Rebel by Rachel Manija Brown & Sherwood Smith

Author:Rachel Manija Brown & Sherwood Smith [Brown, Rachel Manija & Smith, Sherwood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: distopia
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2017-05-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen: Becky

Becky slowly pulled on the sterile kelp gloves as Dr. Lee laid out the instruments for the surgery. A memory flashed briefly—a man’s hands setting the gloves on a surgical tray—and then she was back to the present moment. As far as she could tell, Dr. Lee hadn’t noticed a thing. She was getting more control over her power, but it was no consolation when it returned her to a place she didn’t want to be.

On the table, Mrs. Hattendorf mumbled something about keeping the tea cozy warm, then trailed off into a snore. Dr. Lee picked up her limp wrist, checking her pulse. “She’s out. Ready?”

Becky swallowed, her throat dry as sand. She told herself sternly that she had assisted at hundreds of surgeries, including far more complicated ones than removing an appendix. She’d even threaded a needle and stitched up wounds. But picking up a scalpel and cutting into a living, breathing person made her stomach go cold.

“It’s normal to be nervous about your first surgery,” Dr. Lee said. “But being timid doesn’t do the patient any favors. Your first cut needs to be bold. All the way through the layers of muscle.”

Mrs. Hattendorf’s stomach was painted with greenish antiseptic, but nothing could disguise the rise and fall of her breathing.

Becky picked up the scalpel. Her hand shook. She stiffened her fingers.

“One bold stroke,” Dr. Lee said firmly.

The surgery would save Mrs. Hattendorf’s life. But it felt so . . . violent.

“We don’t want to keep her out for too long,” Dr. Lee warned her. “It’s not healthy.”

Becky swallowed down an unreasonable flare of anger. Dr. Lee couldn’t use his power to heal an inflamed appendix. If he sped up time for Mrs. Hattendorf, her appendix would burst and kill her. He had to wait until the infected organ was removed, and then make the incision heal quickly.

It was up to her.

She remembered what it felt like to slice through the slabs of meat Dr. Lee had made her practice on. Trying not to think about what she was doing, she let muscle memory take over and sliced into Mrs. Hattendorf’s belly.

One bold stroke.

Blood welled up shockingly fast, but Dr. Lee quickly clamped down on the bleeding vessels. “Excellent, Becky. Now find the appendix.”

She had seen the insides of people’s bodies lots of times, but the mess of blood and pink tissue her scalpel had exposed looked alien and incomprehensible. Then she whispered the sequence of steps to herself, and her fingers moved obediently. Locate, isolate, clamp, cut, lift. Check, then stitch.

She took her first deep breath when she finished her neat line of seaweed stitches. Blood welled up between them. Dr. Lee laid his hand over the incision, and the wound closed and became a pink line: one week healed.

“Congratulations,” Dr. Lee said, dabbing a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “Your very first surgery. Let’s finish up, and I’ll take you to Jack’s for a celebratory dinner. The special tonight is liver and onions.

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