“Anything is possible, Shakes. Besides, we don’t know what’ll happen. For all we know the device your using could help you, clear all of it up like magic. The medicine might work better. You could become a part of the success rate. Anything is possible, right? Especially if you keep fighting?”
Oh, boy. He sounds like Tessa and John. I snatch my eyes away from his, changing the subject. “I’m getting hungry. Think we can go catch a bite to eat?”
I can tell he wants to go back to what we were talking about before, but I stand up, tugging him by the hand.
“Sure,” he says with a sigh. “Let’s get out of here.”
I turn with him on the trail and we make our way back to the bridge. We’re both quiet. I notice his brows are dipped and pulled together. He’s thinking, but there’s really not much to think about. Just like Tessa and John, he has to accept my fate.
I put my attention on the trees again, the blue sky. The wind tickles my cheeks and comfort swims through me. Nature has a way of doing that—comforting a wounded soul. If I could spend all day out here, I would.
As we cross the bridge, a cough slips out of me and that cough alone makes me stop in my tracks. Dread fills my heart as I cough again.
“You okay?” Max asks, stepping in front of me. His eyes are swimming with concern.
“I’m fine,” I croak, but then another cough surfaces.
And then another. Soon, my head is spinning. I stumble backwards, trying to catch onto something before I collapse, but it’s too late. I land on my side, my elbow scraping across the splintered wood of the bridge.
“Shannon!” Max’s voice booms. I struggle to reach behind me, tugging at my backpack. One of the tubes must be pinched. It has to be because I now feel like I can’t breathe.
“Shannon? What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Max drops to his knees, looking me all over, eyes swimming with worry.
“My—the pack…jetpack…I----” I roll onto my back, feeling the device digging into my back. The blue sky and puffy white clouds become one giant blur.
Fuck. Is this it? Is this how I’m going to die?
A pair of hands grip my arms to haul me up. Max is shouting something, but it’s unclear.
“Shannon! Shannon!”
I work harder to breathe. He carries me in his arms and dashes across the bridge and to the parking lot.
The sky is spinning above me now, the ends of leaves and tree branches steadily going by.
My lips part.
I’m drowning. A fish out of water, that’s what I am.
I want to tell him it’s the tubing. It must be pinched or one of them is blocked, but when he places me in the passenger seat of the car, I watch him check my backpack to no avail.
It’s not the tubing or the jetpack. It’s just me. Something must have gone wrong. The OPX must not be working.
Max snatches his phone out of his pocket and then he’s shouting. I hear him shout Tessa’s name, the word hospital.
No, not the hospital.
Before I know it, the passenger door is closed. He’s behind the wheel of his car, and starts it up, driving away immediately.
My head rolls and I look out of the window.
The trees. The sky. Nature has a way of healing a wounded soul…
He’s taking me away way from this peace—away from freedom. Back to my awful, dreadful reality.
NINETEEN
I groan groggily, turning my head when I hear voices murmuring. Everything is hazy and spinning.
I look right and John, Tessa, and Dr. Barad are standing close by, talking amongst each other. Dr. Barad is explaining something as they both nod with somber faces. John takes a quick glance over at me and when he sees my eyes are open, he rushes my way.
“Shannon—baby, are you okay?” His voice is full of distress, his eyes studying my face.
I sigh as I look around, so relieved I’m not in the hospital again.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I grunt and start to sit up, but Dr. Barad walks forward, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder to caution me.
“I wouldn’t try and move too much right now,” he says.
“Why not?”
“Shannon, just listen to him,” Tessa pleads, stepping to John’s side.
I ignore her. “Dr. Barad?”
Dr. Barad exhales slowly, placing his clipboard down and picking up his stethoscope. After listening to my lungs and heartbeat, he jots something down and then looks into my eyes again.
“Shannon, the jetpack, as you call it, was given to you so that you could walk around leisurely—so that you wouldn’t feel trapped in your own home. It was meant for you to do simple, everyday tasks, like maybe going on a grocery store trip, or a quick walk to the mailbox. It wasn’t given to you so that you could go running around a park.”