An overweight paramedic with a stringy looking beard looked up from his phone with obvious surprise. He yelled to the driver to start the engine then took two large steps to land in front of John with a grace that defied his appearance.
“Gunshot to the shoulder,” John rasped through his sand dry throat, “severe blood loss.”
“We’ve got more buses in transit,” the paramedic announced. “How many more casualties?”
“There’s a dead guy up there, the one that did this, but as far as I know that’s it. Fuck him though, we need to get this lady to the hospital right now.”
“Don’t worry,” the paramedic assured him, “me and my partner in there are the best in the business.”
With one fluid motion he turned and rolled out the stretcher that quickly expanded its frame to the surface of the road. With complete confidence he assisted John to lay Klementina onto the thin white mattress, then ran a strap across her ankles and another across her waist. A second later and the stretcher was on board with its new passenger, the paramedic crouched beside her.
“You staying or coming?” he asked John urgently.
John looked over his shoulder at the growing chaos and unsettled crowd that was beginning to strangle the busy street and hastily made his decision.
“I’m coming,” he declared as he jumped up, the strong smell of bleach overwhelming his senses as the rear doors were pulled closed. The paramedic thumped his fist twice into the steel roof, and a second later the siren began to scream while the driver pushed his way onto the other side of the road, headlights flashing and oncoming traffic forced to screech out of the way with blaring horns.
“Okay little lady,” the paramedic began while maintaining his balance, “let’s get you comfortable.”
As though conducting his own private symphony his arms flew into action. He removed John’s blood drenched shirt and cleaned the area as best he could considering fluid was still seeping out, taped some thick padding to the wound, inserted a tube into a vein just below her elbow, wrapped a black band around her arm to monitor blood pressure and finally retrieved a syringe from one of the cabinets by his knees.
“This should ease a bit of the pain for the moment, okay?”
With teeth still clenched tight and sweat dripping down the sides of her face, Klementina nodded to let him know she understood. Soon a sunset warm chemical rush moved along her insides and the tension along her jaw fell away. Her eyes closed for just a moment then opened again, still wet from the tears but softer in focus. Slowly her breathing became less laboured.
The paramedic tore open a package to reveal a small, plastic tube which he placed in Klementina’s hand.
“This is the magic whistle. I want you to breathe through it as much as you can until we get to the hospital.” He turned to John and winked. “Don’t worry, this is Miami. I deal with gunshots from sun down until dawn, seven nights a week. She’s lost a lot of blood but unless the bullet’s done something real strange she’ll be just fine.”
John reached out to steady himself as the ambulance turned sharply and then peered down at Klementina. He could see she was doing her best to smile back at him, but the pain was obviously still far too strong. When he was sure of his balance he lifted a finger to his lips to indicate she should use the magic whistle, and she proceeded to inhale the pungent fumes until the interior lights began to pulse and dance and her eyes took on a snow globe like sheen.
“I should’ve seen it coming,” she mumbled. “The lie can be just as true as the truth that’s born of a lie.”
John knew the drugs were beginning to take hold so placed a hand on her arm to try to offer her a little comfort. Surely, he thought, the hospital couldn’t be too far now.
“If you stare into the abyss,” she continued with eyes fixated on the overhead light, “it’s not what you see that’s dangerous, it’s knowing what you can’t be a part of, coming face to face with an arrow of time that points in all directions.” Her hand shot out and grabbed his arm as she inhaled more bliss from the magic whistle. “Such beautiful things wait for us on the other side of the flames, you believe me don’t you?”
“Sure thing,” John lied, guessing that she was now high as a kite in a thunder storm.
“We have to move quickly,” she slurred. “Pretty soon the rules will be out the window and bleeding will be all that’s left to do…”
Her eyes rolled back and then closed. The paramedic checked her blood pressure and placed an oxygen mask over her face.
“Don’t worry,” he said while checking her pulse against his watch. “That whistle there packs one hell of a punch. At least now her heart isn’t racing so much.” The ambulance made two sharp turns and suddenly came to a stop. “We’re here.”
The back doors swung open to reveal a brightly lit loading bay, and Klementina was quickly ushered from the vehicle and through the sliding doors of the hospital emergency entrance as the paramedic lit a cigarette and casually wandered off. John stepped out and looked up to the towering structure, unsure of what he should do. He figured the smart move would be to make his way to the hotel, pick up Bobbie and make the next flight heading back to Australia. Death had made a surprise entrance to the investigation and he knew that meant he was swimming in the deep end of the pool, and just below the surface there were no doubt sharks ready to feed.
He turned around and took in the neon of the city at night, scattered thoughts vying for attention. Heading back home really did seem to be the best option, but either way he couldn’t just leave Klementina on her own. Not until someone else arrived anyway. And there was always the chance it could be Rebecca, who he’d been so close to he could have reached out and touched her. Now that he knew without a doubt that she was here, wouldn’t it be worth trying to talk with her one last time? If he was already at the deep end of the pool maybe the best thing to do was dive down a little deeper.
Resigned to the decision he’d just made he marched through the sliding doors into the chaos that was the emergency waiting room. Injuries of all descriptions were on display and at a long counter to his right a security guard was trying to calm down a woman who was screaming that her arm was broken and she shouldn’t have to wait like the others. A battered and bruised door to the left was constantly opening and closing as nurses dashed in an out to receive newly transported patients. Standing there almost hypnotised by the sights, sounds and smells, John fit right in with his blood soaked singlet.
When the woman with the supposed broken arm was finally ushered to a seat he made his way to the counter. At first the attendant, a middle aged woman who seemed to have given up even trying to smile many years ago, had no intention of providing him with any information. Her tone soon softened however when the sound of his accent was accompanied with the warmest smile he could muster considering the situation, and so the attendant checked her computer.
“Take the elevator to the fifth floor and turn right. Keep going until you find ward 5C. That’s one of our gun wards, so you’ll find your friend there.”
He stepped through the chaos of the room and made his way up, then followed the directions he’d been given by heading right down a long corridor that was busy with nurses darting in multiple directions while crackly speakers released continuous announcements. Nobody seemed to notice him, with one heavy set nurse clipping his shoulder with enough force that he reached out to the wall to keep his balance. When he saw the ward he was after he quickly shuffled out of the way of the bustling staff and was greeted with yet another frantic display of nurses and doctors spilling in and out of rooms, many with splashes of blood decorating what were once white coats.
Up ahead there was a lone plastic chair nestled against the wall, and so eased his weight onto the frame. For now at least, he was sure the only thing he could do was wait. The counter to his left was a hive of activity and he figured he would just be an annoyance, so leaned back and let the sounds of the hospital wash over him. He might have been half way acr
oss the world from home, but the din was somehow familiar, almost comforting in a way that shouldn’t have made any sense. Of course, countless were the nights he had found himself waiting in harshly lit corridors just like this one, to the point that just about all the staff knew him by name. Now however, he was a stranger in what was the strangely familiar.
With the adrenaline leaving his body exhaustion was beginning to creep in, leaving his thoughts struggled and muddy. He couldn’t tell how long he sat there with eyes blankly staring at the wall, it could have been a minute or an hour, but something caught his attention and broke the almost meditative state he’d slipped into. To his left an exhausted looking nurse manoeuvred a squeaking bed to rest against the wall of the corridor, kicked down to activate the brakes with tattered, blood smeared sneakers and then disappeared. Klementina’s tattooed arm hung exposed from the frame.
John walked up to find her eyes wide and alert. Fresh gauzes were taped to her shoulder and her dress had been replaced with a crinkled hospital gown. She managed a weak grin as he placed his hands on the cold steel of the bed frame.
“You’re still here,” she said with a touch of surprise.
“I couldn’t miss seeing the inside of a Miami hospital,” he replied. “How you feeling?”
“Pretty fucking sore,” Klementina laughed, causing her face to tighten. “The bullet went straight through. Some stitches inside, some stitches outside, and now it’s just a matter of being sure they’ll hold. As you can see,” she indicated their position in the hall, “I’m not the only one with a hole where it shouldn’t be, but I’m probably luckier than most.”
John found it strange to see her so vulnerable, especially considering the impact she had made on him with her confidence and unwavering surety upon the stage, and now that the threat of danger had slithered back into the shadows he couldn’t help the curiosity that was rising.
“It’s none of my business Klementina, but did you know the guy that did this?”
“You sound just like a cop,” she joked.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” he said, regretting his stupid question, “it really isn’t my business.”
Klementina peered at him with a strange sense of knowing, almost as if she were reading his thoughts.
“Did you sign the agreement?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Well, considering you being such a gentleman and all and carrying my sorry ass, you should probably know it doesn’t really mean anything. Legally speaking, anyway. We just want people to understand the decision to step on board with us shouldn’t be taken lightly.” She reached up and traced her finger across the dressing. “I guess tonight drove that point home.”
“You sure make an impactful presentation, I’ll give you that.”
“Hell, it’s just the tip of the iceberg.” She struggled to lift herself against the thin pillow. “In answer to your question, yes I knew him. We all did. He was a great guy, but right now I can’t waste any tears on him. Later maybe, but not now.”
“I’m confused,” John confessed. “You say he was a good guy but he tried to kill you.”
“Desperation drives us into the sharpest of corners, something you probably know better than most.” What the hell was that supposed to mean, he wondered? “Let’s just say he got himself into some trouble a month or so ago when he got pulled over with a car load of weapons and the FBI stepped in and messed with his head. They’ve been trying to infiltrate us for a while now, and I guess this is their way of trying to shake things up a little.”
John instantly thought of the occupants of the car he and Vanessa had managed to shake earlier and the agents that had invited themselves into his hotel room. Surely there was no connection with the body lying back at the casino? Dangerous puzzle threads tempted unravelling and threw a dark web across the whole job. Things had already taken on the motion of a stomach churning rollercoaster, and the window of opportunity to jump off was closing very quickly.
“Listen Klementina,” he said respectfully, “I have to admit I’ve still got no idea what this Hallucigenia Project is all about and tonight hasn’t exactly shed any light on it. So I have to ask, what are you all up to exactly? Because from where I’m sitting, things are looking pretty dangerous already.”
“Yeah I guess they do,” she replied with a hint of resignation.
“So what’s so important that someone is willing to try to kill you?”
“Are you sure you want to ask that question John?”
“I just did.”
She slid down against the pillows as spots of fresh blood broke through the surface of the dressing. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling while a saline solution slid down the thin tube connected to the inside of her forearm, the outline of her tattoos sharp beneath the harsh bright hospital lights.
“The end of the world as we know it is coming,” she stated. “We have an idea when, and we know how. When it happens, there’s something very important that needs to be done, and believe me when I say there’s forces coming to together right now to try and stop us. The Hallucigenia Project represents the next stage of human evolution, if we can survive. It’s also the chance for a new family for someone like you, someone who’s ready to question everything you’ve ever known.”
John wasn’t sure what to say so for the moment kept quiet. Talking about the end of the world? That pretty much sealed the idea that he was circling in the gravity of a cult, just as he had been warned. It was jarring, almost disappointing, that a night of such contrast, a night of thoughtful discussions and sudden violence, could end with such a questionable declaration.
“I know the thoughts that are running through your head right now,” Klementina predicted. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Now she turned her head to find his eyes. “Did you know that the humpback whale uses a low frequency call that is the loudest of any creature on earth? Its cry can be heard for more than five hundred miles. That’s a long way to try to say hello, so imagine what calls might be heard if we truly listened to the stars? We’ve heard the cry John, and not only is it hauntingly beautiful, it’s a chance to fulfil the true desire of life. Soon a new dream will be born of fire.”
“I’m no scientist,” John smiled, “but I thought we’ve been listening for broadcasts for decades now.”
“You’re right, we have, but radio signals might not be the only thing we should be listening for.”
He would have asked her what she meant but could see exhaustion beginning to creep back into her eyes and knew that rest was what she needed. The time for him to depart had arrived, but there was one nagging question he just couldn’t neglect.
“I think I’d better head back to the hotel and get out of these clothes,” he said light heartedly. “Before I go though, that woman back there on the stage, who was she? I couldn’t help but notice her accent.”
“You mean Bec?” Klementina smirked. “Like you she’s a long way from home, but now she’s part of the family. She’s my right hand when it comes to getting things done.”
“So she works for you?”
“Works with me.”
“Over there!”
John turned to the source of the sudden announcement and spotted three figures rushing towards them. It took a couple of seconds but he soon recognised two of the faces. Aaron, the pickup truck driver with a penchant for loud heavy metal who had pulled up outside the store with the fish tanks, lead the trio with a stern look of worry etched into his toughened features. Keeping in tight step behind him with dishevelled hair bouncing against haggard glasses was Eric, his bulky frame visibly tense while beside him strode a dark skinned man in a sharp business suit. When they reached the side of the bed it was as if John wasn’t even there.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Aaron barked. “What are they doing leaving you out here like this?”
“It’s okay,” Klementina soothed as she reached up for his hand. “There are people here that need a lot more attention than I do. Besides, now
that you’re here we can arrange my release and have our own medical team take care of things.”
“I’ll take care of it,” the man in the suit declared. “I’ve managed to keep the cops off our back for now, but they want a statement in the next twenty four hours.”
“You’re the best Marty,” Klementina said. “Last thing I need right now is cops chasing a bone.”
“It’s not the cops we need to worry about.” Marty quickly eyeballed John but then turned back to the bed. “They’ve already seen the security footage and confirmed the situation with witnesses, so it’s a no brainer on their end. As for our friends in the bureau, well, let’s just say tempers might be on the rise.”
“We knew things were going to start to heat up,” Klementina said with an heir of contemplation, “and now they have. The first gust of the storm’s just rattled the windows.”
Marty squeezed her hand then marched off towards the staff at the desk as Eric wiped at the sweat running down the back of his neck and seemed unsure of where to look, almost as if the sight of the blood pushing through the dressing could taint him in some way.
“I can’t believe he did this to you,” he stammered. “Does it hurt?”
Aaron turned to him with eyebrows raised. “Why’d you have to go and ask a stupid question like that? She copped a bullet in the shoulder, of course it hurts.”
“It’s okay Aaron,” Klementina said forcefully before grinning up at Eric. “Actually it doesn’t hurt so much now. The bullet went straight through, so besides ruining my tattoos I should be just fine.”
Eric lowered his head. “I wish I was there,” he mumbled more to himself than anyone, “then I could’ve taken the bullet instead.”
An uncomfortable silence followed the sudden admission, and John decided it was time to make his exit.
“It’s been an interesting night,” he said, “but I think I’ll get going. You take care Klementina.”
She winced a grin one last time as Eric and Aaron finally acknowledged his presence with concerned looks.
The Hallucigenia Project Page 23