Bottled Abyss

by Benjamin Kane Ethridge

  She slowly headed down the hall and stopped at the boundary of the identical lobby for Ward C.

  Square one…

  This lobby’s similarities almost made her dizzy, as though she’d walked in a circle. In the far corner there was even another old couple here, except the man was exceptionally fat, fast asleep and snoring, and the woman cross-stitched what looked like an image of a Coors Light beer mug.

  Janet leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Who was she fooling? She hadn’t expected to get into Ramirez today anyhow. This was reconnaissance. There was no telling what she’d be able to accomplish, even if she managed to get into the other ward. Her thoughts dissolved into retreating. She could go downstairs to the LearningCenter, thank Stacy for the tour and come back another day.

  She edged off the wall. Froze.

  But really, what did it matter if it was today, tomorrow or next week? She was here. She could do this today. If she returned to her hotel and sat there with Lester, only to wonder how this day could have been, it would drive her more insane than she already was.

  The Ward C lobby became more crowded the farther she ventured inside. Just to the left of a windowed garden area, a short hall littered in health flyers led to the interior ward. Janet approached the door warily. Josue Ramirez was somewhere on the other side. Guarded too, she reminded herself. Can’t climb a wall until you see how high it is. Herman used to tell her that. He’d been relating it to weightlifting but it applied here as well.

  Janet casually picked up the phone. The other end rang two times. “Good afternoon,” a voice said. “Can I help you?”

  Janet hesitated with a grimace, then slowly leaned into the speaker. “Hey, this is Stace! Can you please—let me in pretty please?” Janet’s imitation was as loud and wild as she could muster. A few people in the lobby looked her way.

  The other end of the line crackled with static. The white noise rippled between her and them. It might have been only seconds, but it lasted forever.

  “Stacy Roberts,” Janet said more softly. She could hear muffled voices discussing something on the other end. Then she added, “From the Learning—”

  “Hi, Stacy.”

  The door buzzed. Janet caught the handle and went inside.

  As with the other ward, a nurse’s station was the central hub of the room. The people behind the glass sat too low and were surrounded by too many computers to see her. A number of visitors walked around too, not to mention more hospital staff. A fine buffer for now.

  Under no delusions she’d be mistaken for Stacy, Janet hightailed it to a visitor’s restroom. The room was angular and cold with white tile and gray grout floors. A textured blue paint slid sideways on the walls. It was supposed to be serene, but came off as a murderous avalanche caught in freeze frame.

  She decided to wait in a stall for maybe twenty minutes or so, just to be certain nobody took her for an imposter.

  She put her purse on the ground. The bottle guhlunked. She wiped off the toilet seat and with reservations, settled down on it. A text message came in suddenly and Janet dropped her phone between her legs. Stacy must have been responded finally.

  Officer Davis’s number…

  Pls keep on the DL. Headed to question Ramirez @ Loma Linda. My detective friend said I could go for study. Let you know everything ASAP. Take care of yourself.

  Janet’s heart clenched with panic. Her numb fingers texted back, Thx.

  She grabbed her purse.

  There was no time to wait things out now.

  A middle aged woman with baggy eyes and a sour looking face walked into the bathroom. She held the door open for Janet, who nodded thanks without making eye contact.

  Outside, a nurse helped a younger man walk down the hall as he perilously grasped his IV stand. Was that him? Janet thought. The man could be considered Hispanic looking, but there were probably numerous Hispanic patients here. She kept walking, all the while fidgeting with her blouse, hoping that would justify her random glances into patient rooms.

  Halfway around the loop, Janet found Josue Ramirez’s room.

  A chair was positioned to the side of the door and a tall, built contract guard in a gray uniform stood just feet away. Contract or not, there was a shiny black gun on his hip. Rent-a-cops with a bite. The guard chatted with a nurse behind the counter. Her eyes busied themselves on a computer screen, but she nodded as he spoke. His voice was lowered, but it carried well enough in the hall.

  Leaning against the chair’s back, a radio with a long antenna had been left behind. It pulsed with sound and random pieces of conversations.

  The guard spluttered. “So then he says my explanation for missing the paperwork is just an excuse…I mean, that paperwork doesn’t even mean anything! It sits in a file drawer. Nobody reads it. It’s not a big deal. Really. Jeez, I can’t take this guy.”

  “New job?” she asked.

  “New boss,” he laughed. She gave a weak smile. “And you know what? The guy has to always talk-up his grandparents and their work ethic. They have a restaurant franchise in Utah,” the guard’s voice dipped even lower, “Mormons I think, or those, what are those people who come to your door?”

  “Jehovah Witnesses…” The nurse vigorously typed something and twitched her nose in mundane thought.

  “One of those two, or maybe they were those hard core Amish type Jews, so anyways, he’s got me good and cornered. He even got on me about tucking my shirt in better. Can you believe that? Like he’s the greatest of dressers or something with that beer gut. But I guess he doesn’t drink.”

  Janet steeled herself and walked past. The guard glanced at her with polite interest. She continued on without hesitation and he turned back to his anecdote that seemed to be nearing its punch line.

  Holding her breath, Janet took the radio’s antenna between her fingers and lifted it silently off the chair. She let the heavy device rest against her leg as she went, not breaking stride.

  She made it to the bathroom again. The sour puss woman from earlier looked up from the sink and Janet acknowledged her. Even the reflection in the bathroom mirror showed a woman in control and confident of her every move. It was an ironic image because internally Janet was in turmoil: her guts twisted, her heart bounced like one of those boxing speed-bags, her blood stung as it traveled through its vessels.

  Can’t mess this up. Can’t mess this up. Can’t.

  In the stall she felt only marginally better. She turned the volume dial on the guard’s radio until it clicked and the green light on top blinked off. She unscrewed the long antenna and stashed the radio in the narrow place between the toilet and wall. She waited until the other woman left and then tossed the antenna in the trash.

  Every little advantage helped.

  She left the bathroom and just about walked straight into the guard. He was in a panic; that much was obvious. His eyes darted here and there and he patted his pants as though something would magically appear there. Janet pretended to go through her purse, looking for something.

  He went back to Ramirez’s room and entered. A couple minutes later he came out, pale-faced. The nurse he’d spoken to earlier looked concerned for him.

  “Not in there either,” he fumed and pointed at the chair. “I put it down right there. I know I did! It was brand new too. I accidentally ran over my last one.”

  The pretty nurse laughed.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Well wait,” said the nurse, “did you leave it in the cafeteria?”

  His face didn’t show that as an option and he shrugged. “Maybe, got coffee earlier, but I went home for lunch…crap. God dang it. I brought the radio back—I know I did. I called Tony for a soda.” He stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “The department’s on the way. Ramirez’s lawyer, too. Frickin’ great. My supervisor was going to call with a heads-up to prepare for an interview. That’s gonna be completely screwed—they have no way of getting in touch with me from downstairs. Tony will have to take t
hem up.”

  “They can just call our station.”

  “Those dummies couldn’t figure that out.”

  “No cell phones?”

  The guard cocked his head. “We’re lucky LW3 still buys our uniforms for us.”

  “They’re just coming to ask questions right?” The nurse noted something more important on her monitor and leaned in to type at whatever it was.

  “I don’t know—that’s the thing. The department is already jonesing to get rid of our contract.”

  The nurse snorted. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a radio. People lose things.”

  The guard growled and ran his hands through his blonde-gray hair. He plopped down in his chair. Janet pulled out a compact and stared at her feral looking eyes, which desperately needed Visine.

  The guard shook his head. “Stupid, so stupid, I’m always losing things. Now it’s going to be my job.”

  “In that case, you better get Tony to cover for you and drive like hell to your house,” suggested the nurse. “Ramirez is in no shape right now to run anyway.”

  “Tony can’t leave his post, and I can’t leave mine.”

  “Because they’ll can you?”

  The guard looked grim. “Yep.”

  “And they’ll can you for losing your radio?”

  “It’s pretty likely considering my last review.” After a moment’s thought, the guard sprung up. “Can you just watch the door for like fifteen minutes while I run down real quick and talk to Tony?”

  “No—I have two alarms going off and I need to see my patients.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  “No problem,” she said with a mocking smile. “And best of luck.”

  He patted his pocket. “Good, I haven’t lost my ID card at least…”

  Janet put her compact away and made her way to the water fountain. The guard was only going downstairs, but this was still turning out better than she could have imagined. She might well have grinned, if not for what she faced next.

  The guard left his post and spoke to a pair of other nurses as he hurried out. The pretty nurse got up and went to check on another patient adjacent to her station.

  Not wiping the water from her chin, Janet took her chance, crossed the hall, drew the curtain slightly, pushed open a door and in the very next moment, she was standing in Josue Ramirez’s presence. From within her purse she retrieved her gloves and slipped them on. Then grabbed the homeless man’s coin from the side pouch.

  Her face warped around the bottle’s glass, watching her every action.

  She approached Ramirez’s bed. There were no other patients in the room.

  Just the two of them.

  FURY

  So groggy—wake up with something in my hand—eyes can’t make it out—fuck my stomach hurts—fuckin’ Vincent, hope he burns in hell with all his whores—what the hell is that—?

  Eyes crack open, lift my hand a bit, see something circular and dark brown, shiny, on my palm—a coin—this medicine must be getting me loopy—

  “Josue Ramirez—” says a voice; it’s female, that one hot nurse—?

  Lean up a bit, eyes so damn heavy, stomach’s twisting, gonna die in this place, fuckin’ assholes—

  “Who’re you—?” I mumble—

  The woman there has long black hair, her eyes are hard, like she’s seen a lot of shit—she’s kind of sexy in a thick kind of way, but she doesn’t look like someone you’d want to cross—she isn’t a doctor and no detective would be wearing that dress—

  “How did you—?—”

  “Tell me where your partner is—” she said—

  Chuckle—it hurts—these people will try everything—they think cleavage is going to make me give up Vincent—? Shit—he’ll cut all their throats and stomp my skull into mush—like Pedro, like Jessica—I’m so sorry bro, so sorry Jessy—Christ, don’t think I wanna live without them—I hate everything—

  It’s starting to piss me off, though—cops keep asking and asking without letting me get better—probably making up shit about my brother and cousin being in that drive-by—tryin’ to scare me—where the hell’s that dumbfuck lawyer—? If Vincent did do that shit, how many of my people do these cops want to see dead—? They need to damn well drop this because it’s egging that bastard on—

  Wanna tell the bitch all this—tell her about the train Vincent would make me and the homies run on a hyna like her—can’t—head’s too fucked up—belly’s about the same—worse—

  “Go away—” is what I get out—

  That coin itches in my hand—I don’t want to drop it though—close my fingers around it—

  “You were in the car when your partner hit a little girl—it was last year—do you remember—?”

  “Yes—” I’m able to raise my voice—“Already told you pricks—leave me alone—” But had I told them that—? Shit, my mind is so fucked—I’m just keepin’ quiet—

  “I’m glad you remember—now tell me the driver’s name and address—I promise I won’t let it kill you—”

  About to ask her what she just said—see something huge step around the curtain—oh holy shit, what the name of God is that thing—? This medicine’s giving me images or something—flipping out, that’s what happening—these cops drugged me and now I’m losing it—but don’t feel high—feel sober, just tired, and that thing is real, how though, how is that thing, it looks like a damn dinosaur with Jaws’s head—its teeth, oh please mother of God, it’s getting so close to me now, leaning over the bed— the woman seems afraid of it too—it isn’t just my hallucination—no—

  “What were three are now one, and I am Fury—”

  The creature has a giant split through its gray head that goes everywhere like a cracking egg—blood leaks out, some of it down over the side of its face and colors its teeth red—the scaly hands look broken, like they were crushed with a hammer over and over again—

  “The shit are you—?”

  “You have a chance to stay my vengeance,” says the Fury—its voice sounds eager, like it really would like to hear my answer— “Do you know the song? The song my heart wants so badly to hear—?”

  “Tell me about the driver—” the woman demanded—“I’ll call the monster off—I promise—”

  Nodding—shit if the police have made all this up, then damn, they got me—holy fucking shit—“Okay, okay—Vincent Baker—Meade Apartments on the corner of H and Elmwood in Riverside—don’t know if he’s still there, but he likes how cheap the rent is—”

  The Fury leans over me—“Do you know the

  song—?” it asks again, breath like rotting chicken guts—

  “His apartment number—?”

  “I don’t know—! Two hundred something—”

  The woman lifted an eyebrow—

  “Two-eleven—!”

  Notice my voice is raised, but not by much, I’m whisper-shouting, room is getting dizzy, feel like I just chased the dragon or something, haven’t had Horse in so long, only did it twice, was lucky, scared of it, quit when Mamacita found out, so ashamed, so very sad she saw me like that, could never let her think I was dirt like my cousin Jessy—

  The Fury gasps for air—see a mouth move deep in its throat—“Justice, served—”

  The woman had been waiting, goddamn her, not lifting a fuckin’ finger to get rid of this thing like she said, but now she’s trying to open my fingers— she’s wearing gloves and the leather burns my skin, she’s never gettin’ my fingers open though, wouldn’t happen, not opening them, never, not losing the coin, my coin, its mine, belongs to me now—my strength is giving though, fingers are coming undone, Christ I feel so loose, so high—the coin dissolves in my hand and grows inside my mouth, can taste its metal on my tongue, I’m still frightened, hear something click in my mind, the memory of a sound, like the hammer of a gun cocking—something smacks into my head hard and I watch blackness clot on the ceiling and cover everything.

  3

  Janet stare
d at the wide flourish of blood across the back wall and across Ramirez’s IV stand. The back of his head had blown apart in big and small pieces alike, leaving an enormous crater of an exit wound, but there was no visible hole in the wall behind him. There hadn’t even been a sound. His head just snapped back, blood misted over his pillow and a penny-sized wound revealed itself over his left eye. It was as though the idea of a bullet had killed him, not an actual slug.

  That homeless man hadn’t been in danger of overdosing after all…

  Janet stripped off her gloves and put them in her purse, then hurried over to the door and moved the chair. She stepped out into the small vestibule and peeked around the blue curtain. The coast looked clear. Looked like, anyway.

  She glanced back through the door into the room. The Fury had vanished.

  A jolt went through Janet as she felt the passing. This one entered her body more violently and rambled through like a ghost clothed in hot needles. She could taste blood in her mouth and her muscles became sore and watery.

  She processed it, sucking a breath of air between her teeth. So be it.

  Entire body trembling, Janet took another peek out the curtain. The nurses didn’t have their attention this way. She was about to move out when the lobby door opened.

  Officer Davis accompanied a tall bald man dressed in a shirt and tie and a lean, white haired man in a suit.

  Janet looked helplessly back into the hospital room, now a gory aftermath. Instinct called for her to hide but her mind shouted at the stupidity of such a move.