Mera

MERA

Slowly, I crept towards the infirmary, my hearing stretched to the limits for any footfalls, any sound of approaching guards.

Maybe they thought I was too defeated, too exhausted from the poor rations and constant terror to try anything.

Because no one was around.

Worry itched like a bug wriggling between my shoulder blades. With every step, I swept the corridor, searching for places to hide if someone came, closing my eyes and hoping they didn't find me.

But I was alone.

It felt weird. The hallway was long and empty, and I didn't have to squeeze behind the walls or crawl through sewer ducts. I just walked down the hall in a tunnel of open air.

Still nervous, I gained the infirmary and rooted around for some of the nutrient-powder pouches that I hadn't had time to locate when I was here before.

Base level nutrition for when you didn't have the credits for anything else, I wasn't a stranger to their chalky taste.

When I'd first been brought here, I tried to starve myself. Instead, the guards brought me here, strapped me down and forced the gritty liquid down my throat.

I'd cursed them then, but now was grateful I knew the damned things were somewhere in this room.

A box of the silver packets was in the fourth cabinet I tried. Hands shaking, I added some water from the sink to a few of them, taking a swig as I worked. Once I tasted the gritty fluid, I realized how hungry I was and chugged two of them.

"Ugh. Faking my way through dinners caught up to me," I muttered.

The first few swallows threatened to come right back up and I swallowed hard, waiting for my stomach to accept it, before sucking down the rest.

They hadn't tasted this good back when Tessi and I scraped every credit together, dreaming of our futures.

Maybe I just had higher standards back then.

I made as many shakes as I could, folding a makeshift bag out of the thin sheet that covered the cot to store them in.

I tried looking for more actual medications but finally stopped myself.

It was enough. I couldn't risk staying here any longer.

Checking both ways out the door, I started for the cell and stopped mid-stride.

What was I doing?

I hurried back to the infirmary, ducking in and crouching by the door as my head swam.

I had almost gone back to that cell voluntarily. How broken was my spirit that I was willing to return to my place of captivity like it was my home – for a stranger? What was wrong with me?

After all my escape attempts, I knew the hard part was getting out of the cell.

I was out. I was walking. I was free.

Why would I have automatically turned right back to that stinking hole of torture when I had a way out and food to boot? And why did I still consider it?

He went there to rescue me and he failed. He may not ever get well enough to get me out again.

That was my only chance.

If I was going to get out, I had to go right then. Go. Go!

But I couldn't.

No matter how badly I wanted to breathe free air, I just couldn't do it. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Never in my darkest fantasies had I considered that it would be my own choice that kept me in that cell.

That I would chicken out on the verge of my greatest opportunity to escape and go back for a dead man.

But he wasn't just any dead man. There was something about him.

I'd never felt this way about a male. Ever. This was more than a simple feeling of interest.

Something pulled me back. Maybe I'd just spent too long nursing him, worrying over every wound, to let him go so easily.

What a joke. What a colossal, cosmic joke.

Fighting nausea and a feeling of crippling depression, I grabbed a scalpel, letting the tip prick one finger.

At least I wouldn't be completely defenseless when Garlku called for me next time.

Throat tight with revulsion, I trudged back to my cell, the sense of lightness, of freedom I'd enjoyed seconds ago, melting into sludge that dragged at my feet.

The door was wedged open, but clanged shut behind me, the lock resetting sounding like a shackle locking me in place.

The bitter taste swelled on my tongue as I saw the unconscious body of my cellmate.

Had he died while I was out? Had I thrown away my chance of freedom for nothing?

Drained, I sank onto the floor beside him.

Waited.

Finally his chest rose, fell.

He was still alive. Part of me wished that he were still conscious so I could rail at him, beat him, anything but deal with this silence.

I hated him. No matter how long I lived, I would never forgive that Vinduthi. He cost me my last chance at freedom. He cost me my life.

I poked him, but he didn't stir. I shook him, but still nothing. Breaking me out must have cost him, as well. Good , I thought darkly, shaking myself.

I'd made my bet. He would be my way out of here.

So I needed to get over myself and do something about this.

Feeding him would be a challenge. In my limited experience with babies, you had to balance the head in such a way that the child wouldn't choke while also holding the bottle to where it wouldn't flow too fast. I had no bottle, and he was no baby.

I quelled my growing acrimony and gave it my best shot, picking up his head and balancing it on my knee. I wedged my foot underneath his chest to level out his throat, opened the pouch with my teeth, and attempted to pour it down his throat slowly enough to trigger his swallowing reflex without gagging or choking him.

"Come on," I coaxed him through gritted teeth.

Needless to say, I made a royal mess, but after a few attempts, I got a passable amount in his mouth. I waited for him to throw it back up, but nothing happened. I gave him another, and by then, my strength was utterly sapped. I had nothing left to do but crawl into a corner and fall asleep.

I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke, the Vinduthi's breathing was shallow. I felt his skin, and it was hot and dry.

Who knew what a healthy Vinduthi was supposed to feel like?

I sure didn't, but something seemed wrong.

Cradling his head in my lap, I fed him another nutrient pouch, but his breathing still didn't improve. Worried I was about to lose him, I considered that the shake may not have been enough and wracked my brain for any other source of food.

Only one occurred to me. I consulted my hidden bag of treasures in the corner of the cell and readied some antiseptic and a bandage. I laid them all out next to me and pulled his head into my lap once more.

Taking the scalpel, I positioned it over the vein in my wrist and held it over the Vinduthi's mouth. Twice, I pulled it back before slicing into my skin to wipe my sweaty palms and still my shaking hands. Finally, I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and cut.

"This better fucking work."

It stung, but the worst was over. I poured my blood into Kovas's open mouth as slowly as I could, but it gushed, and I was afraid I would choke him. Almost immediately, though, he gulped it down.

His color, at least what I supposed was his natural color, increased, and his temperature even felt better.

This was going to work.

It had to.

His warm breath on my wrist, the feel of his lips as he drank greedily, pulled something deep in my belly.

"This is just until you're better."

It had been three days since my trip to the infirmary, three days since Kovas had opened his eyes.

"I knew you shouldn't have moved so quickly."

But I had to admit, between the nutritional packets and my blood, he looked better.

His wounds almost entirely healed, the feel of him in the cramped cell was subtly different now.

Before, he had been little more than a patient, a bundle of injuries that needed to be treated.

Maybe it was due to the time we had spent together. Maybe the sharing of my blood.

But it was more and more obvious he was a man.

And a remarkably handsome one.

I shook myself as I tied off the bandage.

I'd love to blame that thought on the blood loss, but having regular meals with the nutritional shakes had me feeling better than I had for months.

For once, I felt like we might have a shot at breaking out of here.

I'd deal with all these uncomfortable feelings then.

If Kovas ever woke up.

A heavy tread at the end of the hallway caught my attention, and hurriedly, I pulled my hair back over my face, slouching my shoulders, nose wrinkling as the scent of the grubby bloodstained dress I still wore reached me.

I shot a quick look at Kovas.

Despite his insanely fast healing, I'd kept his bandages on.

No reason to let anyone else know how well he was doing.

"Hey girlie," the guard sneered as he shook the cell door, then raised the hatch at the bottom to slide in a tray.

Dinner tonight appeared to be some gray-green paste, and a single bottle of water.

Dammit.

Water was what we needed more than anything else.

It was probably possible to eat the powder from the shakes dry, but so far I hadn't managed it.

But his next words knocked any such thoughts clear from my mind.

"I hear your boyfriend will be back soon."

Unable to help myself I stared at Kovas.

My boyfriend?

Thankfully, he was too wrapped up in his enjoyment of my obvious discomfort to notice my slip up. "Garlku's really come through with the goods this time. I suspect Conii will give him anything he wants."

His nasty grin widened, showing crooked yellow teeth.

"Or anyone."