what was happening. She knew deep down that the whole incident wasn't really her fault. She didn't mean for the rat to be sent to the prison or be consumed by anger and revenge. She didn't mean for him to survive and stab the one she loved. But deep down, she felt a guilt and shame that probably extended far beyond the events today and in the past few weeks.
She studied her hands in the moonlight. Strange, Rayna was the one to have blood on her hands, but she knew that the girl was as innocent as the day she was born. Renee was the one who really had blood on her hands, even though it was unseen. Who would she have been if this war hadn't intervened?
"How did I turn into this?" she murmured, covering her face. Soft footsteps behind her caused her to jump. She tensed instinctively and relaxed when she saw Thrash standing a few feet away. Renee rose to her feet, her relaxation changing into nervousness again when it sunk in that it was actually Thrash. He stood there silently, wearing a thin white button up shirt and loose jeans, both of which put minimal pressure on his wound. Renee felt her cheeks redden, partly from the unexpected realization of how handsome he looked and partly from the shame of her own appearance and her part in his pain that day. Her eyes lowered and landed on the thick bandage visible through the shirt, and she felt even worse. She hugged herself and cleared her throat, her face still averted.
"You seem to be doing well," she said, trying to sound as normal and aloof as possible. Thrash didn't answer, but instead walked closer to her. Renee eyed him with inexplicable anxiety. He stood over her, his deep brown eyes resting on her face. She glanced up, suddenly wanting to touch the thick hair that framed his face. Where did that come from? Before she could say another word, Thrash leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Renee's eyes flew open and then closed when he wrapped his arms around her. A feeling of security and love washed over her, sweeping away the shame and breaking down the walls that were built around her heart. Thrash broke the kiss and leaned back. He cupped her bruised face in his hands and lifted her face.
"You are beautiful, inside and out," he whispered seriously. "And I'm so glad that you're safe." Renee held his eyes with hers, not trusting herself to speak. Finally, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. Thrash encircled her waist with his arms again, and they held each other in the dark of the night.
Inside, Rayna dozed in her chair and Zebbie slept fitfully, his shallow breathing broken by fits of coughing, and his brow still drawn in pain and fear.