Chapter 10

By the time we'd finished talking and Vania left, my eyelids drooped, and I slipped back into unconsciousness. When I woke again, Milo was sprawled on the couch, engrossed in an ancient tome, its leather cover cracked with age.
“Anayo’ll skin you alive for sneaking out one of her relics from the Library” I rasped.
Milo glanced up, flashing a grin. “You mean if she finds out.”
I shook my head, feigning pity. Proffessor Olanna Anayo, Black Rose’s fierce librarian, guarded her collection like a wolverine. Small, with spiky hair and blocky glasses, she cherished her ancient books, allowing access only with clearance and her hawk-like supervision. Yet Milo always managed to smuggle them out. How he hadn’t been caught—or worse—baffled me.
Milo tossed a book at me and I caught it mid-air, flipping it over to confirm it’s what I asked for; A book on middle-eastern languages. I stare at the cover pensively lost in thought, recalling the boy’s earnest face, his deep eyes, the way he had looked in the end.
“Uh-oh,” Milo said, sliding to the foot of my bed. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
He squinted, pouting dramatically. I laughed. “I don’t look like that.”
Milo chuckled but sobered quickly, his gray eyes searching mine. “Water?”
“Beer’d be better,” I quipped.
He shook his head, fetching a cup. I gulped it down, grateful, then eyed him. “You haven’t asked what happened.”
Milo shrugged. “Didn’t feel right. You’ve been in a coma for weeks, man. Plenty of time for questions.”
“Weeks?” I froze, the word sinking in. “Coma?” My mind raced. If I made it back… “What about Cato and the others?” I blurted, catching Milo’s wince. “They didn’t make it, did they?”
Milo stared at me “ Stop playing man” He said. He must have seen something in my face because the next question he asked was “ You really didn’t know?”
I shake my head.
“So what were you and your sister talking about then?”
I recall Vania’s stern, worried glance when I narrated what had happened to her, how she had leaned pretty close so I didn’t have to talk too loudly. How she had left almost immediately I finished.
I said “She didn’t tell me any of that” I reached for Milo’s arm “ tell me man, please.”
He hesitated, then sighed, closing the book. “What happened, Sami?”
“You first,” I pressed. “Everyone’s been tiptoeing around me. since I woke up”
Milo glanced at the door, wary. “They said not to talk until your debrief.”
So that’s why Vania hadn’t said anything. “Come on, you’re my best friend.”
He looked miserable but I had to know what everyone was hiding so I pushed some more.
“I need to know, Milo.”
He braced himself. “Approximately 8 hours after you guys were inserted into the light, you came back. No one knows how — you weren't primed for extraction, channels weren’t open.” His eyes stayed on the floor. “You came back but you wouldn’t wake up, so they put you in a med-vac to stabilize.”
“And the others?” I press.
“We kept the channel open just in case,” he said. “Hours later, Cato, Jonas, and Chani came through. Mission was logged as a fail; and the operatives were pulled from stasis.”
A sinking dread gripped me and I swallowed hard. “What happened?”
“It wasn’t them,” Milo said, voice low. “Something else came through, wearing their skin like suits. By the time we realized, half the on-duty personnel in recovery were dead.” Milo looked at me, his eyes haunted "The... they ripped people apart with their bare hands, man".
My eyes widened, the kid and the hooded figure flashing in my mind. “That’s why you asked if I was me? You thought I’d go… crazy?”
Milo smirked faintly. “It's why we kept you immobilized.”
I nodded, thoughts spinning. I’d seen my team torn apart by Reavers, yet here I was, alive. How? The figure in the rafters flickered in my memory— whatever it did had yanked me from the Light, back to my body.
“Uh-oh,” Milo said, frowning. “There's that look again.”
I grinned, beckoning him closer. “Help me up.”
“Not wise,” he warned. “You need rest.”
“Help me, or I’ll punch you when I do it myself.”
Milo sighed, steadying me as my feet hit the cool tiled floor. Nausea surged, nearly dropping me, but I gritted my teeth. “I’ve been in bed long enough.”
“Agreed!” A booming voice startled us, nearly toppling me from Milo’s grip.
Dr. Bruma Morgeau, BlackRose’s COO, stood at the door, flanked by two nurses. The chubby, obsidian-skinned man sported a bulbous nose, quick intelligent eyes, and a thick beard streaked with gray.
“Latherby,” he barked. “Weren’t you told to watch the boy and report changes as soon as they occur?”
Milo swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
Bruma eyed him for a long silent moment. “Perhaps, you want to return that book to the library before Professor Olanna finds out it’s gone and skins you alive?”
Milo squeezed my shoulder, grabbed his book, and slipped out. I hobbled to the bed, collapsing breathlessly. Bruma lingered at the door, then strode closer, his eyes glinting with mirth.
“So, Ilia,” he said. “I hear you have quite the tale.”