Page 102 of Strays
Jay nods. Shane and I hold her stare.
She taps the file once. “Dismissed.”
Patterns ofMortality in Homo Gregalis: A Retrospective Analysis of Twenty Years of Hospital Records
Excerpt from Bureau, S. (2023). Journal of Comparative Physiology & Behavioral Health, 42(3), 211–235.
Analysis of 18,472 gregalis deaths recorded in the national hospital dataset (2003–2022) reveals that among aegis, violent causes such as operational fatalities, homicide, and suicide account for 71.6% of total mortality. However, of the remaining non-violent deaths, a significant majority stem from endocrine pathologies such as poorly managed diabetes, thyroid dysfunction, and adrenal failure, conditions for which standard human treatment protocols have repeatedly shown suboptimal outcomes.
Conversely, in the nyra cohort, violent causes account for less than 1% of all hospital-recorded nyra deaths. Among the leading causes are maternal deaths following unsupervised or inadequately supported home births. Despite the relatively small proportion of nyras within the gregalis population, this trend represents an unsustainable pattern of preventable loss.
It is well established that gregalis communities have benefited immeasurably from human social infrastructure and technological advancement. Yet, it is necessary to recognize that the gregalis perform an irreplaceable function as a physical and operational buffer in defense and law enforcement capacities. If we are to preserve this functional asset, it is incumbent upon the healthcare system to implement dedicated gregalis medical curricula, protocols, and funding streams to maintain population viability.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Fighting on All Fronts
We bury ourselves in arrest logs, overdose charts, and flagged intel for the rest of the afternoon. At five, we’re back in our truck, but before heading home, we stop to get supplies to start the Special Ops diet. It’s going to be a big change: protein powder, piles of fruits and vegetables, some of which I’d never even heard of.
Jo looks surprised when we get home with all the bags. When we hand her the diet pages from our T1P folder, she squints at them. “Jesus. This much food can even fit in your stomachs?”
It is a lot. But Jay looks at her like she’s being unreasonable. “Of course it can.”
She laughs. “So, what do you think, start the new diet tonight, or do we throw ourselves a proper Last Supper with grease and guilt?”
I was determined to start it tonight, and I’m sure Jay and Shane were too, but when Jo mentioned craving pizza, we change plans.
We’re eating a delicious five-cheese pizza, Jay almost reverent like he’s already mourning the loss of it, when Jo brings up the hospital again. “So… are we going to talk about it or not?” Her voice is light, but I can see the nerves on her face.
The mood shifts. Everyone goes quiet.
I chew slowly, trying to buy time. Unfortunately, my brothers have the same idea. Even Jay slows down, so I still end up finishing first.
I decide it’s better to be straight and get it over with. “You know people didn’t change in these last weeks, right? You’ll be dealing with the same shit.”
“I know they didn’t change,” she answers quickly. “But I did. A month ago, I had no idea who I was, or who I could be. But after meeting my family, seeing my grandma, my aunt, my cousin… I have a reference now. I feel different.”
Jay looks at her, his expression dead serious. “What if you can’t handle it? Are you going to talk to us and face it together, or are you going to shut us out again?”
Jo sighs and looks down at her food. “I know you don’t trust me right now,” she says softly. “And that’s okay; only time will fix that. But I won’t leave you again, Jay. Let me prove it to you.”
We all go quiet again. Then Shane finally speaks. “I’ll hold you to that.”
I’m still scared; we all are. But Jo’s right: only time can fix this. There’s nothing we can do but wait and see.
Jay must be thinking the same thing, because he changes the subject. “Babe, huh?”
Jo glances between us, her expression a little shy. “I’m experimenting. You don’t like nicknames?”
She’s even blushing a bit. It’s adorable. We all chuckle.
Shane leans toward her and kisses her temple. “I love it.”
The next morning we pull up to the garrison’s gate a few minutes before six.
From a distance, the gate looks exactly like it did yesterday, but now that we’ve read the instructions in our T1P folders, we know where to look. Just left of the steel hinge column, tucked behind a narrow panel flush with the surface, there’s a tiny access slot.
Jay rolls down the window, slides his badge into the slot, and waits. A second later, a green light flickers deep behind the panel and the gate groans open.
