The Host_ A Novel - Stephenie Meyer [185]
“His leg?” I demanded.
“There’s a little infection,” Ian murmured. “Doc wants him to stay down or he’d have come to get you a long time ago. If Jared wasn’t practically pinning him to the bed, he would have come anyway.”
Jeb nodded. “Jared almost came here and carried you out by force, but I told him to let me speak to you first. It wouldn’t do the kid any good to see you catatonic.”
My blood felt as though it had changed into ice water. Surely just my imagination.
“What’s being done?”
Jeb shrugged. “Nothin’ to do. Kid’s strong; he’ll fight it off.”
“Nothing to do? What do you mean?”
“It’s a bacterial infection,” Ian said. “We don’t have antibiotics anymore.”
“Because they don’t work-the bacteria are smarter than your medicines. There has to be something better, something else.”
“Well, we don’t have anything else,” Jeb said. “He’s a healthy kid. It just has to run its course.”
“Run… its… course.” I murmured the words in a daze.
“Eat something,” Ian urged. “You’ll worry him if he sees you like this.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to think straight.
Jamie was sick. There was nothing to treat him with here. No options but waiting to see if his body could heal itself. And if it couldn’t…
“No,” I gasped.
I felt as if I were standing on the edge of Walter’s grave again, listening to the sound of sand falling into the darkness.
“No,” I moaned, fighting against the memory.
I turned mechanically and started walking with stiff strides toward the exit.
“Wait,” Ian said, but he didn’t pull against the hand he still held. He kept pace with me.
Jeb caught up to me on the other side and shoved more food into my free hand.
“Eat for the kid’s sake,” he said.
I bit into it without tasting, chewed without thinking, swallowed without feeling the food go down.
“Knew she was gonna overreact,” Jeb grumbled.
“So why did you tell her?” Ian asked, frustrated.
Jeb didn’t answer. I wondered why he didn’t. Was this worse even than I imagined?
“Is he in the hospital?” I asked in an emotionless, inflectionless voice.
“No, no,” Ian assured me quickly. “He’s in your room.”
I didn’t even feel relief. Too numb for that.
I would have gone into that room again for Jamie, even if it was still reeking of blood.
I didn’t see the familiar caves I walked through. I barely noticed that it was day. I couldn’t meet the eyes of any of the humans who stopped to stare at me. I could only put one foot in front of the other until I finally reached the hallway.
There were a few people clustered in front of the seventh cave. The silk screen was pushed far aside, and they craned their necks to see into Jared’s room. They were all familiar, people I’d considered friends. Jamie’s friends, too. Why were they here? Was his condition so unstable that they needed to check on him often?
“Wanda,” someone said. Heidi. “Wanda’s here.”
“Let her through,” Wes said. He slapped Jeb on the back. “Good job.”
I walked through the little group without looking at them. They parted for me; I might have walked right into them if they hadn’t. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but moving myself forward.
It was bright in the high-ceilinged room. The room itself was not crowded. Doc or Jared had kept everyone out. I was vaguely aware of Jared, leaning against the far wall with his hands clasped behind him-a posture he assumed only when he was really worried. Doc knelt beside the big bed where Jamie lay, just where I had left him.
Why had I left him?
Jamie’s face was red and sweaty. The right leg of his jeans had been cut away, and the bandage was peeled back from his wound. It wasn’t as big as I’d expected. Not as horrible as I would have imagined. Just a two-inch gash with smooth edges. But the edges were a frightening shade of red, and the skin around the cut was swollen and shiny.
“Wanda,” Jamie exhaled when he saw me. “Oh, you’re okay. Oh.” He took