The Aztec Saga - Hunted

by J.S. Davidson

Chapter Three

  The room blurred, and my eyes burned as my eyelids slowly began to open. My eyes felt heavy and only semi-responsive to my commands, as was the rest of my body.

  My mind was dull and distant. I couldn’t remember where I was, and trying to sort through my memories was like looking through an opaque window; the more I tried to focus, the more distorted they became.

  As I peered through my lashes, I could see the vague outlines of two women moving around the room. They were speaking to each other, but their words entered my ears as though being spoken under water. I could also hear an insistent beeping.

  I felt as though I had been awake for a hundred years, so I allowed my eyelids to close gently. I lay still, hoping to feel Michael’s hand touch mine. I waited for a moment, but there was nothing. I was waiting for his hand to stroke my forehead while his gentle voice explained the recent events. But there was no voice, and there was no hand.

  “Where am I?” I asked, but my voice was so faint I could barely hear it. The figures appeared unaware of my presence as they spoke.

  “What’s her story?” one woman asked the other. “It’s my first week in this hospital, so I don’t know the back stories of any of the patients.”

  “This is Alexandra,” the second woman responded. “She came to us about two years ago with severe head trauma. You might have seen it on the news—tragic story. The building she was in exploded! Honestly, I don’t know how she survived. There was hardly anything left of the others.”

  “Oh my God! That’s awful. What happened?”

  “Turned out the landlord was negligent—something to do with gas cylinders. Anyway, she arrived non-responsive, so was put on life support. We all thought she would pass once the plug was pulled…”

  “And she didn’t? What a miracle! Oh, I bet her family was so relieved!”

  The second woman paused for a moment. “Alexandra does not have one living relative that we know of. Believe it or not, it was Tess who decided when to pull the plug.”

  “Tess? Are you serious? I bet she didn’t even flinch! She’s one cold woman.”

  “There were lawyers in and out of here for a few days and something about a court order. But it was Tess who turned off the support once the legalities were sorted. No one can figure it out, but Alexandra just kept on breathing!”

  “But she hasn’t been intubated?” she asked surprised.

  “Didn’t have to be. I don’t know how or why, but she’s managed to breathe on her own. It’s almost like she’s asleep rather than in a coma. Still, I kind of hope she doesn’t wake up. Could you imagine it?”

  The first woman sighed sympathetically. “Oh, I know. To her, it will seem like yesterday when she was with everyone she loved. She would have no idea two years have slipped by.”

  They continued to converse as they exited the room, but I wasn’t listening. The opaque window that sheltered me from my memories had blown open—I remembered everything. My stomach convulsed as I thought of my baby girl in the house, and my beautiful husband who I would never see again. No, it must have been a mistake. If I survived, they would have too.

  I had to get out of this bed—I had to find them! I bent my arm into the bed to sit myself up, but as I did, something pinched in the crease of my elbow. I rolled my head on the overly soft pillow and tried to focus my eyes on my arm; a drip protruded from my vein. The drip was the cause of the ever-insistent beeping. Every beep ricocheted inside my head.

  I reached my heavy hand across my body and tore the cannula from my arm. Blood dripped steadily over the pristine white sheets. I grunted as I tried to push myself up, but I could not take my weight. I tried again, but couldn’t coordinate any movement.

  “What the hell?” a woman exclaimed as she ran to my aid.

  “I can’t stand. Why can’t I stand?” I pleaded as panic shot through me. “Am I paralysed?”

  “Stand! You shouldn’t be able to open your eyes!” The woman snapped as she pushed firmly on my shoulders to position me back into the bed. “You’ve ripped your drip out. I’m going to have to re-site it in your hand!” she hissed. “What were you thinking? Waking up in a hospital and your first thought is to rip out your tubing?” She held my arm firmly in her hands, inspecting my veins.

  “Hospital? What hospital? Why am I here? What’s happening? Why can’t I stand?” I demanded. “I need to find them Let me go!” I tried to push at her, but my arms failed me again.

  “Stop fighting with me and listen!” she ordered as she pushed me back to the pillow. “You’ve just woken from a coma; a coma no one expected you to wake from—ever! You can’t stand because you’ve lost all your muscle tone. Two years you’ve been lying in bed! The only time you moved was when we rotated you every two hours.”

  “Two years? No, it can’t have!” My chest tightened at the thought.

  “It has been two years.” Her tone softened. “I am certain of it because I’ve been your tending nurse for almost all that time.”

  “The people I lived with ... where are they? Those women said they died; they can’t have! Where are they?” I pleaded with her. “They must have me confused with someone else.”

  The woman leant across to the side table and pulled the drawer out to retrieve a bandage, then began wrapping my arm. “There’s no mistake.”

  Tears started to build up behind my eyes, the hot liquid burning as it seeped down my cheeks. “You’re wrong!” I cried. “If I’m alive, so are they! Why won’t you tell me where they are?”

  She sighed. “Listen to me. You’ve been in this hospital for two years. You were the only survivor; I assure you.”

  I laid back on my pillow not bothering to wipe the tears as they flowed down my cheeks. I knew she was right. I knew they’d died from the moment the fireman found me, but I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself yet.

  She sat on the edge of my bed and tucked the last piece of my bandage within itself. “Look. My name is Tess, and I have been nursing you the two years you have been here. Now, I’m sorry you have found out this way, and I’m sorry you’re alone now, I really am, but right now we have to deal with you. Generally, when people wake they might be able to move their eyes or squeeze a hand, but here you are holding a conversation with me ...”

  “Well, hello.” An unfamiliar voice spoke.

  I lifted my head to see a short, stocky man with brown hair walking casually into my room. He was wearing a white coat that was covering a neat shirt and dark pants. A badge was pinned to his lapel saying: ‘Dr. Hemmings’.

  “Brian, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Tess flourished towards him. “I was in here not three hours ago, and she was completely comatose. Just now, I found her trying to get out of bed, fully conscious and with gross motor skills I’d expect to see only after months of rehabilitation.”

  “Yes, quite astonishing. You’ve certainly surprised us, Alexandra. How do you feel?” he asked me as he adjusted his thick glasses.

  I glared at him. “How would you be feeling?”

  He rocked on his feet and threw a look to Tess. “So you’re aware of what has happened?”

  “That I’m alone? Everyone I ever loved is gone? That they died horribly in an explosion? Yeah, I’m aware.” The words slid across my tongue like poisoned razors.

  I could see a perfect image of Sasha and Michael in my mind; they were smiling and happy. I would never see them smile again. I closed my eyes to preserve that perfect memory, but I could already feel it slipping away.

  “I am sorry for your loss. I cannot begin to imagine what you are going through; however, do you understand what an anomaly you are? Coma patients do not just wake up as you have, and they certainly do not have the function of their motor skills. If I didn’t know your history, I’d never believe you to have been comatose for two years.”

  He spoke as though my sudden awakening should have impressed me. I was not impressed; I was angry. Why did I have to live a life alone? Why did my family have to die in the ex
plosion?

  “I have just woken up to find that the two people I love most are dead. You’ll forgive me when I say I don’t give a crap how much of an anomaly I am,” I snarled.

  He nodded once and lifted one eyebrow. “Yes, well, I need to check over you. May I?”

  “Do whatever you want,” I hissed.

  He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and watched the seconds tick by on his watch. His fingers were smooth and cool—I didn’t like them. After a minute, he released my wrist, opened his folder and scribbled something in my file. He then pulled out a small torch from the chest pocket of his white jacket, peeled my eyelid open with his thumb, and shone the light into each of my eyes.

  “Both pupils are equal and reactive.” He slid the torch back in his pocket. “I’m going to order a brain scan … make sure everything is ticking the way it should. In the meantime, you must tell the nurses if you experience any headaches, dizziness, nausea, or anything that seems out of the ordinary.” He turned to Tess. “A word outside ...”

  I was only half listening to him as an overwhelming sense of hopelessness washed over me. Not only was I alone, but I had no purpose, no reason to wake in the mornings. No one needed me anymore.

  Dr. Hemmings turned and began to walk from the room, but stopped short of the door, pausing as he turned to speak to me. “This may not be what you want to hear, but it’s something you need to hear. You are alive for a reason, Alexandra. For whatever reason that may be, you have been given a second chance. Instead of focusing on your loss, focus on why you were given your second chance.” He pulled a small smile and walked through the door with Tess in close pursuit.

  I closed my eyes. He was right, but I didn’t want to hear it.

  I’m not sure if time passed slowly or not that afternoon. I don’t think I slept, although I might have. My mind was playing memories like a cinema would a movie, and I let them run freely.

  The cruellest thing in this world is to regret, and I was filled with regret; the nights I just yelled goodnight to Sasha because I was too busy with something else to tuck her in, or only half listening to the little stories she would go on about because they were the same stories as yesterday. Instead of playing outside with her, I was inside cleaning the house. Really, how important is a clean house? Christ! The house doesn’t even exist anymore, much less have anyone to impress. I was angry with myself for letting such insignificant things control my life. Now, I was completely alone, and I ached for my daughter and my husband. 

  “Still awake, I see,” said Tess as she entered the room pulling a small dinner cart behind her. She was small and slender, with her blonde hair pulled up into a tight ponytail emphasising her high-pointed cheekbones and her blue eyes. She was wearing navy-blue, loose-fitting pants with a loose shirt to match.

  “No one was expecting you to be awake, so I’m afraid you only get what was left in the kitchen,” she said promptly with a stern voice. “You have chicken broth.”

  I didn’t care; I wasn’t hungry. I felt empty, but it was the kind of empty food would never fill.

  Ignoring my cool demeanour, she arranged the food precisely on the trolley and rolled it over my bed. “Now, Alexandra, I want you sip your soup—slowly. If you think your stomach is handling it well enough, you can try some bread in a few days. She paused as she watched me begin to spoon the soup. “You know, in all my years, I’ve never seen anything like what has happened here with you today,” Tess said.

  “What do you mean?” My voice had become hoarse, and it was beginning to hurt to speak.

  “You ... just opening your eyes and moving around like that.” She flew her hands in the air and pushed them back onto her hips just as quickly. “And now this! You’re sitting when you shouldn’t even be able to nod your head! Some people may call it a miracle,” she scoffed, clearly not a faith believer.

  “I wouldn’t call it a miracle. I wish … I wish I had gone with my family.”

  Tess spoke quietly, “Look, I know you are grieving, and this is a shock. I know better than anyone does, the importance of grieving, but don’t let that grieving become self-pity. It doesn’t matter if you crawl up into a ball and stay that way for a year, or if you accept the fact that you’re alive and get on with your life; either way, they’re never coming back.”

  I looked at her furiously. I could almost feel my blood boil. “I’m not …” But, instead of yelling at her, I began to scream as a searing pain tore through my temples and behind my eyes. It felt as though a scolding knife was slicing my head in two. I clapped my hands over my eyes and forehead; the pain was unbearable.

  “Alexandra? Alexandra?” Tess was demanding my response. I could hear the alarm in her voice.

  The knifing pain stabbed in again, but deeper this time. With it, came images: a glowing lantern hanging from a dark timber verandah, and a pair of eyes. The eyes were like none I had ever seen. They were the darkest blue—almost black—and they were watching me. The eyes could see me. They were filing through my memories. I could feel them forcing themselves through my mind, pulling memories at random. I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t; I was frozen. The eyes burned deeper and deeper into my memories, taking each of them past my consciousness as they did.

  “Get away from me!” I screeched and punched the air violently.

  I felt the cold, hard hospital floor beneath my body.

  “Delilah! Stop staring like a mullet and get Dr. Hemmings!” Tess yelled.

  I felt her hands on the back of my shoulders as she pulled me from the floor, helping me to stand.

  “Alexandra? Can you see me?” she snapped, her bony hands on either side of my face as her wide eyes assessed me.

  “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

  Dr. Hemmings hurried through the sliding door into my room. “What’s going on? What’s happened?” he demanded of Tess.

  Tess inhaled deeply. “She was fine. Then she started wailing around, screaming the damn building down and throwing punches.” She pointed to the side of her face. She wore a bruise, which was swelling quickly. “She threw herself from the bed.”

  “I’m sorry Tess. I didn’t mean to hit you. I was hitting the eyes away,” I said quickly.

  “Eyes?” Dr. Hemmings frowned.

  “Yes, eyes. I saw a lantern and eyes. The eyes wanted to take me. They were reading my thoughts,” I stammered in panic, my breathing forced and erratic.

  “Shh, shh, shh. Calm down.” Dr. Hemmings spoke clearly.

  I could feel my body heat rise as fear swamped me. “It was real! I could feel them stealing my memories. They wanted to take me,” I screamed frantically.

  “Okay. I believe you,” Dr. Hemmings said as he gave a nod to someone over my shoulder.

  “You need to help me.” I felt a small jab in my arm. I ignored it. “We neeeed toooo fii, tooo fii …” My voice slurred, and my body was heavy.

  “This will help you to rest.” Dr. Hemmings said. It was the last thing I heard.