by A and E Kirk
Darn it. Now her hair was making his nose itch. But she was pretty upset, needed the contact, which made him think she wouldn’t want him to move his arm off the hug so he could scratch his nose. Hmmm. Girls were complicated. If only he had some chocolate. Maybe he should consider keeping some handy whenever they were out with Aurora.
“Thanks,” Aurora abruptly released him and took a deep breath.
Logan rubbed at his sore chest, appreciating the lack of pressure.
She took a long look at the Suburban. “Wow. They were really trying to kill me. Those freaking jerks.”
Aurora looked at the ground for a moment and shook her head. When she looked back up, her eyes no longer held the terror Logan had seen earlier. She was still trembling, but not nearly as bad as before. Aurora got scared, but she was tough. And certainly no coward.
Logan remembered when she had carried his unconscious body through the tunnels under the school surrounded by Flint’s less-than-friendly gadgets. She could have curled up in a ball and given up. Or left him there and tried to save herself. But instead, she had hefted him onto her shoulders and traipsed around the creepy labyrinth trying to save them both.
Yeah. She’d be okay. By the look in her eyes, he could already see her getting her groove back.
“You know what?” she said. “I’m better than okay. Bill and Ted better hope they never see me again, because now, I am seriously ticked off!”
Good. Aurora angry proved much easier for him to deal with. And he was glad she had recovered before the guys arrived. He should probably call them.
Aurora leaned against the Suburban and ran her fingers over the rough indentations. “Not that I’m complaining, but how didn’t I die in a hail of bullets?”
Filled with a deep sense of pride, Logan grinned. One day Logan could tell his dad he’d not only saved his friend’s life, but that of the Divinicus Nex. The Mandatum should give him a medal.
OPERATION:
Novo? More Like No-Don’t
LOCATION:
Novo
“He really used Cheez Whiz? And it made the gnome explode?” Mr. Grant let out a hearty laugh. “I wish I would have seen that.”
“No, you don’t,” Tristan said, but he was grinning. “It was pretty gross. And the smell. Ugh. Even grosser.”
“Blake sounds like quite the character. And a good friend.”
“Yeah. They all are.”
After dinner, they took a walk, enjoying the lush landscape of Novo’s extensive grounds. The desert sky glowed with warm colors beginning to mute into night as the sun set over the distant mountains and the scorching hot air of the daytime began to cool. Engines roared to life as a private plane took off from the airstrip. Once the sound faded away, the sounds of various wild animals floated in on the breeze blowing from the arid land outside the isolated compound.
Starting at the main building which towered at the center of the huge complex, Tristan and Mr. Grant wandered aimlessly, meandering around the golf course, the stables, the sparkling pools. Tristan loved chatting with his dad like a regular father and son catching up because they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. But if he ever forgot that it was a hospital rather than a super swanky resort, the hawk-eyed personnel striding through the lawns or riding golf carts and wearing logoed blazers reminded him that the high adobe walls were meant to keep patients in rather than riffraff out.
Some of those being treated at the facility, all wearing standard issue white tracksuits, seemed normal enough. But then there were the ones having lively conversations with people who didn’t exist. Tristan found it uncomfortable because he knew that not long ago his dad had been among those same individuals who were less inclined to live in reality.
But that was then, and this was now.
Mr. Grant stopped at a bench under some trees and sat down. “Let me see those pictures again. Dr. Oser says that can help. Something about seeing things from the present in relationship to the past can bridge the gap and help me remember more.”
Tristan pulled the photos from his pocket and handed them over. “This Dr. Oser guy, you like him?”
“He’s terrific!” Mr. Grant said as he flipped through the photos. “I can never repay him for giving me my life back. My son back. He’s supposed to be here tomorrow. I’m so excited for you to meet him.”
Tristan had tried to see the doctor during his last visit, but apparently he traveled a lot. For all the man had done for his father and their family, Dr. Oser was a god as far as Tristan was concerned, and he couldn’t wait to thank him in person.
While his dad looked through the pictures, Tristan zipped up his jacket. He’d brought his Gossamer Falls High School hoodie, the gold one with the gargoyle on the back. On the last trip, he hadn’t brought anything warm, and they’d given him a white Novo jacket like his dad’s. A couple of times while wearing it, Tristan had been mistaken for a patient. He wasn’t eager to repeat that experience.
“Blake, he’s so big now!” Mr. Grant said as he continued to flip through the photos over and over again. “I remember him as just a little guy. Like all of you. He must work out.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “All the time.”
“That Logan is a snappy dresser. And the Ishida boys. They were always hard to tell apart. Short hair is…?”
“Ayden.”
“Right. So long hair is Jayden. Now this….” Mr. Grant pointed. “Matthias, right? I still don’t remember him because he showed up after…the, uh…the uh—” Mr. Grant’s brow furrowed, and his eyes lost focus.
“No, you never met him,” Tristan said quickly. He’d seen that look before and it didn’t bode well. Tristan flipped to another photo and pointed. “But Aurora, you remember her, right? Red hair. Talked a lot. Tall.”
Mr. Grant blinked. He smiled, although it was tentative. “Yes, of course. Aurora. Red hair. Tall. Even then. Taller than you.”
“Still is,” Tristan admitted.
“Her father was a doctor.”
“Right!” Tristan smiled, happy that his dad had a clearer look in his eyes.
“You and your friends hung out with her a lot, but then she moved away. You weren’t happy about that.” Mr. Grant patted Tristan’s hand. “But now she’s back. I’m glad. You should bring her some time. Are you two, you know? Friends?”
“Yeah. I told you that.”
“No.” Mr. Grant gave Tristan a meaningful look. “I mean good friends?”
“What?” Tristan said, confused, then he blushed. “Oh, no. She’s actually dating Ayden.”
Mr. Grant shrugged. “Oh. Okay. Well, there’s plenty of time for that. Thanks for bringing more photos. It’s nice to see you and your friends and the things you did growing up. Wish I would have been there.” His eyes became watery, then he said almost to himself, “I should have been there.”
Tristan took his dad’s hand in his own. “It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
“No. You can’t blame yourself. You were just a kid.” Mr. Grant frowned. His eyes became unfocused and troubled. “I should have been stronger. Should have helped more. Then our family would never have been torn apart.” He closed his eyes.
Tristan rubbed his forehead. He wished he had the right words to help his father. To stop the guilt.
Mr. Grant suddenly smiled, and his tone became more lighthearted. “You know what might help me? Pictures. Did you happen to bring more?”
Tristan’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, dad. They’re in your hand.”
Mr. Grant paused for a moment, then he looked at the photos he held and his expression turned bright. “Oh, look. More pictures. Thank you. Dr. Oser says it’s helpful.” He pointed. “Which one is this? He’s so big. Does he work out?”
“It’s Blake, dad. I already told you—”
“Sure, sure. I knew that. And the redhead?”
“Aurora. Look, maybe we should talk about something else.” Tristan tried to take the pho
tos from his dad, but Mr. Grant pulled them back.
“Aurora, Aurora.” He stared at the photo for a long moment, then squeezed his eyes shut. “Aurora, Aurora,” he muttered. “I’ll remember that. Tall. Red hair. Blue eyes. Talks a lot.” He looked at Tristan, started to speak, then stared intently as if trying to solve a puzzle. “Um, uh. I know it. I know you. It’s…” The photos crumpled as his hand closed into a tight fist.
“It’s Tristan, dad. Your son.” Please remember me, he silently begged.
“Tristan!” Mr. Grant’s hand shot up, sending the pictures fluttering into the air. He didn’t seem to notice. “Yes, of course. Tristan. Tristan. My son. Tristan.” He smiled, but it was faulty. Like a lightbulb flickering in and out, losing power.
Tristan took a deep breath. He tried not to worry, but then, of course, he worried.
This had happened before. His dad could be completely lucid one moment, then forget again, and then minutes later he’d be back to lucid. Like glitches in his brain function. The nurses reminded Tristan that his dad was still on the road to recovery, and this was all perfectly normal.
The nurses’ reassurances didn’t make Tristan worry any less, but he put on a good face and didn’t let his father see him upset, because the nurses also expressed the importance of Mr. Grant needing a calm, welcoming environment at all times. Absolutely no stress. Or as little as possible. Fear, distress, anxiety of any kind could easily cause irreparable damage and undo some or all of the progress he had made.
And this time he may never get it back.
The medical professionals didn’t say that exactly, but it was implied. Tristan thought of it as a virus attacking Mr. Grant’s hard drive and he knew that a potent enough virus could wipe the hard drive clean. The data – his memories – lost forever.
Which was why, although he’d love to have Mr. Grant home, Tristan wanted his dad to remain at Novo. Far away from the crazy chaos and danger that seemed to follow Aurora and the Hex Boys these days. He was protected here in a safe, tranquil place. Plus he had access to this new doctor.
“Did I do that?” Mr. Grant said, looking at the pictures on the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Don’t even worry about it, dad.” Tristan picked up the photos. “Do you want to go for a walk before I take you back to your room?”
Mr. Grant watched his son, then he bit his lip and looked around. He spotted a book on the bench next to him and snatched it up. “If you don’t mind, I would like to read for a bit. I am so enjoying this book. It’s quite the space odyssey thriller.”
Tristan knew the book had already been on the bench when they’d come out here. It didn’t belong to his father. By the looks of the half-naked couple on the cover, it was a racy romance novel.
“Sure, dad,” Tristan said, doing his best to sound unconcerned. “I’ve got to go see someone anyway.”
“You know someone else here?”
“Not exactly. She’s an old friend of a friend. Her name’s Heather. I promised I’d look her up.” Tristan hadn’t seen Heather yet. He had found her ward, but she was locked up tight, and the nurses were adamant that she wasn’t allowed visitors.
“Heather?” Mr. Grant said. “You’re going to see a girl? You must be quite the ladies’ man.”
That made Tristan laugh.
“You go do what you have to do.” Mr. Grant patted Tristan’s hand. “I will be right here waiting for you. Reading my book. Here, reading my book.” He opened the novel and flipped through pages. “Now where did I leave off?”
Tristan hugged his dad and then stood. “I won’t be long.”
In no time, Tristan was walking through the halls of one of Novo’s hospital wings. Cream colored walls, antiseptic smells. He wasn’t crazy about hospitals in general, and he liked this one even less since it brought on too much guilt which weighed heavy on his heart.
Still worried about his dad, he desperately wanted something else to concentrate on. He needed a win.
He arrived at the nurses station on Heather’s ward. He’d used Aunt M’s computer to access the security cameras and follow Heather’s movements. While not able to find her actual room, after checking in at a few nurses stations in the areas he had seen her on the monitors, he’d finally pinned it down.
In the security footage, burly male nurses usually accompanied Heather, especially when she went to the Recreation Room. He’d seen her there with them yesterday. Keeping with the plan to avoid them, Tristan had come by earlier after making sure they weren’t around. The stern looking brunette nurse he’d spoken to before was on the other side of the station flipping through files and making notes. There were a few other nurses bustling around, but Tristan noticed a younger woman with a pleasant face typing on a computer. As he edged closer to her, she looked up and smiled.
Tristan smiled back and noted her nametag. “Excuse me, uh, Sarah. I’m looking for—”
“Heather,” the stern brunette said, closing the file and gathering up a large pile of manila folders on the desk. “I remember. And I told you that Dr. Jones doesn’t allow Heather to have visitors unless they are on the list. You, sir, are not on the list.”
“I know. I was just hoping that I could see her. I’m here to help out my dad. He’s a patient, and getting better, but I think this would mean a lot to him if I could see her.”
“Sorry. Rules are rules,” she said with finality.
Tristan opened his mouth to ask her to reconsider, but realized he didn’t actually know what he could say to change the woman’s mind.
He usually changed minds with ease, but using his powers here wasn’t a good idea. The Novo staff had training in regards to Hallucinators. Not only how to help them, but, more importantly in Tristan’s case, to know when Hallucinators were trying to mess with their brains.
A necessary precaution at this place. Plenty of doctors were Hallucinators, and even some of the patients were notorious for using their powers in less than positive ways. Novo kept those patients isolated in their own area of the facility so they couldn’t do any more damage, unwittingly or not. But the bottom line was that if Tristan tried to use his powers, Nurse Hardcase could know and report him.
He wasn’t sure what would happen if she did, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. The last thing he wanted was to get on the Mandatum’s bad side or draw attention to himself. Keep everything low-key. Matthias had made that point clear, and Tristan was happy to oblige.
The brunette watched him, almost as if she knew what he was contemplating. Which was a little creepy. His hands started to sweat.
“Do we understand each other?” she asked.
“Yes,” Tristan bobbed his head. “Thank you.”
For nothing, he wanted to add, but kept quiet, choking on his frustration. Heather was one of the few solid leads to the traitor. The Boys and Aurora were counting on him. Matthias had said that Tristan wasn’t an offensive hunter. While true, it still stung. And now, without being able to employ his Hallucinator powers, he felt utterly useless, ending this day on a losing streak.
“Good.” The brunette, Nurse Hardcase, looked down at Sarah. “I’m going to drop these off. Be back short— Ugh!” she exclaimed as another woman carrying a tall load of precariously stacked boxes backed into her.
The force sent Nurse Hardcase into the desk and knocked the computer keyboard off the table.
“Sorry!” came a muffled apology before the woman with the boxes scurried off. Tristan couldn’t see her face, only blonde hair with bright blue tips that matched both her bright blue doctor scrubs and neon blue hightop sneakers.
Nurse Hardcase scowled after her. “Who in the world?”
Sarah replaced the keyboard on the desk. “Oh no,” she said and banged on a few keys. “It froze again.”
Nurse Hardcase sighed. “Call tech.”
“Last time they took forever.”
“I know but what choice do we have?”
/> “I can take a look,” Tristan said. Nurse Hardcase gave him a suspicious squint, but he persisted. “I’m pretty good with computers.”
Sarah shrugged. “Can’t hurt. And I can still call tech.”
After chewing on her lip, Nurse Hardcase nodded. “Fine. But if you break something—”
“I won’t,” Tristan promised.
“I’m still not letting you talk to Heather.”
Tristan gave her a tired smile. “Yes ma’am. Rules are rules.” And if he could get on the computer, he could access Heather’s file and maybe get some answers.
The brunette’s expression softened a hair, then she gave a crisp nod and headed down the hall, shifting her files into one arm while taking her cell phone from her pocket and dialing.
As Tristan sat in front of the computer, Sarah said, “She’s not that bad. It’s just that around here, rules are really important to keep everything running smoothly.”
“Sure,” he said. “I get it. Probably the same rules that help my dad.”
“How long has he been a patient?”
“A long time.” Tristan cleared his throat. “Like…years.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” she said. “At least you visit him. I wish you could talk to Heather, because she’s been here a while too, but doesn’t socialize. Has never had visitors. Other than Dr. Jones and the new one. But never family. I feel bad for her. Are you a relative? Because if you are, I could call someone and ask for you to get permission to see her.” She reached for the phone.
“No, that’s okay,” Tristan said quickly, not wanting to alert Dr. Jones or anyone else connected to Heather. This wasn’t going well. “I don’t even know her. At all. It’s my dad. He said she had been nice to him. He wanted me to thank her and I’m trying to do anything to help with his recovery.”
“Your dad is on this ward?” Sarah said, looking skeptical. “Because if he isn’t, I’m not sure how they would have met.”
