by Ron Ripley
Francis nodded.
Abbot Gregory stood up. “I have a set of rings here, in my quarters. I will bring the box down to you, and you can find a pair which fit.”
“A pair of them?” Francis asked.
The abbot nodded. “One for each hand. It is best to be prepared, should you lose your weapons.”
Francis watched the man leave the room, and thought, Everything would help.
Every. Last. Bit.
He loaded the drum magazine and waited for Abbot Gregory to return.
Chapter 49: Visiting Doc
When the elevator doors opened onto E Ward, Shane felt uncomfortable. An unpleasantness hung in the air, and it was cold. Terribly so. Shane stepped out onto the floor, hesitated and waited to see if anything would happen.
The woman at the nurse’s station smiled politely at him. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I’m here to see Doc.”
“He’s in his room,” she said. “Do you know the way?”
“I do,” Shane said. He turned and headed for Doc’s room, nodding ‘hello’ to the few men he passed. Doc’s door was open, and Shane paused long enough to rap on the doorframe and wait for Doc’s reply.
“Come in,” Doc said, looking up from his bed. He smiled wanly at Shane. “How are you?”
“Alright,” Shane answered. “How are you holding up?”
Doc shrugged. “Little bit upset. Wish I knew why the hell Brett was shot.”
“You don’t think it had anything to do with the Nurse?” Shane asked, surprised.
“Part of me does,” Doc said. “But then I wonder why someone would go so far as to shoot him. I don’t know. I’m tired. They’ve got me on a new round of medication they think might help.”
“Might?”
Doc nodded. “Might’s better than not at all.”
“True,” Shane said.
“So, you back for your skin graft?” Doc said.
“Yeah. Tonight, as long as I make it through all the tests,” Shane told him.
“Have you been drinking?” Doc asked.
“Of course,” Shane said.
The younger man sighed. “They probably won’t want to do it. Did you fast at least?”
“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. “I’m doing it now. Surgery isn’t scheduled until six.”
“Tomorrow morning?” Doc asked.
“Tonight,” Shane answered.
“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Doc said softly. He looked at the door, and then back to Shane. “You need to watch yourself.”
“I will,” Shane said.
“I’m serious,” Doc said earnestly. “They never do surgeries after four, not unless it's an emergency, and I figure yours isn’t.”
“Not life or death, no,” Shane said.
“Then why are you here?” Doc asked, confused. “I’m being serious, Shane. Brett was shot. Murdered. Not by a ghost, but by a person. Why risk it at all?”
“I’m hoping to get someone to try something,” Shane said. “That way, I can find out where the Nurse is buried.”
“Can’t you just look it up?” Doc asked.
“I tried,” Shane said. “All I found was an obituary, and all it said was she had died at Sanford. Nothing else. It’s like someone went in and stripped the information off the web.”
“So you’re putting yourself out there as bait?” Doc said.
“Yes.”
“Still?” Doc asked. “After what happened to Brett?”
“Especially because of what happened to Brett,” Shane said grimly. “Listen, Doc, whoever it was who killed Brett is obviously okay with what the Nurse is doing. I’m not. In order to prevent any more deaths like Brett’s from occurring, I have to get rid of the Nurse. The only way to do that is to salt and burn her bones. Which is what I’m going to do.”
Doc shook his head. “Well, be careful, okay?”
“I will be,” Shane said, standing up to leave.
“What ward are you on?” Doc asked suddenly.
“D Ward,” Shane replied. “Going to come and visit me after my surgery?”
“Yeah,” Doc said. “Figure I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Shane said. He left the dying man’s room and went in search of his own.
Chapter 50: Ready to Leave
Matias had eventually eaten his breakfast, and then his lunch. He would need his strength for whatever was to come.
Mark had returned for the tray, smiled at him with fanaticism, and left the room.
When the man exited, Matias listened carefully. The door clicked shut, but it remained unlocked.
Matias took a deep breath and laid back against his pillows. He stared at the ceiling.
Will you be able to do this? he asked himself. Can you?
Better to die trying, than to wait for it, he answered.
Matias took the blankets and sheet and cast them off. He looked down at his legs, wasted sticks existing where pillars of strength had once been.
Useless, he thought bitterly. But you’re not. Forget them. Carry on.
Grabbing hold of the side rail, Matias carefully eased himself out of the bed. The effort was agonizing, his arms screaming, stomach clenching. Finally, he reached the floor, and when he did so, he lay upon it for a long time. It was cold beneath him, but he didn’t care.
He realized he had wet himself with the effort, and Matias didn’t care about that either. Pressing his hands flat against the floor, Matias pushed himself up. He managed to sit and rest his back against his bed.
I need to get to the door. Beyond the door was the plastic foyer, and after that barrier, the hallway.
Maybe I’ll have a heart attack and die before I ever reach it, Matias thought. Then I won’t have to worry about what to do next.
Maybe, he thought scornfully. And maybe the cavalry will come to my rescue.
Matias pushed all of the thoughts to the back of his mind as he carefully lay back down on the floor. Fixing his gaze upon the door, he began to drag himself forward.
Chapter 51: Getting Prepped for Surgery
Shane wore the uncomfortable hospital smock reluctantly. Soon, he knew, they would come in and begin the blood work and conduct the various other tests which let them know if he really was ready for the surgery.
I’ll probably get an earful for all the alcohol in my system, he thought. Oh well.
He straightened up in the bed and felt the dog tags slide across his chest. Shane smiled, reached up and held them. It was a comfort to feel them, and to know that somewhere, somehow, Courtney was with him.
He picked up the remote, tried to turn on the television and found it didn’t work. Shane rolled his eyes and thought, Typical.
He tried several more times, then he pressed the call button for the nurse. A moment later, a young woman entered and smiled at him.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“The television’s shot,” Shane explained. “Do you have a book or magazine I can look at? Even a paper?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling. “I’m sure we can find something.”
“Thanks,” he said and watched as she left the room.
Several minutes passed and the nurse didn’t return. Instead, the room grew colder. The light of the bed lamp weakened, flickered, and went out, leaving Shane in semi-darkness.
He twisted in his bed, slipped a hand under his pillow and pulled out the knuckledusters. Quietly Shane slipped them on, felt the strength of the cold iron against his flesh, and waited.
A moment later, Jacob entered the room.
“You’ve returned to us,” Jacob said.
“Had to,” Shane responded. “I’d rather not be here.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Jacob assured him. “Tell me, why are you here?”
“Surgery,” Shane explained.
Jacob frowned. “And will you leave our Nurse alone when you are done?”
“No
t a chance in Hell,” Shane said.
“It will cost you your life,” the dead man said after a minute of silence.
“It could,” Shane agreed.
“Your determination is foolish,” Jacob said, anger creeping into his voice.
“Usually is,” Shane said.
“Then leave,” Jacob urged. “Go. Find another facility for your operation. We will let you go in peace.”
“Can’t,” Shane said.
“Can’t or won’t?” the old man asked.
“Either. Maybe both,” Shane said, shrugging. “The point of the matter is this, I’m going to destroy the Nurse, then no one else will have to worry about being killed before their time.”
“You don’t understand anything,” Jacob said with a bitter tone. “You don’t know what it’s like to cling to life, and all the while lacking the courage to kill yourself. The Nurse takes that burden from us. We will not have to suffer with the sin of suicide over our heads. She has accepted the responsibility of our deaths.”
“You swallowed the lie hook, line, and sinker, didn’t you,” Shane said softly.
“It is no lie,” Jacob snarled. “You have been given a choice. Will you stay and suffer the wrath of those who support her, or will you leave and live until your time has come?”
“Wrath sounds good to me,” Shane said. “Now, if you’re not here to cheer me up for the surgery, you should probably go.”
The old man didn’t move, and Shane tightened his grip on the knuckledusters.
Then Jacob turned and left the room.
The light flickered and came on.
A knock sounded and the door opened.
A young woman walked in. She held a couple of paperback books in her hands, and she smiled at Shane.
“Here you are,” she said, bringing the books to the bed table and setting them down beside the lamp’s base.
“Thanks,” Shane said, and reflexively his right hand lashed out as the young nurse swung her fist at him.
Metal clashed against metal and Shane yelled as something plunged into his left shoulder. She kept her grip on the handle of a knife, the blade of which was buried to the hilt. As she tried to pull the weapon out Shane latched onto her wrist, keeping the knife trapped in his body.
His body shrieked, pain exploding across his nerve endings and setting his brain on fire. Shane ignored the injury, and the grating sensation of metal against bone, and swung his left fist at the nurse’s face.
Shane’s blow lacked any strength and bounced harmlessly off her forehead.
Then a powerfully cold sensation surged through his body and the woman let go of the weapon. The young nurse stumbled back as Courtney took shape in the room. The light flickered, and the bulb exploded. Cries of surprise could be heard from the hallway.
She’s drained the whole floor, Shane thought numbly.
With the room lit only by what little light came in through the window, Shane saw the young nurse catch herself on the wall. She stood and gasped, trying to catch her breath.
“Who are you?” she hissed, staring at Courtney.
Courtney said nothing. Instead, she stepped forward and grabbed hold of the woman’s blouse. Shane saw a small, grim smile appear on Courtney’s face, and then her arm was a blur. Courtney hurled the woman across the room, where the cinderblock wall stopped the young nurse violently.
Shane heard something break, and the woman slid limply down to the floor. A trail of smeared blood remained on the wall. For a heartbeat, the woman remained upright, and then silently she fell to the left, landing with a thud.
Shane watched as Courtney walked over and knelt down beside the woman, looking at her.
“She’s alive,” Courtney said, glancing at Shane.
Shane struggled and sat up. He ignored the knife hilt which protruded from him. Wincing, he got out of the bed and forced himself to sit down beside the young nurse.
“Nurse,” he said.
She didn’t respond.
“Hey!” Shane shouted.
Her breathing was ragged. Reaching out, Shane pulled up an eyelid. Only the white was showing.
Great, he thought. Pointless now. And I’ve got a damned knife in me.
“She’s dying,” Courtney said in a low voice.
“Let her.” Shane grimaced as he shifted his weight. “I hope it hurts like hell.”
Courtney vanished and Shane was left alone, wondering what to do next.
Chapter 52: An Exodus
Francis pulled the car over on the side of the road leading up to Sanford. From where he sat, he could see the building, and something curious.
Buses.
Three were parked in front of the facility, and others could be seen idling on the road reaching around to the back lot. Francis could see patients being brought down the stairs. Staff members helped them into the buses, and as Francis watched, the first bus was loaded, the doors closed, and the vehicle pulled away. Soon it passed by him, and then it was followed by the second, and the third. In less than half an hour, fourteen buses traveled down from the hospital to the main road.
The building had been emptied out.
Why? Francis thought. Why have they left? Is Matias still there? And what about Doc?
He waited for a minute, then he started the car again and turned on the radio. Francis checked the stations until he found a news report.
“The information being given out is pretty slim right now, folks,” a male reporter said. “All we know is that the authorities at Sanford Hospital said there has been some sort of chemical leak. The patients and staff are being evacuated. We’ll let you know as we learn more. But, as of right now, you can go to Manchester West High School, which is where the patients are being brought.”
Francis turned off the radio and shook his head. Decent cover story, he thought, and drove up to the back parking lot.
Shane’s car was there, near a light.
Francis frowned, shut the engine off again and looked at the tools he had brought: the shotgun, the extra rounds, the war club from Uri, and the rings on his fingers.
Abbot Gregory had allowed Francis to pick a pair of them, as he had promised. Each ring was made of thin iron and stamped with crosses. The metal was snug against the index finger of each hand, and Francis felt better knowing they were there.
He got out of the car, went around to the passenger side and took out the extra rounds and the shotgun. He felt odd, carrying a weapon while still wearing his simple robes. But a deep, powerful part of him knew it was justified, and he was doing what was right.
Turning around, Francis walked towards the back of the building. A bay door had been left open, and he quickly walked up the concrete steps. Emergency lights were on, and Francis realized there was hardly any ambient sound. He moved quickly along the corridor and found a jacket. A security badge was clipped to it, and Francis pulled it off. He held the thin plastic card in his hand and soon had a use for it.
Francis came to a secured door, but the electronic reader accepted the swipe from the card and buzzed him in.
He found himself on the first floor, A Ward, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with the hallway. Francis tried to remember where Matias’ room was, and as he looked down the hall, he saw a door with a quarantine seal around it.
Matias, he thought.
Francis quickened his pace and as he advanced he heard a noise. He twisted around in time to see an old woman. She moved towards him and Francis saw she was dead. Her face was wide, her eyes half-closed and the gray hair on her head pulled back in a loose bun. She wore a gray nightgown, clinging to her large frame.
Francis brought the shotgun up and sighted down the barrel.
Chapter 53: Matias in His Room
It took an exceptionally long time for Matias to crawl the length of his room. By the time he reached the door, he could hardly breathe. With a gasp, he rolled onto his side and pressed his back against the wall, resting his head on the floor. He closed his eyes a
nd tried to gather his breath and his wits back to him.
The way my luck is running, Matias thought grimly, Mark will return and find me out of bed. Wouldn’t that be a kicker?
Finally, Matias opened his eyes again and looked at the door. The handle was only a few feet off the floor, but it would be a challenge to reach it.
And open it, Matias thought, and then get out.
How are you going to get out of the building, Matias? he asked himself.
One problem at a time, he thought.
Matias got into a sitting position, looked at the door handle and reached up for it.
The metal was cold in his hand as he gripped it tightly. His heartbeat increased, his blood thumping in his ears as he pulled it down. Cautiously he pulled the door back, a quarter of an inch at a time, listening intently.
The sound of a shotgun jerked his hand away from the door handle and caused him to fall backward.
Chapter 54: Doc Arrives
A shotgun blast stunned Shane. Within a heartbeat the door opened, and Doc came into the room, wide-eyed.
Doc looked around, saw the body and said, “What the hell happened? And who the hell is shooting in here?”
“She tried to kill me,” Shane said, waving towards the body, “and I don’t know.”
“Jesus, man, do you have a knife in your shoulder?” Doc asked. “Where is everyone on this floor?”
“Yes. No idea,” Shane said through clenched teeth. “Listen, Doc, if you could help me with this, I would really appreciate it.”
“Yeah. Right,” Doc said, shaking his head. “Sorry. Can you follow me?”
Shane nodded. Together they left the room and went out into the empty hallway. No one was at the nurse’s station. From what Shane could see, no one was anywhere. Someone fired the shotgun twice more.
“Wait here,” Doc said, and he hurried around the nurse’s station. Shane held onto the counter top with his right hand, and he could feel the blood seeping around the edges of the knife blade. Doc reappeared thirty seconds later with a large first-aid box. He set it down, opened it, and pulled out a pair of scissors.