Chapter 13: Eyes Open

Casey was quite proud of her makeshift bed for Etta. After sweeping aside the ammo on one of the camp beds, Casey had simply laid Etta down on the canvas in her blanket. No pillow though, Anne had informed Casey there was a self-smothering hazard with infants and pillows - a fact that an already paranoid Casey was not happy to have learned.

With Etta sleeping, Casey turned her attention to checking out the ammo she'd tossed aside. Despite her growing confidence with guns, she didn't touch the ones around her. The last thing she needed to do in the midst of her weapons training was accidentally fire off a round with a baby beside her.

Casey found a box of the same bullets Pope had her load into her pistol. She took one out and let it roll around in her palm. Then she picked up a box of shotgun shells and took one out, comparing the two bullets. Though she wasn't even sure the shell constituted a bullet; was it just called a shell? Or a round? She'd have to ask someone.

Her ammo musings were interrupted by Tom and Hal returning from the bridge. Matt was with them, but he stayed put in the tent way on guard. "Welcome back," Casey said in a hushed voice, gesturing to the baby in hopes they would keep quiet. "How bad is the hole in the bridge?"

"Bad," Hal unstrapped his rifle from his back and took a seat. "But fixable. Jamil thinks we can repair it enough to get everyone across the river."

"And then what?" Casey asked. "Do we even know what's over the river or are we going in blind?"

"Blind," Hal grinned. "Of course."

"Ben and Jimmy are headed over tonight to check it out," Tom interjected, stretching out his back before he sat down on the campbed opposite his son. "Actually," he cleared his throat. "Casey, could you give Hal and I a moment alone?"

Casey shook her head. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not," She loosened Etta's blanket a little around her neck. "Took me forever to get this the baby to sleep." She glanced up at Tom whose expression was stern; unamused. "But I sense you're insisting."

Tom gave her a terse smile. "Thank you."

Casey gathered up Etta, trying not to wake her as she moved outside past Matt and left the Masons to whatever domestic trouble they were having. Best way to avoid drama was to avoid drama. Etta's little eyelids flickered and she shifted her head a few times, but she didn't wake up. Problem was, Casey didn't like her chances of walking the baby all the way through the midday noise of the camp to their tent without something startling Etta awake.

But as it turned out, it wasn't anything of Casey's doing that brought Etta out of her nap. What woke the her was Matt, who Casey heard scream out from behind her: "Dr. Glass! There's something wrong with my Dad!"

Casey spun around and backtracked to Weaver's tent. Inside she saw Hal kneeling on the ground between the camp beds hunched over the twitching body of his father. Matt looked helplessly at Casey. She could read in his eyes that he was looking to her for what to do, she was the adult. "Matt here," Casey loaded Etta into the boy's arms. "You hang onto her while I help your father, okay?"

Inside the tent, Hal was struggling to lift his dad up off the ground. Casey rushed to Tom's other side and looped his arm over her shoulder. Together Casey and Hal got Tom standing. She felt the intensity of Tom's fever when his head dropped against her cheek. He was trembling, and mumbling incoherently. His weakened legs made it difficult for him to stand, so Casey and Hal basically had to drag him up out of the tent towards the medic bus.

Etta was crying, and Matt looked like he might join her. "Is he going to be okay?" Matt asked his brother as he watched his father being dragged past. "What's wrong with him?"

"He'll be fine, Matt," Hal tried to assure him. "Just sit tight with Etta, okay?"

Halfway to the bus, Weaver came jogging up behind Casey and Hal. "Jesus!" Weaver added his strength to carrying Tom. "What the hell happened?"

"His eye started bleeding," Hal said as the trio plodded up the ramp into the med-bus. "Then he just dropped."

Tom gained better use of his legs as Casey and Hal led him inside the bus, but he still struggled. Casey had to hold a hand to his chest to stop him from tipping forwards; he looked so weak. But before he had looked basically fine. Tired, but fine. What the hell had happened in a matter of minutes?

Anne was already prepared. Casey didn't know how she'd got everything together so fast, but she had. Maybe she had heard Matt and stayed put in the bus to get supplies together while Tom was brought in. Whatever the reason, she was ready when they arrived. "Set him up here," Anne pointed at the empty gurney in the centre of the bus and reached for clean latex gloves.

The impact of Casey, Hal and Weaver hefting Tom onto the gurney startled him awake. He blinked a few times, clearly puzzled. But when he caught sight of his son, he reached out and grabbed at his collar. "Hal! Did I hurt you?"

"No, Dad, you didn't," Hal told him gently. "Just keep calm, alright?"

Anne leant over Tom and tilted his face towards hers so she could inspect his eyes with a penlight. "Tom, you collapsed. But you're gonna be fine."

"My eye," Tom groaned and reached for his face. "Dammit, it hurts like hell."

"Don't touch it, Tom." The doctor swatted Tom's hand away. "Casey, push here," Anne placed Casey's hands on Tom's shoulders. "Keep him as still as you can."

Casey nodded and pushed her weight down on Tom's shoulders. From this angle, she could see the white of his left eye was wet and bloodied. It looked painful, like he'd stuck himself with something.

Anne snatched a bottle of antiseptic from Lourdes, pausing briefly as she held it above Tom's eye. "This is gonna sting." She warned.

"Just do it." Tom grunted through clenched teeth.

Anne locked eyes with Casey who adjusted her grip on Tom so she firmly had him pinned, then the doctor poured the antiseptic right into Tom's eye. He howled in pain and lurched forwards trying to both sit up and grab at his eye at the same time. But Weaver had a strong hold of Tom's legs and Casey and Lourdes had enough control of his upper body to keep him on the gurney.

Anne swapped the antiseptic bottle for her penlight and peered into Tom's eye again. She flicked the light back and forth a couple of times and then pulled back a little. "Do you see that?" Anne asked Lourdes. "Lodged in his sclera."

Casey saw it. It looked like a really thick, crooked eyelash was stuck in the white of Tom's eye. "What is it?"

"Could be a cyst?" Lourdes offered.

"Like some kind of growth?" Weaver guessed.

Anne shook her head. "No, it wasn't there when I examined him this morning."

Casey thought it was a trick of her own eye when she saw the thick eyelash worm across Tom's pupil. "It's moving." She said in surprise.

"Take it out!" Tom exclaimed rearing forwards again. This time, Casey lost her grip but Weaver was behind her in a second and helped push Tom back down.

"Hang on, alright?" Anne held a hand to Tom's cheek and tried to soothe him. "You don't know what this involves. If I take it out, you could lose sight in your eye."

"Fine, I'll take it out." Tom pitched forwards and frantically tried to claw at his eye.

Casey tried to grab Tom's flailing arms but eventually had to lean over him to keep his scrambling hands from being able to reach his eye.

Anne turned around to her tray of tools and picked up a pair of sharp tweezers. "Lourdes, get a specimen jar. Dan, hold his shoulders. Casey, hold his head."

Weaver moved up and took over from Casey who shifted and held Tom's head between her palms. She had a perfect view for the procedure. Anne's expression was focused and unnerved; she showed no sign of agitation. It was as though she'd performed this type of thing all the time. But considering she had detached harnesses from kid's backs, Casey figured a tiny whatever-it-was in someone's eye was a cakewalk. Even so, it was hard for Casey to watch as Anne waited for the little black squiggle to flick out of Tom's eye just a millimetre, then the doctor snapped it with the tweezers and pulled. But it did not want to come out.

Casey felt sick to her stomach watching Anne pull on the thing as though it were a stretching rubber band. Anne gave the tweezers and tug and the little black squiggly thing finally came out of Tom's eye. Lourdes was ready with the specimen jar and capped the lid on it as soon as Anne dropped the thing inside. It was some sort of creature. It was about an inch long, had legs like a centipede and scuttled around the jar looking for a way out. Casey couldn't hide her disgust and was relieved to see she wasn't the only one. Lourdes, Anne, Weaver and even Tom were all staring at the critter circling around in the jar. And Casey could tell by their expressions that they were all thinking the same thing that she was: that eyeworm had been with Tom since he stepped off the alien ship.

With Tom under Anne's careful supervision, Casey left the med-bus and found Matt sitting outside on a milk crate with Etta in his arms. She'd stopped crying, but did not look happy. Matt looked pretty glum himself as he let Casey take the baby back. "Will my Dad be okay?" he asked Casey.

"I think so," Casey tried to give him a comforting smile. "He's awake now, I'm sure Dr. Glass will let you see him really soon." Matt didn't look assured by her words, even Etta starting whinging. "Thank you for watching Etta for me." Matt gave her a little smile, but nothing more.

Casey ran her hand through his hair and left him be. One of his siblings would be along soon enough to sit with him. Or maybe, like Casey, Matt just preferred to be left alone. A tough thing for someone in his position, the baby of a close-knit family all desperate to keep him safe.

Across the way from Weaver's tent, Casey noticed Pope sitting at their training area by the river. He was messing around with his guns, and it hit Casey that she had completely forgotten they were supposed to have a session. Tom and his eyeworm had been somewhat distracting.

"Hey," Casey greeted Pope, attempting to appear nonchalant as she wandered over. "Sorry I'm late."

"Did you forget we had training?" Pope asked as he clicked the chamber of his gun back into place. "Wasn't it one of your rules to be punctual?"

He was teasing her, as he had when she had first laid down the rules of their training. "Yes, unless there was an emergency," Casey reminded him. "And there was. Tom collapsed."

Pope glanced at her but didn't look visibly concerned. "How dramatic."

"It was, actually," Casey said. "Anne pulled a thing out of his eye."

Pope looked somewhat amused. "A thing?"

"An alien thing," Casey said, shaking her head to dislodge the memory of that gross little worm. "I thought she was gonna pull his eye out-" She stopped short when she realized Pope was staring at her. "What?"

"Alien thing?" Pope shot to his feet and brushed right passed Casey's shoulder. "Training's off."

"Where are you going?" Casey turned to follow him and saw him slide his handgun into the back of his jeans. "Pope?"

"Course beamers blew up the bridge," Pope muttered angrily as he walked towards Weaver's tent. "They knew we were here because The Professor is still hooked up to them."

Casey almost had to jog to keep up with him and kept both her hands secured around Etta. It dawned on her that telling Pope about the eyeworm was not the smartest thing to have done. Tom and Pope's relationship was tense on its best days; and she had just given Pope another reason not to trust Tom. "Then why didn't the beamers just destroy the camp?" Casey asked him in an attempt to settle him down. "If they sent Tom back here with a tracker in his brain, why blow up the bridge and not us?"

"They don't want to kill us," Pope said over his shoulder. "They want to follow us."

"You know you sound crazy, right?"

Pope stopped, and turned to face her. "I sound crazy? You just told me you pulled a bug out of Mason's brain. That sound normal to you?" He spun back around and marched right over to Weaver who was standing with Hal out the front of the medic bus. Casey was happy to notice that Matt was no longer waiting around, and hoped he was out of earshot. "Hey, Captain," Pope called. "I heard they pulled a circuit board out of Tom's head. Is that true?

Weaver looked from Pope to behind him where Casey was standing, and then he shared a look with Hal. "We don't know what it is." He said evenly. "Dr. Glass has removed it. The scouts should be back any minute, Pope. Report to the C.P. in ten."

Pope didn't answer him. But he didn't move. "You're not taking him across that river with us." Pope said in a low voice. "It's not gonna happen."

"He's unarmed," Weaver replied carefully. "And in restraints. The situation is under control."

"The hell it is!" Pope's voice rose. "He could still be wired direct to skitter central. Now, I'm sorry, but you should have put a bullet in the back of his hand the second he turned to walk onto that ship."

The silence between them was palpable. Casey's heart rate sped up and dread came over her; if Pope tried something stupid here it would be because she told him about Tom. And what was Weaver talking about restraints? Tom had been simply resting when she had left the med-bus.

"I wanna see him." Pope took a step forwards whilst reaching for the back of his jeans.

"Hey!" Hal and Weaver had their guns drawn and aimed in a flash as did Pope.

Pope and Hal swapped glares across the top of their weapons. "Two guns against one?" Pope smirked. "That's hardly fair."

"Actually it's three against one, Pope," Anthony said as he rounded in behind Casey, his rifle pointed straight at Pope's back. "Walk softly."

"Anthony," Pope smiled and hung his head, but he relented with his gun and slid it back into his jeans. "You're a disappointment. I thought I was having a positive influence on you."

Weaver lowered his weapon and pushed Hal's arm down, then took four slow strides towards Pope so they were face to face. "There is nothing that I would like better than to truss you up and leave you here," Weaver growled. "Be thankful that we need you and your band of degenerates. For now, get out of my sight."

Casey felt a pang in her already tense chest at the insult; she liked those degenerates.

"Don't kid yourself, Captain." Pope said keeping a steady glare with Weaver as he backed off. "Sooner or later you're gonna have to deal with that human lo-jack you have in there." With that, he turned his back on all of them.

As Pope left, Hal approached Casey. He seemed offended. "You told him?"

Casey gave him a limp shrug of her shoulders. "I-I didn't realize I wasn't supposed to. I didn't know he would do that."

"That's what he does." Weaver said clenching his fists at his sides as he watched Pope walk away. Then the Captain looked to Casey, his eyes concerned. "You'd best remember that."