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Monsters Among Us (Deception Series Book 1)

Page 3

by Margaret Afseth


  Through the following days, most of her time was spent lying on the couch. Each deed she did was interspersed by a periods of rest on the sofa; then up again to complete what she started. When she managed to make and eat a meal, it came up again, until at last, the anti-nausea drugs, they had sent home with her, began to kick in.

  And added to all this, came a new problem. Gemma hardly had the energy to take her bath. Again she needed to lie down before she could even towel off. But the ultimate shock came while bathing; there was more hair than liquid in the tub. All her beautiful golden waves were coming out by the handful.

  Now, Gemma understood why the patients around her had all been bald. Chemo made the hair fall out.

  It was more a blow to her pride than anything else. A mirror, now, was her worst enemy!

  I look so ugly! Who would ever look at me now? Leave alone, want to spend their life with me.

  She hadn't really listened, and definitely didn't believe it now, when they had told her, it would grow back thicker, white, and curly.

  The prospect of dating was a thing of the past...

  Regrets were pointless; she had wasted ten years grieving, and now it was too late.

  After a week at home, Gemma began to feel much better, but not strong enough for the second round of Chemo which was coming up soon.

  Two weeks later, her entire mindset had reversed. She missed her bed companions, and the constant visitation in the common room. From wanting to be by herself, she now felt comforted by the thought, there would be nursing staff to wait on her.

  At least, when I'm there, I won't die all alone. There is always someone, to answer the press of a button, to come to my aid.

  Just when she was back on her feet...dreading the next round of poison, Gemma again reported to the oncology ward.

  That beastie in my nose has got to go! There is no avoiding this!

  Trouble was the toxin couldn't differentiate between the human, and wayward cells. It killed all, indiscriminately.

  Chapter 4

  "This one's no good for anything!" the irate supervisor declared disgustedly, pushing the worker forward ahead of him. "I've given him the moniker, 'no-name'; it certainly suits him. You can't even communicate with him; he just stands there. Dah! Stupid, or what?"

  "Here, let's try him with Flaw. If anyone can do something with a moron, he can."

  The first man grinned. "Figures...a deaf-mute and an idiot. They'll fit just right." With that, he grabbed the unfortunate youth by the ear, and dragged him, moaning and struggling, over to where Loni was weeding.

  Loni raised his eyes; sat back on his haunches. Their victim was about five years his junior; a short fellow, not much over five foot tall, with a shock of black hair, and an infantile face. He appeared not more than a child, but when Loni searched his mind, he realized his correct age.

  He also, quickly knew, the real reason the fellow couldn't communicate: the words of others were simply garbled to his ears. There was a gap between the message receptors in his brain, and he didn't get the meaning.

  The Super made sure Loni was looking at him before he spoke. They assumed, he could read lips.

  "Make this one work, Flaw!" he shouted, as if that would make the order more comprehensible. "Do you understand?"

  Loni nodded.

  The two overseers stood there for a moment to make certain the two could interact.

  Loni moved the new boy to a position across from him, showed him what were weeds, and what were not. Then by exaggerated example, pulled a weed, and tossed it in the pail. it was as simple as that.

  "Well, guess you were right," laughed the first man, as the two moved away. "I couldn't get him to do anything; never thought to show him."

  When their guardians were out of sight, Loni probed the mind of his fellow worker, so he could understand him better. The younger man had been greatly abused from the moment he could stand. When they'd realized he was incommunicative; he was called names, pushed, kicked, dunked, all to try to get him to obey.

  He had given himself the name 'Da'. He had heard it so often, regarding himself, he had taken it to mean, that was the name they called him. That made Loni sad, and he resolved to treat this new coworker with dignity.

  I will protect you, Da.

  He didn't realize he had projected the thought, until Da smiled at him.

  He can understand me!

  ****

  For the first time in his life, Loni felt he had a friend. Da was like a younger brother.

  The illusion was further enhanced by the fact they were placed together in the sleep accommodations. Between that, and working together side-by-side daily, the two men became fast friends, and inseparable, though their communication only went one way. Loni was the telepath; though he tried, he couldn't teach Da his talent.

  Everyone now called them Flaw and No-name, but Loni much preferred, they be called Da and Flaw, if there was to be any name calling. However, he couldn't correct the name aloud, and he had to leave their version stand.

  Loni's constant scourge, from childhood, soon discovered them, and could not resist temptation.

  At a very young age, Galar and Scar had been placed in a private sleep room by themselves. Perhaps, this was due to the fact, they had been born as one unit, and after the physicians separated them, the boys appeared lost without each other, and incapable of functioning alone.

  Now that Loni had someone as well, Galar appeared to take offense to the fact. It seemed, he thought, such a thing was the twins' exclusive right. From the moment Da appeared, Galar made it his life purpose, to not only make life miserable for the newcomer, but to drive Flaw and Da apart.

  Loni did not lose his temper easily; he chose not to react, having had years of previous experience with this bully. But Da was easy to pick on. Whenever these separated twins had a moment of idleness, they slipped away to Loni's work site.

  One time, it was time to harvest the apples. As did everyone else, Da carried his pouch suspended about his neck and over his chest, to keep his hands free. He had a full bag, when Galar came from behind him, and upended it, with a quick push from the bottom.

  Da usually imitated Loni; it was his habit not to react. Loni had also taught him, again through example, to express pleasure, discouragement, and even disapproval, by a series of tonal grunts. Then, he would simply go on with what he was doing.

  But, after several times of losing his load, and having to pick each individual fruit again from the ground, Da's patience was wearing thin. The last time, his grunt was definitely not one of discouragement, alone. This one was of anger!

  And Loni didn't blame him.

  Da began to holler, something no one had heard him do before. His scream of frustration carried over the work site, attracting the guards. And Galar stood nearby, beside himself with glee, at his accomplishment. He felt assured, surely now, these two would be parted.

  But the overseers were not stupid! Da seldom made trouble. And Galar was obviously away from his appointed picking area.

  For once, Galar was the one punished. He was forbidden to come anywhere near where the pair was working, and this angered Galar immensely, but...he had waited for revenge before. He could bide his time again.

  At this point in time, Da and Loni were still bunked in the communal sleep area. It was here Galar chose to enact his next retribution.

  When either of the pair slipped between the sheets, they would be short-sheeted, or sopping wet. Galar must have entered while the cleaning crew was changing bedding. Doing his thing, was no doubt the amusement of the day.

  Sometimes, Da found a toad or a lizard in his pillow slip, but what finally got to Loni, was one night, when the younger man found he had no bed at all. Da whined in misery, slunk down where the mat should have been, and curled up against the wall, with great tears forming in his large, expressive eyes.

  Loni knew the boy was unusually tired that day from the heavy day's labors. This was the last straw, and it made his blood
boil to see Da so tormented.

  Marching determinedly to the door, he meant to deal with Galar, once and for all. He never made it.

  Their two original caretakers had watched the whole thing.

  The foursome had been under observation for some time, their supervisors laughing at the constant battering the younger pair took, waiting to see, just what it would take, for the one they called 'Flaw', to react.

  They never bargained, he would actually have a breaking point.

  Before Loni could reach the hall, each overseer grabbed him by an arm, and brought him up short. They were large bulky men, and held the muscular 'Flaw' suspended above the floor, but Loni still fought them valiantly.

  They shook him; turned him to face them, and the one shouted in his face.

  "Stop it, Flaw! We'll deal with this."

  Without any further ado, they propelled him forward to his mat, and unceremoniously, dumped him there. Then, the sleep quarters went into lockdown; no one in or out for the night.

  "These are my best workers!" declared the Super, as the two went out the door. "I can't have them wasting energy fighting!"

  When the door was closed, and the lights dimmed, Loni motioned to Da to join him. The younger one climbed in beside him, and together they slumbered so, for the night, Loni curled against Da's back, spoon-like.

  The next night, the pair called 'No name' and 'Flaw' were given a private room. Ever after, their door was always barred, day and night, from intruders.

  Chapter 5

  "I am so sick of this!" complained the short chubby Asian CCA to her companion. "We are forever emptying her pee hat. Where does she get it all? She must drink gallons during the day to void so much at night."

  "I've already put in a complaint to her physician. He said to restrict her fluid intake. No water after seven at night, and only one pitcher of ice-water during the day. Her electrolytes drop too low."

  "That will teach her," laughed the other.

  "She still struggles with Thrush," a third broke in, in the patient's defense. "The reason she drinks so much is because it eases her dry mouth and nausea."

  "Then give her the anti-nausea medication."

  "She refuses to take meds she feels she doesn't need," countered the other. "Says, they add to her dry mouth. She wasn't one to take drugs prior to this; has an allergy to some drugs, especially those for pain."

  "Oh, posh! That's all something in her head," disagreed the first. "Her dry mouth is because she breathes through her mouth at night; the tumor blocks her nose."

  "None of that matters. We follow doctor's orders. No water..."

  ****

  For two nights and a day, Gemma had been wondering why the water girls would give her a jug of ice-water, and immediately the nurse or CCA would snatch it away. When she asked, she was told, her void and intake were being monitored; fluid ingestion recorded; after every meal, they even counted every glass of juice and milk.

  But night time was the worst.

  I can't take this anymore! If they won't give me water, I'll just steal it from the tap in the bathroom.

  Gemma hid the Styrofoam cup in the folds of her hospital gown, pushing the pole of the IV along the floor toward the bathroom. It was almost four in the morning, and the nurse was nowhere in sight. She knew it was soon time for the Chemo bag to be replaced; they always woke her to do it.

  But she needed to drain...and desperately craved water. She would do anything to get it!

  Yet, when she had accomplished the deed, it seemed a pointless endeavor. The liquid hadn't done much to alleviate the problem. Gemma was still dying of thirst.

  Finally, at six AM someone took pity on her, giving her a jug of water. By shift change at eight, she had drank most of it, afraid they would snatch it away, when the new girls came on.

  ****

  It was finally morning. The nurses from both shifts were in review.

  Gagging, Gemma swiftly sat up in the hospital bed. Something was slowly slipping from her nose, down her throat. She leaned far forward, but it failed to stop what was happening.

  She coughed hard, grabbed at a tissue from the box on the table at her side. Gasping to catch a breath, she gagged violently again.

  Whatever was in there, now slid to the top of her windpipe, cutting off the air completely.

  For this round, Gemma was in the bed nearest the door. A nurse appeared from the nursing station directly across; stood in the doorway, watching, a worried look on her face. Desperately struggling to breathe, Gemma was completely unaware of this concerned observer.

  Coughing, retching, she finally gagged the obstruction up, and spit it into the soft paper in her hand.

  Gemma opened her fist, staring at the thing lying there: a large gob of greenish-gray; square...like a metal chip, and hard.

  What the heck! Is this part of my tumor?

  "Are you alright?" asked the nurse, approaching the bedside.

  Gemma held out what she had regurgitated; the woman turned away, repulsed. She didn't seem much inclined to examine the thing further.

  "I nearly choked..."

  "I know. We were watching from the nursing station. We had no idea how to help you. I'm glad, you're okay."

  Only then, did Gemma become aware of the crowd gathered in the doorway. Quickly the rest of the staff turned back to the work they had been doing.

  Oh, man! I've had an audience. How embarrassing!

  ****

  "She's lost her tag," revealed the orderly to the head physician. "We all watched from the nurses' station as she almost choked, gagging it up. It had grown too large to pass down the throat. We wouldn't have a problem, if it had been smaller; would just have passed into the stomach and adhered to the wall. Now, instead, she has no tag."

  With little show of sympathy, the doctor retorted: "Well, see she is tagged again. We have done too much with her, to be stymied, now. We can't be losing her!"

  "Where should we tag her, and...how?"

  "Try her IV site."

  ****

  Gemma was so uncomfortable she felt like crying. For days, she had tried to get the nurse to look at her IV site; it ached like heck! But, nobody listened...until it was too late.

  Now she was on antibiotics, with an infected wrist. Each time, they had to squeeze the wound to extract the puss, before applying the ointment, and wrapping the area.

  It will leave a scar now, for the rest of my life!

  ****

  "Her body rejects any tag we try to introduce," complained the orderly. "The IV site is badly infected, and her veins are rolling. She's almost impossible to plant another IV; covered with bruises from where we've tried...we are going to lose this one, if we don't take other measures."

  "Okay," decided the physician. "We'll give her the blood transfusion. I'll see you get the compatible supply..."

  As the orderly turned to go, the other stopped him with a word.

  "See that she's tagged properly, after. Try it orally..."

  "She's leery; questions everything we do..."

  "Tell her, she's low in potassium..."

  The other nodded, and went to carry out his orders.

  ****

  Loni and Da were weeding out the portulaca in the flower beds, throwing the prolific plants in a pail to die, before they were burned in the refuse. The two controllers surprised them, coming out of nowhere, grabbing Loni by either arm, as was their custom, and starting off with him in tow. Loni had been intent on his thoughts, deep in mental concentration, listening in to the minds of the healthcare personal in the adjacent lab-room; he hadn't even sensed the presence of his overseers.

  "Come on, Flaw!" declared the rougher handler on his right. "It's your turn to give. They have need for more blood."

  Oh, not again! I just gave two days ago. Why always me?

  "It's no use telling him," his companion remonstrated. "He's not looking at you, so he can't understand. Remember, he's this freak of nature that's deaf to all we say."

>   These two must be new. It's been a while since they belittled me this way.

  "Why they even want his blood, then?" demanded the other. "I thought the flaws weren't allowed companions?"

  "They usually aren't, but every once in a while we get a reject, a difficult case they've put a lot into, and don't want it to go to waste. Anyway, Flaw is of cross-mix blood. He can give blood to any new one developing."

  "You'd think that would result in a flawed one?"

  The other shrugged. "What do I know about it? Let the docs do their thing. They can deal with the consequences; it's their experiment, and...they're learning new things each day."

  Chapter 6

  "Arch your back! Like a cat!" ordered the large, solid man behind Gemma.

  She tried to comply, but she wasn't certain what he meant. She pushed out her belly.

  "No! Not in!" he commanded gruffly. "Out! I can't get the needle between the vertebrae. Do you want me to cripple you?"

  His anger was apparent, though Gemma knew doctor Harmon wasn't usually this curt. He was the more gentle of the physicians caring for her. But, she was small, compared to him, half his girth, and she'd always been afraid of larger men.

  Yet, he was the only one in whose eyes she'd ever seen compassion; the others all looked at her like she was something growing in a Petri dish, and they were watching through the microscope.

  Gemma moved her hips backward, toward the physician.

  "That's better!"

  To break the silence that followed, as he swabbed, then injected the freezing, Gemma tried to explain.

  "I didn't understand before, but now...I do."

  "Hold still..."

  She was seated on a stool, leaning forward, her arms on a pillow atop the bed, with Doctor Harmon behind her, so she wouldn't see the huge needle coming. But Gemma felt when it punctured the skin; the numbness wasn't quite complete.

  He drove it deeper, and she held her breath.

  To keep from thinking about what was happening at her back, her mind went to the many unanswered questions.

 

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