The Donors

by Jeffrey Wilson

  The shimmering cave-ceiling came again into view and a horrifying dinosaur head leaned over him, red slit of a mouth open, long teeth wet and glistening. He heard a grunt that may have been him, but probably was the raptor-man. Then the head shimmered and the lights came up and he stared into the glowing red embers of Mr. Clarke’s shadowy eyes.

  “The pain you have felt until now is nothing,” the monotone whisper told him. “We will tear you apart, rip out your organs while you watch and listen, and you will bleed to death as we devour you from inside. You will die only when I say so. Do you understand?”

  The terror consumed him, and he heard Mr. Clarke moan with the pleasure of a man coming; his head tilted back and his mouth split impossibly wide around his long teeth.

  “Yes,” he hissed. “Yes, feed me.”

  He stood up and went out of view.

  “Kidneys first.” He heard Clarke say.

  “Look,” a stuttering voice said. “I think we need to give him a little something. Fentanyl or something—please.” The voice hesitated. “You know he can feel everything, right?”

  The creature’s voice echoed off the walls. “IT’S TOO LATE FOR THAT. GET ME MY FUCKING ORGANS!”

  He felt trembling fingers on his bare belly and his mind jumped at the touch because his body couldn’t. The nurse with the cold blue-green eyes bent over him, her eyes on his, and for a moment she seemed to really see him, but then the moment disappeared and the stones turned cold again. She turned and looked away, adjusting an IV or something.

  He felt a sharp blade on his skin, just below his breastbone and for a moment it hesitated. Then the voice bellowed again.

  “NOW.”

  He felt a sharp, ripping pain move fast from his breastbone downward, stopping just above his dick. His brain exploded with a million signals—half screamed at his body to do something to stop the horrible pain and the other half failed to answer the signals to every muscle in his body to sit up, run, swing arms and legs—do some goddamn thing. Another searing pass of the knife and he felt a terrible pull, a tearing sensation as his belly split apart, and then he felt warm, wet things slide down over his right side.

  His mind screamed at him again as he realized that it was his own guts he felt spew out of his belly onto the bed. The room got dark for a moment and he tried to scramble into the darkness, to pass out or die or anything that would take him away. Then a new pain, a vague and uncertain feeling that seemed hard to localize but came from deep inside of him, brought the light back and he stared through tear-filled eyes at the ceiling again.

  “Can you pull the colon over out of the way?”

  “How’s that?” Another ripping pain accompanied the question. He felt his stomach lurch and his throat filled with warm, stinging vomit that spilled out onto his face. It trickled into his right eye and he felt a burning pain from the acidic liquid. Then the pain inside him took over again.

  “Okay, hold that there—perfect.”

  “Can I have a dever retractor?”

  “Here you are, Doctor,” the stone-eyed nurse answered, only her voice quivered now.

  Now that I’m dead, you give a shit? You fucking whore. If I could move I would fuck you to death, you bitch.

  Another shock of pain, like someone drove a sword right through him.

  “You see that bleeder?”

  “Just leave it.”

  “Let me have a bovie. Here, help me get in behind here. See the hilum?”

  “Clamp,” the shaky man’s voice said. “Put it across the vessels, there.”

  “Scissors.”

  “Got a kidney coming out.”

  A short, sharp pain inside and then it felt like a small animal was moving around inside of him. He could see nothing out of his right eye and his left looked blurry, filled with tears. The voices faded farther and farther away, and Steve knew where he was going. He felt incredibly weak, but became aware that his right foot rocked back and forth in response to every shock of pain from inside him. He balled up his fists, but his arms were too weak to rise. He strained with all his might and just barely lifted his head out of the wet dirt, his eyes wide, and looked downward in terror, knowing what he would see.

  One of the dinosaur heads was buried snout-deep inside his belly. His intestines lay curled in a circle beside him and his belly lay split wide open, gaping up at the ceiling. He felt a terrible ripping pain and then the face came out of his belly, a dark purple, crescent-shaped hunk of flesh in its long teeth. He screamed as the beast tilted back its head and greedily ate his left kidney.

  “NOOoooo!” His screams echoed away and he squished his eyes closed when the other creature bent over, hesitated a moment, then shoved its long face deep inside again.

  He lay back, eyes closed, and let out scream after scream, just as the creatures had promised.

  Chapter

  12

  The voice sounded so real that Jason looked around to see if the anesthesiologist might have heard it. The man still looked bored and flipped through a copy of “The Kiplinger Letter”, occasionally looking up at the monitors to make sure his ward still looked stable. Jason looked again at Nathan’s motionless face—the eyelids taped and the tube through his vocal cords obviously made any sound impossible. But the sound hung in the air around him anyway.

  Please come here and help me.

  “How?” he said aloud without meaning to. The anesthesiologist looked at him curiously over his magazine.

  “How what?”

  “Uh,” Jason stammered. “Oh, uh, never mind,” he said, trying to sound like he had figured some mystery out on his own. The other doctor shrugged, looked at the vital signs on the monitor, and returned to his reading.

  Jason peered over the blue drape that separated them from the surgical field. Sheila had taken and prepped the piece of skin from Nathan’s thigh, leaving a little square of red blood in the field of brown prep, and now scraped away at his hand and finger to prepare the surface to accept the graft. They had maybe another fifteen or twenty minutes to go and then they could start to wake Nathan up.

  Hurry, Jason. I think they see me.

  The voice sounded terrified and Jason stood up. He didn’t know what he could do but some far away memory told him he couldn’t do it from here.

  “Hey, Sheila,” he said as he strode as casually as he could to the door, “can you page me when you’re done and waking him up? I’d like to be there in recovery when he comes around.”

  “No problem,” his friend said more softly. She seemed to sense it was a bad time for a joke. “Nearly done—I’ll call you in a few.”

  “Thanks,” he said and pushed through the heavy door.

  Outside Jason tore his mask off his face, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t get enough air. He fast walked out of the OR and headed down the hallway to a locked door labeled “Resident Call Rooms.” Jason’s hands shook as he punched in the code, fumbled, and had to start over. Finally, he heard a magnetic click and he pulled the door open. The parallel hallways had row after row of doors labeled with the various specialties that took in-house call. He found one that was cracked open (it happened to be labeled cardiology) and went inside, pulled the door closed harder than he meant to, and then spun the lock, knowing it would turn a green tab to red near the handle, letting anyone who came along know that this room was occupied, probably by an exhausted resident trying to steal a few minutes of sleep.

  Jason sat on the edge of the narrow bunk and rubbed his face with both hands. He listened for Nathan’s voice and searched desperately for the memory that would tell him how to get to the cave. He remembered only going there—just lying down and going—but how?

  He lay back on the bunk, crossed his arms on his chest, and tried to slow his breathing. Forcing himself to concentrate on a slow inhale and a slow exhale, he closed his eyes and tried to picture what he remembered of the cave in his head. Twenty years of cobwebs started to melt away and he began to see it more clearly in his mind. Nathan ne
eds me. And anyway, they can smell fear.

  Yeah, don’t be a scaredy cat.

  The second voice felt déjà vu familiar. He slowed his breathing more and warmth began wrapping around him.

  I’m coming, little buddy.

  * * *

  Nathan heard Jason’s voice and for a moment felt terrified that the Lizard Men would hear it too. Then he remembered that he probably just heard the voice in his brain. The creatures had already looked his way once; one of them sniffed the air, and he felt certain that they could smell him ‘cause he felt so scared. After a moment, though, they went back to tearing Steve apart so Nathan crouched lower and sobbed as quietly as he could.

  Jason will be here in a minute. He’ll know what to do.

  Will he? He needs you to figure it out, scaredy cat. You need to Power Up.

  Nathan made himself as small as possible, his eyeballs barely above the ledge, and looked down again. The creatures rested back on powerful, thick legs. Their faces glistened with blood and spit and their eyes glowed so red it almost hurt to look at them. Steve looked very dead. His belly gaped open, the cavity an empty, dark hole, all of his guts scattered in a circle around his motionless body. Dark smears of blood stained his pale skin and face and his arms were pulled out from his sides like the Jesus-man statues. Yep—dead.

  Nathan felt his stomach turn and thought he might spit up, but he swallowed back the feeling before the other-him voice could make fun of him and tell him to Power Up like a Power Ranger again. The smaller creature gave a look and a sniff in Jenny’s direction, but the bigger one smacked him and they grunted at each other. He felt pretty sure that Jenny was okay.

  ‘Cause they need her for something. She’s okay, but just for now.

  Nathan looked back down the path to see if maybe Jason was coming up, but he saw nothing but big cave blood puddles. A sudden nasty fart smell filled his nose and he looked back down into the room. The Lizard Men were gone.

  Maybe they’re looking for you. Did you ever think of that?

  Nathan scrambled back down the path in a growing panic. The creatures were nowhere in sight, so he ran as fast as he could to the little passageway he had seen. His bare feet splashed through a couple of blood puddles, but he realized he no longer cared. He just wanted to hide as fast as he could. His feet tingled for a moment after he splashed in the purple goo, but the feeling disappeared quickly.

  I think they’re looking for me. Where is Jason?

  The passageway was little more than a low hole, but Nathan scrambled inside anyway. Instead of being scared of the tight, dark fit, he thought that maybe the Lizard Men would be too big to follow him in and he would be safe. He moved deeper into the small cave. Just past a little turn where the light from the entrance disappeared from sight, he plopped down in the moist dirt and felt a tickle of sweat roll down his back and onto his butt. He tried to slow his breathing, which sounded really, really loud in the little cave.

  Nathan leaned his head back and tried to make the far-away sounds louder. He could hear the lady doctor talking, but he didn’t understand what she said because it all sounded like doctor words. He also heard a hissing sound over and over and every time he heard it his chest felt kind of full and a little cold. The comforting feel of Jason’s hand on his cheek had disappeared and he realized he hadn’t heard his voice in awhile.

  Why isn’t he here?

  Just help yourself. You can do it. Try and leave if you can.

  Nathan closed his eyes tight and felt warm tears roll down his cheeks. He concentrated as hard as he could on the few sounds he still heard—the lady doctor, a metal sound, and the hissing. He didn’t feel anything else and had no other sounds to think on. He wished that he felt Jason’s hand on his cheek ‘cause that would probably help. He tried and tried to go to the sounds, to make them louder and more real, but he didn’t even feel a little different.

  Nothing’s happening. I really am stuck here. What if they find me?

  His breathing got loud and raspy and a little whimper came out of his throat.

  They won’t unless you are a scaredy cat. They only want you if you’re scared, right?

  The other-him voice didn’t sound so teasing this time. It sounded more like it tried to help. Nathan did the three slow, deep breaths like Mommy used to make him do when he got too upset to tell her what was wrong. It worked a little, and he felt himself start to shake a lot less and his breathing sounded quieter.

  Now just stay still and quiet. Jason will come and even if he doesn’t, you will be able to leave very soon. Be a brave, Power Ranger, for a little while more and then you can go back.

  That sounded really good. Nathan leaned his head back against the cave wall in the dark and sent one more thought to Jason in his brain.

  I’m okay, but please come and get me.

  Chapter

  13

  Jason heard Nathan much more clearly, but the anxiety it produced just made it harder for him to relax. The call room ceiling shimmered for a moment and the light seemed to fade, but Nathan’s scared voice made him anxious and the lights came back up as if they were on a dimmer switch. Jason took a deep breath and tried to picture the cave as he remembered it from so long ago. He closed his eyes again and tried to imagine the hot wet feel that his memory told him to expect.

  “I’m coming, buddy,” he mumbled and gave a long exhale. The room around him started to feel warm and heavy and the picture in his mind of the cave solidified. A small, little-boy voice from deep in his mind called out to him.

  Don’t go. The creatures are there and they are waiting for you.

  Jason ignored his child voice and the picture in his mind became clearer. He pushed the childhood terror away like kicking off a blanket. He felt a cool, sweaty film form on his naked body and opened his eyes.

  The low ceiling of the cave seemed much closer than he remembered and he reminded himself that he was a lot bigger than the last time he had been here. He sat up in the dirt and looked around.

  The cave stretched out in both directions and disappeared into the dark. Scattered about on the dirt floor he saw several puddles formed by dark purple liquid which dripped in little streams from the walls. It looked a lot like old blood and seemed to ooze from the cave itself. Nathan failed to appear in either direction and he stood up, his head only inches from the irregular ceiling. Then he headed off slowly to the right, picking his way around the blood puddles. He listened intently for the grunting sound of the creatures from his childhood nightmares.

  “Nathan,” he whispered softly. “Where are you, buddy?”

  I’m hiding. I’m in a littler cave hiding from the Lizard Men. Please come find me, Jason. I’m scared and I don’t want them to smell me.

  Jason picked up his pace. As he moved the passage seemed to narrow and after a slight bend he saw it rose up to a ledge about fifty yards ahead. Jason almost missed the small low hole to his right, but saw it at the last moment. He crouched down and peered into the darkness. In the inky blackness he could see nothing and the thought of belly crawling into the little hole terrified him. He stuck his head in, down on all fours, and called softly into the dark.

  “Are you in there, buddy?”

  “Jason,” Nathan’s scared but excited voice whispered back. “It’s me. I’m in here.”

  The fear disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming need to get to the boy—to hug him and make sure he was alright. Jason was relieved to find he was just small enough to stay up on all fours, keeping his belly out of the moist dirt. A short distance inside the hole it took a slight bend and just past the turn he saw him. Nathan sat back against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest and rocked slowly back and forth.

  “Jason!” he called out, a little louder than Jason would have liked. He moved toward his buddy and awkwardly wrapped one arm around him. He supported himself with some difficulty with the other, his shoulder jammed against the wall. Nathan wrapped both skinny arms around his neck and Jason noticed with
out surprise that the bandage was missing from his hand, though he still held it up, the fingers curled in a ball.

  “I gotcha, son,” he said and felt tears from the boy’s cheeks on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  Nathan pulled back and wiped the tears from his face. He looked embarrassed that he was crying. “I think so,” he said in a trembling voice. “Steve is dead. They tore him apart and ate up his guts. It was so gross.” Nathan’s voice cracked a little and Jason wanted desperately to take him away. “Jenny is there, too.”

  The words felt like a knife through Jason’s heart.

  “Jenny? Is she okay?” he asked.

  “I think so,” Nathan said and looked down at his knees. “The Lizard Men didn’t want to mess with her, I think. They just ate up Steve and then disappeared.”

  “Can you show me?” Jason asked, his hand now on Nathan’s cheek.

  Nathan looked at him and hesitated, then seemed to summon his courage. He nodded silently and pointed back out of the narrow hole. “It’s back that way.”

  The two of them crawled back into the larger passageway of the cave. Jason stood up. His back ached, but Nathan took his hand and pulled him up along the rise toward the ledge. He moved quickly, like he moved around in his own house, and Jason felt a tightness in his throat that the little boy had been here enough to be so familiar. As they approached the ledge, Nathan slowed and dropped onto his hands and knees. Together they crawled the last few yards.

  “They might be back,” Nathan said without looking back, more to himself than to Jason. “I didn’t smell the fart smell, though.”

  That brought a flood of old memories and then a fresh one—the horrible smell in the alley when the creatures had disappeared. Everything clicked back into place.