Cory's Shift

by Dan Petrosini

  The man nodded. “Go see the physician assistant.” He motioned to a room whose door was open. A woman was sitting at a table.

  “Hello.”

  “Mr. Musa?”

  “Yes.”

  She marked a sheet on a clipboard. “I’m going to check your eyes and ears.” Picking up an ophthalmoscope, she peered into his eyes. Then she switched to a similar device and looked in his ears.

  “Good. Everything is clear. Let’s check your blood pressure, pulse, and oxygen levels.”

  The PA put a clip on his forefinger and wrapped a cuff around his bicep. She noted the reading and said, “Follow me. You need to get an MRI.”

  Cory followed the woman into a room with a white machine. He lay down on a bed that was attached to something that looked like a large donut. They gave him headphones to wear. Cory identified the classical music, composed by Wen-chung, as “Landscapes.”

  A technician made adjustments, and the bed moved toward the center of the donut. Cory was enjoying the layered sound of French horns when a loud banging began.

  He concentrated on the music, shutting out the knocking sound as the images were taken.

  At the end of the test, the nurse handed Cory a plastic bag with a fresh scrub suit and slippers.

  “You’ll need to change into these before boarding. Go behind the screen. Leave your old ones in the garbage can.”

  After Cory changed into the new scrubs, the nurse checked the sheet of paper. “You’re on the black unit. It’s the brand new one, on the left. The smaller vehicle.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You can’t take that Bible with you. You want to leave it here?”

  “No. I want to keep God with me as long as I can.”

  Cory headed for the RV. The vehicle was so clean, Cory saw his reflection on it. His heart dropped when he saw Chen step off, but realized, with Chen, he might be able to keep his Bible.

  Cory nodded at Chen. “We’re both on this one?”

  “Yeah. Get on and don’t give me any trouble.”

  “I didn’t do anything. Tavio is a troublemaker.”

  The garage door to the ramp began opening. Chen said, “Hurry up. The boss is coming.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Shut up and get on. And don’t touch anything!”

  Plastic sheeting protected the doorway from a galley that was split into three sections. The main living area had a small kitchen and just two recliners.

  Clear plastic curtains separated rooms in the rear and front. Cory pressed his nose against the sheeting and did a double take; it was crammed with medical equipment.

  Everything looked hi-tech and new. Cory had never seen an operating room, but it reminded him of an ICU unit. He took a step toward an entranceway.

  “Don’t go inside.”

  Cory froze. “Uh, I wasn’t.” He turned around. An Asian man in his forties with a buzz cut was dressed in green scrubs. “You a doctor?”

  “Yes. Dr. Ho. You’re Mr. Musa, donating a liver section?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t be worried. You’re in good hands.”

  Cory smiled, holding up the Bible. “I’m not. Between God and you, I know I’ll be all right. Plus, you got all this hi-tech stuff here.”

  “Yes. This just came in hours ago. In fact, Mr. Shu is on his way to look it over. They shouldn’t have allowed you on yet.”

  “I have to get off?”

  “Yes. It should only be a few minutes.”

  Cory lifted the Bible. “Can I leave this here?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Thanks.” Cory opened a kitchen drawer and set it down. He felt naked without it.

  Cory stepped off, and Chen said, “Wait over there.” He pointed to the front of the RV. Jesus was there, standing next to a woman in scrubs. Jesus introduced her as Nurse Jun.

  Chen walked over to a black SUV. A man stepped out, and Chen approached, greeting him deferentially.

  Cory said, “The boss is coming to inspect this place.” He looked at Nurse Jun. “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You work for him and don’t know his name?”

  “Li hired me. I never met the boss.”

  Cory watched the boss put a stick of chewing gum in his mouth as he approached the RV. His purposeful stride contrasted with his thin hair and droopy eyes. Cory wondered if this thin man could really be the brains behind the gang.

  Dr. Ho came out and met him. Cory heard him address the man as Dr. Shu. Cory turned to the nurse. “I’m pretty sure his name is Dr. Shu.”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard that name before.”

  Ten minutes later, Shu stepped off the RV. He went straight to the room where Cory had been examined. Chen stuck his head out the RV’s window. “Hurry up! Let’s get going.”

  Cory embraced Jesus, wishing him luck, and followed the nurse onto the vehicle. As the nurse stowed her bag, Cory cracked open the drawer. The Bible was there. And that meant the gun as well.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  As the RV pulled out of the warehouse, Cory sat next to Nurse Jun. “You’re knitting a blanket?”

  “Yes, but I’m crocheting it.”

  “I always get that mixed up. How long is it going to take you?”

  “Usually a couple of days.”

  “That’s it? You’re like a machine.”

  “I’ve been making things since I was a little girl. It’s a good way to pass the time when I’m keeping an eye on patients.”

  The RV kicked into high gear. They were on a main road. “You have a tough job.”

  “It’s not tough. I enjoy helping people.”

  “That’s good. You know, I always thought nurses did more than doctors do.”

  “We get it done together.”

  “How many of these transplants have you done?”

  “A lot.”

  “What kind of drugs you use to put us to sleep? I don’t want to be waking up or feeling any pain.”

  “Don’t worry. We use the same anesthetics they use in major hospitals, like propofol, morphine, and ketamine.”

  “Don’t we need an anesthesiologist?”

  “Not really. It’s mostly a safeguard. Our supplies are finely calibrated.”

  “How much do you need to get put out?”

  “Fifty milligrams of propofol will induce unconsciousness in someone your size.”

  “Isn’t that the stuff Michael Jackson died from?”

  “Yes. He took too much and overdosed.”

  “What’s the quickest drug to put you out?”

  “Ketamine.”

  “How much is in a needle?”

  “There are different sizes, but the syringes we generally use hold sixty milligrams, more than enough to sedate someone.”

  “So, all you need is one to get zonked out?”

  “Initially, but you’ll have an IV line, and we’ll administer bolus shots to keep you under.”

  “I’m not going to end up like Jackson, am I?”

  “You have nothing to worry about. We monitor your respiratory system. We’ve never had a problem in a donor or recipient.”

  “That’s good to hear. You sure we have the drugs on board?”

  “They’re in the cabinet with the red drawers. I checked as soon as I boarded.”

  “That makes me feel better. I don’t like pain.”

  She smiled.

  “Say, am I going to get to meet whoever is getting some of my liver?”

  “Probably. But it would be after the transplant.”

  “Okay. I hope he or she is a good person.”

  “You’re helping someone in need.”

  “Is that why you’re doing this,” Cory lowered his voice, “even though it’s illegal?”

  “Saving and extending lives is all I care about. Back in China, transplants are common.”

  “I guess they pay you pretty good.”

  Dr. Ho came out of the front section. �
��Nurse, we have to prepare. The rendezvous with the recipients and the other team is expected in forty-five minutes. Give Mr. Musa a Valium and prep him for surgery.”

  Cory’s stomach hit the floor as Jun got up. “Yes, Doctor Ho.”

  Cory whispered, “How soon is the surgery going to be? I need to say my prayers.”

  “We’ll begin removal as soon as the recipient is on board. I’ll be right back.”

  Cory stood as Jun went into the operating room. He opened the drawer and took the Bible out. She came out holding a small paper cup. Handing it to Cory, she said, “Take this.”

  Cory stared at the orange pill. “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “How fast does it work?”

  She handed him a glass. “It’ll help you relax. We’re going to start prepping you in thirty minutes.”

  Cory’s hand shook as he raised the glass of water.

  “Don’t be nervous. You’re going to be fine. Sit down and relax until we’re ready.” Jun went into the sterile area.

  Mind spinning, Cory pulled open the red drawer. He grabbed a needle filled with ketamine. Clutching his Bible, Cory headed to the bathroom.

  He closed the door and leaned his back against it. He set the needle and Bible on the counter.

  There was no margin for error. He had to take every precaution. He put the Bible down and dropped his drawers. Cory squatted, forcing the container out.

  He spilled the pills into his palm and swallowed them. He had to be as alert as possible. Cory looked at the needle sitting alongside the Bible as he pulled his scrubs up.

  Envisioning plunging it into Chen, he realized he’d have to get close enough to do it. But Chen was armed.

  It was too risky. Using the gun, he could keep his distance. That was safer.

  Cory opened the vanity door, grabbing a six-pack of toilet paper. He made a hole in the plastic and slipped the needle into one of the tubes.

  Cory grabbed the Bible. He opened it, peeling open the page that covered the gun. He took the pistol out. Finger on the trigger, he stared at the gun. His mind flooded with thoughts of his family and the fear he’d never see them again.

  He shook them out of his head. As Mr. Black said, it was no time for emotion.

  Cory chambered a bullet. He opened the Bible, placing the gun in its hiding place. Cory took a series of slow, deep breaths before stepping out of the bathroom.

  He’d wait until the last moment before springing into action.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chen was standing guard in the galley. He was in scrubs. “You’re prepping in five. Come here.”

  “Are you assisting the surgeon?”

  Chen grabbed his arm. “I keep an eye on things.” He stuck an EpiPen into Cory’s arm.

  “Hey! What’s that?”

  Chen smiled. “A little something to make sure you don’t give us any trouble. Sit down.”

  He considered pulling the gun on Chen and running for his life right then and there. But though he’d be safe, Ava would be living in fear, and his efforts would’ve been for nothing.

  Cory thought about commandeering the RV. What would the police do seeing the unit and medical staff? Could they crack a staff member into exposing the gang? He wondered how they’d explain it away. Maybe they’d portray it as a mobile clinic offering free care.

  It bothered Cory he didn’t have enough proof to get the authorities to act. But what gnawed at him was the lack of revenge. He might be able to put this unit out of commission, but Dr. Shu would get off.

  If he could wait until the recipient boarded, he’d have irrefutable proof of what the operation was. Cory tried to envision the sequences before surgery.

  He’d be on a gurney and they’d hook him up to an IV. Then, they’d clean the area. He stiffened. What if the antiseptic they used cleaned away the bronzer he had on? He’d be exposed.

  The nurse stuck her head out. “We’re ready for you, Mr. Musa.”

  Cory had to use his arms to get up. The drugs had hit him. The antidote hadn’t kicked in yet. Chen held the plastic to the side, and rubber-legged, Cory entered the operating area.

  “Lay down here.” Chen tapped a gurney that was surrounded by equipment.

  Chen helped Cory up. “Give me the book.”

  “I need it.”

  “You’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Just a little longer.”

  Jun said, “Hold still. You’re going to feel a little pinch.” She inserted an IV and hooked up a line.

  He slurred his words, “That the drugs?”

  “Not yet, just hydration.” She cut the front of his shirt open and lowered his pants.

  “Don’t take advantage of me. I’m married.”

  Jun smiled and grabbed a bottle. She poured a brown liquid onto a swab and rubbed it on Cory’s abdomen. The color was darker than his bronzed skin.

  “How soon till the donor gets here?”

  “Any minute now. I’m going to give you some medicine, so let me take this.” She grabbed the Bible.

  Cory pulled it back. “No!”

  Chen stepped closer. “Take it easy.”

  “Back off.” Cory was surprised at the strength he felt. The antidote must be working.

  The RV slowed, distracting Chen. He said, “We’re here. Get going.” Cory gave a thought to pulling the gun but needed everyone on the vehicle.

  Jun twisted the valve on the IV line as the RV came to a stop. He heard a vehicle door slam shut. His eyelids were heavy. Jun took the Bible out of his hands.

  Cory tried to speak but nothing came out. Jun turned the overhead light on, but to Cory, everything went dark.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Cory heard sounds. He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t speak. He realized something was in his mouth and fell back asleep.

  “Mr. Musa. Wake up. Can you hear me?”

  Cory tried to place the voice. He opened his eyes. The bright light stung. He shut them, wondering where he was.

  “Mr. Musa.”

  It was nurse Jun. Cory squinted. Jun’s mask-covered face was blurry. Cory swallowed. His throat hurt. He was thirsty.

  “You did wonderfully.” Jun swabbed his lips with a long Q-Tip. “How do you feel?”

  Cory’s voice creaked. “Where am I?”

  “You donated a part of your liver.”

  Cory moved his hand toward the heaviness in his abdomen.

  “Easy. It’s going to be sore for a couple of days.”

  There was a wad of padding covering his stomach. “Am I going to be okay?”

  “Yes. You donated to a child, so they only took your left lobe, the smallest one.”

  “A child? Are they okay?”

  “Yes. Everyone is doing fine, and in a day or two you’ll feel like yourself again. All you must do right now is rest. Okay?”

  Cory squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Do you need something for the pain?”

  His incision wasn’t bothering him, but he nodded. He needed relief, not from pain but from his failure to assure Ava she had nothing to fear. It went even deeper; he’d reinforced the danger the gang posed.

  All Cory could think of was Ava. He’d come here to put an end to the torment his daughter was under but was lying as helpless as she had been.

  * * *

  Cory stirred. He woke up. It was the sound of an engine climbing uphill. He remembered being on an RV. He looked around, seeing Nurse Jun get out of her chair. “You’re up. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay. I guess.”

  “If you’re able to drink a little water, I can remove the IV. That sounds good, doesn’t it?”

  Cory lifted his arm, looking at the tube. “Okay.”

  Jun brought a plastic cup to Cory’s lips. He sipped and swallowed. “My throat hurts.”

  “It’s from the breathing tube. It’ll feel better soon.”

  Cory nodded. Reality crashed into him; they’d stuck a tube down his throat. “You said they took
—the left part of my liver.”

  “Yes. It’s only about twenty percent of your liver. You’ll be fine.”

  “How big is the cut?”

  “It’s long. We need access to the bile ducts, but don’t worry, Dr. Ho is a good surgeon. You take care of it, and you’ll hardly notice it in a year or two.”

  Cory’s stomach growled. “I need to eat. I feel weak.”

  “That’s a good sign. How about some applesauce? If you can handle it, we can move to solids from there.”

  “Anything at this point.”

  “Let me take out the IV, then you can eat.”

  Cory closed his eyes, preparing for pain. But none came. Jun was gentle. “Okay. It’s all out.”

  He bent his arm. As the nurse discarded the tubing, he said, “Feels good it’s gone.”

  Jun peeled back the top of a small container and spoon-fed the applesauce to Cory. “Good. You feel okay?”

  “Yeah. I think I can handle something else.”

  “Let’s get you out of bed first. You need to get moving. It helps with healing.”

  Jun took the covers off. Cory said, “It’s freezing in here.”

  “You’ll warm up once you move around. Swing your legs around.”

  “Ow.” Cory reached for his stomach. “It hurts.”

  “The first time you get up it’ll hurt, but it gets better each time. Come on.”

  Jun lifted his legs and helped him sit up. “Ready?”

  As Cory said, “Give me a second,” Chen slipped in. In scrubs, he pulled his mask down. “Ah, the holy man is up.”

  Cory wanted to spit at him. “Where’s my Bible?”

  Jun said, “I’ll get it once we do our little walk.”

  “All right.” Cory grunted as he lowered his feet to the ground. He put a hand on the bed and nodded. “Okay.”

  Jun put a hand under his armpit, and Cory shuffled forward. Surprised by the effort it required, he said, “Hold on. I need a break.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “How can I be so tired?”

  “We had to administer a bit more anesthesia than usual, so you still have some in your system. Plus, your body is putting its resources into healing itself.”

  Cory cursed the antidote. It hadn’t worked. “How long until I’m better?”

  “Every day you’ll feel better. After four days, you’ll feel like yourself.”