Illumination
Chapter Twenty-Eight

First, there was sound. Jack could hear a beeping sound in the distance, coming from behind a watery curtain of grogginess. The beeping was mostly steady, sometimes loud and other times very soft. A low murmur babbled over it; talking, she soon realized. Someone was talking to her.

Then, there was touch. Cool sheets wrapped around her. This wasn’t the first time she’d been burned, she knew that. But when had she been burned before? Jack couldn’t remember. She rolled over in the bed she was in—for it was a real bed, not a cheap sleep pod—and mashed her face further into what felt like a pillow.

Finally, there was sight. Jack realized she was lying in a bed—a real bed, in a colony. What colony is this? How am I here? Am I...dreaming? She tried to sit up, but her muscles locked together and forced her to stay buried under the thin, white sheets. She was dressed in a blue hospital gown that was wrapped around her so loosely that it felt like she was lying on a cloud. Next to her was a monitor that was making the horrendous beeping sound. My heartbeat, Jack realized, suddenly appreciating the sound a lot more.

“Jackie, oh my god!” Arms wrapped around her from the right, warm and welcoming. “We thought you were dead...your heart stopped beating for a minute!” It was Sierra. Her hair had been partially burned off on one side of her face and one eye was swollen shut, yet a big smile was still plastered on her face. A hospital gown was also wrapped around her, but rubber bands pinned the sleeves to Sierra’s wrists.

“Sie, come here.” Jack pulled her sister into an even tighter hug, relief flooding her like a tidal wave. All the pain left her as she hugged Sierra, even though both of them were hideously burned all over.

After a moment, they both pulled away and Jack asked, “Where are the others? Robin, Liam, Bailey, Dad, Ben, Hazel, and the other solfects...where are they?”

“I’m right here,” a voice offered from her left elbow. Liam sat on a swivel chair, wearing a see-through shirt and what looked like a very long skirt. He too had a monitor next to him, beeping in chorus with Jack’s. “I got the best of it since I was near the door in the first place.” He shrugged and offered a hand; Jack took it and managed a weak smile.

“You took a lot of the blast. Thanks for warning us.” Robin appeared on her right, next to Sierra. He took her other hand solemnly.

“No problem.”

A pause, then, “Jacklyn, hi!”

The girl’s heart skipped a beat and she turned to see her father standing there, beaming down at her from the right. “Dad, are you okay?”

“Thankfully. I hid under a chair, which protected me.” He frowned, paused, then leaned down close to his daughter. “Thank you. Really,” he whispered. “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said with a smile, which hurt her cracked, inflamed lips. Jack leaned back further into her pillows as her father drew away, looking up. The ceiling, white and fuzzy (or was that just her brain?), began to swim and she forced herself to focus on the assortment of Illumination lamps hanging there. “I don’t feel so good...” Her head lolled to one side and she blacked out again.

***

“Jack, wake up! Please…”

“Hmm...I’m up.” Jack shook her head to clear the cobwebs and swallowed with some effort. It hurt to eat, breathe, and swallow, even just air. Her throat was almost always swollen with burns and blisters. “What is it?”

Sierra stood above her, alone. “Come on, we’ve gotta go.”

“...what for?”

“Ben’s in critical condition. We’re going to go say goodbye. You joining us?”

If at all possible, Jack’s throat felt even more raw at this statement. She pushed the blankets off and swung her legs over the side of her bed, the room spinning as she did so. “He’s here? But—what about his vital signs? His heart rate?”

“They’re there, but he’s fading. Not responding to anything.”

“What do you mean? Here—help me up.” Jack reached out her left arm and Sierra took it, supporting her older sister as she climbed down from the bed. The floor was cold on her feet and Jack shivered as they limped their way out of the room and down a carpeted hallway. Her heart began to beat faster as they approached a door at the end of the hall, one that was marked with a “Do Not Disturb” placard.

Ben was lying on a bed much similar to Jack’s, but the sheets were drawn back and there were wristbands all over his arms, taking pulse and temperature. His shirt had been stripped off and his chest was a patchwork of burns, covered in blood and what looked like pus. Jack held back a squeal of disgust as she sat by his side.

“His burns are really sensitive,” the doctor informed them as they watched the solfect. “His vital signs are fine, but his pulse is beginning to fade. Kind of like he’s tapping out. He took a lot of the blast. Would’ve been killed instantly if not for that red-haired girl shielding him.”

“Hazel—is she okay?” Jack asked in a daze, resting her hand on Ben’s arm and watching the monitor’s beeping slow down.

Sierra leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder, twitching slightly. “None of the other solfects made it, Jack.” A lump formed in the girl’s throat and she opened her mouth to say something, but the words escaped her. She leaned into the embrace with Sierra and let the tears come, even though they stung her cheeks and made red tracks.

“Oh...hey,” Ben greeted them groggily, opening up one swollen eye to stare at them before turning back to look up at the ceiling. His mouth twitched as though he was trying to smile, but the corners dropped back into a frown.

“His skin is too inflamed. We’re trying to cool him down but he sustained severe trauma from the blast. He also hit his head pretty hard on the tile. Looks like he tripped,” the doctor said, adjusting another ice packet on Ben’s forehead. After working for hundreds of years on an icy planet, most doctors weren’t prepared to treat burns. “Vital signs are fading fast. I’m sorry.”

Jack swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat and looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor. Anywhere but at the dying boy in front of her.

“Solfects...don’t die easily. I’ll be fine,” Ben muttered.

“Just look at yourself,” Jack scoffed. The boy in question turned away and stared listlessly at the monitor, one eye rolling in another direction. His pupils were dilated, the whites shot and bleeding red.

“Would you like a moment?” someone, probably a nurse, asked Jack and Sierra. Head swimming, the former nodded and her mind faintly registered the click of the door behind her.

“Are Liam and Bailey and Robin going to come in?” Sierra asked, hand on her older sister’s shoulder. Jack looked around for the others, but they were not there. “Ben, what do you need? Anything?”

“...water,” he croaked, his voice distorted beyond recognition.

“Y—yes, I’ll get you some water. I’ll replace the others too,” Sierra said hurriedly, shaking all over. There was a kitchen built in next to the room; the twelve-year-old hurried off to fetch a cup, leaving Jack and Ben alone.

The room was small and cozy, red curtains flanking the window. The beeping of the monitor, slow and unsteady, played like a melody in her head. Jack strode over to the window and pushed open one of the curtains, unwilling to look back. Stop crying, stop crying! You didn’t even know him. He kidnapped your dad, he betrayed your trust...

Outside, it was snowing. The ice glistened under the light of Illumination lamps hanging from posts, shining white, silver, and blue. In the distance, Jack could see mountains. This isn’t our colony, she thought. We’re near 186. The General found us. A smile broke across her face and she turned away from the window. Ben rolled over and watched as she returned to his bedside. She sat down and sighed. “Hey, when I called you a monster back in the canyon, I didn’t mean it. Or I did then. You did a good thing, saving me. And...uh…” Jack ran out of words to say and settled for an appreciative pat on his arm.

Ben blinked at her, letting the words sink in. His eyes rolled back into his head and he jerked back, startling Jack. When he came to, he rolled over and clutched at the girl’s arm frantically. “Hazel? Where’s Hazel?!”

Jack stared at him helplessly before whispering, “She’s gone.” She closed her eyes and held onto his hand, hoping that the others would return soon. “I’m sorry, Ben.”

There was silence. She opened her eyes again, sensing how quiet the room had become. The monitor had stopped beeping. Ben lay stretched out on the bed, chest eerily still. His head was turned towards Jack, but his eyes, still open and glassy, stared past her. He was looking out the window.

It was just then that Sierra, Liam, and Bailey walked back into the room. Only Robin was absent. Jack’s mind faintly registered the sound of a glass shattering on the ground, watery contents spilling all over the rug. She couldn’t look at the body—she forced herself to stare at the other three instead.

“Oh, man,” Liam breathed. He stepped over the pieces of glass embedded into the rug and crouched down next to the bed, lips slightly parted. Sierra turned and fled from the room, unable to look at the body. This left Bailey standing on the threshold. The girl looked around helplessly, swaying back and forth, before kneeling down and beginning to pick up the shards of glass from the floor. “He’s really gone.”

Jack’s mind was floating away from her body. Ben’s dead. He saved me! But why? He had his whole life ahead of him. Was it just instinct? She cradled her head in her hands and looked away.

At this point, the nurse had reentered and was bustling about as if this was normal. Of course it was normal for her. She watched the two patients grieving, but didn’t say anything.

Liam reached out towards the body and grabbed a fistful of the sheets before letting it go and dropping to one side. There was no sound save the clink of glass fragments together. Bailey was calmly cleaning up the remains of the cup in one corner. Her face betrayed no sign of emotion, save an extra flush around her already-red cheeks.

“Stay as long as you want. But I suggest you get some rest,” the nurse suggested kindly, setting down the probably-mandatory vase of white flowers on the bedside table. Jack barely heard her words—it felt like she was sinking and that chains were wrapping around her legs, aggravating her burns and pulling her further down. Ben can’t die. Nobody’s supposed to die. It was all too much for her. She leaned up against the bedside, took Liam’s hand, and cried softly. Before the nurse left, Jack heard her say softly, “It’ll get better. I promise.”