Meds

by Amy Cross

  “It's fine.”

  “Sure, but it's not exactly the kind of place to take a girl on a first date.”

  She turned to him, and she couldn't help but allow herself a faint smile.

  “There's that word again,” he continued. “Date. Well, I guess it is, isn't it? It's just the two of us, we had a couple of drinks, we got to know each other...”

  “True.”

  “Plus, you know, I'm going to try to kiss you before you go home.”

  She grinned, unable to hide her embarrassment. “You are, are you?”

  He nodded, before laughing.

  “Do you think that would be a good idea?” he asked.

  “I...” Blushing, she couldn't keep the smile from her face. “I honestly...”

  “It's a date,” he pointed out, “so I kind of have an obligation.”

  “You do.”

  “So you'll understand when I try.”

  “I will.”

  He paused, before leaning closer and then pulling back. “But not yet. I want to surprise you.”

  She smiled nervously.

  “What's wrong?” he asked. “You almost look scared.”

  “Nothing's wrong, I just... I haven't been on a date since I was back in nursing school.”

  “That long?”

  She nodded.

  “What gives?” he asked. “Someone like you should be fighting the men off. Have you just been hanging out with blind, deaf people?”

  She smiled. “I was focusing on my studies, and then I was focusing on my new job, and then...” She paused. “Well, then things got complicated and I really didn't want to see anyone much at all. To be honest, I became a little bit of a recluse before I somehow snapped myself out of it.”

  “Everyone at Middleford Cross has a skeleton in their closet,” he replied.

  “It's not really a skeleton,” she told him. “It's just that a patient died when I should have been there to save him. Lots of little mistakes added up to a tragedy.”

  He nodded, as if he understood. “I killed a little girl,” he said after a moment. “She was dying anyway, the cancer would have eaten her up in another six months, but I personally gave her an overdose of morphine. I was trying to ease her pain, and I went too far. I guess that's why I've been pursuing my research ever since, trying to find what I could have done differently.” He paused. “Her father was a powerful man and he got me blacklisted from every hospital in the country. Apart from Middleford Cross, of course. So that's how I ended up here.”

  “I'm glad you told me,” she replied. “I've got to admit, I was wondering. I mean, like you said, everyone at Middleford Cross has something in their past, something that means they're virtually unemployable anywhere else.”

  He nodded.

  “Jonathan,” she began, “I think -”

  “I meant what I said earlier,” he replied, interrupting her as he stepped closer. “Elly, I want you to promise me that you'll walk away from the job right now. Never go back to Middleford Cross, never have anything to do with Kirsten Winter again. Even tonight, all of this, it was all -” He caught himself just in time. “Never mind.”

  “All what?”

  “It doesn't matter.” He paused. “She just came very close tonight to making me do something awful. You have no idea how far Kirsten's influence spreads, how deeply she twists herself into everyone's lives. Every moment you're at that hospital, Elly, you're in danger, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you.” He stepped closer, looking deep into her eyes. “Promise me,” he continued.

  “I can't quit,” she told him.

  “Then maybe I have to get you fired. Anything to get you out of there, you're too... innocent, you're too good for that place.”

  She shook her head.

  “Elly -”

  “I can handle myself. I'm not some kind of delicate flower.”

  “I know you're not,” he replied. “You just don't know what you're up against. I do, and that's why I want you to stay the hell away.” He paused, before leaning closer and kissing her gently on the lips. After a moment, the kiss changed, becoming more passionate, and he put his hands on her shoulders as their tongues met. For a few seconds, they kissed in the shadows at side of the bar, before finally Elly pulled away as she realized something was wrong.

  “Your leg,” she whispered, looking down to see that his right leg was trembling violently. “Jonathan, are you okay?”

  “I'm fine,” he muttered, reaching down and putting a hand on the offending limb, as if he was trying to force it to stay still. “It just happens sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “I don't know, usually...” Letting go of the trembling leg, he turned back to her. “Usually it only happens when I go further with a girl, if you know what I mean. It's never happened just from a kiss before.”

  “Is it some kind of nervous condition?”

  “I don't know. I've never had it looked at. It just happens if there's any kind of intimacy.” He took a step back. “I'm sorry.”

  “Don't be sorry,” she replied, stepping after him and putting a hand on his arm. “It's fine. I'm fine. I just... I just want to know that you're fine too.” She waited for him to say something. “I've only been on two other first dates in my life,” she continued, “and like I said earlier, they were both a real long time ago. On neither of those first dates did I kiss the guy, and even when I kissed them later, I never made their legs shake, so...” She smiled cautiously. “I think that was a first.”

  “It was a mistake.”

  She shook her head.

  “You should go home,” he continued, stepping back again. This time, his leg finally seemed to be going back to normal, although he still seemed flustered. “I'll get you a cab.”

  “Jonathan -”

  “This was a mistake,” he added, as if he was on the verge of panic. “I should never have listened to her. That's the problem, though. She's got me under control, and she knows she can get me to do anything. I figured I could fight back, but now I realize that's impossible.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, stepping toward him. “Do you mean Kirsten Winter?”

  “You're too good to get mixed up in this,” he replied, grabbing her hand and leading her back around the bar. A couple of cabs were parked nearby, and he marched her straight toward the nearest. “I might not be able to do the right thing by most people, but I sure as hell can help you.” Opening the cab's back door, he turned to her. “Promise me, hand on heart, that you'll never go back to Middleford Cross again. Promise me, Elly.”

  “I...” She paused. “No,” she said finally. “No, I can't promise that. It's my job. Jonathan, I don't have to go home yet, I was having a good -”

  “She made me do this,” he replied.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She wanted me to bring you out tonight, get you drunk and sleep with you.”

  She stared at him, shocked. “Why?”

  “To destabilize you. To test you. Whatever, maybe just for her own sick amusement. The point is...” He paused. “I have a friend named Wallace Ford who I think can get you a job. I'll give him your number and I'll get him to call, you'll be okay if you just get away from Middleford Cross. Promise me you won't go back to that place.”

  “I can't promise that. I need the money.”

  “My friend will call you and offer you a new job. A better job.”

  “I really -”

  “He will call you!”

  “And when he does, that'll be great, but until then I have to stick to my current job.” She sighed, feeling as if the evening had taken a very strange turn. “Please, try to understand.”

  “I have something I need to do,” he replied, stepping back before pulling some cash from his pocket and handing the notes to the driver. “This'll more than cover it,” he told the guy. “She'll tell you where she lives.”

  “Jonathan,” Elly replied, watching as he turned and hurried away. “Wait!
Jonathan!”

  She waited, but he was already lost in the shadows, and a moment later he was gone.

  “You going somewhere or not?” the driver asked after a moment.

  “I...” She paused, before climbing into the back. “I guess I should get home,” she told him. “After all, I have work tomorrow.”

  ***

  Making her way along the corridor, Kirsten stopped as she saw Sharon standing outside one of the rooms. From beyond the door, there was the sound of equipment banging about, as if someone was frantically working.

  “I thought he was off tonight,” Sharon said, turning to Kirsten. “He doesn't seem quite right.”

  Joining her by the door, Kirsten looked into the room and saw that Doctor Carmichael was pulling another trolley over to Rachel's bed. He seemed to be almost in a state of panic, and he hadn't even changed into his work clothes.

  “It's okay, Nurse Cassidy,” she said after a moment, “I can handle this.”

  “Is he okay?” she asked, frowning as she watched Carmichael tipping supplies out of a cupboard so he could sort through them on the floor. “Has he been drinking?”

  “Leave it to me. Go and check on the other patients, please.”

  “But -”

  “Go and check on the other patients!”

  As Sharon headed away, Kirsten calmly stepped into the room and then pushed the door shut, before pausing for a moment to watch as Carmichael got to work filling a syringe. Checking her watch, she saw that it was a little past 2am.

  “Did you suddenly remember something?” she asked finally. “I was rather hoping that your date with Ms. Blackstock would keep you entertained well toward morning. I know you're quick, but shouldn't you have at least stuck around for some pillow talk?”

  “I'm fine,” he muttered, not even looking at her as he began to inject Rachel's arm. “I don't need your help.”

  “You don't?” Stepping closer, she saw that he had several more needles already laid out. “How was Ms. Blackstock, anyway? Did the two of you hit it off?”

  “I don't have time to talk about that now.”

  “I see.”

  “I'm busy.”

  “Evidently. I thought you didn't have any more work scheduled with Rachel until tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow,” he muttered, “always tomorrow. I've been working so slowly, it's like I'd almost given up.” He grabbed another syringe and filled it with a different solution. “And then I realized, I don't need to wait. I can just get it all done tonight, every last part of the experiment.”

  “Huh.” She frowned. “So would I be right in thinking that you've decided you want to end our little arrangement? And now you're trying to complete your work all in one night, so you have no more need of the facilities here?”

  “I'm sure you can find another doctor to take over.”

  “Obviously, but that would be rather inconvenient.”

  “You'll have to forgive me.” He injected Rachel again, his hands trembling in the process. “I've had enough of this place,” he continued, speaking so fast and so eagerly that he almost tripped over his own words. “The things I've put up with and accepted, the things I've done just so I can stay in your good books...” He made his way around to the other side of the bed and gave Rachel yet another injection. “I can't live like this anymore. I can't live with the things you ask me to do.”

  “Well,” Kirsten replied, “it seems that Elly Blackstock had quite a profound impact on you.”

  “She's a good person. I told her to leave this place and never come back.”

  “I doubt she'll listen to your advice.”

  “She will if she has any sense. Anyway, I...” He paused, before finally turning to her. “I couldn't do it. I know you wanted me to sleep with her, to get under her skin, to gain some kind of leverage over her, but I just couldn't.”

  “Why not? Please don't tell me you actually feel some affection toward her?”

  “You wouldn't understand.”

  “Why wouldn't I?”

  “Because you're a goddamn bitch!” he shouted, staring at her for a moment as if his rage might be about to boil over. Finally, he got back to work, giving Rachel yet another injection.

  “You're drunk,” Kirsten pointed out.

  “I only had a few beers.”

  “Do you seriously think you can accelerate your work and get it all done tonight? You'll kill the poor woman.”

  “I was killing her anyway,” he replied. “You should be glad I'm doing this. You'll have what you want out of me by morning and then we can go our separate ways. Then you can do whatever you want, and I won't have to know.”

  Rachel's hands twitched, and she began to clench and unclench her fists. Before she could do anything else, however, Carmichael wrapped a leather strap across her chest, confining her to the bed.

  “Your sudden pang of conscience,” Kirsten continued, “evidently doesn't extend to Rachel.”

  “Can you please just get out of my way?” he snapped, hurrying back around the bed. “Don't worry, I'll stick to my side of the the deal. Once it's all done, I'll leave a copy of my results on your desk along with the fully-working device. I know that's the only thing you care about.” He pulled a drawer open with such force that it tumbled out of its slot, spilling plastic beakers all over the floor. “Damn it!” he hissed, adding a few more expletives under his breath for good measure.

  “You're scaring her,” Kirsten said, stepping past him and looking down at Rachel's hands, before turning to see that the woman's lower face was shuddering, as if she was trying to scream. “There,” she continued, putting a hand on Rachel's arm, “it's going to be okay. Nothing has changed, he's just trying to do things faster, that's all.” She paused for a moment. “You'll be fine.”

  “You can stay for this if you want,” Carmichael continued, filling another syringe, “but I should warn you, it won't be pleasant. The pain receptors I'm about to activate in her mind... Well, let's just say that I'm turning her up to eleven. If my theory is valid, the overload will force new connections in her brain, and that's when she'll become susceptible to control. Then, I can try to -”

  “I know,” Kirsten said calmly. “I read your proposal, and I haven't forgotten a word of it.”

  “I just hope God forgives me,” Carmichael said, stepping closer to Rachel with the syringe in his right hand. “She's just one person. One soul, one brief moment of agony, and the experimental results could have profound implications for the whole of humanity. I'd never have been able to test this theory on human subjects in any other setting.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “This is the culmination of so much work. Pain is the driving force of life, and I'm about to prove that.”

  “I'm sure you are,” Kirsten replied, taking a syringe from the floor and filling it from a bottle of clear solution.

  “If I can control pain,” he continued, moving the tip of the needle closer to Rachel's neck, “I can control life. And if I can control life, I can control everything. And if I can control -”

  Before he could finish, he let out a gasp as he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. Turning, he was just in time to see Kirsten pulling a needle away while fixing him with a confident grin.

  “What the hell was that?” he stammered, already starting to feel dizzy.

  “Just a little something to knock you out,” she replied, stepping back and watching as he dropped down to the floor. She smiled as he struggled to get back up, but she knew he had no chance now that his legs were in spasm. “You're of no further use to me, Jonathan,” she continued, “and I have a copy of all your research, so I really don't need to indulge you for a moment longer. Besides, you demonstrated the other day that the prototype capsule works perfectly well, and it's not as if I need a dozen of the damn things. I know you never liked me, but still, I think you might have underestimated just how far I'm willing to go to get what I want.”

  “Please,” he gasped, dropping the syringe as he reached out to h
er. “I still... so much...”

  “Don't worry,” she added. “I'll take very, very good care of you once you're out.”

  He tried to say something else, before slumping down against the floor.

  Stepping over his unconscious form, Kirsten checked to make sure that Rachel's pulse was steady, before heading back across the room, opening the door, and leaning out into the corridor.

  “Nurse Cassidy?” she called out. “Nurse Cassidy, I need you at once!”

  A moment later, Sharon emerged from one of the other rooms. “Everything okay?” she asked cautiously.

  “Absolutely,” Kirsten replied, “it's just... Do you remember when you told me you'd be happy to help out if I needed something a little unconventional? So long as there's some money in it for you, obviously.”

  “Sure,” Sharon said cautiously. “Why? Do you need something?”

  “Two things, actually,” Kirsten told her. “First, I need your help with something rather delicate. And second, I need your absolute discretion. You're going to hear some noises that might make your skin crawl, and I need to know that you won't ask any questions or talk to anyone about what's happening.”

  Sharon paused, before nodding. “Fine. I want the money first, though.”

  Part Five

  The Mistake

  Chapter Twenty

  Two years ago

  “Oh God, no,” Elly stammered, her eyes filled with shock as she stepped toward the bath. “Please, no...”

  “What's wrong?” Rodney Pickering asked, smiling at her as he sat naked in the boiling hot water, with steam rising all around. Paralyzed from the neck down following a traffic accident a year earlier, he could barely even move his head and he hadn't looked down yet to see what was happening to his body.

  Reaching out, Elly held a hand in the steam, but she immediately pulled back as she felt a flash of scalding pain.

  “Are you alright?” Rodney continued with a frown. “You're starting to worry me.”