ASUNDER (I) : tmr newt

17: I'm Worried

17 Leo

I was tasked with getting more paper from Winston so the Med-jacks can take one final bit of inventory before the day is up. We've been doing inventory for four hours now, if you forget the fact that we did inventory yesterday as well. And I assume every other day to ever happen.

At least, I was supposed to be getting paper for inventory. I did no such thing, not for any particular reason except that I can't manage to bring myself to ask exactly who Winston is, and where I can find him. Nothing I try to do is done right. Why does my own inadequacy swallow me whole?

Besides, Clint and Jeff won't miss me. The two are inseparable, and I feel as if I am causing some underlying tension every time I join them in a room. I get that I am not supposed to be here, but I thought I would at least some-what fit in with the two of them.

I wasn't mistaken, but that doesn't mean I was right.

"Med-jack!" I hear someone scream the words, as I glance around for their origin.

Just a ways east of where I stand on the porch of the Homestead, are the Gardens.

My feet step up off of the porch, as the eyes a boy or two flashes off of what they are building, moving towards me.

"Med-jack!" The same voice cries, and I can see a boy running towards me.

Builders are trickling in, all of them standing behind me, curiously peering towards the sound but not wanting to get involved. The boy who runs to me is coming from the Gardens. He is sprinting for the Homestead as fast as he can, and it takes a few seconds before my feet pick up speed, and I am running his way.

When I meet him in the center of the field, just north of the Box, he pants before stumbling past me. "A girl collapsed in the Gardens."

Shuck.

My feet carry me, thick and heavy boots pounding and tearing apart the dirt, as I get as closer to the Gardens. The young girl has collapsed in the Gardens. Or maybe it was Dawn coming to see her, or Michelle about to start a fight. I hope it was one of the ones I know for some odd reason, rather than the small defenseless girl. The one who can't even speak.

When I get there, a boy with black hair is kneeling in the dirt, holding on to something below him. It becomes apparent the closer I get that between the tomatoes lies the tiny girl, shaking. Her eyes are closed and she jerks up and down. Clenched fingers are at the end of her shaking hands, leading up to her head twisted on an angle.

"Don't touch her."

I know what this is. She is having a seizure. The memory of a seizure before this scratches at my mind, though I know I can't access it, and I don't care to try. It doesn't matter how I know what is happening, all that matters is that I know what to do next.

She thrashes and the vines tangle up around her.

I reach down into the dirt beneath her body, ripping apart the tomatoes. The Keeper doesn't stop me, only stands by and watches. If she is too close to the vines, they will strangle her. Who cares if a few tomato plants get destroyed in the process? If it means she can breathe, then that's a small sacrifice to pay.

"What's happening?" The Keeper asks over my shoulder.

"She's having a seizure." I tell him. "How long has this been happening?"

He shrugs, shaking his head. "I don't know? A minute."

"Time it from now on." I look over my shoulder. "We need to know how long it lasts.

The boy stares me down, a deer caught in headlights.

I look at him directly into his eyes. "Now."