Baine stomped around the bed and snagged Iggy by his upper arm and lifted him straight off of the floor. He tossed him back onto the mattress, threw one side of the covers over him, and pinned him in place. "This is Emi, the Silgria's New Generation."
Iggy spat, "whose what?!"
Baine's face crumpled out of frustration. "She's the one that we needed to go get. Her survival is just as important as yours."
"I don't know what you are talking about!" he thrashed.
Nansen pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just explained this to you five seconds ago."
"You're so selfish!" Baine clenched the blanket in his fists and dug his knuckles into the bed. "You weren't paying any attention were you? You were only thinking about yourself!"
"You can't blame me for being a bit self-centered!" Iggy fired back. "It's not every day that I have someone feast on my face and I practically die!"
Emi leaned nearer, breaking up the building tension between the two. "And…" her voice was so fragile, "you are Iggy. I know about you." Her hand lifted and her finger pointed toward his head. "How were you hurt? It looks serious."
Baine stood upright and Iggy propped himself up onto an elbow. He lifted his fingers up toward his face and caressed the rough bandage edge. "It's none of your business." His tone had the power to incite anger in others. "Where did you come from, anyway?"
"See?" Baine jerked a hand toward Emi. "She's had a much worse week than you, and she still has the consideration to ask about your injuries instead of addressing her own! Take a lesson!"
Nansen stepped forward, raising both of his hands. "Alright, alright," he waved his fingers downward. "You two are getting really loud."
Iggy fell down onto his back, then rolled onto his side so that he faced away from Emi. Nansen glanced down at the bowl of cold uneaten potatoes sitting on the bedside table, and he took it in his hands and held it out. "Take this," he said to her. "You look like you're starving."
At the sight of it her mouth watered and she swallowed hard. She hadn't consumed anything for the last four days other than sips of raindrops that flowed down through the rubble of her home. Dust was still caked to her scalp and the backs of her hands. She scooped the bowl up, poured the potatoes into her mouth from the tilted edge like soup, and only moments later the whole bowl was empty. She returned it to the table and fell back into the pillows. Her arm came up to her head, accidentally brushing Iggy's tricep with her elbow.
He impatiently and intolerantly shoved her elbow back into her own bony chest. "Don't touch me," he hissed and huffed and then slammed his head into the pillow. His arms crossed over his ribs. Given one minute of silence, his eyes crept shut. Given another, and he was already asleep.
Nansen and Baine glanced at each other. "After everything that's happened," Nansen chuckled, "I'm surprised that he had any strength to even put up a fight."
Baine pulled his shoulder back. "Oh God, he is stubborn…" He peered down at Emi. "Sorry about-" Then, he noticed that she was also asleep, and he smirked. "Non-infected people are so weak. Look, they're both sleeping, already."
Nansen looked, too, criss crossing his fingers and bringing them to his cheek. "Awe," he cooed and smiled adoringly. "Can you imagine how they'll be when they are infected? Sleeping all the time. Smelling so good."
"Sure, whatever," Baine dismissed his admiration. "I'm out of here." He turned to leave the room, but Nansen stepped forward with an arm extended.
"Wait!" he called. Baine turned around and Nansen rushed to say, "I need a break. I have been here since nightfall."
"Oh yeah…" Baine walked to the bedside chair and sat down. "Sorry, I didn't realize."
Nansen shifted toward the door. "Also... " he added, "Iggy tried leaping head first out of the window while you were gone."
Baine straightened his back. "He did what?"
Nansen nodded. "You heard me right. I suggest that we make this room a bit safer." He stepped through the door. "Bye."
Baine glanced around the bedroom and saw large amounts of art supplies, sharp utensils, and strings. A million things that could be used to kill or at the very least injure oneself. "I thought I'd be able to rest now," he sighed. He stood and began working to clean out the room of suicide hazards, all while the two slept like rocks.
Emi's warmth was a magnet for Iggy, but he wouldn't have known. Through the night, he inched closer and closer to her until his flank was pressed flat against hers. Her touch was warm like an inviting fire. He could feel it clearly, better than he felt the mattress underneath or the blanket above.
She didn't mind, either. At home, she never slept alone. She dreamt that she was home again, in her bed, and her little sister Sarah laid next to her, humming an obnoxiously repetitive tune. It was typical for a seven year old. There was a smell of root vegetables in the air, coming from the kitchen stove, even though it was summer and out of season.
Iggy's arm extended over her back. She felt the weight, noting that it was heavier than Sarah's, and she opened her eyes. The bandaged swollen face across from hers was unknown, unfamiliar. Her head pulled up and the smell of boiled root vegetables became stronger.
On the bedside table there was a steaming bowl of potatoes and carrots. She propped herself up, sliding his arm off of her, and came to sitting. She took the bowl into her lap and cupped the warmth with her hands.
The memories were coming back to her. Why she was there. How she had gotten there… She stood from the bed. Baine sat back in his chair tucked away in the corner sleeping with his arms crossed over his chest. She ate quietly, not to disturb him, but then Iggy shuffled behind her.
His dream was nothing like her heaven. He could see the dark haired woman leaning over him, smiling with her vicious teeth, drooling on his face. He squirmed beneath her grasp, but he couldn't get free. His leg kicked, his arm whacked the mattress next to himself, and he groaned something.
Abruptly, he shot up to sitting. His chest retracted as he panted. A layer of sweat gathered across his forehead. His eyes were large and round, looking, but not seeing. He held his right arm out to feel for anything in his personal space. He felt his bed, his blanket, and his legs. His head dropped and he caught his breath. Then, he cupped the side of his head with his palm, and in an instant, he started to weep.
Emi grasped the bowl tighter in between her hands, unsure of what to do. "Iggy…" she cleared her throat.
He scratched the tears from his eyes and sniffled. His voice was raw and angry. "You're still here?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "Here," she held out the bowl. "Someone brought us food."
He threw his hand out, attempting to hit the bowl out of her hand, but he was far off target. He growled and stomped up to his feet. Feeling with the palms of his hands, he followed the wall to the curtain covered window. He uncovered it and placed his hands on the latch. As he went to pry it open, the handle wouldn't turn. He grasped it in his fist and lashed it back and forth. Still, it wouldn't budge. He found the next window and had the same result. Furious, he ventured away from the wall with his hand out. He stubbed his toe on his desk and nearly knocked over a lamp. His furniture had been rearranged.