Jack takes a step back as Lyia ties her hair with a bit of string. She reaches forward and hovers both of her hands a knuckle or so over Zeke’s body. When she leans in, he can’t help but look down the neckline of her shirt. It’s a pretty form-fitting tank, so he doesn’t see much, but—Focus, moron!

Jack blinks and wills himself to avert his eyes from her perfect breasts, forcing himself to look instead at her hands over Zeke and get his own heart rate under control. It doesn’t feel good to lie to her, to make her think that he’s ready to stay and die. He’s not. He just got done not dying during his talk with whatever was left of Old Man V. Getting her to focus on healing Zeke is a pretty crap stalling tactic, but it’s the last one he’s got.

“How bad is it?”

No response.

He squats down so he can look up into her face. “Hey. Lyia?”

Her expression oscillates between wonder and confusion, her eyes focused somewhere in the distance. “Pin, I—I don’t know. I can’t make sense of it. There’s more physiology in here than there ought to be for an animal Zeke’s size. For any animal, really. It’s like those nested dolls, except each time I open another layer, the doll inside is even bigger.”

Lyia’s hands start to shake, “I can’t—I can’t get out! It’s like I’m being pulled in.” She looks right at Jack, but it’s like she can barely see him. “Pinny, just what in the world is Zeke?”

“No!” This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. Jack stands and tries to push Lyia back, free of Zeke. She doesn’t budge. It’s like she’s bolted in place. Beads of sweat build up on her arms. He runs around to her back to see if he can pull her off. No luck there either.

The sweat causes him to lose grip and he falls backward, landing rough. Pain radiates across his rib cage as he pulls himself to a seated position. He fires a glare over to Corva, who is looking at them, distracted from her duties of keeping watch. “Do something!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! Anything. You’re the one who’s supposed to be connected to him. Guide her or some shit.”

“Guide her? I hardly even know what Zeke is. You’re the one that’s supposed to have been practicing healing with her. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Lyia’s right arm swings up, her palm facing toward Corva. The movement is so fast, it’s almost mechanical. Judging from the look of distant terror in Lyia’s face, it’s also completely involuntary.

“Touch the palm.” For that moment, Lyia’s voice is smooth and even, though the cadence of the words isn’t quite how she normally speaks. The second she finishes speaking, her mouth starts to quiver and tears start to stream from her eyes. “Shit, Pinny. That wasn’t me. I didn’t say that.”

“Corv—” Whatever amount of insults or begging that Jack had in mind is cut short when he looks at Corva. Her expression is almost the opposite of Lyia’s. There’s surprise, but instead of being overcome with fear, she’s engaged. Drawn closer.

“I know that way of speaking.” She looks back at Jack. “It’s Zeke.” She takes a step closer, but is caught in a moment of hesitation.

“You can tell that from just three words?”

“Well, I—”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I believe you.”

The expression on Corva’s face morphs from surprise to gratitude, hitting a few unidentifiable looks along the way. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. Now do what he—she—shit. Do what they say!”

She stares at him and opens her mouth to respond.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Jack doesn’t give her any time to form real words of protest. He stands. It hurts something awful, but he can’t let that stop him. He stumbles over between Corva and Lyia. He places one hand in the small of Corva’s back and grabs Lyia’s wrist with his other hand. “We’re all probably gonna die anyhow.”

With that, he grits his teeth and shoves Corva, pulling her abdomen into Lyia’s palm.

An instant later, everything has gone white.