by Perry Prete
The horrible feeling that he had to flee immediately wouldn't leave him.
Will hopped from the bed, stumbled, took hold of the bed, his head still fuzzy from the strange images he had been seeing. He placed both hands on his head, squeezing tightly, attempting to stem his mind from flowing side to side. Will felt his mind clear enough to make good his escape. He slowly pulled the curtain back, looked to the left then right, and adrenaline surged through his body. Two men, two men he didn't know but recognized from the images in his mind, were running down the hall towards his room.
Shocked, Will couldn't comprehend what he was seeing or believing. Will went back to his room, grabbed the cotton sheet from the floor and draped it over his shoulders and pulled his ball cap down low. Hunched over and limping like an old man, he slowly exited the treatment room, making his way towards the front entrance past staff and other patients. He felt the pain from the open wound on his hand.
The two men from his dream ran past Will, turning at the corner and stopping at the reception desk. He continued limping towards the glass doors, glanced backwards at the two men then disappeared outside.
Carl walked past the room where he assisted the doctor, peeked inside and found the room empty. Still wearing his lab coat, he had now been seen by the ER staff for hours, and no one questioned his presence.
As Carl walked past a room, the patient inside called for him. He continued with little regard for the wants of the person inside the room. She called for him again. Carl felt a sense of false responsibility, stopped, leaned back, and looked in.
"Can you help me, doctor?" A large elderly woman was sitting on a commode, her feet dangling inches from the floor, her gown on backwards.
Carl entered the room and stood before her, "I'm not a doctor."
"I don't care if you're a doctor or not. I need off this stupid thing. I've been on here so long; I think it's now a part of my ass now."
Carl stiffed a laugh, smiled coyly and told her he wasn't sure if he knew how to get her off. "I'm not sure if I should be doing this or not. I don't work here."
"You're wearing a lab coat aren't you. You work here. Help me get my ass off this fucking thing."
Carl let out a belly laugh and nodded. He stood close in front of her, put his forearms under her armpits, hugged her and lifted. He hoisted her up, and the commode remained fixed to her backside. He softly let her back down and released his hold.
"Well, you are stuck to this thing." He stood back, hands on his hips and wondered what his next move would be. "How long have you been here?"
"Almost an hour. They forgot about me."
Carl took a different approach, moved around behind her, placed one foot on the metal bar between the wheels, hands under her armpits once again then lifted, his foot holding the commode in place. The commode refused to release its grip on the old lady's buttocks.
Dr. Hernandez went past the room, then returned. She watched as Carl fought to separate the commode from the patient. She quietly walked in, took hold of the lady's hand and pulled. With the sound of suction suddenly losing its grip, she popped off the commode, and her feet landed softly on the floor.
Carl and Dr. Hernandez put the lady back to bed. "Look at you helping out."
"I've no clue what the hell I'm doing. I couldn't just walk by and not help. She's so grandmotherly."
"Grandmotherly? Is that a word?"
Carl shrugged his shoulders, "No clue. But it sounded good."
"What are you doing back down here? I thought you worked in the lab?" "Looking for someone." It wasn't a lie.
"Everyone's looking for someone."
"Really?" Carl was surprised. "Who?" There was excitement in his voice. He stepped in close. "Do you know anything more?"
"The police are all over the ER right now. I heard they went to security to look at the tapes and see if they can find someone."
"Someone? Is there any way to find out who they're looking for?"
"I'm still here you know," the old lady went to sit on the bed, ignored by Carl and Dr. Hernandez.
"They said it's a suspect. Must be someone nasty. I counted at least a dozen uniformed officers and some detectives. They're all over the department right now. Asking everyone for their ID's, checking everyone out."
"Shit." Carl had a concerned look on his face. "You busy right now?" He asked of Dr. Hernandez.
"I was just going on a break. Why? You asking me out?" She smiled at him.
Carl peered outside the room, left then right then back to Dr. Hernandez.
"I sorta need you to help me out."
She stepped back, a sudden look of fright overtook her. "You're the guy they're looking for."
He laughed loudly, "No. I'm looking for the same guy. I don't work here." He realized he had to trust the doctor with his secret. "I'm a reporter. I'm looking for the same guy they are."
"A reporter," she exclaimed. "I let a reporter help me suture a patient." Dr. Hernandez was visibly upset. "I could get into a lot of trouble for what I did. Now you want me to help you?"
The old lady broke into the conversation, "I let a reporter get me off the toilet?"
Carl looked at the lady, "Hey, if I didn't help you off the toilet, you'd still be stuck on it, so shush up." He gave her a nasty look then turned back to the doctor. "I need you to help me find out who they're looking for."
"Why should I help you? Why? One good reason why I should help you?"
Carl looked confused, his eyes darted back and forth, "Shit. Shit. Shit. OK. I can't think of a single reason why you should help me. I just need your help. Please. That's all I got."
She thought about it for a moment, "What do you need? If I'm gonna get in trouble, I'll turn you in."
"I don't have any ID. I need you to take me around the hospital, so I can see if I can find who they're looking for. I want the story before they put this guy away. That's it."
"Where to first?" she asked.
"The security office. Good place as any to start."
Dr. Hernandez shifted from one foot to the other, "Fine." She stepped out of the room, "Follow me."
*****
Nicole sat alone on a cot in a private ER room, the nausea that caused her violent vomiting earlier had disappeared as rapidly as it had come on. She had been seen earlier and assured the nurse; she was feeling much better.
Nicole heard the commotion outside her room, knowing full well what Paul and Dan were doing. The feeling of helplessness and frustration only increased as she sat waiting to hear the results of the search. She had been told to remain in the room until Paul came to get her.
After an hour, she fidgeted about the room, playing with the medical equipment and dressings and texting Simone about work. After repeated texts, the battery indicator on her phone flashed red, Nicole reached into her purse to retrieve her charger and felt the envelope that contained the photographs she had come down to see. She forgot about the charger and instead, pulled the envelope out and held it before her. She held her breath, unable to take her eyes off the package.
Nicole inverted the envelope, about a dozen sheets of paper came into her hand. She felt a sense of relief as all the sheets were face down. She sighed, closed her eyes, flipped the first sheet of paper over, then opened her eyes. Instantaneously, the scene on the paper began to move. The picture showed a close-up of the bruising around Kerry's neck. The photo timeline began to rewind, slowly at first then faster and faster until Kerry was on the ground in the parking lot and Nicole saw the hands around the girl's neck. He squeezed, his fingers dug deep into her neck. Kerry's eyes began to bulge as the pressure increased. Kerry struggled but failed to get her attacker to release his grip. Even without any audio, Nicole could imagine the sounds of the fight, the victim gasping for air.
Nicole hoped that by turning the picture she would get a different vantage point, but she realized it didn't work that way. She spun the sheet of paper around and flipped it over, again, no result. This photo didn't reveal
any new information or clues. She placed the paper on the cot to her side and turned the second one over. This photo depicted the side view of the SUV Kerry hid under. Nicole held the photo up high, focused on the vehicle, then felt the impact of the images flooding her senses in one horrific moment. From the point of the view of the camera, the image reversed in time until she saw Kerry hiding under the truck fighting off her attacker. Kerry flailed and fought for her life against the man reaching under the vehicle, trying to grab hold of her. She saw Kerry bite his hand. The attacker's face was covered by a ball cap; he stood holding his hand. Nicole saw the man's face reflected in the rear-view mirror. She gasped. The man was in pain, the look on his face undeniable. He stared directly into the glass, and she studied his face. In the reflection, the man turned and ran away. The image stopped moving. "I know this man," she said aloud to herself.
*****
In a small, dark room, there was one desk with a bank of monitors along the wall and a lone guard sitting at the controls. Paul and Dan stood behind the security guard as he used the mouse to scroll through the video files.
"Do you even know who you're looking for?" the guard asked without looking up.
"Someone who doesn't belong," Paul offered.
"Someone who doesn't belong. Well, that helps a lot," the guard said sarcastically.
Paul made a motion like he slapped the guard in the back of the head but stopped short before he made contact, "We're looking a male, white, young. Someone who's keeping his head down, most likely wearing a ball cap to help cover his face, he might have a hoodie up over his head too. He most likely has his hands in his pockets. He won't have his phone out. Someone who is looking straight ahead, not looking around like a person should. This guy doesn't want to attract attention but stands out. He won't make eye contact with anyone. The definition of someone who doesn't belong."
"Got it. Oh, and I saw your reflection of you pretending to hit me in the monitor."
Instead of trying to hide what he did, Paul explained his actions, "Next time don't be such a dick, or I won't pretend to hit you. Got it." He used the same words to make his point.
The guard went through the tapes at regular speed, "You realize we have like sixty or seventy cameras throughout the hospital. If we narrow it down to a one-hour time frame, that's still sixty to seventy hours just to get through all the cameras."
"Eliminate the floors, the OR, maintenance and laundry and services. Let's stay focused on the main areas, let's say, the main entrance, ER waiting room, the ER itself, the stairwells." Paul looked at Dan, "If he wanted to come back for whatever reason, let's say it was to finish off the girl upstairs, he would take the stairs, right? Not the elevators?"
"I wouldn't," Dan offered.
"K. Let's look at the stairs and the elevators." He looked to Dan, "Better safe than sorry."
"What do you want first?"
"Wait. You said you have sixty to seventy cameras throughout the hospital. What about outside the hospital looking at the grounds and the doors?"
The guard thought for a moment, "That includes the outside cameras." "Would it help if we look at the public doors instead?" Paul turned to the guard, "Do employees need to swipe in to get into any non-public entrance?"
"Of course."
Paul looked at his partner, "What do you think? Wanna take a chance and look at the footage of everyone coming and going first?"
Dan placed his hand on the guard's shoulder, "Select your best camera, the one that would show the best angle, show the faces if possible of everyone as they come or leave the public doors. Let's start with the main entrance."
The guard cued up the video file of the main entrance for the past hour. He typed in the time stamp, and the video began to play. They watched as people came and went through the large glass doors. No one seemed to match the description that Paul had described.
After several minutes, a knock at the door interrupted them. Dan opened it and saw Nicole standing before him. She had a serious look about her; he motioned for her to enter. Paul turned to see Nicole pressed into a corner in the cramped room. She stood, motionless, hugging herself, her eyes filled with fright.
"What's the matter?"
She shook her head side to side, saying nothing. "What?" he asked again. She motioned Paul to approach. He leaned in close. "What?" he whispered again softly.
Slowly, barely audible, she said, "I know him."
He pulled back, looked deeply into her eyes, Nicole nodded and whispered again, "I know him."
*****
For almost twenty minutes, Carl and the doctor walked about the ER, chatting to one another, as if he belonged. They had been approached by one of the uniformed officers, Dr. Hernandez had been pulled aside to speak with the officer alone. When she returned, she told Carl she had vouched for him. Carl knew he could trust her because if she had told the officer the truth, he would've been escorted out or arrested.
"We checked all the ER rooms and ICU. We would have to go upstairs now, but I'm not sure if it would do any good. We still don't have any clue who we're looking for."
Carl stopped and hung his head low, "You're right. The thing is, I know the guy we're looking for is here, was here, might still be here. With all these cops, if I don't have you with me, I know I'll get stopped. The problem is..." His words were cut short as he felt a hand placed firmly on his shoulder.
Carl turned to see the detective he interviewed at the police station. The detective had a scowl on his face, clenching his jaw. A woman and another detective stood beside him.
"Detective Hampstead, right?" he asked.
"Hammond," he growled. "What are you doing here impersonating a doctor?"
Carl looked at Dr. Hernandez, "It's not a crime to wear a lab coat? Is it?" He looked at the doctor. "Did I say I was a doctor?" She shook her head.
"What are you doing here?" Paul released his grip on Carl's shoulder. "Same as you, I imagine. Looking for the guy who attacked the girl last night."
Paul looked back at Dan, "That was a suspected sexual assault. Not your usual beat is it?"
Carl took a step back, placing some distance between himself and the police. "You might be telling the public that was a sexual assault, I know better."
"Listen, don't be talking about shit you don't know anything about. Right now, we don't even know for sure." Paul was looking upset.
Carl moved in closer to Dr. Hernandez, standing beside her, almost touching shoulder to shoulder, "I can't imagine you know much at all."
Paul laughed, "K. Stay out of our way. Don't do anything stupid but for you, ah, ah," he snapped his fingers trying to remember the reporter's name.
"Kadner, Carl Kadner."
"Kadner, Carl Kadner. Doing stupid shit is a daily occurrence for you, isn't it? And get a new suit. Weren't you wearing that suit when I first had the unpleasant task of meeting you?" Paul smirked and began to walk away.
Carl exhaled forcefully through his nose and shook his head, "Taking fashion advice from a cop."
Dr. Hernandez turned to Carl, "It was nice meeting you, but I have to get back to work. I've got to finish the paperwork on that guy's hand injury we sutured up earlier. He left before we could discharge him."
Nicole turned around and quickly walked back to face the doctor, "Hand injury?" Paul and Dan joined her.
Excited, Paul looked at the doctor, "Can you describe the injury? Who came in with the hand injury?"
"Skinny guy. Polite, very nice man. A little shy. Why?"
Nicole took the doctor by the arm, gently turned her until they faced each other, "Tell me, his arms." She rubbed her sleeves, "Hair, did he have any hair on his arms."
Carl interjected, "None, no hair at all."
"A hand injury? Not a crush or anything like that. But more of a bite?"
Dr. Hernandez replied by simply nodding.
Nicole continued, "Skinny guy, not sickly thin, just thin. Smooth complexion, dark hair, good looking."
"I gues
s. Why?"
Nicole looked at Paul, "It could be him."
Paul took over the conversation, "You treated him?"
"We treated him," Carl added.
"He had a nasty dog bite. I, we, had to suture it closed."
Nicole was excited, "Here. She grabbed the skin between the thumb and index finger. Here. That's where he was hurt."
"How did you know?"
Paul was convinced they were speaking of the same person, "Show me his room."
The five of them walked back down the hall towards the ER. Dr. Hernandez walked into the room and stood at the back, "This is where we sutured his hand."
On the tray were blood-soaked gauze pads, an open package of sutures, a small stainless-steel cup with yellow fluid in it, and an assortment of other surgical tools. "This is his room. For certain?"
Dan knew exactly what Paul was referring to, "I'll get the security tapes to confirm no one else was treated in this room, and we should be able to get a few still images of him entering and leaving the room. I can check the time logs when he left then follow him outside the building. Be nice if we can get him walking to his car and get a tag. Either way, I'm hoping we can get a good pic of him."
Paul pointed at the doctor and Carl, "I'm gonna need statements from both you."
"After my shift. I've got to get back to work."
Carl started to walk away as well, "And I've gotta go track down this guy and write my story."
As Carl turned to walk away, Dan told him quite frankly, "Leave now and I'll put out a warrant for your arrest as a material witness and hold you indefinitely. I'm just saying."
Carl stopped, slowly turned to face the trio and walked back to join them.
*****
The barking dogs greeted Will as he pulled into the driveway. They ran up the fence, tails wagging, jumping up to meet him. The tires slid in the gravel until the car came to a complete stop. He ignored the dogs as he went inside, poured himself a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table.
He went through the events at the hospital. Having only the one hospital in the county, he had no choice where to go. Travelling to another hospital certainly, would've raised suspicion. What was more disconcerting were the images that ran through his mind, strange images that he couldn't explain or even hope to understand. He rested his head in his uninjured hand. Looking down, he saw the bleeding had finally stopped, but the skin had torn where the suture pulled through.