Chapter 96 Aftermath
ISLA
The shelter clinic smells like blood and antiseptic. I've been working for six hours straight. Treating the wounded from the blood club rescue.
Danny's on the cot nearest me. Shoulder wound from silver bullet. I've extracted the bullet, cleaned the wound, stitched it closed. But silver poisoning is spreading. His healing is suppressed.
"How bad?" he asks.
"Bad. You'll live but recovery takes weeks." I wrap the bandage. "No combat for at least a month."
"We don't have a month."
"I know." I move to the next patient.
Tom's unconscious. Magic overuse nearly killed him. He's breathing but barely. Internal bleeding from the spell battle with Professor Fell. I've done what I can but he needs rest. Weeks of it.
Valentina's sitting in the corner. Physical injuries are minor. Silver burns from the cell. Dehydration. Malnutrition from two days of captivity.
But the psychological damage is worse. I can see it in her eyes. Mordaunt showed her mother's execution footage. Told her she'd die on the same stake. That kind of trauma doesn't heal quickly.
"How are you feeling?" I ask her.
"Alive." She's staring at the wall. "Three people died rescuing me."
"Three people died fighting tyranny. Not for you specifically."
"That's what Callum said." Her voice is hollow. "Doesn't make it feel better."
"It's not supposed to feel better. It's supposed to be true." I check her burns. Healing normally now that she's away from silver. "You're recovering well physically. Emotionally is harder."
"I keep seeing their faces. Kevin. Lisa. Sarah." Valentina's hands shake. "Sarah helped us. Left the clues. Unlocked my cell. She died when the building collapsed."
"She chose to help. Made that decision knowing the risk."
"Why? She didn't know us. Didn't owe us anything."
"Maybe that's exactly why. Because helping strangers is what decent people do." I finish checking her burns. "You're cleared for light activity. No combat for three days."
"We have seven days until Parliamentary hunters arrive. I'll be fighting ready or not."
She's right. Seven days. That's all we have.
I move to the worst case. Callum.
He's on the main cot. Multiple injuries. Silver bullet wound in his side. Deep lacerations across his back from fighting through hunters. Cracked ribs. Possible internal bleeding.
The silver wound is the problem. It's not healing. The poison is spreading through his system. His body's trying to expel it like it did with Professor Fell's formula but silver is different. Silver is physical toxin, not magical.
"How is he?" Valentina appears beside me.
"Not good. The silver's poisoning him faster than his body can heal." I clean the wound again. It's infected. Red and swollen. "He needs hospital-level care. Which we can't provide."
"What happens if he doesn't get it?"
"The infection spreads. Goes septic. Kills him in three to five days."
"Before the hunters even arrive."
"Yes."
Valentina sits beside Callum's cot. Takes his hand. "You idiot. You shouldn't have come for me."
"Had to." Callum's eyes open. He's conscious. Barely. "Couldn't leave you there."
"It was stupid."
"Yeah. But I'm good at stupid." He tries to smile. Winces with pain. "How's everyone else?"
"Three dead. Tom's unconscious. Danny's wounded. Everyone else has minor injuries." I check Callum's temperature. Fever. High. "You're the worst case. Silver poisoning is critical."
"Can you fix it?"
"I can slow it. Can't stop it completely. You need specialized treatment. Magical healing or hospital-level antibiotics."
"We don't have either."
"I know."
Callum closes his eyes. "Seven days. Just need to last seven days."
"You might not make it seven days if this infection doesn't improve."
"Then I better improve." He's trying to sound confident. Failing. "What's the crew status? Who's combat ready?"
"Out of eighty wolves, maybe forty can fight. The rest are too young, too old, too wounded, or non-combatants." I've been tracking this. Preparing for the inevitable. "Parliamentary hunters will outnumber us two to one at minimum."
"Odds have been worse."
"When?"
"I'll think of something." He's fading. Fever pulling him under. "Isla, if I don't make it..."
"You're making it. No dramatic deathbed speeches."
"Still. If I don't. You lead. Keep the shelters running. Help newly turned wolves. That matters."
"I'm a nurse, not a leader."
"You're both. Everyone here trusts you." His grip on Valentina's hand tightens. "Promise me. The work continues."
"I promise." The weight of it crushes me. "But you're not dying. I'm not letting you."
"Might not be your choice." He finally passes out. Fever claiming him.
I check his vitals. Pulse is weak. Breathing shallow. The silver poisoning is winning.
Three days. Maybe four. That's how long he has before the infection kills him.
Unless I can find magical healing or proper antibiotics.
The door opens. One of the younger wolves. Danny's sister, Marie.
"Isla, there's a message." She hands me a phone. "From Cormac Brennan."
I read it aloud for Valentina to hear.
"Heard about your rescue. Impressive. But Parliament's coming. When they kill you, I'll take credit for ending the resistance. Sleep well knowing your death serves my political advancement. -Your loving brother"
Valentina's hand tightens into a fist. "He's mocking us."
"He's afraid." I set the phone down. "Callum's building something Cormac can't control. This message is posturing. Trying to convince himself he's winning."
"Is he winning?"
"We're alive. That's not winning for him." I return to Callum's wound. Cleaning it again. Applying fresh antibiotics. "But he's right about one thing. Parliament's coming in seven days. And we're not ready."
"Can we be ready?"
"Honestly? No. Forty fighters against a hundred hunters? We lose that battle."
"Then what do we do?"
"Survive anyway." I finish the bandaging. "Find a third option between fighting and surrendering. Run, hide, evacuate. Something."
"Callum won't run."
"Then we make him." I'm firm on this. "He's the leader. Everyone follows him. If he dies, the resistance dies. We need him alive more than we need him heroic."
Valentina's quiet for a long moment.
"He told me something once," she finally says. "That surviving his brother is revenge. Building community is revenge. Being better than Cormac is the ultimate victory."
"Do you believe that?"
"I want to." She looks at Callum's unconscious form. "But right now it feels like we're just postponing the inevitable. Parliamentary hunters will kill us. Cormac will take credit. Everything we built disappears."
"Maybe. Or maybe we surprise everyone and survive." I start organizing medical supplies. Preparing for the next round of wounded. "We've survived this long. Longer than anyone expected."
"Surviving and winning are different."
"Yes. But we don't need to win. We just need to not lose." I inventory the antibiotics. Running low. Three days' worth at current usage. "If we can hold out past the extermination order, if we can prove we're too difficult to eliminate easily, Parliament might back down."
"You don't believe that."
"No. But it's better than accepting we're all dead." I'm being honest. Always been honest. "Seven days. We use every hour. Prepare defenses. Train fighters. Stock supplies. Evacuate non-combatants. Do everything possible to maximize survival."
"And if it's not enough?"
"Then we die fighting. Together. As a community." I meet her eyes. "Better than dying alone in gutters. Which is where we'd be without Callum."
Valentina nods slowly. Understanding.
The door opens again. More wounded arriving. Three wolves from a patrol that ran into Cormac's enforcers. Two with stab wounds. One with broken arm.
"Here we go again," I mutter. "Get them on cots. I'll be right there."
The work never stops. Wounded keeps coming. The shelter keeps needing me.
Seven days until extermination.
Callum's dying from silver poisoning.
Tom's unconscious from magic overuse.
Forty fighters against a hundred hunters.
The odds are impossible.
But I keep working anyway.
Because someone has to.
Because these wolves deserve medical care even if they're doomed.
Because giving up isn't an option.
Seven days.
We'll make them count.