by JJ Lamb
And I thought we were being so smart.
They should have realized the bars on the second floor windows, along with all that talk about industrial espionage, meant that Comstock would have an air-tight security system.
“Now that you’re here, we’ll bring you in the back way.” He stepped aside so the two of them could walk into the second-floor patient unit.
Gina wanted to grab Harry’s hand and run, but she was a professional and would stand on her own two feet and do what had to be done. Still, she crushed her thumb and forefinger together—her secret fear neutralizer—and entered the second floor, with Harry close on her heels.
Her mind had conjured dark and dingy rooms and corridors, with patients wandering and crashing into each other like zombies. Or maybe there would even be loud screams of terror.
She’d been wrong about everything.
At first glance, it was no different than most other hospital floors she’d worked on—long corridors lined with rooms that could be closed off with wooden doors for privacy. Soft, classical music floated through the air, making her feel totally foolish for thinking there was something sinister about the place.
Not exactly a snake pit.
Ethan pointed ahead to the nurses’ station. The three of them ambled over to where one of the two husky mop and pail orderlies sat. Close up, she studied this one's large, flat nose and black-button eyes that stared back at her. He was big, his huge shoulders made her shiver.
Steroid freak!
He nodded and gave them what could be considered either a smile or a leer, depending on your point of view. He was sitting next to the floor nurse—middle-aged, dressed in burgundy scrubs, and wearing a very, very tired face.
“Hi. You must be Gina Mazzio and Harry Lucke.” She stood and walked over to them, hand extended. “I’m Delores Scott. Great to meet you. And this is Rocky.” She pointed to the gorilla next to her. He nodded.
“Delores, why don’t you show our new nurses around. I’ll see them when you’re finished.” Ethan walked back down the corridor toward the elevator and turned around. “I’ll catch up with the two of you later in my office.” Before Gina or Harry could respond, he was out of sight.
“So how do you like this gig?” Harry said to Delores the minute Ethan was gone.
Gina noticed Delores’ whole body language had changed to not only wary, but antagonistic now that Ethan wasn’t around. “I’d like it a hell of a lot better if I had more staff, or if those we have weren’t so damned lazy.”
Rocky watched the exchange with an empty look on his face, as though he couldn’t have cared less. But his eyes bounced back and forth between Delores and them. Gina could tell he was listening very carefully.
Mmmmm. Looks like a dork but there’s something more going on there.
“You can make a lot of money,” Delores continued. “And other than the killer hours, how bad can it be?” She paused. “Well, there is the fact that the patients are … let’s just say … a little loopy.”
“Ah, loopy? A brand new medical term." Gina forced a laugh.
“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Delores walked down the hall; they followed close behind. The first stop was a glassed-in spa that held a small hot tub and massage table.
Harry and Gina opened the door; steam drifted up, filling the room; the air was heavy with the moisture. Gina smiled at Harry. Being on the unit, in the actual work place made her feel more assured about the whole assignment. After a twelve-hour shift, this could be just what they’d need to become human again.
“Hey, does the staff get to use this?” Gina said laughing.
Harry smiled. “Pretty classy. Don’t see these very often in hospitals.”
Delores ignored Gina’s question. Instead, she turned to Harry. “Well, we’re not officially a hospital,” she said, “more on the order of a rehab facility.”
“Rehab? That’s seems weird,” Gina said, raising an eyebrow at Harry.
Delores again ignored the comment.
They visited some of the rooms; each held a single patient. It was pleasant enough: high ceilings, brightly colored drapes on the windows, matching spreads on the beds, fairly spacious, and generally the kind of upscale environment Gina wasn’t used to seeing in medical facilities.
Delores introduced them to some of the residents, most of the people they met had dazed, drugged looks, and weren’t very responsive.
“These people look absolutely stoned,” Harry said.
Delores laughed. “Not stoned, but definitely heavily medicated.”
“Doesn’t it make it difficult to deal with them when they’re medicated like that? I mean, most of them can’t even talk. Can they answer your protocol questions?”
Delores looked at Gina in a puzzled way. “Didn’t you know?”
“Know what?”
Delores’s face turned a bright red. “I just assumed you knew. It’s not my place to give you the particulars. I’m sure the doctor will explain everything.”
Gina and Harry looked at each other.
“Looks like Ethan continues to have a lot to explain,” Harry said, taking Gina’s hand. “I wonder what other secrets he’s sitting on.”
* * *
They sat across from Ethan in his austere office. After giving them the necessary card keys and setting up their identification information, he ran through the care protocols. Gina was starting to feel very antsy again; she kept tugging at the magnetic ID that they were required to wear at all times. It felt like an anchor chain around her neck.
She could see now why the second floor needed so few licensed personnel. Every patient on the unit was so tranquilized they were more like the walking dead. Well, at least none of them had blood dripping from their teeth. But the barred windows made more sense now―couldn’t have stoned patients climbing out the windows.
“So this facility is participating in a clinical drug study for the treatment of Alzheimer’s?” Gina said. “That’s really fantastic. What health professional wouldn’t want to be a part of something as exciting as finding a real treatment for such a devastating disease?”
“Of course,” Ethan said, nodding like a bobble-head doll planted on a dashboard. “As health professionals, I understand your dedication. It’s plain to me that the two of you are humanitarian types, so the extra thirty thousand for your three-month commitment would have nothing to do with your willingness to stay.”
The words were spoken in a reasonable voice—the kind administrators use when they don’t want to tell you everything. But there was also an undercurrent of cynicism that jumped out and slapped her in the face.
Out comes the viper.
“Don’t hold a carrot out in front of us if you don’t want us to eat it,” Harry said in a crisp voice that Gina recognized as part of his on-going battle with his demons.
“And you think we need to sit here and swallow your cynicism,” Gina said. “We really don’t need your money as much as you seem to think we do.”
Ethan held out his hands, palms up. “I wasn’t trying to put the two of you down. I’m sorry if you took it that way.”
Gina looked at Harry; he stared back at her. She was ready to walk, had been from the moment the Jeep edged down that creepy driveway. But travel nursing was Harry’s career choice. Any final decision would have to rest with him.
“So far, this has been a pretty hostile environment,” Harry said, obviously still pissed with the administrator’s jab at their motives for taking the job.
Gina couldn’t stop herself. “Why are the patients we saw so …” Gina waved her hands around trying to find the right word “so … neutralized? How can you evaluate the efficacy of any new drug, especially one for Alzheimer’s dementia, with people who can barely talk?”
“These patients are no longer receiving Zelint Pharmaceutical’s new drug.”
“What!” Gina knew her eyes must be bugging out as she gaped at the man. “So they were on the drug but they aren’t any more?
”
“That’s correct,” Ethan said.
Gina could barely breathe; she might as well have been back in the mine Harry had taken her into. “Why?”
Ethan stood and walked to the window. He stared outside while the room dipped further into silence. When he returned to his chair, he steepled his fingers under his chin and spoke slowly, as though they were children.
“Every patient who’s accepted into our clinical trials has definitive biomarkers for Alzheimer’s. All have undergone costly testing—spinal taps, positron emission tomography, and on and on. This intense kind of testing costs thousands of dollars for every single individual before they can even become a part of Zelint’s study. And you have to realize, many applicants never become eligible. It’s a costly and highly selective procedure designed to answer specific questions about the safety and effectiveness of the drug designated AZ-1166.”
“All very interesting, Ethan,” Harry said. “But—”
“—but some of this doesn’t make sense, Ethan,” Gina said.
Ethan sat back into his desk chair, leveled his gaze at her and said, “Why would you say that?”
“We all know Zelint is not being altruistic,” Gina said. “There are unbelievable barrels of money to be made if the trials are successful, right?”
“That’s true,” Ethan said. “And even more to be lost if it’s not successful.”
“Then why aren’t these patients receiving AZ-1166 anymore?” she asked.
Ethan shifted in his chair; he couldn’t hide his uneasiness with the question. “There are always some subjects whose response to a test drug … falls outside the protocols of the clinical study. They are considered failures. Simply put, the participants on the second floor are those kinds of failures.”
“Well, what are they doing here?” Gina and Harry said in unison. They gave each other a knowing look.
“They’re being treated for the negative side effects of AZ-1166. Part of Zelint’s contract with the participants is to provide all medical care. We are fulfilling our part of the contract.”
“What kind of side effects?” Gina asked.
“I think all of that will become clear when you read the computerized charts on the floor.” With that, Ethan stood, ending the discussion. “So we’ll see you at seven at the nurses’ station tomorrow morning. And welcome aboard.”
Gina wanted to grab the administrator by the shoulders and shake him until his brain rattled. She and Harry stood and started toward the door.
“Oh, by the way … don’t forget to turn in your personal computers. We’ll hold them for the remainder of your employment at Comstock.”
“What?” Harry said loudly.
“Hey, that’s our property,” Gina added. She felt the bile rising in her throat.
“That’s a helluva lot to ask,” Harry said. “We need to be able to stay in touch with family, friends, and our professional agency.”
Ethan looked from one to the other. There was a hint of a smile.
“Sorry, those are the rules,” he said. “Paragraph three, sub-section B of the disclosure statement you signed today.”
Checkmate.
Chapter 6
They practically flew out of Ethan’s office, caught the elevator to their apartment. Gina’s face was so hot it felt like it was on fire. She headed for the sofa, then changed her mind and paced around the room.
Might as well be back in San Francisco, back at Ridgewood … during the bad times.
The hospital administrator there had done his best to try to get her fired before the two of them finally made peace. If it hadn’t been for the nurses’ union, Gina would have been out the door.
Gina had a reputation for not being silent when bad things were happening to patients, particularly patients under her care. Most recently, she’d risked her life when she discovered her Oncology patients’ treated and stored bone marrow had been stolen and was being held for ransom. Those cancer patients would have died without their treated cells, and the hospital had proved to be more worried about its reputation than in finding the perpetrators.
Did it even matter where she worked? Hospital? Clinic? Freelance? Administrators seemed determined to put her down for trying to do what was best for her patients.
I’ll bet Ethan will be no exception.
Weren’t hospital administrators supposed to be patient advocates, too? Wasn’t that their priority? Maybe not their only concern, but it had to at least be somewhere high up on the list.
Well, sorry. I’ll do what I have to do to protect my patients, even if it means hanging out like a big, fat pimple ready to pop.
“My head is spinning … I’ve got to get out of here,” she said to Harry. “Let’s go for a walk before it gets dark.”
“Slow down, babe,” Harry said. “You know we’ll work it out.”
They stepped into the elevator. She looked up at one of the security cameras—its probing eye looked right back at her. She bit down on her lip and decided she would keep her thoughts to herself until they were outside the building.
The elevator stopped at the second floor. Rocky was waiting with an elderly lady in a wheelchair. He hesitated for only a moment before he wheeled her into the elevator.
“How’s it going?” Harry said.
The man barely nodded. He was definitely uneasy about being in this confined space with them even though it was roomy enough to carry two full-size hospital beds.
The old woman was worrying a locket at the end of a long chain around her neck. She kept turning it with her gnarled fingers and seemed to have no interest in her surroundings. She was in pain—that was pretty obvious. With every movement the lines in her face deepened. Gina reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind the woman’s ear.
The patient looked up with dark, troubled eyes and suddenly grabbed Gina’s hand. The movement made her thin shoulders shiver. “Help me, nurse. Please help me.”
Gina crouched down to eye level. “What’s your name?”
“Emma. Emma Goldmich.”
Rocky wrenched their hands apart and stepped between them. The patient screamed; globs of drool ran down her chin.
“Hey, man. There’s no need for that,” Harry said, his voice low and menacing. But the orderly ignored him.
Gina was stunned into silence. She glared at Rocky; thrust her balled fists into her pockets. At the ground floor, they waited for Rocky to push the patient out first. Maybe he was taking her to the laboratory or one of the other diagnostic areas on the first floor. Instead, he waved a hand, waited for Gina and Harry to step out.
The patient looked at them. “Help me! Help me call Tuva!”
Before they could respond, the door slammed shut.
* * *
Rocky was rattled. He smashed a knuckle into the second floor elevator button again, and then again, stared down the two nurses, who looked at him with puzzled expressions until the sliding door slammed shut in their faces.
“Rocky,” Emma Goldmich said, her pleading eyes looking up into his. She clutched the arms of her wheel chair. “You promised to give me medicine.” She started bawling, blubbered out the words. “Help me. My bones hurt! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!”
The orderly hated the old woman. Her trembling hands were like claws as they reached up to him, and her eyes were crazed like a wild, trapped animal.
It’s her fault that he was in trouble now.
He couldn’t stop himself. He slapped her cheek and said in a low guttural voice, “Shut up! You hear me? Shut the fuck up!”
She whimpered and bent over, rocked back and forth, back and forth, a low hum coming from somewhere down deep in her throat. When the door flung open, he shoved the chair out and down the hallway to the nurses’ station.
Delores Scott was studying her watch, probably counting the hours until she could escape. She looked up at Rocky. “I thought Emma was being discharged? I’ve already packed up her things. What’s going on
?”
“Delayed.”
“I’m glad we didn’t redo her room.”
“Yeah.”
Emma continued to rock and moan, which was creeping him out. He squeezed his hands together to keep from smacking her again. “I’ll take her back to her room, but she needs meds for the pain, or she’s gonna be screaming.”
Delores shrugged, reached into her pocket, and retrieved the keys for the narcotics cabinet.
* * *
Rocky stood outside Ethan Dayton’s office, planning what he was going to say. He couldn’t let Ethan think Petey and him were pushovers, that he could shove them out the door. Their prison records weren’t going to be the man’s ace-in-the-hole.
If the dude thinks he can get rid of us that easy, he don’t know dog shit.
But Emma Goldmich—she’d been a real screw-up.
Oh, yeah!
One thing for sure, he and Petey were never going back to that pen in Carson City. They’d done their time, hard time for a botched up B&E. It may have given him a body of steel but it also left him with a reamed out ass. He’d rather die than be tossed into that hell-hole again.
But that’s not gonna happen. Me and Petey know too much about what goes on here for ole Dr. Ethan to just toss us out.
Besides, he liked this job, and there were not too many good slots around for ex-cons.
He finally knocked on the door and waited.
“Come in!” Ethan was seated at his desk. He smiled, but his gaze was cold and suspicious.
Rocky closed the door behind him. “There’s been a problem.”
“Oh?”
“Emma Goldmich is back in her room.”
“What?”
“The new RNs were in the elevator when I was taking her down. Emma told them her name.”
Ethan jumped up and leaned over his desk. He was practically in Rocky’s face. “Even an idiot would have known not to get on the elevator with those new nurses.”
“Hey! It couldn’t be helped. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t think—”
