[Gina Mazzio RN 01.0 - 03.0] Bone Set

by JJ Lamb

When she finally calmed down and started to move again, something soft brushed against one ankle, then the other. She jumped, let out a yelp, and slapped a hand across her mouth. She held her breath and looked down into the shining green eyes of a cat rubbing against her leg. It meowed, wanted to be petted; Gina waved it away.

  She continued edging her way down the corridor, which began to curve. Judging from the distance and the location, she knew that she must be circling one of the huge boulders visible outside facility.

  Ahead, she heard a buzz of voices. She needed to get much closer to hear what was being said. The cat continued to follow her, causing her to trip over it; she tried shooing it away, but it kept pace, moving between Gina’s legs.

  * * *

  “What is the matter with the two of you?” Ethan said when Rocky and Pete arrived with the gurney. “You’re more than twenty minutes late. Do you think I can stand here the whole friggin’ night waiting for a couple of losers to get the job done?”

  “It’s not exactly a walk in the park,” Rocky said.

  “Did I say it would be easy when I picked the two of you out of the gutter for the job? No! I said it would be damn hard … you signed on … and now I expect you to get the job done.” Ethan spoke to them like they were stupid delinquents. “Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

  “Yes, Dr. Dayton,” Pete said.

  “Yeah,” Rocky said. “I got you.”

  “Good! Now put her up on the table.” He stepped back and watched. “I hope you didn’t get her all riled up—I told you before, it screws up my analysis.”

  The two of them lifted Rhonda from the gurney, placed her on the stainless steel table, and shoved her head smack against the top edge.

  “Don’t stand there like two wooden posts. Wait outside until I call for you. For Christ’s sake, do I have to tell you the same thing every single time?”

  * * *

  Gina identified the voices of Pete and Rocky; they were coming her way. She turned to backtrack down the corridor, almost went flying over the cat again. It screeched, clawed at her leg, hooked into her denim jeans. Gina whirled around, the feline still hanging from her pants. She grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and yanked it away from her. The cat stiffened in panic, the claws not only ripped the fabric, but it sank its teeth into her flesh. Gina swung her arm back and forth and finally tossed it far down the hallway.

  The cat had not only gored her leg, it also had hooked a claw deep into her arm. She bit back the pain, but she still felt as though she’d been torn apart.

  She started to head back to the stairwell, but saw she’d misjudged the distance—it was much farther than she remembered.

  * * *

  “There’s somebody else down here,” Pete yelled. “Did you hear that?”

  “Don’t get your bowels in an uproar. They keep a bunch of cats down here. They’re probably wandering around fighting over some pussy.” Rocky roared with laughter.

  “Cats?”

  “Cuts the rat population. Boy, are you stupid,” Rocky said. “Don’t you know nothin’?”

  “I know enough to check out that noise.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay, let’s go. I’m bored standing around anyway, doing nothing but listening to you jabbering like a dork.” Rocky stretched his neck form side to side, flexed his arm muscles. “This is the shits, man. I’d planned on a little visit to the Starlight Ranch tonight. Was gonna get my rocks off with some hot bitch. Then good ole Ethan fucked that up.”

  “Man, is that all the faster you can move?” Pete said.

  “You keep yanking my chain and you’ll see how fast I can move to beat the shit outta you.”

  * * *

  Gina heard Rocky, Pete, their gruff voices getting louder, closer. She could almost hear them breathing. They were going to catch her. Fear shook her, screams jammed in her throat.

  What would they do to her?

  Sweat and blood soaked her clothes … her leg was on fire … shooting sparks burned holes in her flesh.

  Need to move … can’t.

  * * *

  Ethan’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Hey, where the hell are the two of you?” There was disgust in his voice. “Can’t even do a simple thing like wait?”

  “Be right there, boss,” Pete yelled.

  “Do you always have to lick his ass like that?” Rocky said, turning around. “It kinda makes me want to puke.”

  “He’s the man with the bucks, bro,” Pete said. “Ain’t that why we’re here … why we came to Nevada?”

  “Maybe you’re not so dumb after all.” A harsh laugh echoed down the corridor. “Except for making me chase after some cat in heat.”

  * * *

  Gina let her breath out, heard their voices start to fade as they moved away from her and back down the corridor. She hugged herself as she bent over, fighting spasms of pain that made her want to retch.

  When she was able to stop shaking and think again, she limped, slid along the wall until she was once again at the stairwell.

  Chapter 19

  Gina tiptoed into the apartment, closed the door with a careful click, and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the light, stripped off her clothes, sat on the toilet lid, and examined the claw marks on her leg.

  No wonder it burned like hell—they were raw and deep. The cat had really done a number on her. There was a stabbing pain all the way from her calf to her thigh. And her arm, though not as bad, still hurt and had bled profusely. She could barely lift it—it weighed a ton.

  “Jesus, Gina! What happened?”

  She jumped when Harry’s voice cut into the silence. She was so focused she hadn’t heard him come into the bathroom.

  “Did you know they have watch cats in the basement?” She tried to treat it lightly, not turn it into a big deal, but she couldn’t stop the tears from gushing down her cheeks.

  Harry held her in his arms, just letting her sob until she quieted down.

  “Tell me about it, doll?” He caressed the back of her neck, rubbed her back.

  She’d done it again, done something stupid, done something that could have gotten her into real trouble. That she’d barely escaped discovery only made her realize how terrifying the whole experience had been.

  “I know I promised, Harry.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “But I had to know what the rest of the lower level was like.”

  “Sort of a case of curiosity killed the cat,” he said with the hint of a smile.

  “Obviously not the one that clawed me half to death.”

  “Let’s get these wounds cleaned up.” He reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant, dressing supplies, and antibiotic ointment, set them on the edge of the washbasin. He went out and grabbed a kitchen chair, brought it back, and sat it down next to her. He washed her leg with warm water, then did the same for her arm.

  “Man, this cat was definitely in attack mode,” he said. “You must have the scared the heck out of that poor kitty.”

  “Poor kitty? Scared it? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m the one who’s all ripped up.”

  “When was your last tetanus shot?”

  “About a year ago. I’m okay with that.”

  “Okay, so while I do the nurse thing on the nurse, tell me exactly what you’ve been up to. And don’t leave out a single thing.”

  * * *

  “You took a terrible risk,” Harry said, putting the chamomile tea bags in their cups.

  “I know.”

  “What do you think Ethan was doing down there?”

  “I don’t know. I never got close enough to see. Pete and Rocky were almost on top of me when they were called back. Thirty seconds more and it would’ve all been over.” She ran both hands down the length of her face. “That’s what I keep thinking about.”

  He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Why couldn’t you just let it be?”

  “I don’t always have logical reasons for the things I do.
I’m not like you. I guess I can’t stand not knowing or understanding every part of an unknown equation. I hate feeling helpless and … and … used.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Don’t you understand? I want things to be right. I don’t like to see people hurt and I really think the patients in this place are in danger.”

  “I know there’s something wrong here, but, in danger? Are you sure you aren’t overreacting?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that when something is wrong, or I feel people … patients … are at risk, I have to act, do something. But everything I’ve done here has been a waste, right from the start, especially sneaking down there, trying to find out what they’re doing. It was all wasted. I didn’t even get close enough to see or learn one damn thing. Nothing’s changed, other than I’ve been clawed to shreds, and we still haven’t found out what Ethan’s doing down there, or even what he’s up to. The only thing I know for sure is that this isn’t what we signed on for.”

  “You know what?” Harry said, a worried look on his face.

  Gina gave him her attention, but was silent.

  “What I think is that we should pack our bags and get the hell out of here ... git while the gittin’s good. This place, this job, was completely misrepresented by the nurses’ agency, and Comstock Medical, as well. Shit, there’s no drug study going on here. We’ve both discovered that.”

  “But what about the money?” Gina said.

  “It’s not worth it. We can’t spend the next three months working under these conditions.”

  “And the patients? Do we just leave them? They’re at the mercy of these people … so vulnerable. What’s going to happen to them?” Gina turned away. “Don’t you think we have to find out what’s going on … for them?”

  “There are only two of us. What do you think we can do? It’s like jousting with windmills.”

  Gina smiled. “You and Don Quixote. You’re both my heroes, you know?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to be a dead hero. And I have a hunch we’re circling around a sink hole.”

  Harry poured hot water over their tea bags. They let the tea steep in the two large cups they’d been using for their first-thing-in-the-morning coffee. He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a jar of honey, poured a generous teaspoon into each mug.

  “I did learn something down there: it was definitely Rocky and Pete bringing a patient to Ethan. That much I could figure out from what was said.”

  “But why?” Harry said. “What could Ethan possibly do for a patient in the basement? Don’t you think it’s a hell of a strange place for any kind of treatment … especially at that time of night?”

  Gina took a sip of the tea, pulled away from the scalding liquid. “I wish I’d heard a name or knew which patient was there. That would be something to go on. We might have been able to question the patient later.”

  “I don’t know, doll. I don’t want to scare these poor people. They’re going through enough as it is.”

  “Have you ever seen such severe cases of arthritis?” Gina asked. “Some are so crippled they can barely move. At least half of my patients are that way.”

  “Mine, too.” Harry said. “Well, that along with congestive heart failure, visual impairment, and a host of other age-related diseases … it’s damn sad.”

  “And why are the daytime orderlies bringing patients down for treatment at night, or whatever it is Ethan’s doing? Shouldn’t it be the night staff doing that?”

  “That’s how it usually goes down, but the entire facility is so understaffed, it doesn’t surprise me that Ethan would overwork every employee he has. Wait and see. If we stay, we’ll be called in for lots of extra jobs, too.”

  Gina looked at Harry as he concentrated on stirring the honey into his tea.

  He finally looked up at her. “You’re thinking of dragging us further into this, aren’t you?”

  “We have to, Harry. We can’t just leave these people behind.”

  She took his arm and squeezed it. He was disheveled: hair flying in all directions, eyes at half-mast. But there was something so reassuring about him. She was excitable and quick to anger; he was calm and seldom, if ever, acted irrationally.

  He’ll make a great husband, a wonderful father, too.

  That thought struck hard. Suddenly she could barely breathe.

  A baby? That’s never going to happen with me.

  Her mind flashed back to that horrible night three years ago. The night when her drunken husband had not only beaten her, he’d made it so that she’d probably never have a child.

  I’ll never get pregnant—not after what Dominick did to me.

  She thought back to that night—the medical team had saved her life, even her uterus, but no one was convinced she’d ever be able to have a baby. She’d spent a long time trying not to think about it. A lesson she’d learned a long time ago.

  Don’t wish for what you can’t have.

  She’d been telling herself that for three whole years. Harry was probably now part of that same “can’t have” package.

  She watched him sip his tea and finally understood one of the biggest reasons why she’d more than once backed out of marrying him—she would only be trapping him, holding him back, keeping him from finding someone who was not so damaged … emotionally and physically.

  She knew getting him to leave or breaking up with him would have to be done in a logical, constrained manner. The last person in the world she wanted to hurt was Harry Lucke. But, once and for all, she should stop leading him on, allowing him to think they had a real future together.

  But how can I live without him?

  Her heart would be broken and everything inside of her would be empty again—lost and confused, like when she came out of the hospital after Dominick’s attack.

  Still, she had to do this for him. Somehow, when they finished this assignment, he would have to go on without her. And she would have to be the one to bring it to an end, make him walk away. Otherwise, it was never going to happen.

  Chapter 20

  Emma Goldmich lay awake, staring into darkness. She did this every night, waiting for something horrible to happen. From her bed, she could see stars pin-pointed in the sky. They brought none of the wonder she used to have when looking off into the heavens.

  She didn’t know why she was so jumpy or why fear had lodged itself in the pit of her stomach, but she knew it began the first day she’d come to this place so far away from her home and her daughter.

  She shifted ever so slightly, trying to find a comfortable position in her bed. But the tiniest movement made her back feel as though it would snap. Her arms, legs, neck … everything … hurt with such acute intensity, it was difficult not to scream.

  In the past week they’d placed a catheter inside her so she wouldn’t have to get up to go to the bathroom so often.

  “You’re using up too much of our time with all your screaming and carrying on every time you have to get out of bed to pee,” Rocky had told her. “You’re not the only one I have to take care of, ya know?”

  What made him say such cruel things?

  Emma thought about the new nurse, Gina, the one she’d seen for the first time in the elevator when she was supposed to be on her way to have some kind of special procedure.

  She’d been right—something terrible was about to happen … it just didn’t happen then.

  Somehow she sensed, she knew, the new nurse was someone she could rely on. When she’d reached out to touch Gina, the nurse’s hand had been warm, reassuring. What was confusing was that after Gina stepped out of the elevator, Rocky turned around, took her back to her room. No procedure … no explanation. She’d tried to question him, but he wouldn’t say anything … just gave her a strange, disturbing smile.

  Gina seemed kind … not like Delores, who only raced into the room to give her a shot or meds, then disappeared without any conversation. Lately, the medicine barely deadened the aching, or the
stabbing pain that smothered her body. When she first came here, they gave her pills, but it wasn’t long before they shifted to injections. Now, those were as ineffective as the pills had become. All the shots did were deaden her mind.

  Arthritis was not new to her, but it had been manageable up until a year ago when it flared with a vengeance, not long after she entered the study. Since then, the slightest movement was like holding her hand over a flame. She tried to meditate, to mentally reconfigure all her pain into wild sparks of color—orange, yellow, red, purple—that she would splash over a canvas floating behind her eyelids. She’d started doing that when her drifting, unfocused mind wanted to empty itself into dark passages. The swirling colors not only carried the spasms away, it kept her mind alive … kept it from totally dying.

  Poor Tuva! Could never understand why I refused to create the graphic art she loved so much. She thought abstract art was silly, ineffective.

  My practical daughter. My beautiful child.

  Would she ever see Tuva again? Emma wanted to hug her daughter at least once more before she died. That would be very, very soon. She’d overheard Rocky talking to the other orderly, Pete. It was as though she didn’t even exist and couldn’t hear what they were saying. They talked about taking Emma away somewhere. Putting her somewhere else. They laughed a lot about it … and not humorous laughter.

  She couldn’t remember much about her Alzheimer’s days, except for her art … and one other thing—the unrelenting sensation of life pulsating through every part of her. That force had a voice of its own; it wanted her to continue to fight, to live.

  Tonight, she fought hard with that powerful inner being. Tonight, she wanted someone to kill her, take the pain away forever.

  What is there to live for?

  Without her daughter, her heart was breaking. No one could go on with this kind of crushing sadness pulling them down. No one could survive such terrible despair for very long.

  If only she could hear Tuva’s voice one more time. Not to complain. That’s not the last thing she wanted Tuva to remember.

  The nurse interrupted her thoughts by turning on the room’s overhead lights without warning.