by R. D. Hunter
Hunter / Nightingale / 60
enough.”
“No problem. It’s enough for me too.” We walked on in together.
The first part of the morning went pretty well. Nancy and I helped pass out morning meds. Then we helped a few residents to the bathroom. Pretty standard stuff.
And best of all, there were no agonizing waves of pain and suffering from upstairs.
By lunchtime, I was starting to think maybe the events of yesterday might have been just a freak occurrence. At meal time, everyone who was mobile filed into the cafeteria and trays were served. The second floor sent down support staff to assist those who needed help feeding themselves. Thornbirch wasn’t among them, thank goodness.
One of the newcomers, though, was a large man with a bald head and a scrunched in face. He didn’t say much, but had a permanent scowl that was inside as well as out. I kept my distance.
We were halfway through lunch when I felt a blast of anger coming from his direction, followed by, “You stupid bastard! You did that on purpose.”
I looked over and saw his white scrubs covered in chocolate pudding. The resident he was feeding, Mr. Partridge, was trying to apologize while covered with the stuff himself. The fact that he suffered from advanced Parkinson’s meant his jerky movements only succeeded in spreading the mess around.
I hurried over, intent on putting Jenny’s idea to the test. “Here, why don’t I help with that,” I said, taking the spoon and pudding cup from the man who loomed like a mountain ready to erupt.
He turned his ever-present scowl on me, but I just smiled and batted my eyes the way I’d seen people in the movie do. It didn’t do much to sway him, so I quickly
Hunter / Nightingale / 61
switched to flattery.
“Thanks so much for helping us,” I said as sweet as sugar. “These guys can be such a handful. We’re really lucky to have someone like you with us…” I glanced at his name tag,”…Randy. Why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll finish up here?” I turned my smile up to a power of ten and waited with baited breath to see if he’d go for it.
After a few seconds, he did. Throwing one more scathing glare at Mr. Partridge, who was still pitifully trying to wipe up the mess, he stalked out of the cafeteria and the whole crowd breathed a sigh of relief.
“I…I d-didn’t mean t-t-to…” Mr. Partridge began. He felt terrible about the whole thing. Not just making a scene in front of everyone and making Mt. Randy almost erupt, but for me having to rush over and pull his fat out of the fryer. It was only when I sensed the underlying fear drain out of him that I realized he was actually afraid for me.
“I know you didn’t, Sweety,” I said kindly. “Don’t you think another thing about it. Let’s get this sorted out then I’ll go steal another pudding cup for you. How about it?”
I gave him a grin and a wink to show all was well, which he returned in his jerky fashion.
Gary hurried over with extra napkins to help me clean up. “You just can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?” His emotions were closed off as usual, so I couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.
“You know me. Never a dull moment. Who was that guy?”
He made a face like he‘d tasted something bitter. “One of the C.N.A.’s from the second floor. He’s the enforcer, the one they call in when a resident is confused and combative. Helps to hold them down, restrain them or whatever. Bit of a nasty customer.
Not known for his sunny disposition.”
Hunter / Nightingale / 62
“I’d noticed.”
“You handled him like a pro though. What was that all about?”
“Just a new approach I’m trying out,” I said secretly. “What’d you think?”
“I think you need to hire a bodyguard, pronto.”
“Why do I need a bodyguard when I’ve got you?” I teased. Was I flirting? Flirting with Gary? Maybe I was. Watching the athletic young man chuckle and get down on his hands and knees to help me, made me think that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Hunter / Nightingale / 63
Chapter Eight
Randy didn’t return to the cafeteria. No one, not even the other staff from upstairs, seemed to lament the loss. After lunch was over, everyone retired to the dayroom where Nancy spent the next half hour praising my nerve and the following half hour pointing out my stupidity.
“I mean, did you see the size of him?” she said for the umpteenth time. “He could have snapped you in half if he had a mind.”
“Then I think I was safe,” I said. “I’m not sure he had much in the way of a mind.” My mentor didn’t see the humor in it.
“I’m serious. I mean, it was great what you did, stepping in for Mr. Partridge like that. And it certainly made an impression on the other residents.”
“It did?”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “Of course it did. They saw you take up for one of their own and stare down that big ape like it was nothing. You think they wouldn’t take that to heart?”
Hunter / Nightingale / 64
I made a quick check to see if she was right. It was true everyone had been paying closer attention to me. I thought it was just because they were wondering which suicidal act I’d perform next.
But when I opened myself up a bit, something I wasn’t used to doing, I realized it was more than that. They were looking at me with, dare I say it, affection? I mean, most of them had been friendly up to this point, but they were always removed. Never quite crossing that gap that separated politeness to close acquaintance.
Now it had changed. I felt accepted; like I belonged. It was nice.
Tears started to sting my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away just as a cafeteria worker rolled in a cart with frozen, sugar-free sorbet. I busied myself passing out the frozen treat and by the time everyone had a cup, I was back in control.
“Ava, we were one short,” Nancy said. “Mr. Donnoway didn’t get one. Can you run back to the freezer and get him one?”
“For my favorite soldier? Sure thing.”
The old man laughed. “I swear, Honey, if every soldier had a gal like you during the war, we’d have won it in a week just so we could get back home to you.” I patted his arm affectionately, said “You flirt,” and went to get his sorbet.
The freezer was all the way in the back. I found it unlocked, turned on the light and stepped inside. The artificially cooled air stung my bare arms and I hurried to the row of shelves to retrieve my prize and get out.
I didn’t sense anyone come up behind me. The rattling refrigeration unit drowned out any chance I had of hearing them. One sharp blast of excitement, that was all the warning I had before the thick metal door clanged shut behind me. I dropped the sorbet
Hunter / Nightingale / 65
and rushed over, but was just in time to hear the metal pin drop into the slot that would lock the door and seal me in.
“Hey! Hey, I’m in here!” I yelled, pounding on the door. The frigid metal burned my palms. “Let me out! Unlock the door!”
I stopped and listened for any response. There was none. Absolutely no sound reached my ears from the other side. But someone was there. I could feel them.
They were filled with a delicious anticipation. Their whole insides quivered at the thought of what they were doing, like the time I egged my math teacher’s house when I was ten. This was a game to them, and they were enjoying it immensely.
“Please, let me out,” I whispered. Pure ecstasy. Whoever was there had heard me, and my plea had filled them with the kind of rapture a heroin junkie might feel while getting a long overdue fix.
They turned off the light, plunging me into absolute darkness, and walked away.
Whatever hope I’d held out that this was all just a big joke to haze the new girl faded as I felt their presence recede into the distance. Trapped in the cold and the dark, panic gripped me in its icy clutches. And, like most people in the grip of panic, I got stupid.
“Hey! Hey, come ba
ck. Let me out. Please. Let me OUT!” I pounded on the door.
My throat already ached from the intense cold and my hands quickly joined in as the frost covered metal stripped away layer after layer of skin.
Soon, even that pain began to fade into the background as a delicious and dangerous warmth started creeping through my extremities. No, this wasn’t happening. I was not going to die in here.
I started running in place. I pumped my arms and legs furiously, trying to keep the
Hunter / Nightingale / 66
blood circulating to stave off frostbite. After a few minutes, I switched to jumping jacks.
Someone would notice I was gone. They’d come looking for me. I played that mantra through my head to keep me going.
Normally, I could keep up this pace for quite some time. After all, I exercised regularly and Jenny had recently gotten me hooked on Zumba. But the extreme cold served to sap my strength. My lungs felt like they were turning into blocks of ice and no matter how much I strained them, the muscles in my arms and legs began to freeze up.
So, I went back to the old stand by and started beating on the door again.
“Please! Somebody!” my voice sounded strange and hoarse. My vocal cords were seizing up. I don’t remember sliding to the floor, but the next thing I knew I was there.
Sleep stole like a heavy blanket over my eyes. I tried to fight it. With physical activity now out of the question, I tried using my mind to keep awake and alert.
I started naming all fifty states. I got to thirty six before giving up.
Fine, then. No one was coming. It wasn’t my fault. I’d held out for as long as anyone could expect me to. No shame.
Just as I was surrendering, the door cracked open and beautiful golden light spilled into the room. I closed my eyes to shield them from the sudden glare and they stuck that way.
“Jesus, Ava,” I heard a male voice say. It was Gary. Something warm and soft, a blanket of some sort, was draped over my shoulders and I was barely aware he had picked me up and was carrying me outside.
The 70 degree air hit me like a sauna and I gasped and tried to squirm away. He gingerly sat me down on the tile and told someone to call an ambulance.
Hunter / Nightingale / 67
“Ava, stay with me,” he said. “Open your eyes and stay with me.” Such urgency in his voice. Such concern. It was funny. I actually wanted to laugh, but sleep pounced on me like an animal and drug me back to its den before I could do anything more.
Hunter / Nightingale / 68
Chapter Nine
Warm. I was warm. The feeling was so delicious that, for a moment, I forgot what had happened and simply reveled in the sensation. The only thing that could’ve made this moment more tantalizing was if the buzzing in my ears would go away.
“I think she’s coming around,” a familiar voice said. Not if I could help it. My head was on something soft and I snuggled down into it before someone rudely decided to pinch my arm.
“Ow! Hey, what the hell,” I said. My eyes snapped open to see Jenny’s smirking face looming over me.
“Told you she was waking up,” she said smugly.
I glared at her before a second voice to my right drew my attention. “Glad to have you back with us, Miss Foster. How are you feeling?” I turned my head with some effort and there stood Sebastian King. It was then I realized that the buzzing in my ears wasn’t from the deep sleep I’d so recently enjoyed. It was his emotions, making their presence known to me.
Hunter / Nightingale / 69
“Uh…I feel…” Hmm. How did I feel? My head hurt. But whether that was from my ordeal or his vibe, I wasn’t sure. My body ached, but it was more like the ache one feels after a hard workout. Then I remembered the insane calisthenics I’d done to try and repel the cold and it all made sense.
All in all, I felt pretty good. I was obviously in a hospital, and so had some pain medicine in my system to water down the worst of it. Then I made the mistake of trying to scratch my nose. To my surprise, my hands were heavily bandaged. Once my thumb made contact with my nostril, it became readily apparent as to why.
Pain lanced up and down my palm, like white hot streaks of fire before gradually tapering out in my wrists. I think I cried out because Jenny was suddenly by my side, concern radiating off her. Even King must have been surprised because the hum around him increased in pitch before finally settling back down.
“I’m okay,” I gasped after a few seconds. “What happened?”
“We were hoping you could tell us,” King said. “ A Mr. Gary Richards found you locked and nearly unconscious in the freezer and called for help. You were brought here via EMS, treated for minor frostbite and hypothermia and have been asleep for the past several hours. Your hands took the worst of the damage. The frozen metal door stripped away several layers of your epidermis. How did this happen?”
I told him. Maybe it was the drugs, but I recounted the whole story as best I could, only leaving out the part where I sensed the person on the other side of the door when they locked me in.
When I was done, my boss stood there, deep in thought. His face was impassive, but from the pitch of his emotions I could tell he was troubled. Hey, I was getting better
Hunter / Nightingale / 70
at this.
“Are you certain the door couldn’t have closed by itself?” he asked after a minute.
I tried to snort to show my disdain, but it just hurt too damn much. “Not unless it could lock by itself and turn the light off too.”
His perfectly square jaw clenched a couple times. When he spoke, his voice was strained as I’d never heard it. “This is very serious, Miss Foster. I’ll be in conference with members of my board as well as the director of Sunny Pines in regards to this incident.”
“I’d like to be involved in that conference,” a voice said from the doorway.
King nodded politely, but I felt the thrum of his emotions take growl, as if challenged by a rival. “Officer Parker, I’ll be glad to cooperate with your department in regards to this investigation. But I’m afraid my communications with my staff must remain private in the interests of my company.”
Michael came into the room and I had the sudden urge to hide my head under the covers. I’d never felt him like this. His anger was almost palatable. It wasn’t bitter or unclean, like it had been with Lawson. This was a righteous anger. If Sebastian King could have felt it, he might not have been so inclined to refuse him.
“What about Ava’s interests?” he asked coldly. “She almost died at your facility and someone on your staff’ is responsible.”
“Is that the summation of your professional investigation or a personal opinion?”
“It’s the result of me not having my head buried in the sand to ignore what happened out there.”
“I assure you my head has a firm grasp of the situation,” King replied in a voice as hard as ice chips. “Can you say the same?”
Hunter / Nightingale / 71
Michael clenched and unclenched his fists. The very notion of it made my own hands throb.
Things were about to get really ugly between these two. The atmosphere in the room was becoming thick with tension and the struggle to breathe combined with the drugs in my system made me feel sick.
Jenny must have seen me turning green around the gills because she stepped between the two feuding Neanderthals with her hands on her hips. “All right, that’s it.
Both of you. Put your meat sticks away. No sword fighting in here.”
I grimaced. Jenny could turn a phrase like no other, but in mixed company, delicacy was a foreign term for her.
King gave a slight bow and I thought I saw the corners of his mouth turn up. “My apologies, Miss Powell. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get started with those meetings. Officer Parker, any and all information will be shared with your department. I’ll hold nothing back and I promise, I am just as committed as you to finding out who is responsible for this act.”
Slightly mollified, Michael nodded and we all watched as one of the richest men in the world left the room. Once he was gone, my ex’s mood softened considerably.
“What happened, Ava?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
I recounted the story a second time, being sure to stick to the details I had relayed to King. It wasn’t hard. For once, this story was mostly the truth with only a little omission thrown in. When I was done, my old boyfriend looked as troubled as had King.
He had to breathe a couple of times before speaking. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
Hunter / Nightingale / 72
I nodded. “I think so.” I held up my hands. “These babies will take some time to heal. But it’s not like I was going to go around giving out hand jobs anyway.” Eyebrows were raised all around and I grimaced. Had I just said that? Where the hell did that come from?
The answer revealed itself in the form of another knock on the door. “Yoo-hoo,”
Ruby called. “Anyone awake in here?” That explained it. Apparently all the drugs in my system had lowered my defenses against empathic influences and Rubies constant state of arousal was high enough to slip between the ever-widening cracks.
I felt her eyes travel up and down Michael’s tightly uniformed body. She didn’t bother to be discreet.
“Well, well. Who is this?” the elderly woman said, sauntering over and offering him her hand. He took it, more than a little embarrassed and she pressed it to his lips, forcing him to plant a light kiss on her withered skin like he was a gentleman caller.
“Ruby, this is my friend Michael…err, Officer Parker,” I said, doing my best to hide the smile that threatened to form.
“Friend or boyfriend?” she asked, still holding on to his hand while he looked more uncomfortable by the second.