On a Dark Wing

by Jordan Dane

  “Check it.” He nudged his head toward the parking lot. “The buzzards are circling.”

  Near the E.R. entrance, a news van had parked and a reporter and camera guy were getting ready for a broadcast. Before long, others would show up and complicate things for the families of Nate and Josh. Getting a glimpse of this side of the story made me realize that Dad had probably gone through something very similar.

  “Bad news is good news,” I muttered.

  “Yeah, for some.”

  Once we got inside, Dad took over. He talked to a nurse at the admittance desk and got the 411. After I heard the nurse mention “surgery” and “ICU,” I knew to brace for bad news. When Dad got the lowdown, he came to tell us what he found out.

  “She didn’t tell me much.” My father shrugged. “One of the boys is being prepped for surgery, the other is in ICU. She wouldn’t confirm names or give me their conditions. The parents are on their way from Palmer. They should be here soon.”

  A strong twist in my gut told me who would be in ICU and it was more than a good hunch.

  “Is there a place for us to wait near ICU?” I asked him.

  “We’d have a better shot at getting information on the boy waiting for surgery,” Dad said. What he said made sense, but sense had nothing to do with this.

  “I know, but…” I sighed. “I’d like to try ICU first.”

  I didn’t bother to explain why I’d insisted on dogging the Intensive Care Unit, but Dad didn’t argue.

  “Yeah, okay, but they have rules in ICU.”

  As my father rattled off what the nurse had told him, I only half listened. I knew only family would be allowed behind the secured doors of the ICU on a limited basis. That drill I knew firsthand. The best we could hope for would be a butt-numbing seat outside the Intensive Care Unit in a waiting area.

  “Bottom line is…” Dad said. “Only family will be allowed in.”

  My father looked as if he wanted to know how far I would push this. At some point, I knew he’d eventually press me for that answer, especially with both boys being off-limits. But for now, he looked willing to help.

  “I know, Dad, but I have to be here. It’s important…to me.”

  If Nate was the one in ICU, that meant he’d be in bad shape. It would be life…or Death. Because of me, Death had crossed his path. He’d be a boy without a soul. How could I fix that? How could anyone? I’d have to fight for his soul, but I couldn’t think of a single reason his parents or the hospital staff would even let me near him. If I told anyone the real reason I was there, I’d be fitted for a straitjacket and sent to the psych ward for evaluation.

  My odds of seeing Nate were less than zero and from the look on my father’s face, he knew it, too.

  “I know this sucks for you, Dad.”

  My father shrugged and pretended that being here didn’t bother him, but I knew better. If I had terrible flashbacks about being in a hospital again, I couldn’t imagine what Dad felt. He stared at me before he shifted his gaze to Tanner, trying hard not to show that he’d rather be anywhere else, but I saw the conflict in his eyes.

  “Okay, if we’re gonna do this thing, let’s go.” My father headed for the elevators following the instructions he’d gotten from the admittance nurse.

  Without Dad noticing, Tanner grabbed my hand again, at least until we got to the elevator. Once we were on board, I let go, but I kept my fingers on his neck, not letting Dad see. Even though my hand was ice-cold and shaking, Tanner let me touch him without flinching. Having a connection with him calmed me.

  All hospitals were the same to me. They stank of medicines, cleaning stuff, stale coffee and cafeteria food that got mixed up with other smells I didn’t want identified. When I remembered being at the lowest point of my life, completely miserable, any hospital staffers who smiled or had fun at their job made me angry.

  Every laugh got on my nerves. Every cheery face made me want to hurl. I wanted everything to be as black as I felt, but when that didn’t happen, I hated it. I didn’t want to know that life went on…for some.

  When we got to the Intensive Care Unit, I had to take deep breaths. ICU was never a good place to be. I shut my eyes to block out the memories that threatened to come back, but the clank of metal bed rails, the beep of the heart monitors, and the low moans of someone in pain took hold of me and brought everything back in a rush. After being in the critical care unit for so long, I suffered from ICU psychosis, my dad said. The activity at all hours, the noise, the painful cries of other patients, and a complete loss of time brought on hallucinations that made everything worse. To this day, the sights and sounds of any hospital triggered those nightmares and I had no idea what had been real or not.

  Even if I filled my ears with Lady Gaga, seeing my father brought those awful memories back, too. I felt like such a slug for putting him through this. Like looking in a mirror, he was a reflection of what I felt. I watched him and when he thought I wasn’t looking, my father watched me back. He looked antsy. (That gene I’d inherited.) Even though there were chairs for him to sit, he stood off to the side and fidgeted until the waiting got too much and he had to pace.

  I knew it wouldn’t be long before he found another excuse to stretch his legs.

  “I’m gonna hit the head, maybe go looking for the cafeteria. You guys want anything?”

  “No, thanks,” I said.

  Surprisingly Tanner turned Dad down, too. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  Tanner was always hungry and for the past hour, I’d been listening to his stomach growl, but he stayed with me, waiting for my father to leave us alone. After Dad left, he leaned closer.

  “So what’s the plan?” He glanced at me, showing a flash of his dimples. “You have one, right?”

  “I’m working on it. I can’t just sit here, not knowing what’s goin’ on in there.”

  Being a member of the walking wounded like me, Tanner knew about hospitals, too. We both knew that ICU staff watched the door that gave access to the patients and that there were rules about visiting hours. Some hospitals even assigned code words to family members to let nurses know they were authorized to see the patient, but from the conspiratorial look on Tanner’s face, none of that intimidated him. My “gangsta on wheels”—my friend who was never boring—had outlaw blood flowing through his veins. I knew that Tanner would back my play no matter what I decided to do.

  “We’ll probably only get one shot,” I whispered.

  None of this was a game. Not any part of it. With precious time counting down, I felt the mounting urgency of Nate’s situation. Behind secured ICU doors, I had no idea what was going on. Doctors could pronounce Nate dead and I’d never get a chance to help him, but I wasn’t there to sit and wait for whatever Death had decided.

  My instincts were telling me that I had to do something. Now.

  But before I hatched a plan, the elevator doors opened down the hall and a frantic woman and a little girl rushed into the waiting area. If I had any doubts about which boy had gone to ICU, they vanished the second I recognized Nate’s mother. She had the raw glassy-eyed look of a woman pushed over the brink, and beside her stood Nate’s little sister, Zoey.

  I’d overheard Nate talk about Zoey with Josh and I’d seen her a few times around Palmer, but when I looked into the eyes of that confused and scared little girl, she tore my heart to shreds. On the outside, she may have been a kid, but behind those eyes I saw something no child should have to know. I knew what that felt like—because I’d been there, too.

  This was far from a game and I had a bad feeling that every second would count.

  Chapter 15

  Fairbanks Memorial Hospital Fairbanks, Alaska

  “My name is Jackie Holden. I’m here to see my son, Nathan. A rescue helicopter brought him in, off Den
ali.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Your husband is with him, but—” The nurse looked down at Zoey.

  Not waiting for the woman to finish, I heard Mrs. Holden interrupt her in a shaky voice.

  “I know there must be rules about children, but I had to bring his sister. I couldn’t leave her. They’re so close. Nate would want to see her.”

  “I’m sorry. We have a strict policy. No children under the age of twelve,” the nurse said. “With their level of immunity, children have a risk for infection. An ICU visit can be traumatic for a child, too. I hope you understand.”

  Mrs. Holden nodded and took a ragged breath. She looked as if she had frayed on the edges and didn’t want to break down in front of her little girl. I knew she wanted to find Nate and be with him, something we had in common.

  The last thing she’d want to deal with—would be someone like me.

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I got out of my seat and walked toward her anyway. I never even looked at Tanner. I approached Nate’s mom after I’d seen Zoey looking lost and scared and her mother unraveling in front of my eyes. I wanted to puke and my knees felt shaky. The reason Nate got targeted by Death was because of me. Now his family would be touched by my connection to the dark angel.

  I hated intruding on his mother’s pain, but I knew that if she disappeared behind the double doors into ICU, I’d be shut out from any news on Nate. I didn’t know if my belief that I could do something came from wishful thinking or a real conviction that it would be true, but for Nate’s sake, I had to try. Although Death had made me a believer in an existence beyond my understanding, Nate didn’t belong there. At least, not yet—and not on my account.

  While Mrs. Holden stood at the ICU desk, talking to the nurse about Nate and figuring out what to do with Zoey, I stepped closer. Feeling the pressure of knowing that my dad would be back any minute, I ran on instinct now. I had no idea what I needed to do, but I had to make a connection with Nate’s family. As I neared the ICU desk, I overheard Mrs. Holden.

  “Where’s his doctor? Can I speak to him?” Nate’s mother grabbed a tissue from the box and dabbed her eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am. We were expecting you. I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.” The nurse turned her back and picked up the phone.

  I waited until Nate’s mom finished with the nurse before I spoke up.

  “Mrs. Holden?” I didn’t recognize my own voice. I sounded older, like someone else talked for me.

  When she turned, Nate’s mom looked as if she hadn’t heard me, like I’d been a disturbing noise that got on her nerves. Zoey clung to her mother’s hand as if it were her only lifeline.

  “Sorry to bother you, but my name is Abbey Chandler. I go to Nate’s school. When I heard the news, I had to come.”

  She stared at me with watery eyes and her mouth open like she had a question buzzing in her head that she couldn’t quite grasp. Underneath the worry, she looked really pretty and something in her eyes seemed familiar. I’d seen Nate’s father in a newspaper article once. Nate definitely took after his dad. Yet after seeing Mrs. Holden’s vulnerability up close, I thought he had inherited the soft compassion in his mother’s eyes, too. Before Mrs. Holden said anything to me, the nurse broke in.

  “Ma’am? I talked to your son’s doctor. He’s on his way. He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “Ah, thank you. And my husband? Does he know we’re here?”

  “I’ll tell him.” The nurse nodded. “Please, have a seat.”

  After the nurse headed through the double doors, Mrs. Holden turned toward me again, looking even more confused.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say again?”

  She hadn’t heard me, but looking into her eyes, I knew why. All she had on her mind was her son and that was how I would reach her.

  “I know Nate. I go to school with him. He’s so…special. If there’s anything I can do, I’ll be here.”

  “Oh…thank you. I don’t know what to say.” She sighed and clutched the hand of her daughter tighter. “I just got here.”

  “I know…and I won’t keep you. I just…if you could let me know about Nate. I’m so worried.”

  Staring into her eyes, I realized how ridiculous I sounded. I was a stranger. Why would she tell me anything? And forget about letting me see him. That wouldn’t happen. If I got in to see Nate, I’d have to come up with my own plan. It would have to be off-the-wall, out-of-the-box crazy.

  “Thank you for coming.” She squeezed my hand and forced a faint smile that came and went. “I’ve got to take Zoey to the bathroom before the doctor comes. We left the house so fast that she never got a chance to go.”

  After she let go of my hand, Mrs. Holden took Zoey down the hall and I watched them leave. I’d been an idiot. What did I expect? Nate’s doctor would be here any minute. The last thing on Mrs. Holden’s mind would be keeping me in the loop on her son’s condition, but the urgency I’d been feeling to see Nate had come to a head. Every sound, every conversation between doctors and nurses left me on edge and seeing Mrs. Holden and Zoey made things worse.

  I didn’t want them to lose Nate, but I wasn’t sure how or even if, I could help.

  When I heard the soft ding of the elevator, the doors slid open and the echo of footsteps came down the corridor. I thought it would be the doctor, but it was my dad. He had a small paper bag in his hand.

  “I know you didn’t ask for anything, but I brought snacks for later.” Dad raised the sack and asked, “What did I miss?”

  I shrugged and said, “Not much. Thanks for the munchies. Tanner will be happy.”

  Dad had prepped for a long stay, but I couldn’t afford to think like that. In my head, a clock ticked down. Steady persistent beats had become abrasive white noise to my memory of Nate’s pleas for help and the feel of his hand on my arm, back at the clearing.

  Those memories were in me, as vivid as if they had just happened, but Nate wasn’t with me now. I didn’t feel him and that made it easy to believe that fate had taken over. I might already be too late.

  Minutes later

  Down the corridor, I saw a grim-faced doctor in scrubs walking toward the ICU nurses’ station. In a low voice, he spoke to the uniformed woman who gave him a patient’s chart. I stood too far away to hear what they said, but with Mrs. Holden and Zoey still in the bathroom, I knew they were almost done. I heard their voices behind the restroom door. Zoey was washing her hands. They’d be out soon.

  “I bet that’s him, Nate’s doctor. I can’t hear what he’s saying, can you?” I asked Tanner. After he shook his head, I mumbled, “I can’t sit here like this. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Fortunately for you, that’s a short trip…and you’d get frequent-flyer miles.”

  Looking deep in thought, Tanner didn’t blink, didn’t even turn his head. He stared at the doctor and nurse as if he could read their minds. I could never be that still. My body and brain didn’t function that way, especially now. Inside I bubbled over like a kettle on high heat. Every second that went by magnified the worry I felt for Nate.

  All I needed was to see him. I knew that if I did, I’d have a better shot at figuring out what to do. My dad sat across the room, giving us space, but he would look up from his magazine every time I moved. It’d be only a matter of time before he’d push me for answers. He’d want to know how close I was to these boys and why I felt strongly about hanging out in the ICU when I’d never be allowed to see Nate.

  Now his doctor stood at the ICU desk and he’d be my best chance at finding out what was going on.

  “Wish I was a fly on the wall,” I muttered, sitting slouched in my seat next to Tanner. “I’d love to hear what’s happening.”

  “A fly on the wall, huh?” Barely looking over, Tanner reached into his pocket for his
phone. “Think I’ve got an app for that.”

  “Not funny, Lange.”

  Without saying anything else, Tanner punched his smartphone with his thumbs, completely oblivious. Normally he was a pretty funny guy to hang with, but when he got uncomfortable—like loitering in an ICU when he’d rather be anywhere else—he grew more cynical. Humor helped him deal with tough things, so I cut him slack.

  “You know, you should aspire to something a little higher on the food chain than a fly, Abbey,” Tanner said. “Besides, even if flies could talk, why trust ’em? They think a warm cow patty is a choice meal.”

  Okay, he had a point—and he almost made me laugh—but I wasn’t in the mood to hear his views on the wild kingdom or the nutritional value of cow dung. Time counted down in my head and when Tanner grabbed his cell, acting like he had better things to do, I lost it.

  “Hello. I’m freakin’ out here.” I slumped lower in my chair and crossed my arms. “I gotta find out what’s going on. What’s so important with your phone?”

  “This.” With a sly grin, he held up his phone. “Voilà! Instant fly. Wall optional.”

  “What’s that?” I sat straight up and grabbed his cell, staring at the display. I thought he’d been goofing off, but when I saw what he had, I gasped.

  “Oh. My. God. This is a…”

  “A recorder, yeah. High quality MP3…with decent range.” He smirked. “Cool, huh?”

  “But how would it work? Wouldn’t we have to…?”

  “Leave that to me.” He grinned.

  I stared at him until I figured out what he had in mind. The nurses’ station was the hub of activity for the ICU. Doctors, nurses and visitors congregated there. If some genius hid a recording device on the counter, disguised as a potted plant or behind a tissue box, I wouldn’t need to enlist the help of a fly.

  “Brilliant, Tanner. Remind me not to piss you off.”