Chapter Fifteen
Makey’s life hung in the balance over the next few hours. Erielle had transfused the artificial blood and carefully sutured closed the wound in his neck, but he didn’t seem to get any better for a while. His pulse was weak, and he remained clammy and unconscious. Sayen, Jas, Carl, and Erielle took turns sitting by his bed so that someone would be there when—if—he woke up, or in case he got worse.
Sayen was asleep in the early hours of the morning when the news finally came. Carl shook her shoulder to wake her. “Makey?” she mumbled as she came to.
“Yeah. He’s woken up. I think he’s going to be okay. Do you want to come and see him?”
She sat up and pulled on her shirt and pants. She was in a sleeping bag in a communal bedroom. Underworlders lay around her in various state
