“Even though I’m walking through the valley of the shadow, I will hold tight to the hand of him whose love will comfort me. And when all hope is gone and I am wounded in the battle He is all the strength that I will ever need. He will carry me.”

- Lyrics from “He Will Carry Me” by Mark Shultz

PROLOGUE

Mal walked the length of the ship, checking to make sure that all the light bulbs were still burning, no weird smells were emanating from the creases, and that all the snakes lying around were rubber. Their quick escape from Santo had left them short some supplies, and though the engine seemed to be running fine, Kaylee still hadn’t explained to him what sourced the fire that burned her up so.

The tension between Kaylee and Simon was high as a kite, but their conversations had finally reduced from belligerent shouting matches to long fuming silences. Not being a marriage counselor, Mal resolved to stay out of the way so long as both were doing there jobs. Problem was, Kaylee wasn’t. Her initially fast recover had plateaued, and while Mal didn’t blame her, he worried about his mechanic being holed up in the Infirmary too much longer.

Mal cut his round of the lower deck short, detouring past the Infirmary to look in on Kaylee. Through the medbay windows, he could see her resting on the bed in the center of the Infirmary, staring vaguely at the empty air in front of her, as though she were drugged. Mal tried to catch her eye, illicit a smile, but she wasn’t seeing for now. Simon worked patiently, grafting skin onto the burnt part of Kaylee’s left leg. He had on his doctor’s face – serious, calm, and detached. As Simon finished his final stitches and sealed the wound from infection, Mal entered.

His heart wrenched as Kaylee continued to gaze defeatedly at nothing, not even looking up to see him enter. He missed her cheerful smile.

“How’s she doin’?” Mal asked.

Simon shrugged, moving from Kaylee’s injured leg to her paralyzed arm. He started folding and unfolding her wrist, massaging it to coa