Folsom (End of Men, #1)(20)

Corinne shoots me an annoyed look, and when she speaks again, her voice is cold. “Gwen, in case you haven’t noticed, men have been nearly extinct for the last fifty years. If we don’t do something, we’ll follow right behind them. The End Men…this boy…they’re our last hope. We’ve brought him here to learn more about why this has happened. He’s less than three years away from joining the End Men himself. We need this time with him. Run the tests.” She shoves a stack of papers into my hands and frowns at me. “Can I count on you to do this?”

I nod, though my insides are churning and I want to be sick. She starts to walk away.

“Corinne,” I call. “What’s his name?”

“Laticus,” she calls over her shoulder. “Laticus Donahue.”





ELEVEN





FOLSOM


I wake up alone and in a white room. I’m tied down. No, I’m attached. Machines beep incessantly behind my shoulders, cords and tubes needling into my skin. I can feel the pump, pump, pump of the liquids, the cold chill as they creep through my veins. I try to remember how I got here, but whatever they’re feeding me through these tubes has made my brain languid. How did you get here, I ask myself, but my thoughts have no cohesion. Then I see Gwen’s face; she materializes from a door. At first I think I’m dreaming because she looks like a floating head, but then I realize she’s wearing all white and blending in with the walls.

“What happened?” I ask. Fuck, I still sound drunk. Her lips tighten into a stiff line.

“The doctor will be here in a minute to talk to you.” She looks over her shoulder then leans over me and quietly says, “You had a heart attack, Folsom.”

I try to sit up, but she places a hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down. “Don’t you dare,” she warns. “Idiot man.”

I smile at that one. So rarely do women insult me. What a treat. And then I remember the lottery and the girl. We’d gone up to the room. Had I fucked her? Yes, I recall something about that. I’d gone to take a leak and then…nothing.

“The girl,” I ask. “Is she okay?”

“What girl?” Gwen snaps. Suddenly her facial expression changes. “Oh,” she says. “She’s in a bit of trouble. She didn’t call for help right away.”

“She was probably scared,” I say. The door opens and a woman with grey hair walks in frowning.

“Folsom,” she says. “You gave us quite the scare. I’m Doctor Hunley.”

“Sorry to give you trouble, doc. That’s what men do.”

She glances at me from where she’s examining one of the machines, not sure how to take me.

“A joke, doctor,” I say, leaning my head back against the pillows and closing my eyes. There’s nothing worse than someone not getting your humor.

She raises an eyebrow. “Glad to see you’re well enough to joke.”

“I feel like shit actually. Can I have something to drink?”

She nods to Gwen, tells her to bring me water. I’d meant an actual drink—the type grownups use to deal with difficult life situations. Apparently, I’m not funny anymore.

“You had an ST-segment elevation myocardial infarction—or in layman’s terms, a heart attack. We’ve been notified that you take medication to help you perform your duties.” She pauses to look at me over the file she’s holding. I nod slowly, confirming my little blue pills, and she continues. “Combined with daily alcohol usage and a history of high blood pressure, it most likely contributed to a blockage in your arteries.”

Gwen walks back into the room carrying a pitcher of water and a glass. She sets them down on a table and wheels it over to me. I make a face to let her know that’s not the kind of drink I want, and she rolls her eyes. I notice that she looks worried and for a minute I wonder if she’s worried about me. No, I remind myself, none of them are worried about me as a person. They’re worried about me as an End Man. I return my attention to the doctor who is talking about my recovery.

“I can’t stop taking the pills,” I interrupt. “If you want me to impregnate three women a day, the pills are necessary.”

“Mr. Donahue, I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation. Your life is at risk. If you continue to live the lifestyle you have been living, I guarantee you’ll have another heart attack, and next time we may not be as successful in saving your life.”

“My life is less important than that of the well-being of society, is it not? In fact, my life becomes completely useless to all twelve of the Regions if I cannot produce children. But go ahead, check with your superiors and see what they say. I guarantee you they won’t advise taking me off the pills.” I settle back against the pillows and accept the glass Gwen holds out to me. As far as I’m concerned the conversation is over. The Regions would never so much as allow a leave of absence. They’ll expect me to be back on my feet and fulfilling my duties in less than a week.

Doctor Hunley considers me for a moment, a deep frown on her already worn face. “As my patient, you are my absolute priority, Mr. Donahue. Your health takes priority over any agenda the Statehouse may have. I will speak to them.”

She leaves the room before I can reply and I decide that I like her.