“Well, entertainment is not a priority for her right now,” Laura motioned for me to get back in the bed and I did, knowing not to press my luck on these feelings of wellness. Once I was sitting back on the bed, she started removing the shower bandages; I could see her disapproval of the moisture that got in. Ruben kept working, wiping the tray table down and pressed on with the issue about my solitary confinement.
“You’re a pretty young woman, you look about my niece’s age. I bet you listen to that R&B and hip-hop stuff, don’t you?” he continued.
“I do, but I like a little bit of everything,” I informed him kindly.
“Uh-huh, just like my niece. Well, there ought to be a radio ‘round here somewhere and some CDs with something you’d like to listen to. I’ll check around and see.” Ruben replaced the nearly empty box of tissues with a new one before he turned to leave.
“Ruben, thank you for the quilt and pillows,” I said before he was gone.
“Oh you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he replied as he closed the door.
Laura finished reattaching the IV, blood pressure cuff, and the oxygen sensor and looked at her watch and said, “I will bring your lunch in shortly. It’ll be chicken noodle with toast and ginger ale, since you’re on a couple of medications. If you eat anything too heavy, you’ll get an upset stomach.”
“Are you in any pain?” She questioned further.
“Just from being shot in my shoulder, bitten on the arm and not knowing where I am or how long I’ve been here,” I told her flatly. She had that coming.
I could tell she didn’t appreciate my reaction because her eyes narrowed and she simply said, “Okay,” as she turned around to get the manila folder from the chair seat and handed it to me. “You need to read through these and sign wherever you see the ‘X’ is highlighted. I’ll be back with a pen and your food.” With that, Laura left my room. I’m sure she had the word bitch plastered right on my face in her head because of her attitude with me. I’m sure though she’d be worse than I was if it were her in this situation.
Laura returned after a few minutes as promised with the tray for lunch, along with a pen. I hadn’t yet opened the manila folder to read anything because I finished up putting on the lotion and deodorant and was now combing through my hair to help it dry, as best as I could. After she pulled the tray table closer and put the food on it she walked out without a word––which was okay with me––I knew what I had to do.
The smell of the soup caught my attention so I started in on it first. The toast came with butter but my mouth was still overly dry from the lack of moisture and food consumption that I decided I would do without it. It only took a spoonful or two in order to get full but I managed to drink some of the ginger ale in hopes that the dry mouth would resolve.
Feeling satisfied enough, I moved the table out of the way so I could look at the papers I had to sign; good thing I wasn’t left-handed because I saw at least ten highlighted X’s requiring a signature. Some of the papers were medical release forms, permission and acknowledgement of treatment forms, release of liability forms and a general patient information form that I was surprised to find already filled out with my name, address, driver’s license number, social security number, height, weight and hair color pre-printed in black in all of the appropriate places. The only thing missing was a wallet-sized photo. I didn’t think much of it since most of the medical records had become electronic; it couldn’t have been too hard to get as most of the regional hospitals use the same database.
As far as I skimmed, everything seemed pretty cut and dry using standard terms. At the top of most of the forms “NGT Labs, Inc.” was printed on business letterhead which was completely unfamiliar to me and it suggested that I was not in a hospital. For the emergency contact I was hesitant but listed my parents, writing down their phone number, hoping they would have more luck than I did if they needed to be called. After I finished signing the last document I put the neat little stack back into the manila folder and set it on the tray table.
Out of boredom, I started poking around the bandage on my arm. I ended up slowly peeling back the tape. I was curious to see the bite mark again because it was the reason my fate had swung in such a sad and unusual direction. Apparently, because of some reason unknown to me, I was not a candidate for death from this, an option previously not available to anyone else in the same scenario. As I slowly bent my arm to look closely at the scar, the lines were still crooked but a little more healed than before. I pulled the bandage completely off, letting it fall on the bed as I took my fingers and touched it ever so slightly. It was still sore but seemed odd because it was red and not yet bruised like I had seen in other bites. There was also no mucous build-up as I twisted my arm to closely inspect this supposed infection. I tugged a little at the tiny sutures that sprung out like overgrown hairs but regretted doing so as I felt a stinging sensation at the site. It was as if I knew someone was going to catch me because, a few seconds later, Dr. Chavan walked in.
“It probably wasn’t a good idea to remove that,” he said as he approached, looking directly at my arm.
“I can’t help it. I wanted to see,” I responded, trying not to sound like a whiny little child. “Besides, I am a paramedic and I am just as curious about injuries as you, Doctor,” I said in an attempt to make myself sound more reasonable.
“Laura mentioned that you might be in pain––do you need some more medication right now?” he said.
“Honestly, I’m feeling a little better than before. I’m just worried about my family and I’d like to speak with someone here who can tell me where my boyfriend is. He needs to know I’m not dead or dying like the others.”
“Can you raise your left arm for me?” he instructed, changing the subject at hand.
“Doctor, you’re not going to get me to do anything but inquire about my loved ones. Where’s Graham? I know someone here knows where he is,” I was beginning to get irritated now as I sprung up from the bed, faster than he expected. I don’t know what I was going to do; if I had thought about it longer I would’ve kept my mouth shut and raised my arm like he asked. The doctor took a step back but oddly I could sense that it wasn’t out of fear of me or my actions. Knowing that the IV would limit my outburst, I disconnected it while Dr. Chavan simply said, “Seanna, think about what you’re doing. You’re being irrational. Remember what I told you?” He held his arms out, palms facing me in a reassuring effort to slow my commotion.
“I know my rights and if you cannot answer my questions, I’m ending my treatment as of now!” I replied. I was barefoot but I marched right past him without interference to the door, opened it and walked out into the hallway. The same two staff members from before were at the station when they looked up and became visibly nervous. The male staff person quickly picked the phone and dialed a few numbers, which was perfect; they could call me a cab out of here as far as I was concerned. Dr. Chavan came right out and tried to reassure the two whose eyes never left me. “It’s okay, calm down. She just wants to see her boyfriend, that’s all,” he said quickly and turned his focus back to me.
“Which way is the exit?” I half-yelled to anyone within earshot. I looked closely to see if any one of them would unintentionally look toward a door and give the exit away. My theory was correct because the woman behind the desk quickly looked past me, down the hallway by the bathroom. Instead of the right-hand side I figured it would be on the interior side of the building. Good, thank you, I thought, as I turned around and started walking down the hall. The man behind the desk said out loud, “I’ve got security on the line!” as Dr. Chavan, and now nurse Laura, who came out of nowhere, followed closely behind. I didn’t run, but I walked quickly and purposefully toward the section of doors near the bathroom I used earlier. It didn’t take but a half second to look up and see the Exit sign in red lighting. I thanked God for building codes and required fire exit routes as I opened the door to the stairwell and started down the stairs. The stairwell was li
ght yellow, well-lit and noticeably colder by the hard floor underneath my feet in contrast to the carpeting elsewhere. I held on to the railing as I went down one flight and then another. I must’ve been on the fifth floor because there was a visible, numerical ‘three’ sign by the doorway of the next floor down. I kept going. I heard the doctor’s and Laura’s footsteps about a flight of stairs behind me as I rounded the second floor to head to the next one. I looked at them and smirked after the doctor called out, “You are not going to see your boyfriend this way; in fact, you are going to get yourself killed. Please just come back to the room, Seanna.” I didn’t break my stride. I just replied, “I am of sound mind doctor, I am checking myself out now.”
I got to the first-floor doorway, looked at the doctor one more time before rolling my eyes in defiance and opened the door. I stepped into a hallway that was beautifully furnished with obviously expensive décor featuring a dark silver metallic, executive theme. It was a stark difference from the makeshift hospital floor that I’d just came from that would totally pass on a movie set. I marched forward a few steps before the doctor and company got out of the stairwell and continued behind me at a safe distance. I didn’t have a clue which way to go but I knew the building exit had to be somewhere. Hell, maybe they’d have an information desk with a map where there would be a “You are here” sign and the entrance clearly marked for visitors. I had just rounded the corner when I saw him again, our eyes met and I knew instantly who he was from our brief encounter at Graham’s house. Those blue eyes focused right into mine like the bullet that went into my shoulder—piercing. I stopped immediately in an attempt to keep some space between us, which wasn’t more than fifteen feet. He was tall, at least six feet and dressed in the same type of uniform as before, leading me to think that he had to be security for the facility. To make things worse, he was carrying a semi-automatic rifle. Two more guys dressed in the same attire arrived from down the hallway and joined him at each side. I’d say that not even the world’s best running back would get through them to the other side now. I quickly looked behind me as three additional uniformed men with guns ran up to join Dr. Chavan and Laura who now were just a few yards away. I was completely cornered now. My heart was racing out of my chest, though I doubted with the guns surrounding me that it would make it far either.
Blue Eyes raised his weapon at me and stated calmly, “Which will it be, Seanna: room or body bag?”
I didn’t look at anyone but him. They all had weapons, but his was pointed at my head and commanded all my attention. I was more afraid now than ever before since the doctor had informed me of the Rule of Two, which meant that only one other person was needed to justify my being killed. Point blank, no further questions asked.
Did my life really mean so little now?
“This is bullshit! I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I just want to get out of here,” I stuttered.
“Mr. Davenport, everything’s okay. Seanna misunderstands the situation and just needs an escort back to her room,” Dr. Chavan spoke loudly from around the corner.
So, Mr. Davenport was his name. He never took his blue eyes off me. Instead he just remained still and focused on his target.
“Mr. Davenport, I- ––I don’t know what’s going on but I’ve already been shot. I know you all mean business. I need to get to my family, that’s all I want,” I pleaded with him.
“You are infected. There are only two choices for you. I stated them already,” he replied coldly as he readied the firearm. There was a slight clicking sound to confirm. It was so quiet now you could probably hear an ant hiccup. The silence though was broken by a radio from one of the armed guards, where the person on the other end was inquiring about the situation. The man who wore the radio was standing next to Davenport and responded quietly, “We have her now. Containment in progress.”
I tried not to let them see me look but there was only one door in the hallway where I stood by the wall. There was no way I’d be able to make it before Davenport put a round or two in my head. I didn’t know if there was anything else to do because it seemed he was determined to kill me. In my mind I only had one other choice. The break I needed came from the door in the hallway Davenport had come from. It opened again and two more individuals in lab coats quickly approached the three. It was a man and a woman who yelled, “Do not shoot her!” when she saw the gun aimed at me. Davenport looked at her quickly and that was my cue to go for the door. I don’t even know if it was unlocked or anything but I had to try because there wasn’t any other place to go. Everyone sprang into motion when they saw me move. I extended my arm to open the door and was surprised to find it was unlocked. The security team closed in quickly as I stepped in and turned to slam the door shut. I had additional luck because of a standard knob lock that I quickly turned. Less than a second later they made it to the door because the knob twisted but did not open.
I must have been in someone’s office because of the way it was furnished but all I cared about was the window and the possible exit it provided. I ran to the window but was out of time to do much else before the doorknob exploded from a gunshot. The door swung violently open from a kick and Davenport with a handgun stepped in, aimed right at me and took a shot.
“No, don’t!” was all I could utter before I felt the impact. To my surprise I was not pierced from a bullet this time; instead a dart had imbedded itself in my right shoulder. Are these even legal? Davenport stood in the doorway watching, seemingly satisfied with his shot. Within seconds I felt my vision blur and my legs give out as I fell to the floor. I lay there stunned and I could tell that most of the people from the hallway had come into the room but I could only see Davenport and the dark-haired woman with the lab coat who came by my side and checked me.
“Get her back upstairs into a secured room this time. Sainiraj, you’re filling out the report on this one. Be sure and write down it’s your own damn fault too,” the woman spoke sternly.
Davenport walked up and stood over me as I tried to stay awake, yet again. I was only able to mumble a faint, “Get away from me,” as I was completely paralyzed and almost unconscious when he bent over and scooped me up. He had to be strong because I wasn’t a tiny woman by any means. I wanted to resist, to rebel, or at the very least spit in his face to let him know how much I hated him, but those thoughts floated right away with my consciousness.
Chapter Six
Waking up in an unfamiliar place can be stressful enough on its own. Waking up with the last memory of being shot at after being swarmed by a room full of armed strangers is the ultimate form of humility. This has happened to me twice now. All of a sudden my life goes from mundane with a dose of excitement via my line of work as a paramedic to full-on who knows what will happen next, with a high chance of mortality being a constant. In my mind I could still see those piercing blue eyes that wanted me dead; looking around at this new room and the shivers I get from those memories revealed I was not at all in the alternate reality I wished it to be.
I regained my consciousness and found myself on a leather couch. It was cold but plush and comfortable as it cradled around my body, which was curled up and covered with a throw. I had the same clothes on as before and could still smell the lotion I applied shortly before I unsuccessfully tried to leave. After all that went on I was now in a nice office––it had to be an executive suite because there was another couch facing me and a desk space fitting for a corporate CEO. Everything in the room was dark in color––from the mahogany wood of the large desk to the high back leather chairs across from it to the carpets and matching couch set that I was on. I could tell it was all very tastefully chosen without regard for a budget or the need for a sale price. I took a few seconds sitting up, still feeling lightheaded from the dart that caused soreness in my right upper chest area. It didn’t take long for me to see the huge window behind the desk so I slowly got up to walk over there first instead of trying the door, which I figured would be locked anyway. I still had no shoes on.
The window gave me my first glance into the outside world, from about six stories up. I didn’t know my location or if I was in the same building as before because there was less than a second to see out of the last window before the door got kicked in and I was down on the floor. The view I had now was just barely above the treetops where everything looked peaceful and serene. This appeared to be a part of a forest preserve because in every direction there was nothing but greenery and mature trees. A couple of Eastern Bluebirds perched high on a branch of one of the trees nearby. I looked back over at the desk, which was neat and tidy, no papers lying in sight. The computer monitor was off and therefore no logo or business name anywhere. On a side table there was a jar of peppermints along with some common houseplants, one them being a Pothos. It was the same kind I had back in my apartment.
Seeing the phone on the desk, I immediately thought about calling Graham’s cell phone but I doubted he would’ve had the chance to take it with him amidst all of the commotion that took place before we were escorted from his house. I decided to try anyway. Picking up the phone, I started dialing the first few numbers of the area code when the office door opened ever so slightly and in walked a very familiar face. I hung up the phone and blinked a few times. It was my uncle Lloyd, my father’s older brother––a man I’d not seen in years. He was dressed sharply with a dark gray shirt, black slacks and a gray and silver striped tie. Though he was slightly shorter, he shared the same hairline and nose as my father.
“Uncle Lloyd?” I said with an upward inflection.
“Yes, my niece, it’s me,” he replied as he smiled, walked over to me and gave me a long and hearty hug. He was the first family I’d seen or heard from in days. I rested easy for a moment before a cluster of questions came to my mind. My tears beat me to anything as they streamed down my face. Sensing this mix of emotions, he patted my back softly until my arms fell and I backed away. “I’ve spoken to your mother and my brother––rest assured they are alive,” he spoke again.
Affliction Page 9
