by A.L. Svartz
***
Mr. Malmsteen slowly started to open his eyes. Bright lights were in his face. He could see a fuzzy figure standing over him.
"Hey, he's starting to wake-up," a familiar voice to Mr. Malmsteen said.
As his vision started to clear up. It was revealed that Mr. Eisen was hovering over him. He had a smile on his face.
"Hank?" Mr. Malmsten said in a very raspy voice. "Is that you?" He cleared his throat.
"Yeah it's me," he responded.
Mr. Malmsteen leaned up in the bed he was lying in. As he pulled himself up, he noticed that tubes were implanted in his arm, connecting to a machine that was next to him.
"What the hell is this?" Mr. Malmsteen said, pulling his arm towards him, rocking the machine.
"Don't do that!" Mr. Eisen quickly said. He went over and stopped the machine from toppling over.
"Where am I?! Mr. Malmsteen demanded to know. His tone got more aggressive. "What happened?!"
"You had a minor heart attack," Mr. Eisen explained. "The doctor said that you're going to be alright, but they want to keep you here for a few days for some testing."
"Like hell they're going to keep me locked up in this disease-filled building!" Mr. Malmsteen said. "Give me your jacket."
"Why?" Mr. Eisen asked.
"Just give it to me!" He demanded. Mr. Eisen unzipped his jacket and tossed it on top of Mr. Malmsteen. "Go get me some paper towels from the bathroom. A lot." Mr. Eisen walked into the bathroom that was in the room and came back with a handful of brown paper towels. "And tape. Find some tape." Searching around the room, Mr. Eisen found some packing tape that was left on a table near the door. He handed both things to Mr. Eisen.
"What are you going to do with them?" Mr. Eisen wondered.
Mr. Malmsteen didn't answer. He turned and put his bare feet on the ground. Holding onto the tubes that were lodged in his arm, he took a deep breathe. Giving a forceful tug on the tubes, they all popped out at once.
"Ahh!" Mr. Eisen said, shocked at what his sick friend had just did.
Mr. Malmsteen yelled out in pain as blood spurted from both the tubes and his arm. He wrapped the brown paper towels around his arm before securely taping them on. Blood was starting to stain the paper towels that were on his arm.
"Get me more paper towels," Mr. Malmsteen demanded. "Quickly!" Mr. Eisen ran into the bathroom and came back with more paper towels.
Mr. Malmsteen slapped them around his arm, taping those ones as well. He squeezed his arm, hoping to stop the blood. It took a few moments until the blood that was gushing from his arm slowed down. Mr. Malmsteen then put Mr. Eisen's jacket on over the hospital clothes. He stood up from the bed. His balance was off a little.
"What about the blood on the floor?" Mr. Eisen said. He pointed at the puddle.
"Forget it," Mr. Malmsteen responded. "I'm checking myself out." He limped over to the door, still holding his arm.
Exiting the room with Mr. Eisen right behind him, they both stealthy made there way to the lobby. As they were heading towards the front door, a woman behind a window called them out.
"Where are you taking this patient?" The woman asked. She lowered the magazine she had up to her face while placing he other hand on her hip.
Mr. Malmsteen and Mr. Eisen didn't turn around to face the woman.
"I am choosing to leave on my own," Mr. Malmsteen said.
"I'm afraid you can't do that," the woman behind the desk calmly said.
"I can do whatever the hell I want to!" Mr. Malmsteen yelled. "I don't take orders from anyone." He pushed his way out the doors with Mr. Eisen following right behind. "Where's the car?" He walked out in the middle of the parking lot, piles of snow present all around him.
Mr. Eisen started walking off in one direction with Mr. Malmsteen now following behind. They both went over to the far side of the hospital where Mr. Eisen's driver was waiting in the car.
They both approached car, getting in the backseat. The heat was on in the car, warming the two right up.
"Where to sir?" The driver asked, turning down the radio. The driver turned around, facing the two. He noticed the blood stained paper towels wrapped around Mr. Malmsteen's arm. "Oh my gosh! What happened?"
"Hold up!" Mr. Eisen yelled at his driver. He put his open palm in front of the driver's face.
"What time is it anyway?" Mr. Malmsteen asked.
Mr. Eisen looked down at his watch and said, "a little past noon. Why?"
"I'm late!" Mr. Malmsteen yelled. "I'm late at the office! We need to leave now!"
"You have an excuse," his friend said, trying to calm him down. "You had a medical emergency. That's a good enough excuse for missing work."
"You don't understand!" Mr. Malmsteen said. "Our stock has been tumbling. Ever since the shooting incident. What's our stock at right now?"
Mr. Eisen pulled out his phone, searching around until he found it. "Down five percent," he said.
"Five percent!" Mr. Malmsteen yelled. "That's worse than the other day! Take us to the building! I need to dig us out of this grave!"
The driver drove out of the parking lot, heading towards the CEO's building.