Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
I drink as much water as my body will tolerate, shaking my head as I screw the cap back on.
“That’s not possible.”
He shrugs. “It’s what I was told.”
The swelling in my eye is gone. I’m not completely healed, but I’m myself again. There’s no way I made so much progress so quickly. Maybe I just thought things were worse than they were because I was in a drug-induced stupor.
“You’re up. How are you feeling?” a woman with short brown hair and a hawkish face asks.
“A lot better.”
My eyes flicker over to the bed where the man Pax called Carpenter was. It’s empty now, made up with fresh white sheets. Did that really happen? Or did I imagine it due to powerful narcotics in my system?
“You guys must have some next-level medicine here.” I smile at the woman whose fingertips are pressed to my inner wrist so she can check my pulse.
“You just needed rest.” She says it breezily, like I’m a little kid who had a scrape on my knee. “Are you having pain anywhere?”
“No, seriously. Did you give me capsaicin? Please tell me you guys didn’t give me kratom. I mean, if you did, I get it, but that stuff’s addictive. Or was it actual medicine? How did I heal so quickly?”
“Are you having pain anywhere?”
My gaze darts to her wrist, where her bracelet indicates she’s a three. I suspect the higher a Rising Tide’s number is, the more they know about this weird-as-fuck island.
“I deserve to know what you guys gave me.”
A wrinkle of annoyance appears between her brows. “We didn’t give you anything but food and water. Now, I have other patients, so do you have pain anywhere?”
“No, I’m fine. How long have I been here?”
“This is your fourth day.”
My shoulders sink. I should be grateful I’m so much better, but the scientist in me can’t blindly swallow answers that don’t make sense. If I wasn’t hallucinating the severity of my pain and injuries, what’s going on?
“What were my injuries when I arrived?”
Her smile is tight and not remotely happy. “Commander Thatcher will be coming by soon. Talk to him about it. I have other patients.”
She walks away and I arch a brow at the man sitting beside my bed. He ignores me—no surprise since he’s wearing a four bracelet.
I slowly sip water, making a mental list of all the questions I have for Pax. By the time he strolls into the infirmary, though, all I can think about is the hollowness in my stomach. I’m so hungry it hurts.
“What a difference a day makes,” he quips, grinning as he looks at me.
He’s wearing a belt made of a narrow rope; his abs look carved from stone and his face seems leaner than it was before.
“You ready to go back to Marcelle’s room?”
My heart hammers with fear, the image of Marcelle’s hateful, torch-lit expression burned into my mind. I really thought I was going to die.
“Your face tells me everything I need to know,” he says. “I already cut you loose from her. I’m your mentor now, and you’re bunking with Rona. That work for you?”
I nod, relief washing through me. I don’t have to sleep outside anymore. Now that I know Marcelle and her friends are out to get me, I won’t be a sitting duck again.
He nods at the man beside my bed. “You can go, Colvin. Thanks.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Pax comes all the way over to my bed, making my stomach flutter unexpectedly. “More good news—you’re off kitchen duty.”
I groan. “Don’t put me on laundry.”
The dimple in his cheek surfaces when he smiles. “You’re with me because I want you on the hunting and security team. We don’t usually put ones there, but you’re special. I’ve seen it in training and I saw it when Olin brought you in here after you were attacked. You’ve got the heart of a fighter.”
My lips part with surprise. “Olin brought me here?”
“Yeah. Billy sent him to find you when you didn’t show up for work. He kicked Marcelle’s door down.”
“Oh, wow.”
“The building crew is gonna be way too busy to fix that door, so I put it in storage. You don’t think Marcelle will mind not having a door anymore, do you?”
I’m not a cruel person, but I do think everyone should get what they deserve. And the thought of Marcelle having to sleep unprotected, unable to leave anything in her room because it could get stolen while she’s gone...it’s very well deserved.
“I think she’s tough enough to get through it,” I say with a smile.
8
He was a killer, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone, by virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment where only the strong survive.
– Jack London, White Fang
“Way too slow.” Pax grabs the bottom of my boot as I’m about to land a roundhouse kick to his chest and shoves me away from him.