Taylor pouts. “What? Why not?”
Michael looks over at me. “I’ve got two nurses nursing injuries of their own because of this one. We had to sedate her. Not only for the operations, but because she kept leaving her bed.”
“Sounds like something you’d do.” Taylor glares at me but otherwise doesn’t respond. I’m sure this is quite true.
“While I do not doubt your tenacity, nor your strength, you will remain bedridden for another four days. You’ll be confined to this hospital for at least three weeks.”
“I do not have three weeks,” Taylor clips.
Doctor Michael shrugs his broad shoulders. “Unfortunately, you do. That is the shortest amount of time I can recommend in good conscience. You’re healing extraordinarily fast?—”
“Of course I am.”
“—And you were fortunate enough to avoid major artery and organ damage. But you still need to convalesce. Otherwise, you will reinjure yourself and be back to square one.” His steely blue eyes hold mine. “Can I count on you to keep this patient in bed?”
“I’ll pin her down if I have to, Doc,” I say with a wink.
Taylor grumbles, “Unbelievable.”
“So, first we’ll eat breakfast, get you cleaned up, and run diagnostic tests.” He checks the machines attached to Taylor, reading the output of information and jotting notes down. “Once you’ve cleared that, I’ll get the physical therapist in here and we can attempt some limb movement. You don’t want to overdo it in your condition.”
Taylor is unimpressed. I’m not sure what she expected, to take sprints down the hallway? “Yeah, thanks.”
“I’ll send them up with breakfast for you both.” He offers us a genial smile, which only I return. Taylor waves him off as he closes the door behind him.
“He seems nice.”
“He is fine. This is a big setback in terms of time. I have to get to Reed. Three weeks is too long.” Her attention flits far away, probably going over the plans in her head, recalculating to include this extended time. She reaches over and presses the buttons on the wire connected to her vein. When she catches my disapproving eye, she shrugs. “I do not want to be drugged-up.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Sure, but the drugs don’t heal me faster, they make the pain tolerable. I want to be cognizant of my pain level so I can track my convalescence accurately, and get out of here sooner.”
Taylor doesn’t possess a neutral gear. It’s always forward forward forward. I nod toward the bandage on her arm. “What did it feel like? Being shot?”
“Not great.” She smirks at me. “I didn’t know it happened at first. It felt like someone punched me with a hot metal fist. Then it burned. I was still running on enough adrenaline to continue, but the burning was intense. Like a cattle prod on each of the wounds, digging beneath the skin.” She uses her good arm to reach for water and takes a sip. “The strange part is, whoever shot me did not intend to kill me.”
“They shot you three times. Sounds intentional to me.”
“It is no bout of good luck that she missed major organs but managed to incapacitate me. It is what I would do, if I were trying to use violence as a messenger. I mean, I had no headgear on. If she had shot me in the head, Mason and I would be dead.”
I’ll never get used to Taylor’s nonchalance about her own mortality. Pondering her demise fills me with the same dread as pondering my own. “What message is she sending by laying you up in a hospital bed?”
Taylor shrugs. “I believe we were specifically targeted. They may know I was the one who led the troops in the MidRegion. Maybe they know I killed Thorne. Maybe it’s because of you. Somehow, they know I am important to the Order. It is a power play, at the very least. And a good one.”
I snort. “You sound like you’re impressed.”
“I am. I am not an easy target, Lucy. She hit me three times, in places carefully calculated to incapacitate but minimize damage. It is enough circumstantial evidence to make known to Theia.”
“Make what known to Theia?” Delilah asks, strolling in beside a candy striper who cheerfully delivers us breakfast.
Taylor uses her good arm to spoon herself a portion of rather unfortunate-looking oatmeal. “The people who ambushed us.”
“And how Taylor believes she and Mason were specifically targeted and left incapacitated on purpose, rather than dead,” I say as I sip my coffee.
Expression going cold, Delilah nods. “It is worth considering. The tide of this war has taken a dramatic turn in our favor. They may sense the shift of power and are trying to get Theia’s attention. Whoever they are, my people will find them.”
About a half an hour later, Doctor Michael returns to the room with a great big smile. “All right. It’s time to re-dress your wounds and do some extremely light mobility exercises.”