Rubin found the same problems inside the man as were in the first patient—a mixture of animal and human parts that just didn’t fit. “I need you to clear your men out of here, Sean. The men who are capable of hearing telepathically anything Jonquille hears, I need identified. Don’t screw around. We don’t have time for that. I’ll be giving her instructions to try to save one of these men and I can’t have interference. Identify them now, before they leave this room.”
“Andrew and Hudson are both capable of hearing what Jonquille hears,” Sean said.
“Malichai, I need lines in this patient as well. He’s going to need oxygen and blood. We have to put him out. I don’t want his veins collapsing. Same with Leon. I’ll need them side by side, but with enough room for me or Jonquille to get around both patients. I need water for both of us to drink. Two good chairs. If possible, darken the windows in here. If not, keep everyone away. Zeke, I’ll need Joe and Wyatt. Get them here fast. Sean, I need a couple of volunteers willing to donate body parts if necessary, but they have to be the closest to these two in DNA that you are aware of.”
“That would be Christian and Simon,” Sean identified without hesitation.
“If they agree, bring them here along with Hudson and Andrew.” Rubin was snapping orders, aware time was slipping away.
His team was setting up fast as they always did in the field. They were good at it, sterilizing the operating tables, getting lines into veins, transferring patients onto the tables. They had two more makeshift cots waiting for the donors who would be put out as well. Bellisia hurried in, a towel wrapped around her, clothes in hand, looking for a bathroom in which to change. Her blood type was RH-null, a very rare type that was compatible with all types, making her blood very sought after. It meant she was born without any antigens in her blood.
Sean hurried away to find his volunteers and the two men the GhostWalkers had to make absolutely certain they couldn’t hear one single word said between Rubin and Jonquille. Surgery would be done in this room on the two patients, but it wouldn’t be done with scalpels. It would be done with minds. No one could have that information outside their own unit.
Of the two patients, Milo was really laboring to breathe. Both struggled, but Milo couldn’t seem to pull oxygen into his lungs and from his lungs into his bloodstream. Rubin again positioned himself over the man, his palms a scant inch from his chest, Jonquille on the other side, mimicking his action. Her gaze flicked to him.
Rubin gave a slight shake of his head. “We still have company,” he reminded.
Hudson and Andrew were sitting in chairs, frowns on their faces, no doubt wondering what they were doing while doctors appeared to be setting up a makeshift operating room. Malichai approached, asked their names, leaned over them and gave each one a shot. Within moments they slumped over.
“Out. I’ll keep checking them, Rubin. You’ve got a go here,” he reported.
“Our donors are heading to sleep slowly,” Ezekiel said. “They’re both strong and very cooperative. Bellisia despises giving blood, it really hurts her, but she’s ready whenever you need her to transfuse.”
Rubin nodded, his concentration on Milo, assessing the damage to the man’s insides, what parts were usable and then how they could best connect them and make them work long-term. He blocked everything out but the task ahead of him.
This is impossible.
No, it is simply one thing at a time. Surgery, just as if you were in an operating room. We have to keep him breathing. He’s struggling. So that first. Then his blood pumping. Once we deal with those two things, we can fix each problem. He kept his voice calm and certain, infusing her with confidence.
Jonquille followed his lead, dealing with the lung issues first, making certain their patient could get oxygen to his lungs, into his bloodstream, heart and brain. They would have to reroute the blood away from the heart to deal with the heart issues, but one thing at a time.
Once we stabilize Milo, we’ll do the same for Leon and then you’ll have to operate on one while I take the other.
Jonquille’s head snapped up. She shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. This is complete reconstructive surgery of the entire inside of his body, Rubin. I’m not capable of that. In an operating room I wouldn’t be capable. No.” She started to back away, complete panic on her face. “I would kill him.”
“Jonquille. I don’t believe you noticed, but our patients are dying. They don’t have anyone else. If Zeke could operate, he would. If Wyatt could, he would have done so already. We are their only chance. We don’t have time for discussion. I know you can do it. You just follow what I’m doing.” Rubin was very calm. “Look at him. You’re all he’s got. Take a breath. We’ll do this one step at a time. Joe will be with you for anything you need. He’s experienced and fast. Wyatt’s right here as well. Look to me if you get into trouble.”
Deliberately, as if he had complete confidence she would step back to their patient’s side, he indicated Milo. He isn’t able to get the oxygen to his lungs properly because the parts aren’t fitting together. It’s like they took pieces of pipes and connected all the wrong tubing. Check Leon and see if he’s the same way. I want a good look at Milo’s lungs. You do the same with Leon.
Starting with assessing the damage would give Jonquille confidence. She could see the inside of both men’s bodies easily. She had a strong healing ability, and that transferred into a need to help, no matter how afraid she was.
Rubin didn’t take his mental image off the inside of Milo’s chest. Over time, he had learned to treat surgery exactly as if he were in an operating room. He had to deal with all the same body parts. It was a matter of moving everything with his mind, rather than his hands. The problem was, Milo’s body parts weren’t exactly all human, and they really were like a mismatched puzzle.
The inside of the body appeared as if a child had thrown pieces together, connecting the organs with too-small veins and arteries—even the chambers of the heart were mismatched, as if the creator had taken leftover parts and shoved them together. Blood leaked everywhere. It was a wonder the man had lasted this long. It was a testament to his strength of will and the care his fellow Ghost-Walkers gave him.
Leon appears to be a mirror image of Milo as far as I can see, Rubin. Jonquille filled his mind with an image of Leon’s upper chest. If they put the two bodies on top of each other, they would pretty much have the same problems, other than a few of Leon’s veins and arteries allowed for better blood flow.
Let’s get it done, Rubin said. They had to reroute the blood so they could fix the veins and arteries, give both men ones that would actually work. It was a time-consuming and dangerous surgery. Extremely meticulous. Sorting out what amounted to what carried the life’s stream of blood and oxygen supply throughout the human body and making certain it was the correct size and shape for every major organ was a nightmare.
We have to go very slow and take our time. You have to take breaks, Jonquille, when you need them. Self-care is just as important as patient care in this instance, or we won’t survive.
He remained steady and calm, moving through Milo’s body with complete care and confidence so that Jonquille could follow his every action doing the same for Leon. She had to learn control of her ability along with the actual surgical skills. He took great pride in her for following the map he laid out for her, but also for listening to Joe’s quiet instructions when it came to pulling back her heat as she sealed connections with white-hot energy. Joe was very experienced in psychic healing. He might not be a psychic surgeon, but he was extremely good at healing most wounds or illnesses. Rubin knew his experience would help to steady Jonquille.