The Host (The Host #1)(191)

Time continued to speed up. The brighter lamp was lit. The Healers were given No Pain and laid out facedown on the cots. Jared showed Ian how to activate the tanks. They held them ready, Ian wincing at the stunning cold. Doc stood over the female, scalpel in hand and medicines laid out in a row.

“Wanda?” he asked.

My heart squeezed inward painfully. “Do you swear, Doc? All of my terms? Do you promise me on your own life?”

“I do. I will meet all of your terms, Wanda. I swear it.”

“Jared?”

“Yes. Absolutely no killing, ever.”

“Ian?”

“I’ll protect them with my own life, Wanda.”

“Jeb?”

“It’s my house. Anyone who can’t abide by this agreement will have to get out.”

I nodded, tears in my eyes. “Okay, then. Let’s get it over with.”

Doc, excited again, cut into the Healer until he could see the silver gleam. He set the scalpel quickly aside. “Now what?”

I put my hand on his.

“Trace up the back ridge. Can you feel that? Feel the shape of the segments. They get smaller toward the anterior section. Okay, at the end you should feel three small… stubby things. Do you feel what I’m talking about?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Good. Those are the anterior antennae. Start there. Now, very gently, roll your finger under the body. Find the line of attachments. They’ll feel tight, like wires.”

He nodded.

I guided him a third of the way down, told him how to count if he wasn’t sure. We didn’t have time for counting with all the blood flowing free. I was sure the Healer’s body, if she came around, would be able to help us—there must be something for that. I helped him find the biggest nodule.

“Now, rub softly in toward the body. Knead it lightly.”

Doc’s voice went up in pitch, turned a little panicky. “It’s moving.”

“That’s good—it means you’re doing it right. Give it time to retract. Wait till it rolls up a bit, then take it into your hand.”

“Okay.” His voice shook.

I reached toward Ian. “Give me your hand.”

I felt Ian’s hand wind around mine. I turned it over, curled his hand into a cup, and pulled it close to Doc’s operation site.

“Give the soul to Ian—gently, please.”

Ian would be the perfect assistant. When I was gone, who else would take such care with my little relatives?

Doc passed the soul into Ian’s waiting hand, then turned at once to heal the human body.

Ian stared at the silver ribbon in his hand, his face full of wonder rather than revulsion. It felt warmer inside my chest while I watched his reaction.

“It’s pretty,” he whispered, surprised. No matter how he felt about me, he’d been conditioned to expect a parasite, a centipede, a monster. Cleaning up severed bodies had not prepared him for the beauty here.

“I think so, too. Let it slide into your tank.”

Ian held the soul cupped in his hand for one more second, as if memorizing the sight and feel. Then, with delicate care, he let it glide into the cold.

Jared showed him how to latch the lid.

A weight fell off my shoulders.

It was done. It was too late to change my mind. This didn’t feel as horrible as I’d anticipated, because I felt sure these four humans would care for the souls just as I would. When I was gone.

“Look out!” Jeb suddenly shouted. The gun came up in his hands, pointed past us.

We whirled toward the danger, and Jared’s tank fell to the floor as he jumped toward the male Healer, who was on his knees on the cot, staring at us in shock. Ian had the presence of mind to hold on to his tank.

“Chloroform,” Jared shouted as he tackled the Healer, pinning him back down to the cot. But it was too late.

The Healer stared straight at me, his face childlike in his bewilderment. I knew why his eyes were on me—the lantern’s rays danced off both his eyes and mine, making diamond patterns on the wall.

“Why?” he asked me.

Then his face went blank, and his body slumped, unresisting, to the cot. Two trails of blood flowed from his nostrils.

“No!” I screamed, lurching to his inert form, knowing it was far too late. “No!”

CHAPTER 54

Forgotten

Elizabeth?” I asked. “Anne? Karen? What’s your name? C’mon. I know you know it.”

The Healer’s body was still limp on the cot. It had been a long time—how long, I wasn’t sure. Hours and hours. I hadn’t slept yet, though the sun was far up in the sky. Doc had climbed out onto the mountain to pull the tarps away, and the sun beamed brightly through the holes in the ceiling, hot on my skin. I’d moved the nameless woman so that her face would be out of the glare.

I touched her face now lightly, patting the soft brown hair, woven through with white strands, away from her face.

“Julie? Brittany? Angela? Patricia? Am I getting close? Talk to me. Please?”

Everyone but Doc—snoring quietly on a cot in the darkest corner of the hospital—had gone away hours ago. Some to bury the host body we’d lost. I cringed, thinking of his bewildered question, and the sudden way his face had gone slack.

Why? he’d asked me.