The Shelter

Part 4 - The Gaunt

xx-xx

She'd been lucky, she was told. They found her three days since she'd left, on the brink of death due to hunger, dehydration, and blood loss. She shouldn't have survived.

She should be dead.

But she wasn't.

She still had to pay some price though. She'd miss her three fingers.

They'd been mangled by the weight. They managed to save her thumb, which had escaped the crushing part, and her pointer finger, which was just slightly crooked. Unfortunately, there was no way of saving the others, the blood flow had been completely cut off for days. Apart from that, she'd broken a bone in her hand, but it had been put back in its right place. For now, her hand was completely taped up and attached to a wooden block, to stop her from causing more damage. They didn't have a cast, so it was the best they could do. It still felt like she could move her missing fingers, but she remembered reading something for school about that being normal.

They'd have to keep her in the infirmary for a while, to check for crush syndrome symptoms. And just to add the cherry on top of that, it was her shooting hand.

At least I'm alive, she consoled herself.

People visited her. Oberon told her of how Flair was out nearly every hour every day searching for her and how he'd eventually realised where she could've gone as he remembered banning her from her mom a while back. They heard her talking in through their Helmet when they approached the area, but it was hard to pinpoint where she was. They had to search for her location by hacking into her Helmet which Spencer had managed to figure out. Once located, it was still a question of how they would be getting her without alerting the X's. Oberon, Spencer, and Katie, an old policewoman who had experience on how to navigate the broken buildings safely, were the ones to dig her up. It was ugly, and they came close to a couple X's two or three times, but they got her back alive.

Oberon berated her, but the happy tears ruined his sternness. In the end, he was just glad the death toll hadn't gone up by one.

Pandora was the next one to visit her. She hugged Karma for a solid hour, crying silently in her shirt. Eventually, Pandora apologised.

"What for, baby Panda?" Karma asked softly, tucking one of the small girl's stray hairs behind her ear.

"I'm sorry about your fingers," Pandora told her, head bowed. "I really tried, but I couldn't do anything."

Oh god, Pandora worked in the infirmary. Pandora had done the surgery.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Karma told her, absolutely horrified.

"It's okay, I'm just glad the rest of your hand survived," Pandora told her through sniffles. "We thought we might have to amputate your whole hand at some point. I was so worried."

Eventually, Flair burst in, demanding her own turn, fighting with Carrie for who was next. They compromised on doing it at the same time, which ended with Karma being completely squashed under the bodies of two full-grown women.

"Glad to see you guys too," Karma chuckled, joy and love filling every inch of her body. "Thank you for searching for me."

"You bet," Flair declared. "As if we'd abandon you. We're family now."

Karma might've forgotten how to breathe for a second.

"Yeah," she whispered in awe. "We're family."

Carrie ruffled her hair with a smile that reassured Karma that everything in life would right itself out, that as long as they were together, they'd be stronger. "Yep. You better lick my shoes clean in reverence."

Karma rolled her eyes. As if she could call those damaged plastics on her feet shoes. They were barely recognisable, an old memory of green high tops.

"Of course, milady," Karma smirked, joining in when they started laughing.

Dark, fingers, pain, dark, GETOUT, monster, dark, dark, pain, fingers, gonegone, PAIN

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She should be using the opportunity to smile. Her instincts were telling her that it was only going to get worse.

The others picked up on her mood and their faces went all serious. Karma looked at them properly. Carrie with her gentle eyes, matted blonde hair, and her studs still in her ears because when the X day happened, she had just gotten them pierced and was still scared that not enough time had passed before she was allowed to take them out (which was completely irrational). Flair with her unevenly chopped hair, the lower part still red from when it was dyed, and her weird amount of knowledge about plants and her silly optimism which kept them going.

Karma brought her arm up to wipe some dirt on Flair's cheek, only to dry heave when she caught sight of her red-tinted bandages on her hand. Would she ever get used to it?

Carrie patted her on the back whilst Flair grabbed some water. Once Karma was done, she spat into the bucket next to her bed, taking big gulps from the offered water bottle.

"There, there," Carrie reassured her, her fingers writing imaginary letters on her back.

"Sorry," Karma apologised, her voice scratchy.

"I'm going to tell Spencer he can come in now," Flair told them, walking towards the door. Karma was glad for the swift change of subject. She didn't want to think about it for a couple of years, thanks.

"Hey, kiddo," a deep voice spoke.

"I'm like, a year younger than you," Karma told him flatly.

"So small!" Karma dodged the hands aiming for her cheeks.

"Go to hell," she grumbled, but the smile on her face contradicted her. "How are you?"

"Peachy," he sat down on the bed, next to her, pulling a face when it creaked under the added weight. "I haven't slept in a few hours."

Karma winced.

"Yeah, that's kind of my fault," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"Nah, don't apologies," he sent a wave over to Flair and Carrie when they walked out of the room. Karma followed his example, smiling when Carrie mouthed 'see you later'. "It's kind of my job to worry about you guys."

Karma blushed, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. She was infinitely glad to have found these people, who'd do so much for her without being asked to. She hugged him, breathing him in. He didn't smell good at all, but it was the scent of dust and sweat and humanness that reassured her he was here in front of her and she was out of that dark prison.

"When's dinner?" she asked when her stomach grumbled in protest.

"They'd rather keep you here the whole night, but I think I might be able to convince them if I promise them that we'll stay with you the whole evening and night."

"Thank you," she rushed out. "That'd- that'd be wonderful."

In the end, she wasn't allowed because she needed to be administered painkillers regularly and her symptoms monitored. She knew deep down that she'd probably also sleep really badly and it was better if her family didn't turn into insomniacs because of her.

Her family.

It felt nice to have one again.