Drop of Doubt

by C. L. Stone

  Marc grinned just a little, but he waved me off and took to removing his jeans. “Do I have to wear the green gown?” he asked.

  I glanced back at Dr. Green but he shrugged. “I guess not,” I said.

  Marc was wearing boxers and tossed his jeans off. It took him a moment to angle his body so he wasn’t doing more damage to his open wound. He sat back a little, propping himself up on his elbows as if to get out of the way. The wound continued to drip on the table.

  “Catch up some of that blood off the table, Sang,” Dr. Green said. “You’re making a mess.”

  “Marc’s the one bleeding,” I said, trying to be funny. If they weren’t going to take this seriously, I wasn’t about to be the dork in the room who wasn’t laughing. No wonder Mr. Blackbourne often got after Dr. Green about being silly sometimes.

  “Don’t blame me,” Marc said. “Blame the nail.”

  I held a bunch of gauze against Marc’s leg, trying to stop the flow.

  “We need to clean the wound first,” Dr. Green said. “Just catch the blood from getting all over the place for now.”

  “He’s bleeding a lot.”

  “It’s good that he does. It’ll clean out any bits of jean material that might have gotten jammed in with the nail.”

  I felt the edge of a curse behind my lips, wanting to snap at him like Gabriel or North. Instead, I glanced around the room, looking for more gauze or paper towels to work with as the stuff I had was dirty now. Marc’s warm blood stained my gloves and made them slippery. I used clean gauze to wipe it away, although droplets of blood flicked onto my clothes.

  Dr. Green pointed to a couple of sterile towels that I’d glanced over in my panic. “Use those.”

  “Hold this,” I told Marc, taking his hand and getting him to hold the gauze against his leg over the wound so it would stop any more blood from spreading.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Marc said, pushing the gauze against his leg.

  I did my best to wipe the table cleaner and around his leg so he was reasonably dry.

  Dr. Green drifted to the table, hovering over my shoulder. He picked up a strange looking syringe that was big and held a lot of clear liquid. “Try these,” he said.

  I took it from his hand, seeing a thick plastic nip at the end. “What do I do?”

  “It’s point and shoot. Stick it in the hole and push down on the plunger. You’ll flush out any debris.”

  I was tempted to shoot him in the chest with it. Instead, I turned back to Marc, holding the syringe in my hand.

  “She is trained with that thing, right?” Marc asked.

  “Of course she is. I just trained her. Didn’t you hear me?” Dr. Green nudged me forward. “Go ahead.”

  I returned to Marc. Marc pulled his hand away from the wound.

  “Probably want to clean it first, Sang. You don’t want to stab him again. You want to flush the hole, not make a new one.”

  “Yeah, Sang, clean it,” Marc said.

  I glanced back at Dr. Green, and he pointed at a bottle of liquid sitting on the counter. The bottle was marked with a long name I was too distressed to read, but I imagined it was peroxide or rubbing alcohol or something similar.

  I went back for the bottle, putting down the syringe. I uncapped the bottle, found a fresh piece of gauze to soak the liquid in to. I held it to Marc’s leg, but the blood soaked through before it probably ever touched the wound.

  “Don’t worry about the gauze for now,” Dr. Green said. He hovered over my shoulder. I felt his chest warming my back. This time his voice was calmer, several notches down from the joking voice he had been using. “Pour it over the opening.”

  I sucked in a breath, cupping Marc under the knee with a new towel, and tipping the bottle over until the clear liquid dripped over the wound.

  “Now that you can see what you’re doing,” Dr. Green said, “try the syringe.”

  I aimed the syringe at the hole. It was hard to control my shaking fingers, but the nip caught the edge and I was able to ease it in just a little.

  “Push the plunger,” Dr. Green said.

  I did it slowly. When the opening in Marc’s leg started to overflow with a mix of blood and liquid, I stopped.

  “Keep going,” Dr. Green said, his voice incredibly soft now. He had his reassuring voice back, the one I’d heard before. Promising that I’d be okay. All I had to do was listen. “Keep cleaning it out until what comes out is more clear than it is blood.”

  I did as he told me to, rinsing out the wound. While it was never completely clear, eventually it was just a wash with little bits of red instead of mostly blood.

  “That’s it,” Dr. Green soothed. “Now here’s some packing material.” He pointed to small pieces of what looked like clean gauze but shaped smaller. “You want to push this into the wound.”

  I picked it up off the counter.

  “Aim the packing material at the hole.”

  I touched the edge of Marc’s thigh to hold him steady. I placed the edge of the material to hover over the wound.

  Dr. Green shifted my hands over a little, guiding me to try to stuff it in at the same angle the nail had gone in. “Good. Now press it into the wound nice and tight. That should help stop the bleeding.”

  I hesitated, sensing both Dr. Green watching and Marc’s wide eyes on me, expectant. My heart was thundering. We just took a nail out. He wanted me to put something back in?

  “Stop thinking,” Dr. Green said, his voice a little stronger now. “Push it in.”

  I pushed gently. Marc winced. I kept my fingers over the packing to try to keep it against his leg as I worried it would fall out.

  “Good,” Dr. Green said. He held out a hand, covering mine. He took up a stack of gauze and then eased my fingers from Marc’s leg and covered the wound. “I need tape.” He nodded to a roll of medical tape on the tray. I picked it up and he guided me through tearing off strips. He took the strips from me and dressed the packed wound. My fingers rattled and I shoved them behind my back.

  Finally, Marc’s wound was closed up and dressed.

  “Beautiful,” Dr. Green said. He pressed a hand to my shoulder, luring me back from my desire to run, now that Marc wasn’t permanently injured from my inexperience. “You’ll make a good doctor yet.”

  “Maybe,” Marc said. His fingers hovered over the wound, as if protecting it. “Have to work on that yanking part. Was she supposed to use her fingers for that?”

  “Probably not. But you’ve got to give her credit. You tell her to jump ...”

  “I wouldn’t expect any different from an Academy girl,” Marc said.

  My eyes widened at this second mention of the Academy and his assumption. A thousand thoughts ran together in my mind, and at the same time, I tried to confirm what I’d just heard with Dr. Green but he wasn’t looking at me.

  Marc knew about the Academy. He rattled it off too easily. It seemed odd that Marc assumed I was Academy without knowing who I was. It was like he expected everyone here was involved with the Academy in some way.

  The hospital would probably have to be understanding if Dr. Green left at random for Academy reasons, did that mean Dr. Phillip Roberts—Dr. Green’s superior—was Academy, too?

  Could the Academy take over a hospital wing? Or did they own the entire hospital? Was that how things like letting me into this room and letting me take over taking out a nail was possible? Other doctors probably wouldn’t dream of it.

  I released another sigh. I didn’t know how to voice my suspicions. “May I wash my hands now, please?” I asked, which was the only thing I could come up with to say.

  SUSCEPTIBLE

  “What was that?” I asked Dr. Green inside the elevator. We were headed to the basement level. I’d washed my hands, but my clothes were still stained with blood. “Why ...”

  “Was it too much?” Dr. Green asked, in a gentle tone. His eyes focused on the reflective doors instead of looking at me. “Owen is always telling me I go too far.”

&
nbsp; “I could have hurt him,” I murmured. I brushed my thumb and forefinger against each other, rubbing, as I could still feel the rough metal and the warm blood together in a phantom memory. I’d pushed through it, mostly trying to prove to Dr. Green that I could do it and he couldn’t tease me. Now that it was over, I realized how that might have been a mistake. I wasn’t a doctor. I wasn’t even pretending to be one. I couldn’t imagine the damage I could have caused—or possibly hadcaused. What if I ripped Marc’s skin more than I needed? What if he got an infection?

  “You weren’t going to hurt him, Sang. I wouldn’t let you.”

  “I’m not a doctor.”

  The doors to the elevator opened. The sign on the wall across the corridor said the floor was for employees only. I hesitated only a moment, but when Dr. Green dashed out of the elevator and down the hallway, I followed behind him, not wanting to be alone. He paused just long enough that I could catch up beside him.

  “You could make a good doctor, if you wanted.” He put his hands behind his back, a position he took when he taught class or addressed the boys. “Sang, what prompted you to do it?”

  “Hm?”

  “I mean, you were hesitating. I could see it. You were going to tell me off and walk out.”

  “I thought about walking out.”

  “But you didn’t. Something changed,” he said, he slowed and stopped, turning to me. “What was it? What made you go ahead and yank the nail out?”

  “You did.” Wasn’t it obvious?

  He tilted his head, his eyebrow going up. “What do you mean?”

  I wasn’t sure I was supposed to mention it, but something Mr. Blackbourne said to me before echoed through me. He was always so blunt with what he was thinking. “Mr. Blackbourne told me to not let you all treat me like I’m a helpless girl. You were teasing me and wanted to show you I wasn’t going to run off like you expected.”

  Dr. Green broke out into a grin. “You thought I was teasing?”

  “Weren’t you?”

  “Well, of course I was. I just didn’t think you’d go through with it. Even the interns get squeamish and ask to be excused the first time they’re looking at a wound like that.”

  “So you wanted me to run out?”

  “I was waiting for you to snap back at me to do my job. I had this joke in my head. I was going to tell you off that you thought I was working too much.” The smile on his face softened, his eyes lit up. “I never thought you’d do it.”

  I bit back the urge to grin. Suddenly I wasn’t scared. I was proud. I didn’t want to admit it, but the boys often predicted what I was going to do, and the few times I could pull off surprising them, it made me feel good. “Maybe I should have warned you that Mr. Blackbourne gave me permission to show you guys up whenever possible.”

  “The traitor,” he said. He turned again down the hallway, his shoes making an echo in the emptiness. “Didn’t he realize he would unleash something .... I don’t even know what. You’re yanking nails out of a guy’s leg. With your bare hands.”

  “You said to do it!”

  Dr. Green laughed. He turned the corner. “I’m going to have to be more careful around you.”

  “You mean treat me more like a girl.”

  He stopped short in front of a door, spinning on me and bracing a hand at the wall, cutting me off. He was close enough that he was looking down at me. His eyes shadowed. “You are a girl, Sang. That’s not a bad thing to be. Owen’s got a good idea to teach the other boys not to walk all over you, but you need to remember who you are.”

  I blushed. “Is it wrong if I say I don’t know who I am? I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Dr. Green released a short breath. He lifted his hands, cupping his palms over my cheeks and directing my gaze into his green eyes. It was the first time I noticed the hazel ring closer to the middle. “I guess we all need reminding every once in a while. Your name is Sang Sorenson. You’re a teenage girl going to high school, who has had a sheltered life with ... well let’s just call it a practice family. Now you have the real one with us. You’re going to get through school, come hell or high water, because you’re resilient and graceful and you’ve got this impeccable outlook on life that despite everything that has been thrown at you, it doesn't hold you down. There’s only three things you have to remember: The first is to stay safe. We’re having a hard time with that right now but we’ll sort that out soon. The second is to keep yourself out of trouble. No drinking, stealing cars, or anything that would get you into trouble with the police ...”

  “Like performing minor surgery without being a doctor?”

  He smirked, and released me to chop me on the head. “You’re also a smart ass. Did I forget to say that before?”

  “What’s the third thing I have to do?”

  His eyes focused on me and his lips parted as if he was going to say something smart again. He stopped. His lips shut. An eyebrow arched, as if he saw something he didn’t expect. “Remember that we’re always right behind you. I might tease you. Owen might push you. The boys might go too far sometimes. The only thing you have to do is speak up when we’re going too far and not treating you like girls should be treated.”

  There was only one problem. I wasn’t really sure how a girl should be treated at all. What did I know about anything? Outside of what little I gathered around school and through books, I had my mother’s constant warnings always echoing in my head, telling me men were bad, that the world was horrible and I should stay locked away. I knew she was wrong, but I was constantly treading in unfamiliar territory. I sighed. “Just tell me to patch a guy’s leg wound shut. That’s easier to figure out.”

  He laughed. He opened the unmarked door we were standing beside.

  Inside was something that might have been an office at one point, but the central table was clustered with manila files, the walls were lined with couches and sofa chairs, I counted off enough spaces for nine people. There wasn’t a window, but along one wall was a fake one painted in. The ‘window’ looked out onto a sunny beach, with a palm tree and white sand.

  “Gabriel?” I asked, nodding to the mural.

  “Of course,” Dr. Green said, moving to the desk and hovering over the manila folders, looking through them. “He finds a blank wall or piece of furniture or anything to play with and he’ll draw on it. That includes your face, by the way.”

  I gazed at Gabriel’s work, wondering what he was doing. For that, I fingered the new phone I had tucked into my bra. Victor had said to use it for emergencies and it was for them to call me when they needed. It was hard not hearing from them all. I felt so useless waiting here at the hospital, being babysat, when I might be helpful somewhere else.

  Dr. Green’s shuffling behind me caused me to turn. He was shifting through the pile of folders. “What are we doing now?” I asked.

  “I have more doctoring to do, unfortunately,” he said. “So I might ask you to sit here for me while I go do that.”

  “Not one where you can pretend I’m the doctor?”

  He turned to me, his eyes lighting up. “Not when you look like you’ve just run off the set of a horror film.”

  I looked down at my clothes, realizing I must look like a real mess with blood stains. No wonder he brought me downstairs. “Oh.” And this time I really was disappointed. Walking around with Dr. Green had been bizarre, but he was a lot of fun.

  “I don’t have any spare clothes for you here, I’m afraid. I’d have to go get you some. And I’ve got to go into a place I can’t take you anyway. I thought you might be more comfortable down here for a while.”

  I gazed over to the faux window, frowning. “How long do I have to stay in the bubble?”

  “Pardon?”

  I turned to him, unsure. “You said to speak up when something is wrong.”

  “What’s wrong now?”

  “I understand why I’m down here, because of this,” I motioned to the blood stains. “What I don’t understand is why I’m in a bu
bble. Why was I sent here when I could be out there helping?”

  “Because someone is threatening you,” he said. “Isn’t that obvious?”

  “Someone is also out there threatening Mr. Blackbourne.”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s out there trying to figure out who it is.”

  Dr. Green pursed his lips. “You don’t think Owen would approve?”

  “I understand not being at school and being a target when there’s unknown danger,” I said. “I feel useless enough in this group without being stuffed in a bunker until someone else figures things out.”

  “You’re not useless, Sang.”

  “Is that why I’m sitting here in an office protected and not out there with someone? Victor was targeted, too. He’s not down here.”

  Dr. Green shook his head. “I don’t have the answer for you. It sounds like this guy is after you. He’s come after you too many times. Maybe we are being protective. Maybe it is because you’re a girl. You’re the first one we’ve had, and there’s a strong probability the only one we ever will.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His lips parted like he wanted to answer me, but he shut them closed again. He shook his head quietly, his eyes telling me that he had said too much already and couldn’t say any more. Academy secrets.

  I was the only one allowed in their group? No other girls could join? Was it a possibility? The more I learned about the rules, the more questions I had. I touched the cuff of the shirt I wore, smoothing the fabric absentmindedly. “Sean, give me something to do. Please? I don’t have to go bad guy hunting.” I snapped my fingers. “The diner! Can I go work at the diner?”

  Dr. Green rubbed a palm at the back of his neck. “I suppose you could. It is closer to home than I think the others want you to be.”

  “I don’t have to go home, but I can work in the back at the diner. I wouldn’t have to be in the way here. And at least I’m doing something useful.”

  “You were pretty good today, I thought.”

  “I’d rather do something that’s not probably considered unethical doctoring.”

  Dr. Green sighed. “If that’s what you want.”