A Hero In The Dark

Chapter 126: How I Survive

I grit my teeth through the entire process, never letting go of John's hand in my right while Malcolm runs the procedure on my left.

It is just the three of us in the academy infirmary. Malcolm, John, and I. As I requested it be. All but Pixie of whom Malcolm preferred to have wait outside; I suppose he didn't want any interruptions. That's fine. Pixie will be fine with Nine. Me on the other hand?

I can only hope the same.

"Is it- is it done yet?" I ask, my cheeks wet and stinging with tears.

Malcolm offered to put me under anesthesia so I wouldn't feel any pain, but I refused it. It's not that I don't trust Malcolm – I do – it's just that there are memories that I want to forget. And being unconscious while undergoing an operation like this, will only encourage them to stay.

So, he had a ribbon tied to my arm. Just above my elbow short of where he would be inserting the device. Tight enough to stop the blood flow. That alone is enough to hold my breath.

Until he took a scalpel and made a small incision at my forearm.

I try not to look at the blood or the sharp tool or even Malcolm's surgical mask or gloved hands. I only stare at John. Only stare and breathe and squeeze his hand when it feels worse.

Malcolm does not tell me how much longer this will take, nor does he say much at all, as focused as he is on the procedure. So, John replies for him.

"Almost there Emily," he says. "Just keep your eyes on me."

As much as it hurts, I do.

Instead of closing my eyes and biting my lip, I stare into John's eyes of the purest ocean blue. My chest is thumping heavily. My lungs taking in more and more air with every second that passes.

I know I can get through it though. As Nine said earlier, legacies or no legacies, I am one hell of a fighter. I have not gone through shit to give up to a simple chip implantation.

"Beginning insertion now," Malcolm states, his voice somewhat muffled through the mask yet levelled with concentration at the same time.

"Alright Em. This is gonna hurt," John says, watching me and me alone while he brings a hot towel to my forehead to dab away beads of sweat.

"Try to remain still as much as you can," Malcolm adds.

I nod and suck in a breath, which quickly turns into multiple held breaths. All while I watch Malcolm in my peripherals bring a pair of forceps carrying a tiny silver device no larger than a thumbnail closer to the slit in my arm.

Only then do I allow myself to shut my eyes, focusing solely on the feeling of John's fingers interlocked through mine.

This is what I agreed to.

This is how we stop the Foundation. This is what will get my legacies back. This is our plan if anything goes wrong or if everything goes right.

This is how I survive.

A metallic chip surgically implanted in my left arm providing a tracking signal when active. Hidden from the human eye underneath my skin.

I let out a stifled cry when the thing meets my flesh and bite my lip to keep from screaming. I squeeze John's hand, harder, as hard as I can.

When Malcolm buries the device deep into my arm securely and brings the pincers out, I release a gasp.

"John?" Malcolm says then, removing the gloves and rolling his chair away. "If you could do the final step."