TWENTY-ONE

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Thomas sat down next to me on the bed inside what I assumed to be the medical tent, while Brenda was placed on a bed next to us.

Another woman approached me and told me to remove my jacket and shirt. I did as she said, leaving on the olive green top I was wearing under my shirt. I protectively hid the small bump by placing an arm in front of it as the nurse sat beside me.

"My name is Esther. Can you tell me yours?" she chatted while she disinfected the wound with a stinging liquid. 

"It's Leah," I muttered. A hiss left my mouth as a droplet of the liquid entered the wound.

"Sorry, this can sting like a bitch." I chuckled at her attempt to crack a joke. I found Thomas smiling. "Shut up." 

"The bullet's still in there. I'm going to have to remove it." She injected a clear liquid into my shoulder, I instantly knew it was an anaesthetic because the skin surrounding the wound numbed after a few seconds.

Esther grabbed a pair of forceps from her bag and sat in front of my shoulder, getting a good view before she entered the wound and pulled out the bullet in one swift movement. I let out a groan and balled up the blanket laying on the bed. "You okay?" she asked, dabbing the fresh blood with a cloth. I nodded and blinked away the tears.

"Okay, I'm quickly going to stitch it up and you'll be good to go." She patted my knee and I smiled gratefully. She quickly and almost painlessly stitched up the wound and wrapped a bandage around my shoulder.

While Esther had been working on my shoulder, Thomas had been attached to a machine that drained a small amount of blood from his arm. The doctor from earlier entered again after a while and felt Brenda's forehead. "In the beginning, we were lost. The only thing we knew is that the younger you were, the higher your chances," She spoke. 

"You worked for Wicked?" Thomas asked. The woman hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"A long time ago," she replied. "At first, we had the best intentions. Find a cure, save the world." She started fiddling with some flasks and glass containers with red and transparent liquids in them. "We knew you kids were the key because you were immune. The question was, why?" she asked no one. "Eventually, we found an answer. An enzyme produced by the brain made you immune. Once separated from the bloodstream, it can provide a powerful agent to slow the spread of the virus."

Thomas perked up. "So you found a cure?" 

The woman smiled sadly. "Not exactly. The enzyme can't be manufactured. Only harvested from the immune, the young." She sighed to herself before drawing a greenish liquid she created into a syringe. "Of course that didn't stop Wicked. If they had to, they'd sacrifice a whole generation. All, for this." She held up the syringe.

"A gift of biology, of evolution. Only not meant for all of us." She injected the liquid into Brenda's arm. Her hitching and rapid breathing steadied as soon as the serum entered her bloodstream. 

"How long will that give her?" I asked. 

"It differs for everyone, a few months, maybe," the woman replied and I looked down, nodding sadly. "But that's the catch, isn't it? She'll always need more," she sighed. "Okay, let's go outside, give them some rest." She got up and patted Jorge's shoulder. "She'll be fine, don't worry."

"We'll keep an eye on her," I smiled at him and he sent me a thin smile back.

"Thomas." He turned around to face the doctor. "You know she can't come with us." His eyes averted to the floor and slowly, he nodded. She smiled sadly and left the tent. 

Thomas turned to me. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, taking my hands in his.

"Okay, I think. My shoulder will be better soon if you're talking about that," I smiled. 

"Good." He nodded. "And the baby?" 

"They're fine, at least, I think so," I said. 

Thomas let go of my hands and knelt down in front of me, leaning his chin on my knees. "Hey there, kid," he started. "How's it going in there? Are you being nice to your mom?" A smile played on my lips as I ran my fingers through his hair. "Did you know that your mom is a real badass? She took a bullet today and she's totally fine, how cool is that?" 

I let out a joyous laugh. "I mean, it wasn't completely voluntarily, but we'll be alright, won't we?" I patted my stomach. 

"I can't wait to meet them," Thomas mumbled softly, looking up to meet my eyes. 

"Me neither," I smiled. Thomas got up.

"I love you." He leaned in and captured my lips with his. 

I giggled and muttered a quick, "I love you too," before shutting him up and kissing him deeply. I pulled back after what felt like hours to catch my breath, my forehead leaning against his. 

"We should head outside, see where the others are," I huffed and reluctantly got up. Thomas heaved himself in his jacket again but stopped mid-action as his eye fell on something near Brenda. He reached down and grabbed a small tin container that had been laying next to her. 

I leaned my chin on his shoulder and watched along as he opened it. A picture of a young boy was taped inside. He looked a lot like Brenda.

"It was my brother," Brenda's voice said and I looked down to find her awake. 

Thomas quickly handed her the container back. "Hey, I'm sorry, how are you feeling?" He sat on the bed next to her. She smiled sadly as she ran her thumb over the picture. 

"You remind me of him, he always tried to see the good in people." She smiled at the memory of him and rolled on her side. 

"Where is he now?" I asked softly, squatting down on the ground. 

"I don't know." Her eyes looked away. "When we were kids, our parents brought us to one of Wicked's camps. They gave us a bunch of tests, but they didn't want me. They wanted him though." A tear fell from the corner of her eye as her bottom lip started to tremble. "They didn't even let me say goodbye." 

"I'm sorry, Bren." I placed a comforting hand on her leg.

"What was his name?" Thomas asked. 

A small smile lingered on her lips as she said, "George."

Thomas reached down and took something from his pocket, Chuck's white man. I felt a pang in my heart as I looked at it. He handed it to Brenda. "That was Chuck's." I wiped a stray tear from my cheek and Thomas took my hand. 

"How did he die?" Brenda mumbled softly as if she was afraid to ask. 

Thomas smiled to himself. "Saving my life." 

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