by Regina Doman
Nothing. He stood by the bed, tensed, waiting for a response that didn’t come.
A wave of weariness and near despair came over him and he knelt down on the floor and put his head to the pillow, near her face. He felt her breath faintly on his cheek, tainted with a trace of medicine. Funny that none of them had ever noticed it before. The total lack of even muscular response... Paul commenting on how unusually deep the coma was... Fish sighed and stared at the shadows on the ceiling.
“Why am I bothering to talk to you, Rose? You never listened to me anyway,” he said, a bit accusingly. Her unconscious smile seemed to tease him. “I told you countless times to stay away from me—to find someone else—to go on with your life—but I couldn’t convince you to stop loving me, could I? At least not for a long time.”
He turned back to her, and his eyes traveled over her features again, and without realizing he was doing it, he lifted his hand and ran a finger down the fine line of her cheekbones.
“The most persistent girl I ever met in my life,” he said, with a tinge of exasperation. “But now I’m presuming, Rose. I’m presuming that you still love me. I know I haven’t done anything to deserve it, if you still do.”
He had to chuckle at his words now. Closing his eyes, he cupped his hand around her face, feeling her cheeks. He made himself go on, even though his voice was catching. “What I do know is that I love you now. Most likely too late. But, there it is.”
He ran a tentative finger over her mouth, and paused, hoping beyond hope that this would rouse her. Then, licking his lips, he brought them lightly down on hers, and looked at her anxiously. There was still no response. He touched her face again with his finger, and then took a deep breath, and kissed her again.
Rose, he thought, I’m yours. I’m all yours. If you still want me. If I can love you...
But he realized then, that he could love her, and did love her, and that if he kept choosing to, he would be able to keep loving her, for life.
He raised his face slowly and looked at her once again. Her eyes were still closed, but her expression seemed slightly changed, a bit serious and thoughtful, as though she didn’t know what to make of this new development. He touched her face, but she was still oblivious.
“I’m all yours,” he said simply, almost by way of explanation for his actions.
She didn’t move, but some of the tension inside had been released. A curious effortlessness came over him. Part of him was amazed at how easy it had been, after all this, to admit to himself that he loved Rose. The hedge of thorns had parted smoothly before him. And another part of him was astonished at how, now that he had accepted love, it was doing some of the work for him.
Climbing to his feet, he began to search the cabinets in Rose’s room, cabinets Dr. Murray and the technicians had used, but which he had never opened. If Rose was being drugged on a daily basis, perhaps some of the drugs would be there. Some of the cabinets were open, but others were locked. He pulled out his skeleton keys and undid the catch on each one. In one lower cabinet, he found syringes, gloves, plastic bags, and glass vials of liquid, and stuffed as many as he could in his pockets. At the very least, they might be legal evidence.
Finished, he checked out the window again, then turned and looked over at Rose. Even in the dimness, he was caught by her blue-green eyes, smiling back at him.
Hers
The prison was loosening its hold. She had felt its power weakening, and the tight brown coils that had twisted themselves around her limbs were slithering away. She was still in the twilight, halfway between the dream world and her mental prison. Soon the dream would fade away into the prison, and then the prison would give way to the eerie castle that was her further prison. She could sense the moon glowing above her in that alternate world, the moon that always seemed so far off and dim through poisoned waters.
She thought that the serpent would return, as it always did, relentlessly pinning her to her prison once again. But for a few hours, she could lie watchful and waiting in the twilight. She almost hated the twilight, because when it faded, the serpent would return, and she knew that one of those times would be the moment of her death. Those transitional times reminded her of her enchanted state. Otherwise, she could forget. In the darkness, the serpent was not visible. Her death sentence was hidden. She could see nothing.
In darkness and secure,
My house being all at rest.
She had been drifting in shallow water, looking at the moon, when the new shape came. Dark, but less dark. Like a fish sliding into her water, something nosed up against her and fondled her hand...
And then she was in the rose garden, surrounded by gold, red, and pink blooms that had sprung awake once more, and he had called her name, and she breathed in the warm, heavy scent of the roses’ perfume and something more. She turned, and felt the motion swirl around her.
The love that you give is sweeter than wine...
And at once she was thrashing, pulsing, coming out of the water towards the smiling moon—
And she was in the midnight world again, looking through the dark waters, and she could see someone standing by the window, someone lean and shadowy and familiar. A young man.
Fish.
Her heart throbbed, and she blinked. He had turned towards her, and his face came into her vision more clearly. It was him. Looking older and more worn and scarred, but it was still him. She lifted a trembling hand to touch the face, and he caught it in his own.
Their words blurred together in her mind, the line between his words and her own disappearing in the glimmer of the waters.
Rose, you’re awake!
No, not really. Fish,—are you in my dream?
This isn’t a dream. I can tell that you see me.
Yes. I see you.
She saw his hand stretch towards her and touching her face.
Can you feel this?
No, but I see you touching me.
Now she could see his frustration. You’re close, but you’re still so far. All right. Rose, I’ve got to get you out of here, now.
She saw him bend down and unclick some tubes from her bed and then put his arms around her.
I suppose you can’t walk?
I can, a bit.
Good. But the ventilator… Hold on...
She saw him tense, and suddenly he grabbed her shoulders.
Rose. This is important. You’ve got to lie back down and I’ve got to hook you back up. Pretend you’re still asleep. In a coma. Can you do that for me?
Yes, Fish.
Hurry.
He helped her lie back and she sank down again, waiting.
HIS
He could hear footsteps, coming closer, and voices that sounded distinctly and uncomfortably familiar: Drs. Murray and Prosser, and it sounded like they were arguing. Trying not to panic, he helped adjust Rose on the bed, and smoothed out her hair and the bedspread. He wasn’t sure what to do with the IV, so he tucked it back in the armband and tried to hide it under the sleeve of her white nightgown as best as he could. Frantically, he pulled the restraining straps over her and fastened them.
Just as the door started to open, he quickly crouched under the bed, hidden by the drape of her patchwork quilt.
He watched as two sets of shoes came into the room, and the door shut behind them. Fish heard the lock click shut. For some reason, they didn’t turn on the lights.
“Damn you, Murray, you’d better listen to me. I got you out of that mess this evening. You’d better pay me back by telling me everything. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me about the girl or these papers until now.”
“I told you, I questioned her extensively and I was sure that she didn’t know anything.”
“But this boyfriend or brother-in-law of hers, whoever he is, he apparently knows something. Too much. And he’s still on the loose.”
“He can’t know much, or if he does, he couldn’t have proved it without the evidence we took from him.”
“But i
t’s just a matter of time till they have evidence. And if you had told me about this situation, we could at least have burned the barn down weeks ago.”
The two doctors approached Rose’s bed and stood in front of her.
“So this is your little witness?” Dr. Prosser said with derision. “Well well. I remember her. Pretty little thing. But what possessed you to keep her alive?”
“I saw no reason to put her down,” Dr. Murray argued in a thin, strained voice. Fish prayed she would be too distracted to notice the disengaged IV. “I wanted to find out what she knew. And after questioning her extensively it seemed clear to me that she didn’t know anything damaging.”
“And yet,” Dr. Prosser said sarcastically, “you would jeopardize everything—everything I’ve done and everything you’ve done—just to keep her alive? You know, I don’t understand that kind of betrayal from you, Murray. All the money you’ve taken for your pet research facility, all the funding I’ve given you, and yet you pull this kind of stupid stunt. I seem to remember you doing the same thing with that black nurse of yours, risking everyone’s neck just to be ethical.”
“I didn’t want to risk—making a mistake,” Dr. Murray said with an effort. “If she was really innocent. Same with the nurse…”
“Oh, shut up, Madelyn!” Dr. Prosser snapped. “What you mean is you didn’t have the guts to do the job. And so Barnes and I and all the others can go down because of your weak stomach.” She was standing in front of Rose, apparently examining her. Suddenly Murray gasped, and Fish’s heart stopped.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing your mistake,” Dr. Prosser laughed, and pulled her hand away. Fish peered out as far as he dared and saw, to his horror, Dr. Prosser withdrawing a hypodermic needle from Rose’s arm. “I made a visit to your medicine cabinet on the way up here.”
Dr. Murray gave a faint moan. “What did you just do?”
“A superdose of Lanoxin,” Dr. Prosser pocketed the needle. “I was glad to see you had it on hand. And just in case your conscience starts pricking you, I’ve got your entire supply of Digibind right here in my pocket, so don’t even think about trying to give her an antidote. Quit your shaking, Madelyn. The girl’s going down, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So shut up.”
Dr. Murray’s voice shook, “You had no authority to do that here.”
“Seeing as I’ve helped pay for this place, I think I do. Now pull yourself together. We can’t wait around two hours for this girl to flatline: we’ve got to get out to that barn and destroy whatever’s left of the evidence. Get back to the car. There’s a lot to do before this situation is contained. Make sure this bed’s locked in. We don’t want any of your techs noticing convulsions and calling the emergency room. Get going!”
The two doctors left the room, locking the doors behind them.
Before their footsteps vanished, Fish was out from under the bed and at Rose’s side, his chest tight. Two hours…
Hers
Rose felt her heart pounding even as she lay still on the bed. It was only when she sensed Fish bending over her and calling her name that she opened her eyes. The world still swam blue before her.
Rose, are you all right?
Yes, but…oh, Fish…the serpent stung me.
Yes, I know. She injected you with some kind of poison.
I know…But they were always going to kill me. I knew that. The water trembled around her vision.
How do you feel?
I don’t feel anything. I…don’t think she put it in a vein.
Maybe that’s why it would take two hours to work. Rose, how in the world did you not flinch when she stuck the needle in you?
I’m used to that. Dr. Murray’s injected me so many times. Plus I still don’t have much feeling in my limbs, fortunately.
Very fortunate. Rose, I’ve got to get you out of here.
He seemed to be looking at the large machine next to her and wondering if he could carry it.
Fish, I think…I think you could take me off the ventilator.
Are you sure?
I’m sure.
All right. We’ll try…
He reached out a hand and touched her throat. She dimly felt something on her throat releasing, and then the pressure of air was gone.
I just unhooked you from the ventilator. His voice was strangely tight. Can you still breathe?
She took a deep breath.I can. Her chest swelled, but her words frayed apart in the air and made no sound. He touched her neck gently.
I’m afraid, dear Rose, you’ve got an incision in your throat. Try talking now while I hold the tube closed.
The waters glimmered around the words, and she swallowed and tried again.
I said, I can breathe. That was better.
Are you sure you’re okay?
I’m sure.
Then let’s break out of here.
He helped her sit up and unfastened the remaining tubes. The waters swam around her, but she managed to remain steady. She saw Fish kneeling in front of the doors, doing something with the lock. After a moment, she heard a click, and saw his hand on the door, pushing it slowly open. Then he put an arm around her and supported her so she could stand. And then they were moving forward in the dark water, into the hallway.
HIS
Fish locked the door to Rose’s room behind them and scanned the floor, his heart beating hard. Night duty, there were few nurses about, but he couldn’t risk meeting anyone. He closed the door behind them and half-carried, half-pulled Rose forward, feeling her warmth beneath his arms. She seemed so strong, yet so frail too…He had to get her out of this death house before it was too late…
He guided her down the hall, and decided the elevator was too risky. The side stairs would be better.
They managed to slip into the first floor stairwell just as he heard a door open at the other end of the hallway. They had just missed the night nurse on her rounds.
Tense, he carefully maneuvered Rose down the first set of stairs, helping her grasp the banister and supporting her on the other side. They started down as silently as possible. But they had barely gone three steps, when he heard a click click click of heels on the floor below, and then—someone started up the steps. Towards them.
Quickly, Fish scooped up Rose and hurried back up the steps. He thought it best to keep on going upstairs, and the stairwell’s echoes hid their own footsteps from the person below them. He could tell Rose was trying hard not to breathe loudly.
Up and around the landing to the third floor they hurried, Fish pausing as much as he dared before each corner. At the third story landing he paused for breath, hoping the person below would exit on the second floor.
But no. They kept climbing. Fish carried Rose forward, up and up and up the third floor, up to the fourth floor…
The footsteps still advanced onward. Fish desperately forced his legs to push them up past the fourth floor and around the corner, until they came up against a locked door set in a slanted ceiling. They were trapped.
He set Rose down and pressed her behind him, against the door, shielding her from view as much as he could with his own person, and readied himself for an inevitable confrontation. The footsteps, calm and unruffled came closer—closer—
And then suddenly the person exited on the fourth floor. A door swung creakily behind, and they were alone.
Fish breathed a sigh of relief, and looked back at Rose. Eyes closed, lips parted, her breathing was shallow. Even as he looked at her, she slipped to the ground, and he caught her before she lost her balance.
How can we get out? her mouth formed the words.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. Rest now, okay?”
But grimly he looked down at what seemed like several miles of staircase. He was winded, the inevitable strains of the day crashing down on him. He knew there was no way he could safely carry Rose back down the steps without losing his balance and injuring her. Trapped.
But maybe…
He examined the lock on the door, and inserted his lock pick. It opened easily onto a dusty, deserted attic, a long storage area at the top of the building, its floor of rough boards, its ceiling of beams and plaster. There was a window at one end, and there were old mattresses and other used medical equipment piled about.
He gathered Rose in his arms and helped her inside the attic. Gently he laid her down on one of the discarded mattresses. “Lie still for a moment,” he said, smoothing out her hair, and trying not to be alarmed at how clammy she felt. “Rest while I check around, okay?”
He searched around the attic for another exit downstairs, but it seemed like the attic only had one door. In frustration, he went back to the door and looked again down the stairs.
Something wrong? she seemed to say in a hush.
“Just wishing I had the physique of my older brother,” Fish told her ruefully. “Like I said, you fell for the wrong guy, Rose.”
But he couldn’t joke about that. Not now. For better or for worse, he was the one she had chosen. He knelt beside her and pressed her hand to his lips, thinking hard.
…I’ve got your entire supply of Digibind right here in my pocket so don’t even think of trying to give her an antidote...
It was a slim chance, but it might be the only chance he had.
“Look, Rose, I’m going to try something. Alex is downstairs. I’ll send him up to get you, okay?”
Her eyes were dim, but her lips moved. Where are you…?
“I’m going after Dr. Prosser to get that antidote,” he said reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”
I know. You always…come.
There was pressure on his hand and her other hand raised, then flopped down as though she were trying to reach him. He bent down to oblige her, and supported her hand as it wavered towards his face.
I love you, Fish. So much.
His eyes seemed to be still irritated from the mace. At any rate, he found himself blinking back tears. He couldn’t respond, so he just pressed his hand against hers and forced himself to stand up.
