She felt his hands, cold, on either side of her face. With all the energy she could muster, which wasn’t much, she fought against him seeing into her when he lifted her face to look in her eyes. All she could do was glance away and pray that the tears didn’t fall in fat, rolling drops and embarrass her.
“Okay. But you stay awake until we get to the medication tent.” He stared right into her eyes, waiting for her to make visual contact and acknowledge what he’d said. But then he slapped her cheeks a little bit, jolting her. Jillian wanted to be mad about it, but knew that the startle had woken her up, just a little.
His hand encompassed hers and, without looking back, he pulled her one shuffling step at a time to the meds tent. Her butt immediately located a chair that was upholstered but still remarkably hard. Government chair. The words flitted through her brain as she slouched into the corner, waiting while he checked the meds. He kept up a steady stream of chatter, but she couldn’t have said about what.
When her brain worked enough, she threw in an “uh-huh” or “mmmhmmm” and he didn’t slap her again so she guessed she had him fooled. The poles of the tent came up slowly behind her, cradling her head and making the chair just the tiniest bit comfortable. Comfortable enough. Tension drifted from her shoulders as she thought of fluffy beds and hammocks on beaches. The ocean sounded so soothing, and she inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent and the heat of the sun rising in front of her.
Shit.
Someone was upset.
Jordan was upset.
But the sunrise was beautiful and the day was so warm. Her hammock swayed in the heat. All was orderly until a fly began to buzz in her face. She waved it away, swatting at it haphazardly, but thinking that it was surprisingly heavy when she did hit it.
Something landed on her arm, and in curiosity she turned her head down to see a large chameleon. It was purple and slow moving and made her smile.
Until it bit her.
“Ow!”
“Jillian!” Jordan’s voice was in her face. And as she blinked she realized that his eyes were too.
A panic attack overtook her, her hands shaking, her breath pushing in and out far faster than her usual eighteen breaths per minute. Her eyes scrambled through the scene before her, searching for some sort of purchase, some reason for the growing dread.
But there was nothing of concern. The space heater sat directly in front of her, its warm glow heating her face and chest and leaving her back feeling chilly.
“Jillian.” Again Jordan’s face swam before her. “I gave you some adrenaline to snap you out of it.”
That explained the panic attack. She would feel all the effects because of the medication, but her brain had back-figured that, if she felt it, she must also have been alarmed. She managed to slow her breathing for the most part, but couldn’t stop the shaking in her hands. Then the damn chameleon bit her again.
As she looked down at the little fucker, she realized that Jordan had a second needle in her arm. It wasn’t much more than a sting once she had identified it.
He quickly removed the needle and shelved the medications, letting her sit through the seeming eternity while he did all of it in close to slow motion.
Jillian knew that she was experiencing the adrenaline the same way people felt in the middle of a car accident, that time stretched and they could stop and think things through. She almost laughed as she realized that he had simply medicated her to feel like she was awake for a long time. In reality, the adrenaline would wear off soon and she would slip back asleep.
But he had given her something else, too . . . he had explained it while he shelved the medications. She could dig that much out of her memory, but she couldn’t remember what he said he had given her. Truth be told, she didn’t really think she cared, just as long as it worked.
The palm of his hand swung squarely into her field of vision, and it took her a moment to realize that he was offering it to her to grab. She latched onto it, and before she realized what was happening, he had used her own grip against her to pull her to her feet and haul her behind him.
“It’s time we went to go check on David again.”
Jillian agreed, but was too strung out to say so. She found herself able to perceive the cold, but not care. If her jacket had fallen off she would have simply shrugged and gone on walking through the frigid air, leaving it in the grass behind her.
“I’m not leaving you for a moment, Jillian. I don’t trust you not to pass out like you did in that chair. You scared the shit out of me.”
Again she nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. Not when he was walking at a brisk pace facing into the night, and away from her, while he kept up his steady stream of talk.
“I also need to be sure that the meds don’t do anything to you. So you won’t be able to shake me for a good while.”
She almost laughed out loud.
And when he turned and looked at her strange she realized that she had laughed out loud. In fact, she still was. From the look on his face Jordan wondered what was so funny, or if she had finally cracked from all of it.
It took effort, against the drugs coursing through her bloodstream, but she formed the words. “Like I could shake you anyway.”
He nodded, his face in an odd resigned expression, and went back to pulling her like a skier through the maze of tents. Why had he made that face? Her own face scrunched up in thought and she tripped over a . . . blade of grass or something. Would she ever be able to figure Jordan out? Probably not. Not completely.
She was just beginning to wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing when she ran into his back. She felt her nose crunch against him. She registered that it hurt, and that her finger had bent, too. She just didn’t care.
She laughed again when the words came out of her mouth. “I am so thankful that I never developed a cocaine habit.”
“Great, you’re high.”
It was just a statement of fact. But Jordan’s exasperated tone made it even funnier. He got into her face again, and she wondered briefly why the hell he kept doing that. When he shook her gently she figured it out for herself. Even in her face he couldn’t quite get her attention. Whatever he had given her sure felt good.
“Jillian. Be quiet. I don’t want you waking David if he’s asleep.”
She nodded. All gravely serious for the one instant that she could hold the straight face without laughing. He pulled her through the tent flap and she ran into the back of him again. With a quick jerk and movements that she couldn’t catalog, Jordan yanked her around in front of him, so her back was pressed against his front, and got his hand clamped over her mouth. With all that restraint, her eyes focused and she saw what he saw.
David, passed out cold.
She shook off his arms, and walked forward, her focus entirely on the man lying on the gurney. He was reposed, looking peaceful in spite of the casts and slings. So she did the easiest test she could think of. She reached out to lift his arm.
If it fell, dead weight, back to the mattress that was as good a sign as possible.
But when she grabbed his hand his fingers curled against hers reflexively. Jillian heard that her voice was too loud only after the word had escaped her mouth. “Damnit!”
The touch that he felt on his fingers was enough of an anchor to pull him back. His eyes fought to open, and already he perceived the faint light from the other side of his eyelids. He smelled the tent, felt the sheets, and heard the voice. All his senses were functional, now he just had to gain control and get up.
Funny how the very act of waking up, which he had done every day of his life, was only now something that could be catalogued - something he could control. It seemed it had always just happened before, with alarm clocks or daylight making the decision for him.
As he fought to make his muscles obey, they came into play one piece at a time.
His fingers jerked against the hand that touched him.
“You’re waking up, huh?”
<
br /> His brain recognized the voice, it just didn’t quite place it.
But with a few determined tries David forced his eyelids to flutter then open. They snapped immediately shut, squeezing against the dim orange light thrown by the space heater. He fluttered them again, allowing his pupils to adjust and at last, he managed to focus on the woman standing over him.
“Good evening.”
Becky.
Thank-fucking-God.
He scrambled upright, checking the next most important thing.
Jillian.
His brain registered that she wasn’t in the bed with him, and that he had scrub pants on.
“I moved her, she’s right behind you.” But Becky’s hands pushed him back down. She wouldn’t let him up, and he fought against it, opening his mouth to protest only to realize that he was muzzled.
His hands scrambled to remove the thing that hindered his jaw, but again Becky just pushed his hands away. “Let me check.”
Her face looked sincere, and it was Becky. He didn’t think she could lie about slipping the family dog her broccoli. Deciding he’d have to be a fool not to trust her, David sat back and waited.
Becky kept talking. “The techs told me that if you woke up, I could take the oxygen mask off-” ohhh. “-if you were above 95. And you are. The numbers rose right up while you were waking. So give me a moment to untangle you.” Her fingers worked at the elastic that held the mask onto his face, setting him free of the bindings. “You dropped off pretty fast once you went under. And you can’t run off just yet. No big movements. I have to watch you for at least fifteen minutes to see that you hold that 95 percent.”
Fifteen minutes?
“I can’t have you crashing on me.”
“Thank you.” They were the first words he had pushed out, and as usual they were a little froggy sounding. But he figured that he needed to be nice to everyone, as he had some serious business to attend to. And he wondered if Jillian had already set him free back on the other side, or if he would feel it when it did happen.
“Don’t move too much. You’re still hooked up to IVs and electrodes and such. There’s an EEG and an EKG and pulse oximeter.”
He looked down at his body and saw what looked like a human circuit. Wires and tubes fed in and out of everywhere. And suddenly, his chest and head started itching. Surely it was just perceived sensation from knowing that there were stickers holding electrical contacts on him, but knowing that didn’t make it itch any less.
With a deep breath he decided to do what was needed. He would have to find a way to turn around and look at Jillian, even if he couldn’t do anything about her until the techs and doctor set him free. He could at least start assessing the situation.
Slowly, pulling and tugging wires, he twisted until she was in view.
Jillian was draped peacefully along the gurney. Her hair fanned out around pale skin, her eyes stayed closed and still in a way that could never be mistaken for real sleep. She wore a medical gown, and while he knew she would have hated it, it was far better than lying there naked. With a deep breath, a certainty hit him in the gut. She would die in that gown.
“I untangled you two.” Becky’s voice was soft over his shoulder, and he listened for, but thankfully didn’t hear, any condemnation or rebuke.
“I moved her myself and dressed both of you before I let anyone else in. I figured it wasn’t their business. Or mine for that matter, but . . .”
Her wariness bled through into her speech. And David looked back at her, taking in the soft, droopy red curls, the age that had layered itself onto her face, and the worry that made her look much more adult than the first time he had met her. He didn’t think anyone would mistake her for a kid again.
“Thank you.” He heard the words and the sincerity. And realized that she would get suspicious any moment now if he didn’t get it together and stop being so polite. “So what’s up with Jillian?”
“She’s got lower vital signs than you do.”
He could see the oxygen mask, the IV and all the brightly colored wires. She looked like the bride to his Frankenstein.
David scanned, looking for the rubber covered point along the IV line where nurses could inject medications. Jillian had pointed one out to him when she had explained what to do. His eyes stopped and rested when he found it, just a short ways up the tube coming from her left arm.
He needed to get to the supply tent and find the potassium chloride.
“I don’t know if she’ll be okay.”
That jerked him back. Becky’s face had a layer of worry, and her head shook slowly from side to side.
“Will she die?” Would it all be better if she just died? God, he prayed he didn’t sound hopeful.
But Becky shrugged and didn’t look at him like he was evil incarnate.
He sat, breathing, in and out. Silent while his mind chugged. Becky must have better things to do, but she didn’t budge. Maybe she had promised not just to keep an eye on him but to actually watch his every movement literally until that fifteen minutes was up.
David needed to sort through his thoughts. And he didn’t like her staring at him. Although it didn’t seem there was much he could do about that.
For a brief moment he entertained the thought of bringing her into his confidence. But he squashed that quickly. Becky was too religious to help him kill Jillian. Even if it was what Jillian wished. Even if she would be set free to live elsewhere in the process. He was pretty certain that Becky believed they were getting shuttled back and forth, but he was certain that, if left to chose, Becky would let God handle things.
But God hadn’t handled much in David’s life to his satisfaction, and he wasn’t about to let the big man have another go at it over something this important.
Besides, if he didn’t succeed, Jillian would likely wake up over here, and he had no doubt that she’d have no qualms about killing him for failing. And if the thought of the promised eight surgeries and twenty-four months of physical therapy didn’t terrify him, living with Jordan while Jillian was stranded here sounded even worse.
He sat with his thoughts while Becky sat with hers and watched him. He wasn’t much for prayer, but he did ask that she not be able to read his face. Rebecca Sorenson was probably one of God’s favorites, and He would use her to stop David if necessary.
The tent flap lifted and a physician walked in. David knew he had seen the man before, but couldn’t recall the name. Thank God doctors knew they weren’t memorable and saved everybody time by stitching their names onto their jackets.
“He’s up!” Dr. Lee exclaimed.
Becky nodded, “About ten minutes.”
The doc frowned and both of them knew what he was about to say. Becky cut off the protest. “I was told not to leave him, and no one was nearby. Not to mention, as long as you guys are doing your job, someone will be by within fifteen minutes. Still want to yell at me?”
The snippiness registered with David, making him wonder when she’d grown a backbone. But come to think of it she’d been growing it all along, just like she’d been adding those years to her face.
The doctor shook his head at her. He couldn’t yell. It was a southern thing, David saw, for the women to be able to lay you low and leave you with no good response.
But even if the doc couldn’t give Becky the what for, he could torture David. Coming over he started in with his stethoscope. He listened to David’s chest and back. He held his two fingers over David’s wrist, counting the pulse and feeling for its strength in a way that always seemed vaguely sexual. He was glad when the doc nodded and said he was good enough to get up.
I could have told you that. How many times have you woken from a coma, huh?
The snide remarks churned in his head, and probably across his expression, until the doctor started yanking off the EKG attachments, taking tiny patches of hair with them. “Ow!”
The smile he got said suck it up.
Damn doctor.
After he ya
nked every last sticker, the doctor turned to Jillian, taking stats and jotting things in her chart. Which, of course, he just had tucked under his arm. They were way too technically precise around here. Which was odd, because here and there were really the same place, and he hadn’t seen a single chart on the other side. And he sure had a hell of a lot more to chart over there. The doc scribbled a few things, and David tensed.
But the two fingers against Jillian’s wrist didn’t rouse her. Neither did the thumb raising her eyelid to reveal an unfocused lake of blue beneath. David couldn’t hide his shudder as he wondered if the docs had been doing that to him. The doctor smiled and left. And aside from being unhooked, it was like the man had never been there.
“I guess you’re cleared for take-off.” Becky’s voice interfered with his thoughts again. Bringing him back to the fact that he had to hide what he was going to do.
With his legs wobbling beneath him, she helped him down. He was getting better at it every time. But hopefully this would be the last.
A few precariously balanced steps later he shrugged Becky off and said ‘seeya’ to her startled face. But better that she be pissed than suspicious. He wandered into the cafeteria forcing himself to eat something, even though his stomach rebelled at what he was about to do. All he could even pick up was a bag of chips, and he forced himself to munch them slowly, one by one, while he wound his way back out into the cold day. The red glow of sun hit him where it had made it’s final bid to creep over the tops of the mountains while he had been in the cafeteria.
He tried - tried - to be normal, knew he was an asshole, and tried to put that into his walk. He tried to find the meds tent. And found it exactly where Jillian had said it would be.
David just wasn’t sure how to get potassium chloride out of it without looking furtive. So he headed in, thinking he’d play innocent and act all confused if someone caught him and kicked him out.
The light inside was a too-bright fluorescent, and he was glad. He would be able to read the names on the shelves and bottles clearly. His only concern was that he might be casting a shadow on the outside.
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