“Here!” He slapped the needle into her hand. She played dirty, but with that threat he had to let her win.
Even now she was blinking and re-orienting herself. Just like that, she had actually fallen asleep. And he couldn’t let her. Not until they were sure.
As he watched, Jillian forced air into her lungs. She awoke by sheer willpower, and stood on less than solid legs. But then she mustered up the sweetest I win smile he’d ever seen and he bit back the word that appeared at the back of his tongue. Bitch.
He stood at the threshold of the tent, hoping to hear through the Velcro closures if anyone was coming. And grateful for the excuse not to watch her. He heard no one, and so after a few seconds he turned around expecting her to be done.
But no. She came square into his visual field, burning into his retinas an image that he would see for the rest of this life. Long after Jillian was gone, he would remember that he had watched her kill David. She injected slowly, counting to make sure she kept the pace.
Four-mississippi-five-mississippi-six-mississippi-
He thought the sound was simply in his head, but then realized he could hear her voice faintly, her lips moving across the texture of each sound while her eyes stared at the readout screen. Just as it should, David’s heart slowly picked up speed, passing normal, and plateauing at 110 before finally starting to slow.
Jordan knew what that meant, and sure enough, when he looked, Jillian had depressed the plunger all they way to the end of the syringe. But she didn’t withdraw, just stood there mesmerized by the numbers. Jordan softly crossed the room to her, but she didn’t notice until his hands closed over hers, grasping the needle and IV line tight in her fingers and separating the two.
Still she stood, just staring, until he decided to pull the needle from her hand before she dropped it. Jordan busied his hands shoving the syringe down into the sharps box, the red plastic probably having swallowed the last evidence of their crime. The drugs would break down quickly inside David, and given his condition, hopefully no one would ever suspect anything other than that his heart gave out.
But looking at Jillian, Jordan suspected a lot more.
Tears swarmed her face, marring her cheeks and dripping unceremoniously from her chin out of time with the slowing heartbeeps. She didn’t shake or sob, just swallowed her air in tiny gulps. He couldn’t place his finger on it, but he could read it, something about the way she leaned in toward the man on the gurney, something in her eyes. She didn’t feel guilty. She felt loss.
With the evidence gone, they could simply stay and watch. Jordan felt compelled to be certain it worked. He would never forgive himself if he came back and David was alive, or God forbid, awake.
He didn’t control his hands so much as he felt them settle on Jillian’s shoulders. Somehow that touch let loose what had only been the surface, and she began sobbing in earnest. Still, it took a moment before she turned and buried her face against him.
His arms went around her, a gesture of simple human kindness. He didn’t really want to comfort her for the loss of a man he was glad had somewhere else to be. But the curiosity was too much. And the need to finalize it in his head was overwhelming. So he forced himself to get it out quickly. “You fell in love with him.”
After the words came, he realized that he hadn’t asked. He hadn’t needed to. And he held her while she cried, and let himself kick his own ass for how he had fallen for her.
It was definitely time to go back to Atlanta. He realized now that he had a job waiting for him, with or without her. And that he couldn’t simply pack her up and make her come with him. She had family to attend to. He had to get up to see his Dad more often. Call his father and tell him that the girl had made it, and that it hadn’t all worked out in his favor but that he’d be okay in a while.
His skin itched in the restless way it did when he needed to act and hadn’t for whatever reason. He hadn’t itched going to Atlanta. The job offer had come through and he had simply thrown all his belongings in a few boxes and notified his student loans where he was moving and took off. There hadn’t been time to want to go, simply the going. But now he needed to leave, and he was tied here, at least for a few more days.
He had to be sure that Jillian could sleep, and only sleep. Not slide into some brain-dead state and slip away. That she would wake up if she was roused, and make all those normal movements that she did while she was asleep.
“No.”
The word startled him from his thoughts and, for a moment, from his restless urge to leave. “No, what?”
“No, I’m not in love with him.” Her voice was soft and low, but solid. He knew when she lied, and this wasn’t one of those times.
“Then why all the tears?”
At first she just sighed, and he could feel the movement against his chest. Her mahogany hair was loose and hanging heavy down her back, and teased him just under his nose. All of which reminded him that he had to pull away, that he needed to pack up and leave.
“I’ll miss him.” She jerked against him, and he thought it was a sob, but when she looked up the grin on her face was unmistakable. “I know he could be an ass, but I liked him.”
Jordan shook his own head, “Yup, that’s David. Too much money and too much charm.” But at least I still have all my hair.
“Was David.”
His body jerked as he realized the beeping had gone silent. The EEG showed no activity at all. The pulse-ox was slowly dwindling lower and lower and was already low enough that it was well below the amount of oxygen necessary for human life.
Jillian turned away and looked at the body for a moment before she began methodically removing all the electrodes and needles. She put a cottonball over the needle as she slid the IV out, but didn’t seem surprised when no more than a dot of blood welled from the site.
There wouldn’t be any CPR, no heroic measures. Not like if it had been Jillian that slipped away. For a moment the thought entered his head, wondering if he would have been able to push the medications into Jillian if she had asked him to.
Truth be told, he didn’t know. And he shoved the thought to the back parts of his brain, refusing to let it go any further.
At last her hand rested softly over David’s and she turned to look at Jordan, “It’s time to go tell everyone.” Tears still hovered at the edge of her eyes, and even though she had wiped them away, the tales of crying were all over her face.
No one will suspect her.
The thought was comforting even in its morbidity.
They left the tent side by side, and immediately ran into a tech headed their way, “How’s he doing?”
The timing fused through Jordan, they could have easily been caught. But he quelled that with the thought that they hadn’t. And that was all that was important now. It wasn’t like he was going to make this a habit and needed to be better prepared the next time.
“He didn’t make it.” Jillian’s voice hitched at the end of the sentence, giving credence to her sorrow.
The tech looked to Jordan and he offered a quick nod confirming what she’d said. “We unhooked him, he needs to be transported to the morgue. Would you set someone up to do that?”
“Of course.” The young man started to duck into the tent, but stopped himself. “Are you headed over to fill out the death certificate?”
Jordan nodded, even as he saw Jillian stiffen beside him. Neither of them had thought of that apparently. Well, it was a good thing they were desk jockeys for the most part. And luckily they’d been headed that direction anyway.
Half an hour later the certificate had been signed. Landerly had been notified, and he asked Jordan how Jillian was doing. “She’s awake sir. But I’m not sure how much longer she’ll stay that way.”
“Keep her up.” Was all he said before he disconnected the line. And Jordan didn’t even consider it rude. His mother would have killed him if he’d done anything like that. But Landerly was just that way. And Jillian could easily become that
way.
She stood and stretched, letting loose a long yawn. “Okay, bedtime for Bonzo, here.”
“No!”
She frowned against the violence of his retort. “Why not?”
“What if he isn’t finished?” Jordan couldn’t stop the words, “He isn’t us, he doesn’t know where everything is. He’ll be slower at getting it done. You haven’t felt anything-”
“Who’s to say I will?” She pushed against her back, calm despite his fluttering. “If that’s our criteria I may never sleep. And I’m already half nuts. Good night.”
“No, Landerly told me to keep you up.”
“Landerly can bite my ass. And I’ll be asleep so I won’t even feel it.” She shrugged her jacket back on, having shed it in the heat of the records tent. “Good night.”
Jumping to give chase, Jordan tugged on his own jacket and followed her out. “Just a few hours more. I’ll medicate you again.”
“No.” She stopped cold in the middle of the walkway and faced him, standing her tired ground. “That stuff felt like cocaine as best I could tell.”
“Then eat. You need food.”
Her eyes blinked, but slower than usual, causing panic to surge through him.
“I won’t eat cafeteria food anymore. Good night.”
“No. I’ll get you something good.” He waved a pointed finger in her face and watched as her eyes tracked it. “There’s a Chic-Fil-A just over that hill.” He pointed with one hand and grabbed her wrist with the other. “Let’s go.”
She resisted, but didn’t have enough body weight to slow him down. “We’re walking?”
“Yup. It’ll keep you awake.” He tugged and she stumbled along beside him, but he didn’t slow the pace. His own feet were keeping beat with the jack-hammering of his heart. He hoped David had gotten the job done. But he didn’t know. And the consequences were too severe if they were wrong. She would just have to keep up.
So she did. She didn’t utter a single word all the way up and over the hill. Only placed her order at the counter and bordered on falling asleep in the booth when he went back to get the food. The skeleton crew of the fast-food joint eyed her a bit. But her behavior wasn’t that odd considering everything else that had gone on.
Jordan made her chose a soda with caffeine and forced her to drink all of it. But he didn’t have to make her eat a single chicken nugget or waffle fry. Those went down all on their own. Her only comment the whole trip was, “I can’t believe this was right here and I didn’t know it.” But he was grateful that at least she wouldn’t be losing any more weight today.
He thought about weighing her when they returned to the tent town, but she was falling asleep on her feet, even as they paced her back to the tent. Jordan recognized that she had led him back to the tent she and David had shared. But they both stopped cold at the sight of the draped body on the gurney.
Jillian did an about face and walked off in a different direction for a few steps, before realizing that she didn’t know where she was going.
Jordan grabbed her elbow, “Come on, my tent’s over this way. I need to keep an eye on you anyway.” He pulled her through the white rows to another of the identical tents, and pushed her inside.
He saw it with new eyes as she scanned the tiny square of space. The single gurney, the orange light shed by one of the standard space heaters, his duffle bag tossed into the corner, open with scrubs and one pair of jeans flowing out of it and across the once neat line of shoes that sat beside the bag. The countertop covered with squared stacks of folders.
Jillian laughed. There wasn’t much energy behind it but it was an honest sound. “I would have known this was yours, it looks just like your desk back home.” With that final statement she shed her jacket and crawled onto the gurney he had lowered to a normal bed height. For a few minutes they were quiet while he hooked her up to every available machine and set the alarms. When they were finished she adjusted covers while he grabbed folders and lowered himself into the uncomfortable chair in the corner.
He had been awake as long as she had, longer even, and his eyelids blinked in slow rhythm. The paperwork would keep him alert. But it was Jillian that kept him up. She rolled over, adjusted the covers, curled up in a fetal position, and rolled back. His own head lolled as he started to drift off, only to be pulled back by the soft rustle of Jillian’s feet touching the ground. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched while she unsnapped electrodes and wires and slid back into her jacket and shoes before padding off into the daylight beyond the tent walls. Looking around he realized that it was very light inside the tent. But he couldn’t be upset that she had stretched her awake time by another half-hour.
He dozed while she was gone, but jerked awake at the sound of the Velcro ripping. Without a word she slipped out of shoes and jacket and into wires and tubes and slid back between the covers, and began her restless tossing again.
His breathing evened and he felt himself slipping, just as her voice cut through. “Jordan. Wake up.”
“Huh?” He used his legs to push himself upright and run his fingers through his hair. The daylight was the same shade and angle as he remembered it - only a few minutes had passed.
“Get up here. You’re falling asleep in that chair and I can’t.” She held out her hand and waved him toward her.
It wasn’t an invitation of the sort he wanted. It was Jillian, ever practical. But the thought wasn’t unwelcome. “It’s narrow, I can’t have you rolling out.”
“So put up the baby bar.” Even as she said it, she pulled the release catch, tugging at the side rail. He reached out and, snapped the smooth metal easily into place. The back rail was already up, where he had left it to prevent him from rolling against the tent wall and thinking in his sleep that it was more solid than it was. The only option left was crawling up from the foot of the bed, and he made his way while Jillian shifted and adjusted the covers.
Within moments he curled behind her and draped his arm across her waist, waiting for her to protest. She didn’t, just softly leaned back against him, probably completely unaware that he liked it. But she didn’t curl into him because she wanted to, there just weren’t other options in the tiny space.
With a few deep breaths he slipped off, consciousness growing frayed at the edges of his vision. Before he lost all contact he thought he felt Jillian’s body relax, and he prayed that it was sleep.
27
Becky stood just behind the first row of mourners, draped in her best black. Her parents and Brandon stood beside her, having shown up just to show up. They were using any excuse to see her these days - even Jillian’s funeral.
Her eyes skimmed the crowd. The Brookwood women formed a solid front on the other side of the gleaming casket, Jillian one of only two family members they had lost. All this ascension talk had been most difficult on the families that lost one or two. How could they say that their loved ones had been among the damned?
They hadn’t even been able to visit Jillian while she’d been awake. They lived on a mountain just north of the Georgia border and had been iced in the entire time. They had spoken to her on the phone once or twice but it was all that they had managed. Of course, they had gotten a warm front, just in time to throw the first dirt at their daughter’s funeral. Sometimes God seemed cruel.
Behind the Brookwoods, under the shade of a tall oak, David lingered at the edges. He had been at the edges since Jillian had died yesterday. The funeral had been put together quickly, with the mortuaries running at full speed and processing body after body. Not all of them got a full funeral. There simply wasn’t the time or resources. There were talks of mass graves for the unclaimed at the morgues. But no one would hear of it. The bodies would have to stay in the coolers until the religious right and wrong had a service for each of the damned.
Jillian was important though. And her funeral got precedence, just like Jordan’s had. Becky had attended it, too, just like she had att
ended so many others.
She hoped this would be the last, at least for a good long while.
The preacher said the final words, not even looking to his scriptures. He had the whole thing memorized by now. And he read it like he had done this twenty times already this week. He probably had.
Jillian’s family stepped back away from the hole in the ground, the light reflecting off the tears in their eyes as they turned to go. There was no reception planned - no time, no group of friends - simply this spot in the cemetery with too many shiny new stones and too many unmarked graves, waiting for the stone-cutters to catch up with demand.
As the mourners parted, David made a tiny salute to her and turned away to duck into his car. He had a flight back to Chicago. He had booked it for yesterday evening, but Becky had convinced him to stay for his lover’s service.
She wondered now if he was fleeing because Jillian wasn’t here, or if he really didn’t care. Becky wasn’t stupid; she wouldn’t put either option past him. There was also the vague possibility that he had killed her. If you could call it that. He might have set her free on the other side.
But Becky didn’t know. She couldn’t speculate. So she simply smiled and watched as the black car pulled away from the curb at a sedate pace. He was only a block away before he spun the tires and high-tailed it out to the airport; even from here she could hear the rubber squeal.
A hand touched her arm. “I’m so sorry about your friend.” Her mother’s voice came over her like old quilts.
“She’s in a better place now.” Becky said the words, the same ones everyone said, but she believed in a way she never had before. “So are Melanie and Aaron.”
Her mother offered only a tight nod, to say ‘thank-you, but no more’.
Becky wouldn’t take that though. “Mom, Aaron and Melanie are together.”
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