Clear Water, Hidden Danger

Chapter 26 - No Rest for the Weary

By the time I left the control room, the sun was already past its highest point. The hum of the generators steadied in the background, masking the thoughts still ricocheting in my head. The data drive from Major Jackson burned a silent weight in my pocket.

He walked the catwalk above the filtration tanks, blinking against the harsh light. Two hours staring at classified footage had left him hollow. Whatever was buried under Well House 27 wasn’t just another bunker. It was part of a pattern—and he was sitting right on top of it.

He made it halfway across the yard before my vision blurred. The concussion that Cruz warned him about finally caught up. By the time he reached the med bay door, my balance had gone sideways.

Inside, Alex and Carmen were already there. The clock on the far wall read just past 3 PM.

The med bay lights were too bright. My head throbbed in rhythm with the pulse he could still feel from the footage.

Alex stood beside the cot, arms folded, that same tired fire in her eyes. Carmen hovered nearby with a clipboard, professional and stern.

“You’re supposed to stay awake,” Alex said. “Head injuries like that—you don’t just walk it off.”

I groaned and sat up slowly. “I didn’t walk it off. I drove it off.”

“Not funny,” Carmen said.

“You two been here all day?” he muttered.

“Since you stumbled in,” Alex said. “Neal said you dropped like a bag of concrete once you cleared medical.”

“I remember sitting down,” he said. “Not much after that.”

Alex handed him water. “Drink. Then sleep.”

“Pretty sure that’s the opposite of what you just said.”

Carmen crossed her arms. “Alex is right. You need monitoring. Concussions can mess with coordination and judgment.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You saying I didn’t have those problems before?”

Carmen didn’t laugh. “You’re lucky that hit didn’t crack your skull.”

Alex exhaled, torn between relief and frustration. “Just stay up a few hours, please.”

Marie stirred near the door, rubbing her eyes. “Daddy?”

I softened. “Hey, sweet girl.” He motioned her closer. “You keeping your mom in line?”

“She says you don’t listen,” she mumbled, crawling up beside him.

He smirked. “Smart kid.”

Alex shot him a look. “Don’t encourage her.”

Marie giggled, resting her head against my arm. The sound was small but it softened the whole room.

I leaned back, eyes heavy. “Just need a few hours.”

Alex sat beside him, voice low. “You’ve earned it. Just… don’t make me regret letting you.”

He nodded. “You won’t.”

As he drifted, a faint vibration rippled through the floor—too light for the others to notice, too familiar for him to ignore.

A pulse.