CHAPTER 3
Mila and Tucker had walked for what seemed to be no more than a few minutes when they were suddenly bathed in the light that emanated from the neon sign above the Emergency entrance of City Memorial Hospital.
Tucker gawked at Mila in bewilderment. “We made it! But how the fuck did we get here so fast?”
Mila held up her hands. “No idea, but I’m glad we’re here.” She seemed calm on the outside, but inwardly she was frantic. The journey to the hospital should have taken at least an hour …or longer. Yet, somehow d they’d made the trek in a matter of minutes. She couldn’t recall bypassing any familiar landmarks along the way. One moment she was scrutinizing the damage to Tucker’s car and in the next instant they were traipsing across the hospital’s parking lot.
She didn’t express her concerns to Tucker, but she feared that they might have sustained head injuries. They both could be suffering from a form of brain damage that caused them to forget their experiences from one moment to the next. Brain damage combined with internal hemorrhaging was too much to contend with, and she could feel her pulse racing at the thought of being disabled for the rest of her life.
The sliding doors glided open and they stepped inside the crowded waiting room.
Tucker let out a groan as he observed the rows of filled seats. “Geez, did the whole town decide to get sick tonight? It’s gonna take hours before we get checked out. Let’s go home, babe. I can’t sit in here with these slobs all night.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I see a doctor,” Mila said adamantly. She desperately needed to hear reassuring words from both an internist and a neurologist. And she would insist upon an MRI to make sure her brain was functioning all right. As she pondered the condition of her brain, her long fingers flitted to her head. She gingerly touched her skull and hoped that she wouldn’t find a head wound or detect any sign of brain swelling.
Tucker sighed audibly. “Listen, we can sign in and take a number or whatever, and then leave. We’ll come back in the morning—because that’s how long it’s gonna take before they get around to us,” he said, speaking in a reasonable tone of voice.
“Leave if you want, but I’m staying.” Mila jutted out her chin in defiance.
“Be sensible, Mila. We’d have better luck getting treated if we were covered in blood or had visible injuries. But we don’t; we’re fine.”
“We’re not fine,” she insisted. “We’re traumatized. It seems like we walked twelve miles in a few seconds because we’ve lost all concept of time. I think we may both have concussions. You saw that Will Smith movie, and you know that a CTE should not be ignored.”
“For Christ’s sake, Mila! At first you suspected internal bleeding and now you’ve amped up your injury to an imaginary concussion. When did you become such a hypochondriac?”
“I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Tucker folded his arms across his chest and let out a frustrated breath. He nudged his chin in the direction of the seating area. “I can’t sit in those uncomfortable chairs, so I’ll wait in the car.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he grabbed his head as if in anguish. “Fuck! I forgot that I don’t have a car anymore. It’s totaled. Shit! Just my luck that I let my insurance lapse. Man, I’m so fucked!”
Mila patted Tucker’s arm comfortingly. “You’ll get another car.” She continued patting his arm, not because she felt an ounce of compassion for him, but in order to soothe him into staying with her in the hospital’s waiting room.
“How will I pay for a new car—with my looks?” Tucker laughed. It was a quick, breathy sound that didn’t convey a bit of mirth. “I got kicked out of my own band tonight…remember? So, where am I gonna get money to replace my car?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe that I got kicked out of the band that I fucking started. Those ungrateful pussies will soon find out that the band will never make it without me.”
“It’s gonna work out, Tucker,” Mila said, hoping she sounded like she actually gave a damn. “Come on, we have to check in at the reception desk.” She took his arm and attempted to guide him toward the desk.
Scowling, Tucker removed his arm from her grasp and dug in his heels, refusing to budge. “I can’t stick around here; it’s too depressing. I gotta go.”
“We won’t have to wait long,” Mila blurted desperately. “I know how to speed things up.”
“How?”
“I’ll tell the triage nurse that we’re both in shock. And then, for good measure, I’ll pretend like I’m hyperventilating.”
Unimpressed by Mila’s plan, Tucker snorted in pure derision. “Whatever, man. There’s no way I can endure sitting in this depressing place for hours without a drink.”
Tucker’s tone was mildly belligerent, and Mila could tell that he was working himself up to start a fight. Exchanging a string of hostile words with Mila would allow him to walk out of the Emergency Room with a clear conscious.
Refusing to let him bail on her, she strong armed Tucker and practically dragged him toward the reception area. Dealing with him was like putting up with the constant antics of a petulant child, and he had no idea how done she was with him.
How had she been so blind to the fact that Tucker was a drunk and a loser? It was stupid of her to assume that he was sober enough drive, and she was disgusted with herself for getting in the car with him in the first place. She’d given up so much to be with him and her sacrifices had nearly cost her life.
Mila strolled up to the front desk of the waiting room with Tucker in tow. In a rush of exuberant words, she explained that she and Tucker had walked away from a horrific car accident. She further explained that she feared internal bleeding and a concussion. She took a deep breath, prepared to launch into theatrics if the receptionist didn’t allow them to be examined right away.
The receptionist didn’t utter a word. She didn’t even look at Mila as she briskly waved an arm toward a set of double doors that were off to her left. Mila assumed the woman was indicating that she and Tucker could bypass the triage nurse and go straight to the treatment area.
Although she was relieved, she couldn’t help from wondering why they were getting special treatment. Mila glanced at the receptionist, searching the woman’s face for an explanation, but the rude woman wouldn’t meet her eye. She looked right past Mila. Worriedly, she wondered if she and Tucker were in far worse shape than they’d realized.
She cut an eye at Tucker. He looked the same as he had when they’d left the club. His clothes were a little rumpled from the fight with Ace, but there were no signs that he’d gotten banged up in a near-fatal car crash. After a quick scan of Tucker, she anxiously patted her face, hoping she hadn’t hastily overlooked any mangled features, such as a broken nose, busted lip, or a crushed cheek bone. Thankfully, her face felt normal to the touch.
But something was dreadfully wrong. And she was terrified of discovering the truth. Apprehension coiled in the pit of her stomach, and she tightly clutched Tucker’s hand.
“I swear to God, I’m gonna puke if I don’t get a drink,” Tucker mumbled as he grudgingly allowed Mila to lead him toward the double set of doors that separated the waiting room from the treatment area.
Before they entered the treatment area, there was the sudden blare of a siren. Mila and Tucker stopped in their tracks and gazed through the plate glass window, watching as an emergency vehicle tore into the hospital’s lot and parked directly in front of the entrance.
Eager to get examined by a doctor, Mila tugged on Tucker’s hand. “Let’s go.”
“Wait. I wanna see who they’re bringing in.” Tucker’s eyes gleamed with morbid curiosity.
“I don’t care who they’re bringing in,” Mila barked.
“Wait a second, will you? I just want to see the poor slob’s injuries. You’ll see that we’re luckier than you realize,” he explained with an excited grin.
“I’ve had it with you, Tucker. You can stand around in the lobby all night if you
want, but I’m getting checked out by a doctor.”
Before Mila could whirl around and burst through the double doors, the EMT’s rushed into the lobby carrying a stretcher and yelling, “Code Blue! Code Blue!”
Tucker released a shocked cry, a sound that seemed to emanate from deep inside his throat.
Curiosity piqued, Mila squinted at the victim who was being rushed to the treatment area. As the stretcher was carted past her, she braced herself for something gruesome, such as a person with a gunshot wound to the head or a missing limb.
But nothing in the world could have ever prepared her for the inconceivable sight that she witnessed with her own two eyes.
Lying on the stretcher was a woman who was drenched in blood. Glassy blue eyes were wide open, yet unfocused. Her face had an unnatural hue, a shade that was somewhere between opaque gray and purple. Her parted lips were grotesquely twisted, as if in the midst of a scream that was trapped inside her throat. There was a gash down the right side of her head that revealed oozing brain matter. What was even more bizarre was the fact the woman was wearing clothing that was identical to Mila’s—from her mint green short-sleeved top, down to her brown ankle boots.
And on her middle finger was a replica of Mila’s high school class ring.
As the EMT’s rushed past, Mila was able to take in even more of the victim’s physical characteristics. Uncomprehendingly, she noted that the woman had blood soaked red hair that was styled in a twisted knot at the nape of her neck. The woman’s hair color was the same shade of red as Mila’s, and the twisted knot was the exact style as Mila’s tresses. The similarities between her and the bloodied woman lying on the stretcher were alarming, to say the least.
Feeling dazed, she took a deep breath. Her heart began to beat erratically as realization washed over her. The woman on the stretcher was not simply a look-alike. The woman on the stretcher was her!
But how could she be in two places at once?
Frantic, she turned to Tucker. “Did you see that woman on the stretcher? She…she looked…” Mila stammered and her voice trailed off. Feeling close to collapsing, she clung to Tucker.
“Yeah, I saw her,” he said grimly. “Like I said, this is the weirdest fucking night of my life.”
With a look of utter shock, Mila pointed to the entrance. “Oh, no! They’re bringing in another stretcher!”
Tucker craned his neck and scrutinized the second victim. “It’s a dude. Oh, fuck, he’s dressed like me!”
Mila gaped at the guy on the stretcher. He was also covered in blood. Even worse, there was a large, sharpened portion of the windshield that had gone straight through his neck like a skewer. Despite the grotesque injury, Mila could clearly see that the motionless man on the stretcher looked identical to Tucker.
“Will someone tell us what the hell is going on?” Mila demanded, close to hysteria.
But none of the EMT’s or any of the bustling hospital staff responded. None of the people waiting to be treated even bothered to bat an eye in her and Tucker’s direction.
“Hey! Are you people hard of hearing?” Tucker yelled as he watched his doppelganger being rushed through the set of double doors.
Shocked and confused, Mila’s hand covered her mouth as she ambled behind the paramedics, prepared to follow them into the treatment area.
Starting to freak out, Tucker held his head and paced in a frantic circle. “I can’t go back there. There’s no way I can watch them work on a dude that looks that much like me. I gotta try and figure this out. But I need to figure it out with a drink in my hand.”
Tucker started toward the exit sign, but Mila stopped him by grabbing the back of his shirt.
“Don’t leave, Tucker. As crazy as it sounds, I believe those are our bodies on the stretchers.”
Tucker gawked at her.
“Think about it. No one is responding to us. People are acting as if we’re invisible or something. Obviously, there’s been some kind of mistake, but I have a feeling we shouldn’t abandon our bodies. We might not get them back if—”
“Even if that dude on the stretcher was actually me, I wouldn’t want to get back into a body that has a piece of a fucking windshield sticking out of its neck. I’ll keep the body that I have, thank you very much.” He yanked his shirt out of Mila’s grasp.
“Don’t leave, Tucker! I’m really scared,” she admitted, feeling her eyes dewing up with tears. “I think there’s something horribly wrong with us,” she said shakily.
He made a scoffing sound. “We’re fine. We got out of that wreck without a scratch.”
“But what about those two bodies the EMT’s brought in? Why’re they wearing our clothes?”
“It’s a coincidence,” Tucker rationalized as he gnawed on the ragged nail of his forefinger.
She scoffed. “Well, it looks like no one in this godforsaken place can see or hear us.”
In a frantic act of desperation, she rushed over to the crowd of sick people that were occupying the waiting room. She waved her hands and shouted, but no one flinched or batted an eye.
Mila held up her hands in frustration. “See what I mean? We’re fucking invisible.”
He gazed nervously at the waiting room occupants. “Hey! Why’re you people ignoring us? We’re just trying to get some answers. You don’t have to be assholes.”
When no one acknowledged him, Tucker experienced a sinking sensation in his gut, and he turned to Mila, chewing on his fingernail with renewed vigor. “There has to be some kind of explanation. Maybe we’re, like, in a weird nightmare. Or maybe we’re sleepwalking!”
Mila rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not possible to experience the same nightmare, and it’s inconceivable that we’d be sleepwalking together.”
“Look, we’re obviously suffering from some kind of stress-related complications of the crash. I think we should go home and get some sleep. When we wake up in the morning, we’ll realize this was nothing more than a hallucination or a really fucked-up dream.”
“But suppose it’s not in our minds? Suppose we’re really invisible? If that’s the case, there’s no fucking way I’m gonna walk away from my body and let those people do whatever they want with it.”
“Get a grip. There’s only one Mila, and I’m looking at her. How could that poor, bloodied woman that was brought in on a stretcher possibly be you? You’re not in two different places; you’re standing right here in front of me.”
“Don’t you get it, Tucker? We’ve somehow disconnected from our bodies and if we don’t get some help, something bad is gonna happen and we’re gonna be completely screwed,” Mila said in panicked tone of voice.
“I’m not feeding into your paranoia,” Tucker responded, shaking his head adamantly. “Neither of us is disconnected from our bodies. That’s crazy talk, Mila.”
“You’re in denial. Instead of standing around doing nothing, you should be helping me come up with a plan.”
“The only thing I plan to do is make it to the nearest bar before they all close for the night. You can stay here if you want, but I intend get shit-faced so that I can forget all about this horrible nightmare.”
“Getting hammered is not the answer. Your drinking is the reason we crashed. You’re so fucking irresponsible,” she seethed.
“Look, I don’t see any point in sticking around this gloomy hospital. Come on, babe, let’s get out of here and go home. We can figure things out in the morning,” Tucker cajoled.
“I’m not leaving my body,” she stubbornly insisted.
“Oh, my fucking God. You just won’t let up,” Tucker exploded. “Listen, I’m finished with this idiotic conversation. I’ll see you at home,” he said, stalking toward the exit sign.
The sliding doors glided open, admitting an old man with a cane. The old man shuffled past Tucker without any form of acknowledgement. Mila watched through the plate glass window as Tucker crossed the parking lot. With his shoulders hunched and his hands stuffed inside his pockets, he w
as a forlorn figure as he disappeared into the night.
*****
Taking purposeful strides, Mila hurried toward the No Admittance sign and followed a nurse through the double set of doors. Amazingly, she ended up in the exact room where a medical team had assembled to work on her battered body.
She couldn’t recall walking through the door of the treatment room, but there she was, gnawing on her bottom lip as she hovered over her body. She tried to get the doctor’s attention. She tried to tell him that she standing right next to him, but he didn’t detect her presence. After a few minutes, the doctor dispensed with all heroic measures and pronounced her as dead-on-arrival.
The doctor removed his bloodied surgical gloves and began talking about his upcoming fishing trip as if the tragic death of a young woman was of no consequence to him. As if a young woman’s untimely demise was an insignificant event in his busy life.
But one of the nurses, a young black woman with beautiful, coiled hair, seemed to be genuinely saddened by the death. Oddly, Mila could hear the nurse telepathically and could sense her emotions. The nurse identified with Mila because they were close in age.
“We lost her…it seems so unfair,” the nurse muttered.
A male nurse put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t take it to heart, Imani. There was nothing we could do; she was already gone.”
Mila balked at the notion that she was “already gone.” She was still alive, but was unable to make herself seen or heard. Not knowing what to do or where to go, she decided to stick around the hospital until the nurse’s shift ended. Somehow, she had to convince the compassionate young woman named Imani to help her.
CHAPTER 4
Mila watched in horror as her mutilated body was covered with a white sheet.
The medical team began to file out of the room, each person immersed in their own thoughts,
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