“It’s okay, baby,” the mother held her child in her arms as the kid wailed. “I’m here.”

“You’re being so strong, Drew,” Carter said as she continued to work through the blood, washing the wound clean. Her hands were steady on the kid’s leg. Andy held the boy down, his one arm against the boy’s chest, while I held down his legs, even as he tried to squirm.

Not for the first time, I wondered if we should have knocked the kid out. It would have been so easy to simply wrap my arm around his neck, apply just the barest amount of pressure, and let the kid sleep through the painful ordeal.

It’s not my kid, though, I reminded myself. I looked at the mother, who held Drew’s head between her hands. What long-term mental trauma would this kid have as a result of this night? Shit, who cares? What mental trauma must he have suffered since the world’s gone to hell? Hand-basket not included.

“Ward!” Carter snapped me out of my meandering thoughts.

I’d let my grip on the kid's legs relax, and his movement was making it impossible for Carter to finish checking the wound for any more eggs left over. I refocused on the moment, blocking out the distressed ten-year-old and focusing on the mission.

After we were certain the wound was clear, I picked up one of the cores from the flies and pressed it into the hand of the kid.

I’d never seen a core form before. The boy’s chest was miraculously clear of mana, aside from the normal concentration in a person. As soon as he touched the core, however, the mana spun into his body, and a small cloud of energy swirled into being, concentrated in one place, but lacking a distinct shape.

A small portion of the energy from the core in my hand never made it into the boy’s core. It wound its way down to his leg, where it settled around the bloody wound, which closed over with new, unblemished skin.

This is the future of medicine, I thought. No electricity, but who needs bandages when a little mana acts as a cure-all to physical ailments? If humans learn how to survive in this dangerous world, how long exactly could we live?

The boy’s screaming had faded to a whimper. I let go of his legs, and Andy immediately lifted his hand from his chest. The whimpering turned to sobbing as he curled into a fetal position, huddling as close to his mother as possible as he cried.

“Good work, Drew,” Carter said. She reached out to put a hand on the boy’s head, but hesitated, her eyes caught by the boy’s blood still fresh on her. She grabbed the bucket of water from the pool and began scrubbing rigorously.

“Here,” I said, and I bent over the boy, lifting him easily from the floor. “Come on, mom. You can hold him out there.”

I’d never fully counted the number of people in our group. After that night, though, it was burned into my mind. I saw each face scrunched in pain, each infant and toddler screaming. Interestingly enough, the younger the children were, the more resilient they seemed to be. The five kids over eight passed out from the pain, but none of the seven toddlers and infants did, crying and screaming through the entire process, and some even continuing after they were healed. It was the last procedure when everything went wrong.

The eggs were too close to the femoral artery. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen someone bleed out, and I was all too familiar with death in the shit-pocalypse. It wasn’t even the first time I’d seen a boy die. That didn’t make it easier the second time, though.

The blood sprayed all over my right hand. I was in my usual position, using my weight to hold the kid’s legs down while Carter carefully removed the egg sacs. The kid had already feinted at the sight of his blood, saving us a long, screaming pseudo-surgery. He twitched once. I never even knew something was wrong until I realized there was too much blood on the floor. A second later, and the steady breathing stopped altogether.

I brought the core to the boy’s skin, but nothing happened. I pressed it harder, as if I could Will the energy into him. The core seemed to pulse in my hand, its faint light twinkling like a star. I sat back, no longer noticing the discomfort of the cold cement floor on my knees.

Someone was screaming. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t me. Peaceful. His face. Nothing could hurt him. Someone was trying to hurt him, though. Someone pounded on his chest. White mana left the body the fastest, leaking into the surrounding air. The red mana was slower. Even as someone threw herself on top of the boy, as if she could trap the mana and force it back into him, more red mana leaked out around her and into the cold floor, which absorbed it greedily. His mother. The woman.

Carter was crying, rocking back and forth with her hands around her knees. Andy’s hand on her shoulder. His mouth was moving, but I couldn’t make out the words. His eyebrows furrowed. Was that concern? Grief? Regret? Who gives a shit.

I looked down at my empty hands. Not empty. Shining core. I stumbled to my feet, letting the merry light drop to the floor. I made it out the pool door and to the sliding doors before I knew it.

More talking. Whispering.

“Air,” I mumbled. “Air.”

I lurched through the doors as soon as they were open wide enough.

I needed something… something. The wall.

The flimsy plastic cracked. Eventually, I could see the concrete. Someone had painted it red. It wasn’t enough.

More talking. Shouting. Red paint on the walls.

My hands hurt. Red on my hands. Not red.

I shook my head. I stood outside the hotel, next to one of the walls by the entrance. Someone had beaten the siding off part of the building, exposing the solid cement foundation underneath. The whole thing was covered in blood. I looked down at my hands, the knuckles raw and bloody. My right hand throbbed in pain, and I could see a fracture in the underlying mana. Where silver and gray mana usually would be, a thin line of blue and red mana wound its way in. Even as I watched, the gray mana stitched itself back together, and the throb in my hand lessened. The process was slow, but I knew the fracture would completely heal on its own, maybe in as little as a week at this rate. Faster if I could find a source for more mana.

I was ignoring the issue. I had to go back in there and face everyone. I looked down at my hands again. They were still clenched into fists. I grimaced at the throbbing pain as I forced the fingers open. I took a deep breath to ensure I was mentally ready. Then I turned back to the people who needed and depended on me. I turned back, and headed into the hotel.

I felt the stares as I entered the lobby. I met several eyes, and they quickly looked away. Who would want to make eye contact with someone unstable like me? The tiger, too, spared me a glance just long enough to let me know she wasn’t afraid of me and that I was just another dumb human. Then, she deliberately lay her head back on the ground and ignored me. I guess she showed me.

Chavez ducked into the back room, and soon enough Andy came out in his place. He examined me before making his way over. First, he gave me a hug. If I had any tears left in me, I would have bawled my eyes out. Instead, I returned the simple gesture. When the moment was over, he pulled back from me, then brought his fist into my stomach.

It was the blow that surprised me most. I was bigger and stronger than him. And I was another rank above him in power. But despite our differences, his blow rocked me onto my ass.

“You don’t get to pull that shit anymore,” he growled. “We aren’t in the field where there’s a professional team of us, and if we screw up, we can cover each other’s backs. We have civilians now. You don’t get to take a holiday to work out your feelings.”

“Fuck you,” I growled in return.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me for a goddamn second.” When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “Think about your wife and daughter. If they were here now—“

“Don’t bring them into this. Don’t you dare.”

“Forrest, you have to get your head on straight, man. And this is the only way I know how. Look at them.” He pointed to the group of civilians. “Any one of them could be Penny. She could be in their same situation right now. And do you want the people who are supposed to be helping her and your daughter freaking out and going on a rage trip?”

“It’s my fault that kid died, man. My fault. What if that had been Emily? I can’t make mistakes like that. When I fuck up, people die.”

“Look at me,” he said.

I dragged my eyes up from my feet. He was crouched, slumped, so his head was almost on a level with mine on the floor.

“People are already dying, Forrest,” he said. “You won’t be able to save everyone. And that kid dying was on all of us. His mom, Carter, you, and me. We were all in there. We all should have seen what happened, and we didn’t. This isn’t just on you, brother.”

“But I’m the one who didn’t get the core to him in time,” I protested. “The mana could have saved him.”

“We don’t know that. It might not have been enough. We can’t ever know.”

“And that’s just it. We won’t know, and we’ll never find out.”

“Bull.” Andy’s denial was so simple. “We’re going to go through hell, each of us, before this is over. And it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” He stood and offered me a hand. “So, you gonna get up or sit on your lazy ass all day?”

“There’s no good answer to that question,” I said, but I put my hand out, letting the man help me up.

“Damn, but you weigh a ton,” Andy said as he hauled me to my feet. “Have you gotten heavier?”

I grunted. “Yeah, gotta lay off the junk food.”

“Gotta watch out for those preservatives too.”

“Maybe I’ll go for some steak and eggs.”

“Oh, a nice, well-done steak.”

“Nah, gotta be rare.”

“I forget that you like your cows to still moo at you while it’s on your plate.”

“And you like eating charcoal. What’s your point?”

We didn’t say anything else. We didn’t have to. It felt good just to have a piece of our regular banter back.

We walked side by side past everyone. They still didn’t meet my eye, and I could sense it would take time to earn their trust again.

There was still one more patient that needed surgery. I looked over at the tiger, which eyed me in return, raising its head off the patterned carpet. I motioned with my head to the door.

Slowly, almost lazily, she stood to her feet and padded over. The thing crossed the distance in a few seconds, even though she looked like she was in no rush. It was a strong reminder of the natural strength of the creature in front of me. I held open the door. The end of her tail twitched before she came to a decision and walked through the door.

I followed her through the door, the twitch of her ears the only acknowledgment of my presence behind her. Her head dropped as she sniffed at the water in the pool. Her tongue flicked out to lap at the water, but at the first taste, she let it fall back into the pool. She looked back at me in clear disgust, as if blaming me for letting her taste the chlorinated water. I just shrugged.

No one else spoke as they watched the interplay between myself and the tiger. It examined each person in turn before padding over to where Carter sat on her knees.

Her hands trembled where they rested on her knees as the large cat came closer. The animal made a half-circle before she flopped to the ground, her haunch presented to Carter. She nuzzled the same spot on her haunch where she had been cleaning herself earlier.

“I’m pretty sure that’s where she’s injured,” I said.

“Okay,” Carter croaked out.

I moved over and sank to my knees across from the border patrol agent. There was a good three hundred pounds of tiger separating us. I was so close, I reached out with both hands and touched the creature in the indicated spot. I ran them along the area before I thought I knew where the area was. I pulled the hair apart to get at the injury.

There were two layers of fur on the creature as I tried to expose the area. The outer layer was made up of long hair, coarse and tough, clinging to my hands, and easy to separate to get at the lower layer. The second layer was much more fine, the hair almost soft to my touch. I was reminded of a time I went to an aquarium as a kid, and there was an exhibit that let you touch samples of hair, skin, and fur from the different animals. The otter fur was always the softest and smoothest, but the second layer of fur on the tiger could have given an otter a run for its money. The second coat was much thinner, the fur sliding under my hands, and I had a devil of a time keeping the fine hairs away from the infected area.

When I was finally settled, Carter took her knife and began cutting. Or rather, she tried cutting. The knife found no purchase on the orange skin, leaving only a white line, like when you scratch at your skin. Carter pressed harder with the knife, but failed to even draw blood. She looked up at me and shook her head.

I fought through past the confusion. How could a creature, with skin that a knife couldn’t cut, have the eggs from one of those things planted in it? Still, we had another option. I looked at the tiger and hesitated. How would she react when I drew the weapon?

I took a step back from the large cat, moving to where it could clearly see me. Slowly, I drew the sword from the sheath on my back. There was a flash of realization in the tiger as it saw the pure silver shining in my hand. I tried to make my movements as slow, deliberate, and non-threatening as possible. Her ears rotated. I didn’t even know tigers could do that. It wasn’t like a dog, where they lie flat when they’re upset or angry. The ears were still up, but simply pointed backwards, and I could see the tufted backs of the tiger’s ears.

“It’s okay,” I said in a soothing tone. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m trying to help you.”

The tiger didn’t move further, but she kept her eyes on me. I stepped sideways, toward her flank. Before, she hadn’t been concerned with our movements, but now she tracked me and my sword closely. I kept the sword low and loose in my hand. Despite the tension in the room, thicker than a milk stout, I knelt next to the tiger and held the flat of the blade against her coat. I positioned my sword over the infection, then rotated the weapon to be blade down, and drew it lightly across the tiger’s fur. It wasn’t so much an incision as it was a gash. The moment I was done, I dropped the weapon to the ground next to me and relaxed while Carter did her job. Once the tough outer layer of skin was separated, she was able to use her knife to finish removing the eggs. She didn’t bother trying to stitch the wound back together. I took the last core from my bag of loot and pressed it against the tiger’s leg. In less than ten seconds, the wound had completely sealed over, and the wet blood was the only sign of a wound.

Through the entire process, the tiger never looked away, her eyes flitting back and forth between me and my sword.