by Mary Ramsey
His words cut to my core. “I’m sure your mother will take good care of you.” With a flushable wipe, the kind used for sanitation, I cleaned off his neck and chest. I couldn’t help but marvel as I caressed his skin. Other than his chemo port, Nate’s body was no longer the body of a dying man; he had broad shoulders and a strong, muscular chest. I paused for a moment, tracking the rhythm of his pulse, his breath.
Nate rested his head on my hand. “Sometimes, I feel like It’s you and me against the world.” His head fell limp, followed by his body until he was collapsed in my arms. “If I leave, promise you’ll visit me?”
I couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to be so sick. “I’ll visit you in Missouri. Maybe I’ll move there.” I rocked Nate in my arms, holding him close as I cried. “I’ll marry you and leave this fucked up world behind.” I’d meant to say ‘job,’ but ‘world’ felt right.
“We should get some sleep.” Nate reclined back on the bed, allowing me to rest my head on his chest. I could hear his heart; it sounded so strong. I stroked my fingers down his stomach. Nate had muscular abs that I knew had not been there a few hours ago. He was so beautiful. “Have you heard the joke about the four nuns?”
“I don’t know, my memory’s not what it used to be.” Nate’s smirk said otherwise.
“Well, the story goes: four nuns are at the gates of heaven, but first Saint Peter tells them to confess their sins. The first nun says that during her time as a nurse while caring for the sick and infirm, she once gazed upon a dying man’s genitals. It wasn’t even sexual.” Unlike what was happening in Nate’s ICU bed. “So, Peter tells her to wash her eyes in the fountain of holy water and she can proceed to heaven.” I could feel the movement of his chest, his breath, his heart. “The next nun, she admitted touching a man’s cock. But only while caring for the ill, in service of the lord.” My hand seemed to move on its own, doing something I had only dreamt about.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, “that feels so good.
To touch him was truly awe-inspiring. “Saint Peter told her to wash her hands and proceed into heaven. Then came the last two.”
“I think I remember this part.”
“One nun pushed past the other.” I moved my lips to Nate’s ear, whispering the way a lover would. “When Saint Peter asked, ‘What is the meaning of this?’ the nun replied, ‘I’m not washing my mouth after she washes her pussy.’”
Nate chuckled. “The version I heard in school had ‘ass’ as the punchline.”
I laughed, walking my fingers down his hips, between his legs. He had a large scar from when he took a bullet to the ‘upper thigh.’ He’d been only nineteen, and his squadron hadn’t let him live it down.
I gave it a kiss and a lick. Then I did something truly nasty. I felt so dirty. And not just because I was going down on my best friend—I never had a chance to thoroughly clean up all the vomit. Smoke started to seep in through the vents, but Nate didn’t seem to notice. That, and the smoke wasn’t unpleasant. It was sweet; lavender and lime, it was Lily.
Nate was moaning, a soft, sexy groan. “Please let me kiss you, Raven.”
I stopped what I was doing, letting his moist cock slap against his stomach. “Yes, please.” I could feel the white smoke caressing my skin, coaxing my hands. I cupped his face, kissing his disfigured mouth. I could feel the metal pins in his jaw, the thick scar that cut through his bottom lip. I wanted him to hold me, to fuck me. No, this was stupid! In my head, I was screaming. Then I felt his hand. The crippled hand that he had little to no use of; it was caressing my leg. I pulled away from the kiss ever so softly. “Nate?”
There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. “I-I can feel again.”
I kicked off my shoes then my underwear and we became one. One light, one life, one soul. “I love you.”
My black hair fell over my shoulders, cascading down my chest like a mermaid’s. An odd sensation, given that just moments ago, my hair had been barely long enough to put in a ponytail.
Nate’s lips parted, taking a breath. “In another life, you would have been mine.”
“I am yours now and forever.” I heard the words coming out of my lips. “I’d die for you.” But it was not my voice. “Are you Nate or Kenneth?”
There was silence. The smoke was everywhere. All around me I heard laughter.
“Does it matter?” the reply came from a chorus of voices. Depressed souls who died lonely, angry. They had me on strings like a puppet.
No, it was like a Barbie doll being placed on top of a Ken doll to fuck. And the smoke was the little children laughing at their sick little game. I was his gift, the sacrifice that would bond Nate’s soul to this horrid place.
“It matters.” I needed to plead my case or I wasn’t walking out of that room alive. “Nate,” I said softly as I walked my fingers down his chest. “Do you remember when we first met?”
He closed his eyes and snickered. “Yeah, you were getting bullied by that fucktard of a supervisor. The same shithead that knocked up my wife.”
“You do remember.” I met Nate during my third week of employment. I was sent to clean the floors in the ICU while my supervisor took an extended lunch break. Ten minutes in, I found him fucking a hot brunette in his office. That slut was Gia Greyson, who’d been carrying on the affair ever since her husband started chemo. I screamed and the first person on the scene was Nate. He’d always suspected something. Nate got into a fight with the asshole. Grant Reed, that was his name. Nate broke that fucker’s nose. I think he even fractured his eye socket. All while suffering from the effects of chemo. Nate had pneumonia and a weak heart, so when the police arrived, I was allowed to take him someplace safe.
“We snuck off to the chapel to watch shitty movies.”
“Retro movies; Mad Max, Forrest Gump, Dances with wolves; all the great stories of heroes. Tales of the warrior spirit. I always admired your spirit.” Although we were both barely moving, I knew I was going to orgasm off his cock. “Do you remember what you said to me? We all have our warrior spirit.”
“Nah, I think I said, if someone like me can make it to Master Sergeant, someone like you will make one hell of a nurse. Or a doctor or whatever the fuck you want to be.”
I kissed his lips, looking into his eyes. There was no doubt in my mind, this was the real Nate. “I wanted to fall in love with you from the first moment I saw you.”
The room started to violently shake. I screamed as I felt dust from the ceiling falling onto my face.
Nate put his arms around me. “I’ll keep you safe.”
I had no doubt. The ICU bed was solid, stable. We were nearly on the top floor; even if the ceiling collapsed, we would survive the debris. And then a tree burst through the wall.
I screamed again, burying my face in Nate’s shoulder.
“We need to flip the bed on its side!” Nate shouted over the roar of the storm. “Use it as shelter!”
“What if the floor gives out?”
“Floor’s not going to give,” he said calmly. “But if we fall out the side of the building, that’s a different story.”
“Okay.” I was sobbing.
“Raven, kid, you’re not going to die here.” Nate rolled the bed in the direction opposite the tree. This meant he needed to roll on top of me.
For a moment I savored the warmth of his naked body before the bed fell to the side with a crash. I expected to hit my head, but Nate cradled me in his arms, so all I could feel was him. With our bodies shielded by the bed, we at least were sheltered from the roaring wind.
That gave me peace for all of five seconds.
There was a crash. Nate pulled me close, holding my head to his chest. I could hear a clang and bang of metal. I’d never been in a warzone, but I imagined it was at least the same level of fear and intensity. Then there was silence. Nate’s hands were trembling.
“Raven,” Nate’s voice gurgled. “You okay?”
His cock was still inside me. I didn’t know if he ever got to
finish, but part of me wanted him to. I could still feel his breath. I could feel his heart. And then I saw the blood.
Somehow a piece of metal, what I would later learn was a car door, had cut through the bed mattress, finally embedding itself in Nate’s lung. Blood trickled from his lips onto my face as he gazed into my eyes. “Nate, baby?”
My best friend smiled, revealing a mouth full of blood. “Did you just call me baby?”
I smiled though uncontrollable tears. “I guess I did.” I looked at his throat and laughed. With every word, every breath, I could see blood bubbling through the torn muscles.
“Yes, my darling?” Nate’s disfigured smile drooped ever so slightly. The muscles in his face were becoming paralyzed. Every breath was a struggle.
I dared not look at his body. From where my hand rested, I could feel his ribs, torn skin, and so much blood. “Did you finish?”
Nate chuckled, a deep, jovial laugh. “Fuck yeah, I finished.” He swallowed hard and slowly blinked his eyes. “You can tell my ex-wife I died doing what I love.”
“Came and went?”
“Yeah.” Nate forced out one last smile. “Will you hold me?”
“Of course, baby.” I’d never watched someone die. I’d hoped I would never have to.
Nate started to violently convulse. His eyes blinked rapidly, coming to rest in an open position. The light in his eyes was noticeably gone.
“And yet you’re still here,” said a disappointed voice. It was Kenneth Sugarland. “You’re really going to let him go through this alone?”
I put arms around Nate’s body. He still felt warm. “Go away!”
“I can’t do that, sweetie.” Kenneth knelt down, his transparent form passing through the bed, to reach Nate’s body.
I was screaming, sobbing.
“I still can’t believe you would allow your friend to endure this pain all alone.”
“He’s not alone!”
“Nate Greyson will be leaving this world scared and abandoned.”
“You’re a fucking liar! Nate was never afraid, not of death and not of you!” I screamed as tears choked in my throat.
“Well, let’s see if an eternity as a foot-soldier changes that.” He reached his transparent hand into Nate’s back. With a sickening crunch, he pulled out a bloody mass of flesh, bone, and what appeared to be a white light.
Nate’s body went cold in my arms. His skin seemed to become gray in a matter of moments, and his eyes—oh God, his eyes. What was once blue was now completely black, as if someone gouged them from his face. When I finally was able to pull myself away from Nate’s corpse. Kenneth was gone, but so was my best friend.
A gentle female voice spoke from behind me, “It’s not too late.” I could feel a gentle hand pressed upon my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Lilly.” The ghosts, they couldn’t make me kill myself. But apparently, they could make it take forever for the firefighters to reach the ICU. Rolling Nate’s body, I could see a massive bruise where Kenneth had removed his soul. To the naked eye, it looked like part of the shrapnel injury.
I held him until the fire department arrived. When I was taken out of the room on a stretcher, I finally got a look at the metal door that took Nate’s life. The massive piece would have taken us both if Nate hadn’t moved our entwined bodies two feet to the left. Even in death, he’d never been afraid. I didn’t deserve someone like Nate as a friend.
I sobbed hysterically until I was given an IV drip of a sedative. I awoke in a hospital bed. I recognized it as the local public hospital.
Standing in the corner of the room was a middle-aged woman with long black hair, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Raven Miller?”
“Yes, that’s me,” I answered with a hesitant nod.
“I’m a friend of Nate Greyson. I heard you were the last person to see him alive.”
“I guess so.” Clearly, she wasn’t a cop, but I was unsure of the purpose of the clipboard.
“What was your relationship?”
“He was my friend.”
She lowered her glasses, revealing her sapphire-blue eyes. “Seemed like more than that.”
The sight of her eyes brought about a realization. “I think I’ve seen you before.” Nate did not get many visitors. “Are you his cannabis provider?”
“I work with many veterans on the transplant list from this area.”
“Really?” I felt that the answer made sense. “What was he on the list for?”
“During the early stages of his diagnosis, there was an attempt to get him a bone marrow transplant. But sadly, as his illness progressed, that option was removed. Such a sad story, given that his career as a mechanic likely contributed to the severity of his illness.”
“He told me he was a ground pounder.”
“Nate was on the front lines more often than not,” she said with a shrug, “probably felt like it was his chosen profession.”
Again, her answer rang true. “I never got your name.”
“Abigail, but my friends call me Annie.”
“What did Nate call you?”
“He used my ‘street name,’ all my clients do,” she said with a chuckle.
“What’s your street name?”
“My dad used to call me ‘Annie-May.’ So when I started my work, anime was just coming into style, so I went with it.”
“Your name is Anime? That’s cute.” I could see why she was Nate’s friend. “What exactly do you do for a living?”
“I do good things for good people and bad things to bad people. It’s been my life’s work. I was hoping you’d join me.”
“I just met you.” Now this felt creepy. “Is this because I hung out with Nate?”
“I can feel your aura,” she said with a laugh. “But seriously, after Nate got diagnosed as terminal, he lost a lot of his friends. Poor guy, just cut himself off from the world,” she took a step closer, “except for you. He saw something special in you.” She took a seat on my bed, careful not to sit on my legs. “And so do I.”
We talked for a while about her work and her travels. Although she never enlisted, she devoted her life to the plight of veterans. Although she primarily lived out of a trailer, touring the Southern United States, she also traveled to parts of Asia. She worked with missionaries, government agents and other international organizations. Annie was quirky and fun, like your favorite aunt at a family reunion. Then I had to go and ask the question. “Why veterans? What inspired you?”
Her answer shook me to the core. “My father, Staff Sergeant Kenneth Sugarland.” She showed me a tattoo on her arm; she had his stripes where they would be on a uniform, and above that, an image of the Purple Heart medal.
“Wow.” I was frozen in place, unable to move or speak.
“So, are you in? First stop once I get you out of here will be Dr. Reed and his little whore.” Annie spoke casually, as if this line of thinking was perfectly normal.
I forced a chuckle as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why do I feel like I’d be making a deal with the devil?” Or his daughter.
“Well, the devil was just an angel who was forced to fall.” She reached out her hand. “Take a walk with me?”
“Sure, I guess.” I could feel an IV attached to my arm, but my limbs seemed to otherwise work as normal.
I let Annie detach my IV since it didn’t appear to be administering any medication. Walking down the hallway, I heard people arguing. In the room on my left, a man was cursing, crying. On my right, a woman was screaming. My head throbbed as the sound engulfed me like a warzone. “Are we in the veteran’s hospital?”
“Nope, just your run-of-the-mill public hospital,” she said as we headed to the exit, “a lovely slice of heaven and hell.”
I wanted to run, cry, scream, but instead, I kept walking. When we reached the exit, my hand pressed against the door. I was truly about to leave the hospital with this lunatic while wearing nothing more than a gown and underwear. “Say something about Nate.”
I needed to picture the man who reminded me of everything good in this world.
Annie leaned in close, whispering in my ear, “Nate watched his father die of lung cancer when he was just a boy. It’s why he never smoked, drank or did anything naughty—until he met me. It was also why he enlisted right of high school; there was no money for college, and he needed to support his mother. Along the way, he married his high-school sweetheart, a delightful little angel who said all the right things. When in actuality all she wanted was a free ride until she could find something better.”
“Impressive.” I could feel Nate’s presence; his energy was all around me. “Nate Greyson died for me. He died making love to me.”
“He chose you.” Annie slammed the door open, setting off the fire alarm. “Now run!”
And that was how I found myself standing over the corpse of Gia Greyson and Dr. Reed.
Nate didn’t get me pregnant, but I still have the baby that should have been his.
Chapter 4
My heart raced. I could feel the soldier’s breath hot against my skin. His eyes looked at me with animalistic intensity. I swear he hadn’t blinked for the entire time I was telling my story. God, please help me. I was in tears, truly fearful for my life. “Are you happy now? You know why I took the baby. I’m not a monster! Gia, she was the monster!” No reply, only a cold stare as Adam contemplating his next words.
Adam shook his head and chuckled. “So, what else have you done? After killing a pregnant woman and stealing her baby to raise as your own. What else did Annie make you do?”
“What did Annie make me do?” I jerked my leg, attempting to kick him, but he was physically stronger. All I managed to accomplish was a muscle cramp in my ankle. “I liberated a cult, took down a potential dictator, I saved a young mother from her abusive husband, just to name a few.”
“You think this is a job interview or something?”
“We did a lot of things!” I forced myself to spit in his face.
“Let me guess: it was all for the greater good?” he asked in a mocking tone.
