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I don't disagree with him. But looking at Jackson's leg, I am seeing an actual miracle of science in front of my face. And damn if that doesn't give me hope.
“We can deal with that when or if the time comes. For now, how quickly do we want to move forward?” I ask.
“Now,” says Six, already holding the supplies for the next blood draw. “We do it now.”
Without hesitating, Micah starts the process of drawing her blood into tubes for the centrifuge. He fills more tubes this time.
Dr. Franks finally shakes himself out of his stupor. “I have never seen anything like this,” he says. “Jackson, would you be okay with taking some x-rays so we can see how extensive the healing is?”
“Of course, doc.”
“Wait,” I say. “How are we going to explain a magically healed leg? There's no way this isn't going to go unnoticed. We were hoping for less pain, maybe a slightly elevated healing rate. I don't think any of us even considered…this.”
“He's right,” Lukas interjects. “Healing quickly is one thing, but this rate of healing could attract a lot of attention. We don't want to risk anyone ending up as a lab rat.”
“Again,” adds Six in a small voice. “But if it saves Bennet, I don't care. I'll give blood every day for the rest of my life.”
Micah comes out of the bathroom, the mechanical whirring of the centrifuge in the background.
“I agree with Luis and Lukas. Attracting attention is not a good idea. There are too many things that could go badly. Think of how many government employees were on Adley's payroll. You think people like that have any qualms with keeping a medical anomaly prisoner for all manner of tests and experiments? Not to mention that, as far as the government is concerned, you don't exist. That only gives them ammunition to keep you isolated and imprisoned.”
I'm watching Dr. Franks closely, analyzing every reaction and facial expression.
Six trusted him to a fraction of the truth and accepted his help, but seeing a miracle play out before his very eyes might change how he thinks of things. On one hand, there's the potential for a lot of money to be made from something like this. I'd almost trust him to not betray us for money.
He's a well-meaning, caring physician—which is exactly the danger here. He has to be thinking about the medical advancements that could be made by studying an anomaly like Six. The lives that could be saved. He'd be a hero.
It's taking everything inside me not to knock him out and hide him in a closet until we figure out what to do next.
Jackson stands in front of me, blocking my view with a hand on my shoulder. “Dude, calm down. Give him a chance. You're giving off some heavily terrifying murder vibes right now,” he whispers.
He flinches a little when I focus my gaze on him. I stare at him so hard I feel sure he’d combust if I held his eyes long enough.
“I don't care how many people she could save or how miraculous she is. We are not putting her at risk of living at the mercy of scientists ever again. Ever,” I growl.
“As if I'd let that happen.” Jackson squares up to me, and I am not in the right headspace to calmly tell him to step back.
Micah squeezes himself between us. The lack of space between me and other bodies is becoming overwhelming. Breathing in and out through my nose, I close my eyes and try not to lose control. The last time that happened, I ended up arrested.
“Take a walk, Luis.”
“I'm not going to let—”
“Take. A. Walk. You're not going to help the situation. None of us are going to let anything happen to her.”
“If Franks—”
“Take. A. Walk. Now.” Micah pushes me back a bit, and that's the last straw. Heat pricks up the back of my neck and spreads over my head and body. My fists clench.
My head feels like it’s in a pressure cooker. It takes everything I have not to explode. Finally, I summon the wherewithal to turn on my heel and march out of the room.
Breathing heavily, I pace the living room before heading into the spare bedroom and stripping off my clothes to take a cold shower. There's no punching bag here to take out the aggression on, and I'm not leaving this room for anything.
How could we be so stupid? We should have waited until we were alone to discuss the possibilities and the plan once the idea came to us. As much as Dr. Franks has done for us and risked for us, I don't think we can trust him with something this big. He's too good, too caring about the lives of his patients to not want to do something bigger with what he learned today.
The frigid water pours over my heated skin, but it isn't enough. My fist flies into the wall, pain exploding behind my knuckles as it hits the tile backsplash. Rearing back, I punch the wall again and again, until the mental pain becomes mostly physical. Resting my head against the tile, I watch the water wash blood and small shards of tile down the drain.
I'm not sure how long I stand there like that, but by the time I'm calm enough, the cold has seeped into my bones and numbed my skin. I wrap a towel around my waist, and a hand towel around my hand before sitting on the edge of the bed frame, my elbows resting on my knees and my head in my hands.
