The Host (The Host #1)(192)

I so much wished that the soul had waited for an answer, so I could have tried to explain it to him. He might even have understood. After all, what was more important, in the end, than love? To a soul, wasn’t that the heart of everything? And love would have been my answer.

Maybe, if he’d waited, he would have seen the truth of that. If he’d really understood, I was sure he would have let the human body live.

The request would probably have made little sense to him, though. The body was his body, not a separate entity. His suicide was simply that to him, not a murder, too. Only one life had ended. And perhaps he was right.

At least the souls had survived. The light on his tank glowed dull red beside hers; I couldn’t ask for a greater evidence of commitment from my humans than this, the sparing of his life.

“Mary? Margaret? Susan? Jill?”

Though Doc slept and I was otherwise alone, I could feel the echo of the tension the others had left behind; it still hung in the air.

The tension lingered because the woman had not woken up when the chloroform wore off. She had not moved. She was still breathing, her heart was still beating, but she had not responded to any of Doc’s efforts to revive her.

Was it too late? Was she lost? Was she already gone? Just as dead as the male body?

Were all of them? Were there only a very few, like the Seeker’s host, Lacey, and Melanie—the shouters, the resisters—who could be brought back? Was everyone else gone?

Was Lacey an anomaly? Would Melanie come back the way she had… or was even that in question?

I’m not lost. I’m here. But Mel’s mental voice was defensive. She worried, too.

Yes, you are here. And you will stay here, I promised.

With a sigh, I returned to my efforts. My doomed efforts?

“I know you have a name,” I told the woman. “Is it Rebecca? Alexandra? Olivia? Something simpler, maybe… Jane? Jean? Joan?”

It was better than nothing, I thought glumly. At least I’d given them a way to help themselves if they were ever taken. I could help the resisters, if no one else.

It didn’t seem like enough.

“You’re not giving me much to work with,” I murmured. I took her hand in both of mine, chafed it softly. “It would really be nice if you would make an effort. My friends are going to be depressed enough. They could use some good news. Besides, with Kyle still gone… It will be hard to evacuate everyone without having to carry you around, too. I know you want to help. This is your family here, you know. These are your kind. They’re very nice. Most of them. You’ll like them.”

The gently lined face was vacant with unconsciousness. She was quite pretty in an inconspicuous way—her features very symmetrical on her oval face. Forty-five, maybe a little younger, maybe a little older. It was hard to tell with no animation in the face.

“They need you,” I went on, pleading now. “You can help them. You know so much that I never knew. Doc tries so hard. He deserves some help. He’s a good man. You’ve been a Healer for a while now; some of that care for the well-being of others must have rubbed off on you. You’ll like Doc, I think.

“Is your name Sarah? Emily? Kristin?”

I stroked her soft cheek, but there was no response, so I took her limp hand in mine again. I gazed at the blue sky through the holes in the high ceiling. My mind wandered.

“I wonder what they’ll do if Kyle never comes back. How long will they hide? Will they have to find a new home somewhere else? There are so many of them.… It won’t be easy. I wish I could help them, but even if I could stay, I don’t have any answers.

“Maybe they’ll get to stay here… somehow. Maybe Kyle won’t mess up.” I laughed humorlessly, thinking of the odds. Kyle wasn’t a careful man. However, until that situation was resolved, I was needed. Maybe, if there were Seekers looking, they would need my infallible eyes. It might take a long time, and that made me feel warmer than the sun on my skin. Made me feel grateful that Kyle was impetuous and selfish. How long until we were sure we were safe?

“I wonder what it’s like here when it gets cold. I can barely re-member feeling cold. And what if it rains? It has to rain here sometime, doesn’t it? With all these holes in the roof, it must get really wet. Where does everyone sleep then, I wonder.” I sighed. “Maybe I’ll get to find out. Probably shouldn’t bet on that, though. Aren’t you curious at all? If you would wake up, you could get the answers. I’m curious. Maybe I’ll ask Ian about it. It’s funny to imagine things changing here.… I guess summer can’t last forever.”

Her fingers fluttered for one second in my hand.

It took me by surprise because my mind had wandered away from the woman on the cot, beginning to sink into the melancholy that was always conveniently near these days.

I stared down at her; there was no change—the hand in mine was limp, her face still vacant. Maybe I’d imagined the movement.

“Did I say something you were interested in? What was I talking about?” I thought quickly, watching her face. “Was it the rain? Or was it the idea of change? Change? You’ve got a lot of that ahead of you, don’t you? You have to wake up first, though.”

Her face was empty, her hand motionless.

“So you don’t care for change. Can’t say that I blame you. I don’t want change to come, either. Are you like me? Do you wish the summer could last?”