by ID Johnson
"Where are you staying?" Cadence asked, motioning the rest of the team to start walking towards the car. She could see the last of their bags being placed in the trunk and the driver closing the lid and felt they may as well load up.
"The Cornhusker," Taylor replied. "Do you need one of us to pick you up?"
Cadence slid into the backseat of the town car, along with Hannah and Eliza while Elliott climbed in front. "No, we have a car." The driver got in as well, starting the engine while he put on his seatbelt. Cadence momentarily wondered if he had any idea exactly who, or what, he would be driving today. "Do you know where The Cornhusker Hotel is?" she asked him, pulling the phone down from her mouth.
The driver nodded that he knew the hotel and pointed the car towards the exit.
"We are headed that way," Cadence said back to her friend.
Taylor sighed loud enough for Cadence to hear over the phone. "Good," she replied. "We can't wait to see you."
"I can't wait to see you guys either," Cadence admitted. "Be there in a bit." She slid her phone back into her pocket and took another deep breath, hoping the ride to the hotel would be a short one. She was comforted by Hannah's hand on her arm and temporarily wondered what she might be feeling like if Hannah was not adjusting her emotions.
That thought made her realize she still hadn't heard back from Aaron. Turning to Eliza she said, "Do you know how Aaron is?"
Eliza seemed surprised, assuming the next thing out of Cadence's mouth would have something to do with Jack or one of her other friends. "I don't think he's awake yet," she replied.
Cadence was confused. Aaron rarely slept, though he had done so on the flight back from Paris. Still, she felt there must be something she didn't know. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Didn't you talk to him after we left the airport?" Eliza asked. Seeing the expression on Cadence's face, she realized she hadn't and continued. "Jamie had to go back in and do some additional healing. They decided it would be better if they sedated him so that Jamie could concentrate on his internal wounds. So, I don't think he's awake from that yet."
Cadence nodded, embarrassed that she hadn't even asked about Aaron when she saw him get off of the plane in such a state, and anxious that everything had not gone as planned. Of course, Hannah's hand on her arm was a constant reminder that her emotions were not solely hers just now, and she tried not to be too hard on herself considering the circumstances.
"I'm sorry," Eliza continued. "I would have told you. I just assumed you would have been talking to him, too."
"I . . . forgot," Cadence admitted, her eyes drifting away slowly. A snicker from the front seat caught her attention, and she glared at the back of Elliott's head. "I'm sorry," she continued sharply. "I guess I've been a bit distracted, what with the death of my ex-boyfriend."
"Guess so," he replied curtly, not wanting to draw her into an argument but still apparently entertaining the notion that, perhaps, Cadence didn't care for Aaron quite as much as the Leader thought she did.
Cadence chose to ignore him, for now. She was keenly aware of the fact that Elliott thought she was a distraction, and he would prefer for Aaron to completely put her out of his mind. In fact, Elliott wanted her off of the team entirely. She knew there was little possibility of Elliott becoming her best buddy on this trip, but she also had neither the time or energy it would take to argue with him, so she resolved to put him out of her mind.
They sat in silence for the remainder of the trip. When the car pulled up in front of The Cornhusker Hotel, the snow was coming down even harder. The building was decorated with red and gold ribbons and lights; one of the few reminders Cadence had seen that it was almost Christmas. She had to press thoughts of the most joyous time of the year out of her head, however, as the driver opened the door, waiting for Hannah to slide out.
"I'll go on to the other hotel," Eliza said, as Cadence slid past her to get out of the car. "We are staying at the Embassy Suites. I'll see you guys when you get back. Good luck, Cadence," she said, squeezing her friend's arm gently.
Cadence smiled in thanks and joined Hannah and Elliott on the sidewalk, glancing up at the building and collecting her thoughts. "Okay, let's go," she said, following Elliott through the door.
Taylor had sent a text earlier to let her know what room they were in, and as the elevator neared the appropriate floor, the lump in Cadence's throat grew larger and larger until she felt that she couldn't even swallow. When the doors opened, she hesitated, and Hannah took her by the arm and pulled her gently along, her feet like lead.
It was Jack's dad, Steve, who opened the door. "Cadence!" he declared, opening his arms and embracing her tightly. It was evident by the look in his weary eyes that he had been crying recently, and as he embraced the girl his late son had loved so much, he began to weep.
Despite Cadence's access to Hannah, being in the presence of so many grieving friends and family members brought tears to her eyes as well. As the friends greeted each other and hugged, the tears flowed freely from all of them, and the fact that their numbers had dwindled in the last few weeks was evident. Taylor and Sydney were there, as was Kash and his best friend Jon. And that was it. All that was left of their circle of friends, which used to number seven.
"Cadence," Alice, Jack's mom, said as she released her from a tight embrace, "We're so glad you are finally here. We know how very much you meant to Jack."
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here," Cadence replied, taking both of Alice's hands in hers.
"I know," she confirmed, squeezing Cadence's hand gently. "I know. It's okay."
Cadence wasn't sure that she believed that, but she did recognize the fact that there was nothing she could do about it now. "This is my friend Hannah," she said, introducing the tall blond to the shorter brunette and the rest of the group. "And I think some of you have met Elliott."
Pleasantries were exchanged, and both Hannah and Elliott stated how sorry they were that Jack was no longer with them. There were several seats in the small living area of the suite, and Alice motioned for Cadence and the rest of the party to sit, which they did. Cadence hesitated to ask any questions at all, not wanting to make anyone relive their experiences of the past few days. Besides, Taylor's messages had given a pretty clear description of what had transpired. There was just one issue she was unclear on. Where exactly was Jack now? She wasn't sure how to broach the subject so she waited, hopeful that the topic would come up without having to ask. She still wasn't clear that she had understood what Taylor was trying to tell her during their conversation before she had left Kansas City. Was Jack actually gone, and if so, how was that possible?
Cadence was sitting on the couch between Sydney and Taylor. Sydney had her head resting on Cadence's shoulder, as if she had finally exhausted, and Cadence was the only one who could revive her. Cadence attempted to focus on the conversation going on around her, though she was having trouble. They were rehashing the events of Jack's last few days, for her benefit, but she didn't necessarily want to hear all of it. For some reason, everyone seemed to think that she would be glad to know that he had been asking for her. However, that just made her feel guilty for not being there, and so she made an attempt to tune them out.
A vibration in her pocket caught her attention, and she pulled her phone out, realizing suddenly that her parents may have no idea that she was in Lincoln. She had sent them a text when she left Paris, but that was it, and though she knew they were part of the extensive network of Hunters and Guardians who shared information, she wasn't sure exactly what they knew. Glancing down, she saw that it was her mom and she said simply, "Glad you're back, honey. We love you. Call us when you get a chance." She wasn't sure who had informed her parents, especially since Aaron was at least temporarily out of commission, but she was glad they knew. She didn't want to be rude, so she slid the phone back into her pocket, saying, "Sorry. That was my mom."
Alice had been talking about how Jack had woken up long enough to eat some Jell-O just a few n
ights ago, and paused briefly in her story to nod an acknowledgement that she understood that Cadence needed to check in with her own parents before she continued. Again, Cadence partially tuned in but couldn't stay focused on what Jack's mom was saying. Her mind was bouncing to memories of times she had spent with Jack, thoughts of Drew, and a mixture of snapshots of all that had transpired these last few days.
She realized that Taylor was asking her a question."Don't you think, Cadence?" she asked again.
Of course, Cadence had no idea what she had been asking. The puzzled expression on her face gave her away only to her teammates. "She said 'it seems odd that the hospital hasn't called yet, don't you think Cadence,'" Elliott interjected through the IAC. Then he added, "What the hell is she talking about??"
"Thanks," Cadence responded before replying to Taylor. "About that," she said, turning to her friend. "I'm not sure I understand exactly what you meant. Did you say, the hospital can't find him?" Her words ignited an explosion on the IAC from her teammates, who clearly saw this bit of information as pertinent, though; Cadence was under the belief that there had simply been some sort of mix up at the hospital.
It wasn't Taylor who answered, however, it was Steve. "They said they are pretty sure he was just accidentally moved to a different part of the morgue," he began. "They were hoping to perform an autopsy to see if they could tell exactly what this disease was. They are concerned that it could be something infectious. But, since none of us are sick, you're not sick, and his roommate, Byron, isn't sick, they are not too concerned. Nevertheless, when they returned to do the autopsy, Jack's body wasn't where they thought it should be. They said they would call us as soon as it was located so that we could contact the funeral home and begin making arrangements."
"But, that was this morning," Taylor argued. "Shouldn't they have found him by now? After all, it's nearly 5:00."
Cadence didn't really have an opinion, considering she had no idea how large the morgue beneath the hospital might be, nor did she know the protocol for storing bodies. Since she declined to answer, the rest of her friends chimed in with their opinions, and she refocused her attention to the IAC.
"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Elliott demanded, followed shortly by, "Does Aaron know this?"
"Calm down," Hannah had advised, though, she could tell by Elliott's reaction that she had not forced him to do so. "Don't jump to conclusions."
"Dammit, Cadence. You've gotta let us know this shit," Elliott had replied, clearly not listening to Hannah.
"Elliott," Hannah warned, "Let's just give this some time."
The conversation had stopped coming through to Cadence at that point, though it appeared to her as if Elliott and Hannah were continuing the discussion. She felt very confused, not sure why Elliott was so upset that the hospital had lost Jack's body. She felt fairly confident that it was just a mistake, and they would find him soon.
***
Jack's preferred hang-out was a bar named Duffy's, which was a favorite amongst the college crowd. Though he would have loved to have stopped by and had a drink with some friends, he didn't feel it was safe, for some reason, to do so. Instead, he made his way on foot across town and found a lesser populated, hole-in-the-wall where the older crowd hung out. It was a bit early, but the place was open, so Jack wondered in, hoping that alcohol would have the same affect on this sensation in his throat as the blood he had consumed earlier.
The bartender seemed disinterested in Jack as he approached the counter in the dim light. He ordered a Bud and found a booth in the back, hopeful to have the opportunity to quench his thirst and regain his thoughts. He drank deeply, feeling the liquid slide down his throat. Though the cool drink felt refreshing against the burn, it did nothing to contain it, and he plunked the glass back down on the table, realizing that, unfortunately, he would have to find something else to keep the fire in his throat from overwhelming him. The thought of what that drink had to be was incomprehensible to him, and he held his head in his hands, wondering how in the world he was going to go on existing in this state. The idea of drinking blood should have sickened him, yet he found its pull intoxicating, a thought that both excited and disgusted him.
A noise from across the table caught his attention, and he looked up to see a slender young man sliding into the seat across from him. "I'd like to be alone," Jack said, amazed that someone would join him without asking, particularly in a practically empty bar.
"Would you now?" the uninvited guest replied, his Italian accent thick, as if he had just gotten off of a plane. "I really don't think that's true," he continued. He had short blond hair, which matched his pencil thin moustache and goatee. He seemed to be just a bit older than Jack and had an attractive, if not particularly striking, face. There was one feature that Jack noticed almost immediately, however, even in the dim light. His eyes were steel gray.
"Name's Giovani," the man said, offering him his hand. Jack took it, shaking cautiously. He couldn't help but be suspicious of any stranger who would approach him in a bar, particularly on this side of town.
"What do you want?" Jack asked, wondering if, perhaps, he had wondered into a gay bar without realizing. Looking around at the few other patrons, he didn't think that was the case, but he couldn't be sure.
"It's not what I want," Giovani replied jovially. "It's what you want and what I can help you get."
Again, Jack's suspicions grew. He paused for a moment to study this character before responding. "I'm not quite sure I know what you mean," he admitted.
Giovani chuckled. "Of course you do," he said quietly, leaning toward Jack. "That burning in the back of your throat? I know what you want, my friend. And I know how to help you get it."
Jack absently cleared his throat, not sure exactly how this man could know that information. Before he could reply, however, Giovani was speaking again. "Listen, Jack," he said, resting his elbows on the table and making a triangle with his hands, his chin resting on the tips of his fingers. "I've been sent here to help you. You can trust me."
"How do you know my name?" Jack asked, peering as deeply into those eyes as he dared.
Again, Giovani let out a small laugh. "Because, your mother told me," he replied. "She's the one who sent me."
"My mother?" Jack said, confused. "Why would Alice send you to help me?"
"Not that mother," Giovani said, reaching across the table and hitting him gently on the shoulder, as if they were old friends. "Your other mother. Holland."
***
Dr. Jay Arnold had been practicing medicine for almost half a century. In that time, he had seen some unusual occurrences. He had seen all types of accidents, injuries, and illnesses. He had never seen anyone present with symptoms like Jack Cook's. Likewise, over the years, he and his associates had lost a fair share of items. They had misplaced utensils, machinery, possibly even body parties. They had never, not once, lost an entire body. Until now.
As the Chief of Staff, it was ultimately up to Dr. Arnold to solve whatever problems his staff brought to him. When he had been notified earlier that day that the body of a patient, one Jack Cook, a young man whose case Dr. Arnold was familiar with, and had actually treated, was missing, he had initially thought that it had to be a simple error. While the doctors who worked in the morgue assured him they had searched everywhere for Mr. Cook and had come up empty handed, he was certain that, if they looked harder and longer, they would find him. He had spoken personally to the parents, Steve and Alice Cook, who were wanting the autopsy completed as quickly as possible so that they could begin to make funeral arrangements, explaining to them that there had been a slight mishap and that they would locate Jack very soon. That had been hours ago and now, at half-past five, Jack still had not shown up, and they were running out of time before they would be forced to give further explanation to the family.
Dr. Adam Doss, Chief Medical Examiner, met Dr. Arnold outside of the morgue. "Anything?" Arnold asked, hopeful despite the defeated look on his colleague's
face.
"No," Dr. Doss replied. "We've looked everywhere, Dr. Arnold. It's as if he just. . . got up and walked away."
Dr. Arnold looked at the slightly-younger man sternly. "Well, Dr. Doss, I'm quite certain that, that is not what happened," he replied pushing open the door to the morgue. He had determined that, if his staff was unable to locate the body by themselves, he would have to come and look for Mr. Cook himself.
Stepping into the dimly lit room, the smell of recent death wafted into Dr. Arnold's lungs, along with other morbid, yet familiar scents, such as formaldehyde and blood. He surveyed the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary, and saw nothing. He approached the body nearest the door, certain that his staff had already checked these bodies to make sure that none of them were Jack Cook, yet hopeful that his staff was truly just incompetent, and he would be able to locate the corpse in plain sight.
"There's something else," Dr. Doss said, hesitantly, as he followed Dr. Arnold across the room.
Dr. Arnold pulled the first sheet back, revealing a recently deceased cancer patient, Mrs. Fitzhugh. She certainly wasn't Mr. Cook. "What's that?" he asked, crossing the room to the next body. Before he could pull the sheet back, Dr. Doss put his hand on top of Dr. Arnold's, holding the sheet in place.
"This is the body of Mr. Clark Wester," he began, "the car accident victim who was brought in late yesterday evening."
"Yes, I'm familiar," Dr. Arnold replied. "I still want to see for myself," he insisted, assuming that Dr. Doss simply didn't want him to waste his time checking a body he had already examined.
"Of course, sir," Dr. Doss agreed without removing his hand. "However, something unusual has happened with Mr. Wester's body as well."
Dr. Arnold could plainly see that Mr. Wester was not missing, so he was truly puzzled. "Remove your hand, Dr. Doss," he ordered sternly. Dr. Doss did as he was instructed, and Dr. Arnold pulled the sheet back revealing the pale white face of Clark Wester, the gapping hole in his chest just as Dr. Arnold had remembered, with only one slight addition of some sort of strange marking on his skin above his heart, and apparently, the reduction of every drop of blood from his entire body. "What in God's name?" Dr. Arnold proclaimed, unable to believe his very eyes.