by A and E Kirk
“No, um,” Tristan stalled, trying to come up with something plausible. “I think it was in the Rec Room on this floor. My dad’s doctor has him trying new environments to help him learn how to acclimate.”
This was true, although Tristan had no idea if his dad had ever been to this Recreation Room. But to his relief, Sarah seemed satisfied.
“Oh. Makes sense. That’s one of the few things they let Heather out of her room for other than when she gets treatments from her doctors. She can be gone for days then.”
“What kind of treatments?”
“Don’t know. They don’t put anything specific in her chart.”
The computer proved an easy fix, but Tristan kept messing with it to buy some time to figure out how to access Heather’s file. But with Sarah looking over his shoulder, he wasn’t going to risk it.
“Excuse me, coming through.” The female doctor with the blue hair had returned, boxes still stacked high in her arms. Just after she passed out of sight down the hall, there was a crash as the boxes tumbled to the floor. “Oh, no. Sarah, would you be a dear and come and help me?”
Sarah’s brow knitted together, but then she said, “Sure, Doctor, uh…sure.” She told Tristan, “Be right back,” and walked away.
As soon as she turned her back, he grabbed the mouse, but it slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor.
Sarah stopped and turned. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Fine,” Tristan said quickly, wiping his sweaty palm on his jeans and picking up the mouse. “Just be another minute.”
“Sarah, dear,” the doctor said from somewhere down the hall. “I could really use your help.”
Sarah disappeared around the corner. In short order, Tristan pulled up Heather’s file. Tristan already knew Heather’s basic information, so he scanned through, looking for something new. There was no contact info for Dr. Jones. Some drugs were listed. He recognized some sedatives, but others he had no idea.
Sarah was right. Heather’s treatments didn’t mention specifics. But she was scheduled for one in less than an hour, after which she would be away from the ward for at least two days. Great. He was about to lose any chance of talking to her.
He noted her room number, but according to her schedule and a blinking red LOCATION light, she was in the Recreation Room right now, and would stay there until she was taken for the mysterious treatments by Nurse Tank.
Tank? Seemed appropriate. And scary.
Sarah strolled into view. “How’s it going?”
Tristan quickly cleared the screen, scooted the chair back, and stood. “Think you’re all good here.”
“Really?” The nurse leaned over, used the mouse, typed on a few keys. “Wow. You are good. Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Not a problem. I’ll see you around.”
“Look,” she said. “The next time I see Heather, I can tell her you said thanks, but honestly, I doubt she’ll remember.”
“Why not?”
The young woman pursed her lips and gave a quick look over her shoulder. There were lots of people cruising around the halls, but no one seemed to pay them any mind. Still, she kept a cautious demeanor and lowered her voice.
“Heather stays sedated for the most part, per doctor’s orders. Otherwise, the word is she can get volatile. I’ve never seen it happen because she’s usually groggy and not very responsive, and none of us are even supposed to engage with her.”
“Never?”
“Not unless it’s an emergency and the nurses assigned to her exclusively aren’t around, but that doesn’t happen often. They are like, big guys. I mean big.” She opened her arms out to the side to give the impression of a hulking figure. Based on the guys Tristan had seen in the security feeds, he had to agree. “And I always thought there’s a reason they need someone like that to watch over her. So honestly, my advice would be it’s probably safer to keep her away from your dad.” Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “But don’t mention that I said anything. I could get into trouble.”
She looked worried, so Tristan reassured her. “No, of course not.”
“Thanks,” she said. “For the help. And good luck with your dad’s recovery.”
Tristan waved and headed down the hall, knowing where he had to go, but not excited about it.
After a few turns, he came to a bank of windows along the hall, with RECREATION ROOM printed on a set of double doors. Inside the large room, patients sat at tables engaged in various activities – playing games, reading books, drawing, making crafts. Although some just sat and stared. Heather was among the latter.
Her brown hair in a ponytail, Heather wore a Novo sweatsuit and sat at a table in the back staring straight ahead, her eyes glassy and vacant. Every now and then she blinked. Very slowly. She seemed out of it. Much like his dad used to look.
When another patient came over with a deck of cards and said something to Heather, she gave him no response. He shrugged and walked away. Several nurses milled around watching over patients, but none of them looked big enough to be Heather’s caretakers.
Heather sat still and lifeless. Another girl at the table drew with frantic strokes on a sketch pad, too busy to care about Heather’s lack of communication. A conversation with Heather didn’t look promising, but he already had nothing, so he had nothing to lose. And it was a lucky break to find her alone. No telling how long that would last.
He waited until several people entered the Rec Room and slipped in with them as if part of their group. Tranquil music played quietly from the speakers. A hum of voices murmured through the room. A subtle aroma of eucalyptus lingered in the air. He wandered from table to table, worried that one of the nurses would call him out or ask questions, but none did. He picked up a magazine and flipped through it as he made his way to Heather and sat at the table.
He turned the pages, the thin paper sticking to his sweaty fingers, “Hi,” he said.
Not the greatest opening line, but he thought asking her what she remembered about beating Aurora Lahey almost to death in a back alley might be a bit too direct. Although, not that it would matter much. She didn’t seem to notice his arrival.
“She won’t talk to you.”
Tristan jumped at the sound of Heather’s voice and found her staring at him.
Then she blinked. Her eyes seemed to gather some focus. She reached down and pulled up her pant leg. A Mandatum tracker was strapped around her ankle, a red light blinking. Heather fiddled with it, then scratched the skin around and under the mechanical device.
She inclined her head toward the girl at the other side of the table. “Jane. She doesn’t talk. To anyone. Ever. Only draws.” Heather’s words were slow, measured, and somewhat slurred. “Right, Jane?”
Jane picked up another crayon and kept scribbling.
“That’s okay,” Tristan said. “You and I can talk.”
Heather stared at him for a long moment. “About what?”
“How about your doctor? Jones, isn’t it? Do you know her first name?”
Heather’s eyes drifted off to the side. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, sure. When was the last time you saw her?”
“Last week?” Heather frowned. “Last month?”
Tristan grimaced. She was as bad as advertised. He glanced around. No sign of the big nurses. Yet.
“Does Doctor Jones come for your treatments?”
Heather shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“So maybe she’s here now,” Tristan said. “Since you’re supposed to get a treatment today.” He needed to call the Hex Boys. This could be their first real opportunity to find the elusive Dr. Jones.
Heather hugged herself and shook her head. “No. I don’t want one. Please. No, no, no.”
As Tristan moved to put a reassuring hand on her arm, the other girl at the table, Jane, ripped out several pages from her sketch book, slapped them down, and started on another drawing. Tristan glanced at the pictures. And did
a double take. They were all of the same thing.
He pulled the papers toward him. Sure enough. It was Aurora’s necklace. The umbra stone that Rose – or Eros, Greek God/Demon of Love – had given Aurora. Tristan picked up the pages for a closer look, wondering how and what Jane knew about the stone.
Jane saw Tristan looking at her drawings. Her eyes opened wide. Something rumbled low in her throat. The sound rose in volume until Jane opened her mouth and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Then she lunged across the table, clawing at the papers.
Everyone turned to look. Tristan released the sketches.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Shhh. Please. Be quiet. I’m sorry.”
But Jane’s screams continued. She gathered up the drawings and crushed them to her chest. Heather kept staring into space, unperturbed, but other patients pressed their hands over their ears and cringed. Many of them started screaming too.
The attending nurses tried to calm the chaos. Several of them spoke into their wristbands and headed toward their table. Tristan got to his feet.
“I don’t know what happened,” he said, backing away as the nurses got close. “I didn’t do anything. I swear.”
“Perhaps you should go, sir,” one of the nurses said, practically having to shout to be heard over the din. “Someone call Doctor Buttefield. Jane needs her ASAP!”
Several patients cried and wailed, some began throwing things. It quickly turned into a melee. The nurses had no luck soothing Jane or the rest of the patients.
Two massive male nurses rushed in from the hallway.
Heather’s bodyguards looked even bigger than Tristan remembered from the security monitors.
The two men looked straight at him. Panicked, Tristan’s head swiveled back and forth searching for a new exit. He spotted one and ran. Just as he reached it, the door opened. Another massive male nurse filled the doorway. Tristan had a brief moment to see his nametag.
It read, “Tank.”
In the flesh. A lot of flesh. All muscle.
With no way to get past him without a bulldozer, Tristan started to use his power to convince Tank to move, no longer worried about using his abilities, just desperate for escape. But before he could get into the man’s head, someone flung a white Novo jacket over Tristan’s shoulders. He looked back and wanted to scream. Another of Heather’s monster truck-sized nurses had snuck up behind him.
The man’s lips twisted into an ugly smile. He grabbed Tristan’s arm. “So happy we finally found you. Let’s go back to your room.”
The nurse next to Jane looked confused. “He’s a patient?”
“What? No!” Tristan said and began to struggle, but immediately felt a sharp, painful prick on his neck. His hand tried to swat at the spot, but the needle had already been withdrawn.
“Yeah, we’ve been looking for him,” Tank said.
Tristan wanted to shout, but his mouth only let out a weak, unintelligible mumble. His mind told him to fight, but his muscles refused to cooperate. His powers faded as his vision blurred and body slumped. Everything began to shut down. Although his heart beat at a rapid, panic-filled state.
“I like baseball,” he heard Heather say. “Swing batter-batter swing.”
“Don’t worry, son,” the hulking nurse said. “We’re going to take good care of you. Time for your treatment.”
Tristan felt strong arms around him, then the darkness arrived.
OPERATION:
We Have Meager Emotional Resources
LOCATION:
Grant Residence
Ayden stepped out of the downstairs bathroom in the Grants’ house, fresh from a shower intended to help wake him up so he could be alert enough to check on Aurora through the night. Even on good days she had nightmares. After today’s events at M-Terprises and the warehouse, it was a given she’d suffer another. If he managed to get any sleep, he’d probably have a few bad dreams of his own. He already had too many visions of her bullet-riddled dead body.
Wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, he walked down the hall and into the kitchen toweling off his wet hair.
“Hey,” said Matthias as he puttered around the stove.
Five mugs sat on the countertop. Matthias spooned Milo powder into each, then poured hot milk from a pot on the stove into each mug.
Ayden knew that while he appreciated having the ready-made Milo in the cans at the Ishida’s house, the Aussie preferred making it with the powder. He also knew that Matthias had it every night before bed. A routine he never missed if he could help it.
Ayden started to smile, then felt a twinge of worry. “Why aren’t you at the Lahey’s? We agreed it was safer with you there. Although I still think I should be the one who—”
“Spends the night with their daughter?” Matthias smirked.
Ayden smirked back. “Not what I meant.”
“Sure, but we’ve been over this. Her parents wouldn’t be too keen on the idea, so quit trying to sail that ship. It’s sunk. And don’t worry. I’m heading back.” He stirred the liquid in each of the mugs. “I just needed a break. Mrs. Lahey won’t let me cook anything, and I just found out she even ordered me more Milo. Who does that?”
“Nice people,” Ayden smiled. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Figured after the day we had, you guys could use some too, since I’m such a generous mate and all. Plus, I wanted to tell you I’d take over tonight.”
“Take over what? Wait. I should probably have an energy drink instead. Or maybe I’ll make some coffee.”
“No, drink this.” Matthias handed him a mug. “It will help you sleep. You’re totally knackered. You haven’t had a full night’s sleep in days. If not weeks. You need it if you’re going to be able to handle demons and keep your girlfriend out of her usual trouble. So tonight, I’ll watch over Aurora instead of you.”
“Yeah, right,” Ayden snorted. “You’d send the demons a written invitation to take her out.”
“I mean it,” Matthias said. “I saved her at the warehouse. I’m staying in the house, which by the way, is a bloody madhouse. I know what needs to be done. She’s the Divinicus Nex, and we are sworn to protect her, whether we like her or not.”
“She’s more than just an assignment,” Ayden said. “At least to me. And the rest of us.”
Matthias rolled his eyes. “I know. And today was a tough one.”
“Tough?” Ayden tossed the towel on the countertop. Just thinking about the day started the heat prickling on his skin. “That’s understating it a bit, don’t you think?”
“She’s alive.” A mixed blessing, but Matthias knew Ayden saw it differently. “And to help keep her that way, you need to get a grip. I mean, think about it, you had a gun today. That’s not how we’ve done things for…forever.”
Ayden gave him an irritated squint. “Who told you I had the gun?”
“Why? Were you planning to keep it a secret? Is that where we’re at now? You doing things behind our backs? My back?”
After a few moments, Ayden’s ire ratcheted down. “No,” he said, then wrapped both hands around the warm mug and took a sip.
“Good,” Matthias nodded. “Because that’s not being a team. And that’s how we all get killed.”
“I put the gun back,” Ayden said, defensive.
“Let’s hope so. You’re not a complete bloody idiot.” Matthias paused for effect. “Yet.”
“Gee, thanks.” Ayden gave him a look, then saw the twinkle in the Aussie’s eyes and had to laugh. “Okay, fine. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
They sat in silence for several moments. Matthias sipped his drink.
Ayden sipped too.
“Good batch,” Ayden said, lifting the mug. “I always like the crunchy bits on the top.”
Matthias nodded. “Thanks. It’s how my mum always made it.”
They kept sipping.
After several moments of more silence, a sigh esca
ped Matthias’ lips. He really wasn’t good at this. “I know this thing with Aurora, it’s a struggle for you.”
Ayden stared at his friend for a long moment, wondering how much to say. Wondering how much Matthias really wanted to know. Then he raked a hand through his damp hair.
“When I saw that Ted guy holding her. All the guns pointed at her. And then the car, with bullets, I just…” Ayden closed his eyes, his face contorted in misery as he relived the scene in his mind.
“I get it.” Matthias took another drink. “So let me help. One night. Trust me. I can handle it. Besides, I can always call Jayden for backup. He’ll be up all night anyway trying to crack Aunt M’s code.”
“Great. You and Jayden. The two least emotionally adept of the group.”
“I could take serious offense to that, mate,” Matthias said. “If it wasn’t true. But come on, give us a chance. If the two of us emotionally deficient blokes pool our meager emotional resources, I’m sure we can come up with enough emotion to pull it off.”
“Maybe,” Ayden said. “But it’s not just protecting her. The nightmares are getting worse. If she has another one, she needs comfort more than protection. Can you handle that?”
“Ugh,” Matthias said dramatically. “That might be asking too much.”
Ayden scowled, slammed his mug on the counter, splashing some over the rim, and got up to leave. “Forget it.”
“Sorry.” Matthias grabbed Ayden’s arm. “Come on. I was just kidding. Look, you’re my brother and because she’s important to you, she’s important to me. You’ve had a hell of a day. Seeing her with the Suburban shot to bits was unnerving. Even for me. But you haven’t been at your best lately.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Ayden sounded tired and frustrated. “I understand I’ve got to get a handle on this. And I’m trying. I was talking things over with my dad because he’s had his fair share of worrying about Mom. But then they both had to leave, and I can’t even call him on the phone.” He sat back down and dropped his face in his hands with a groan. “This sucks.”
“Well,” Matthias shrugged. “It is Aurora, so sucking isn’t a surprise.”
