Sea of Dreams

  * * *

  “Another biology lesson,” Kara was saying. “Hyperacute rejection of donated tissues usually applies to donated organs. But the principle is the same. If her immune system sees your blood as incompatible, then her system will start to attack the foreign bodies. And by the way, I think we would have seen symptoms by now, so stop worrying.”

  Zach grumbled.

  “Eat some more, too,” Kara chastised. “Build up your blood again. I know it’s instant oatmeal, but it’s better than beef jerky.”

  “I feel better,” I said. “I’ll eat the oatmeal.”

  They didn’t say anything, so I wasn’t sure they heard me. But when I opened my eyes they were at the end of the bed staring at me. The sun was up, as indicated by the amount of light pouring into the room, and I was ready to move around. Zach was shirtless with a bandage wrapped around the middle of his arm. One hand held a bowl of what I assumed was instant oatmeal. Kara had a t-shirt on that looked like it was a triple X size and she was only a medium-sized woman. Their eyes were red with fatigue.

  “You know, I have a question,” I said when no one else said anything. “Why does a glow stick work and a bullet doesn’t? Aren’t both a chemical reaction? I don’t get it.”