THE AWAKENING [Part 1]

by Michael Timmins

  He was so engrossed in his musings he didn’t notice the door to his room open and someone enter. A woman coughed to get his attention. His first thought was she must be a nurse or something, but then he saw the name badge clipped to her coat, it read Dr. Sarah Yagel. She was an attractive woman, to say the least, but she didn’t look old enough to be a doctor. He guessed her age at no more that twenty-eight. She had auburn hair that parted in the middle and laid down on either side of her head making her face appear longer because of it. Her features were soft and she looked quiet and unassuming. He could make out the curves of her body under her coat and her figure was a fine hourglass in shape. A thought crossed his mind and he wondered if he could convince her he needed a sponge bath.

  Finally, he noticed her curious stare. His walls went up. She held a clipboard in her hands, but she looked like she was carrying it to look busy, not that it held any important information. He figured out why she was here, and he did not appreciate the way she stared at him as if he was some lab rat.

  The one thing he remembered his father telling him, repeatedly, was to stay away from hospitals. It had seemed weird to him at five years old for his father to tell him that adamantly. Now he understood the why after the accident when the hospital realized his ability to heal quickly. They poked and prodded him and ran all sorts of tests. It wasn’t till child services came and demanded he be released did the hospital stop the tests. He remembered there was a criminal investigation into what they did to him, but that was swept under the rug. The one thing that always bothered him, was how his father knew about his ability? He couldn’t remember ever being hurt before then, so how did his father know enough to warn him?

  Sarah studied the guy for a minute before letting him know she was there. He was a rough looking individual, but handsome. She couldn’t really make out his body under the hospital gown but judging from the looks of his arms he was well built. His face was angular in shape with a nose that was not overly large but pronounced. His chin was almost square with rounded edges and his lips were thin but not invisible. Brown unruly hair, which was always her weakness, topped his head. When she coughed and he turned to her, her heart skipped a beat. His eyes almost shined and seemed to pierce through her. She watched him take her in. She saw the spark of interest in his eyes as they wandered her body as men’s eyes always seem to do. She also saw the light go out in the eyes, the sudden coldness in his look as he turned back to the TV. She had never seen anyone go from obvious interest to total dismissal that quickly. He must really dislike doctors, she thought. She almost turned and walked out right then… almost.

  “Clint Wallace?” she asked as she moved closer to his bed. She pretended to look down at her clipboard and study it, even though there was nothing on it. He grunted, which she took for a yes. She tucked the clipboard under her arm.

  “I am Dr. Sarah Yagel. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”

  “Nope,” Clint responded and turned up the volume a bit on the TV.

  “Look, it’s really important…”

  “I’m sure it is, to you. However, it isn’t to me.” He turned towards her and gave her a very vicious look. “So, if you don’t mind, I’m watching TV.” He turned back to the TV, dismissing her.

  Sarah stood there for a moment, her mouth working silently. This guy was an asshole. She decided on a different approach.

  “Mr. Wallace. I ran some tests on your blood. Are you aware you have a startling number of pluripotent cells in your blood stream?”

  “Yes.” He lied. So, that is what it was? Pluripotent cells, eh? That was what allowed him to heal? Of course, he had no idea what pluripotent cells were. But, he was going to find out.

  Sarah’s mouth worked soundlessly again. She closed her mouth and frowned. She saw the look in his eyes. The way they worked back and forth as if he was trying to figure something out. Of course! He had no idea what she was talking about, but he did know they did something to him. She walked around to the end of his bed and picked up his chart. She glanced over it and saw he had broken his leg and had suffered from a laceration to his forehead. She bit her lower lip and moved back over to his side. He followed her movements with his eyes, although he tried to hide the fact he did so. She looked at the bandage taped to his forehead. She reached and touched it tenderly and watched his face. He didn’t react till he saw she was watching him. He winced. Bad acting, she thought, and with that, she reached up and caught the corner of the tape with her fingernail and thumb. She yanked, hard.

  “Ow! What the fuck lady?” Clint reached his hand up to cover his forehead, but she beat him there and blocked his hand as she bent down to examine his wound he knew was no longer there.

  “Amazing... You had a two-inch laceration on your forehead. Now, you have nothing. It is completely healed. You don’t even have a scar.” She looked down at his face. He avoided her eyes. “Is your leg also healed?”

  Clint moved her hand away from his forehead.

  “Look, lady, the cut wasn’t as bad as they said. It was minor. I don’t know why they made such a big deal about it.”

  “They put eight stitches in it!”

  “Well, it wasn’t bad. It healed up already. So what? But if you don’t stop harassing me I am going to summon the nurse.” He saw her flinch at that. Ah… so she wasn’t supposed to be in here. That meant nobody else probably knew about his “ability.”

  He turned and grabbed the call button and looked back at her. He could see her eyes locked on the button he held, and the worry in her eyes.

  “Look. Sarah. Why don’t we forget about this altogether, okay? I won’t mention you came in here and abused me and you won’t mention what you found in my blood, alright?” Her eyes slowly moved back to his and she nodded, slowly. She turned to move away. “Sarah?”

  “Yeah?” She turned back to him.

  “You forgetting something?” When she didn’t comprehend right away, he pointed to his forehead. She realized she was still holding his bandage. She smiled shyly, moved back to him, reattached the bandage, and with that, she turned and left. As she moved down the hall towards the lab she was determined to see him again tomorrow and try to convince him to let her run some tests. She would just have to be a little less pushy.

  Clint closed his eyes for a moment. Pluripotent cells. He had often wondered what made him heal. Now he knew. Well sort-of. He had no idea what they were. But apparently, it wasn’t normal for someone to have a lot of them. He glanced about the room. He saw the closet was empty. They must have had to cut his jeans off him to get at his leg. He didn’t know what he was going to wear. He just knew it was time to go. He reached down and touched his leg where the bone had pushed through his skin. He could feel the warmth he associated with his healing process fading. He hoped it meant his leg was healed enough for him to walk. He touched it, gently at first, and felt no pain. He pressed harder — still nothing. He smiled. Boy, is she going to be pissed when she comes back and finds me gone. He knew she would be back, she had looked entirely too determined when she came in to be dissuaded so easily. He unstrapped his splint and brought his knee up to his chest. He stretched his leg experimentally, feeling no pain other than the blood rushing back into his once immobile limb. He removed the bandage from his forehead and got out of bed.

  Clint walked to the bathroom and flicked the switch to the lights. He admired the fact only a few hours ago, his femur was protruding from his thigh and now he was walking around. He washed his face and his hands. He looked refreshed, which he started to realize he always seemed to look awake and refreshed. He never got bags under his eyes when he hadn’t slept much, nor did his face droop from tiredness. He started to understand it was all part of the same thing, his healing. After all, when people get bags under their eyes, it is almost like bruising. He never got minor bruises, and major ones went away quickly.

  With no clothes in the closet, this was a tricky situation. He opened the door to his room. The hall was empty. There wa
s a laundry bag across the hall with dirty clothes. He saw a lab coat and a pair of baggy scrubs. Clint grabbed them. He got dressed and then took one parting look at his hospital room before slowly opening his door a crack again. He knew it was late at night and figured there wouldn’t be too many people on duty. A quick check showed the hall to still be empty. He stepped out.

  He hoped he could be able to make his escape. After all, nobody would realize it was him leaving. How could they? He appeared like hospital staff. Besides, the last time they saw him, he was lying in a bed with his leg in a splint, and certainly wasn’t going anywhere. He saw that nobody was at the nurse’s station and quickly made for the stairs.

  Sarah was pissed, but also elated. Pissed because her money ticket had left the hospital somehow. How he had done so was a mystery to all. Well, all but her. Which was why she was also elated. He had walked out of the hospital. The bastard had gotten up and somehow, even though he shouldn’t have been able to walk for at least another week or so, and only then with crutches, he had done so, which pretty much proved her theory. In about five hours after he broke his leg in a car accident, he left the hospital as if nothing had happened.

  She left the file room with his address. If he thought she was going to give up that easily, he was going to be in for a big surprise.

  The next few days Clint played it low-key. He didn’t leave his apartment and didn’t go to work. Work had been notified about his accident, so they weren’t expecting him back anytime soon. He tried to make it seem like he wasn’t even home, which is why it came as a surprise when there was a knock on his door.

  Earlier, he had pizza delivered. Of course, he had waited till the diner was closed so no one would see. Now, he wondered if someone was at the diner when the pizza guy showed up. If so, he would have some explaining to do. But he didn’t have a choice; he was out of food and was getting really hungry. He wondered if he should just wait to see if they left. The knock came again, louder this time.

  “Clint? Open the door. I know you are in there. I saw the pizza man come and go.” He didn’t recognize the female’s voice outside the door. He silently cursed himself for getting careless and letting someone know he was there. He waited some more, not sure what to do. He could leave through the window he supposed.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I know you are in there and I’m not leaving till you open the door.”

  Who the hell was it, he wondered? Well, there was only one way to find out. He crossed the room to the door and opened it. Standing there with her fist raised to beat on the door another time stood the doctor from the hospital. Doctor Sarah as he recalled. Damn, she must have read his file and found out where he lived. He made to shut the door on her and she quickly ducked into his apartment.

  “For Pete’s sake, lady. First, you accost me at the hospital and now you come to my home. This is bordering on harassment. Hell, it isn’t bordering… it is harassment.”

  “So much for being less pushy,” Sarah muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Sarah looked at Clint. His hair was still unruly and he still had those penetrating eyes she remembered. He was wearing loose fitting sweats and a Chicago Blackhawk’s t-shirt. And he was standing there… on both legs… walking around. Even though she knew what to expect, it still amazed her. He caught her scrutinizing his leg and walked out of the room, leaving her there.

  She stood in a small room, which housed a recliner, a side table and a TV on a stand. An almost empty pizza box and an open pop can sat on the side table. Otherwise, the room was empty. It wasn’t messy like she figured it would be. It was clean and straightened up. She followed where Clint went and found him in the kitchen, grabbing another pop.

  “I would offer you a drink, but since you are leaving, that won’t be necessary.” Clint informed her.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “You want to try that again?” He took a step towards her. “Look, lady, you don’t know a thing about me. I could be dangerous. I could be a psycho. But, the one thing I do know is that you were not invited into my apartment, and as such, I have every right to remove you.” He flexed his muscles. “In any way, I see fit.”

  She quickly took a step back and held up her hands to ward him off.

  “I’m sorry. Let me try this again,” she began. “I didn’t want to be this way again with you. I don’t want to be this pushy, but you leave me with very little in the way of options. I can understand you want your privacy. I can appreciate that. But, you must understand what you can do, what you have in your blood… it’s well… amazing.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Clint walked past her and into his living room. He crossed the room to the door and opened it.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, could you please just leave?”

  Sarah followed him, but remained at the opposite end of the room.

  “Please don’t play dumb with me; you don’t do it very well. You had a compound fracture. Your femur was protruding from your thigh. The doctors set the bone and splinted your leg. You shouldn’t be walking for at least a week or two, and yet, here you are, back in your apartment, walking around as if your leg was never broken. That is impossible, or should be. I’m guessing you could probably go and run the mile if you wanted to.” She gave him a sardonic smile. “I don’t want to bother you, but what you are able to do could be of immense help to others who are similarly wounded or even worse, if you would just let me run some tests?”

  “No!”

  His vehemence surprised her, though it probably shouldn’t have. She had done some digging into his medical records and found he had been in a similar accident when he was five. Back then, he suffered from a broken collarbone, but worse, he lost his parents in the accident.

  What followed was a little difficult to find, she had to do some serious digging. But perseverance paid off and she was able to piece together the history. It appeared his wounds healed as before, remarkably quick. They were confounded by his swift recovery. When the doctors discovered he had no surviving relatives, and there would be no one to protest, the doctors began running all sorts of tests on him. What they did to him, she could only guess. It wasn’t till child services filed an injunction against the hospital that he was removed and put into foster care. There was the usual cover-up, doctors fired, all the results of the tests apparently destroyed, and the lawyers took care of the rest. As far as most people were concerned, nothing had happened.

  Her face softened. “I can’t imagine what those doctors did to you.”

  That got his attention. He looked at her, his eyes filled with pain and fury. She almost lost her nerve and ran from the room after seeing that look.

  “But, umm…” she cleared her throat and looked away. “They did all of that without your permission. I am asking, no, I am begging you to allow me to run some tests.” She saw him about to protest again and rushed through the next part. “We won’t do anything you don’t want and if you say no more, then… no more. Just, please, you could help so many people.” Including me, she thought.

  She saw the fury leave his eyes and he made as if to close the door, but suddenly stopped. She saw a new emotion enter those eyes... Fear?

  “You need to leave. You need to leave right now.” He crossed the room and grabbed her arm.

  “You haven’t answered me,” she replied as she pulled her arm out of his grasp.

  “You have to go.” He looked desperate now. What the hell was going on she wondered? She thought for sure he had been about to agree.

  “I’m not leaving till you tell me what is going on. What is the matter, why are you suddenly afraid?”

  “Fine. If you aren’t going to leave, then I am.” He turned and bolted out the door. Sarah stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. She finally ran after him.

  Clint ran down the stairs and out the door at the bottom. The feeling had creeped up on him. He needed Sarah out of his apartment. At first, he thought it was because he did
n’t want her there. Then he realized why he was desperate for her to leave. He was going to black out soon. He needed her gone, or she would end up like those dogs and cats. Stubbornly, she wouldn’t leave. She had no idea what kind of danger she was in. He certainly couldn’t explain it to her. After all, he didn’t understand it himself.

  He ran down the street, hearing Sarah call after him. She tried to follow him. He increased his speed and ran across a street and into a back yard.

  Sarah had no idea what was going on. It was like he was running from something. Like something was chasing him. She had to know what was going on so she followed after him. There was no one out this late at night and the full moon made it easy to see. Still, he was fast and she quickly lost sight of him after following him into somebody’s back yard. An occasional sound alerted her to his whereabouts and she followed as best as she could.

  Clint kept running. He could still hear her after him. He ran hard, but going around fences and ducking in and out of yards slowed him down. His face hurt as if the bones in his jaw were breaking. His hands pained him. He looked at them. They looked strange in the moonlight. His eyes must be playing tricks on him because it looked as if the bones were moving beneath his skin. They looked to be getting longer. The pain increased. Shooting pain encompassed his body. It seemed as if bones all over his body were breaking apart and moving. Spotting a shed in a backyard he went to it and yanked it open. The padlock securing the door, snapped and fell to the dirt. He moved into the darkness of the shed. Then Clint blacked out.