by Bella Street
“Quit complaining,” Addison said.
“All this fuss is silly. It's not like I just had surgery or anything.” Her eyes bulged. “I didn't have surgery, did I?” She didn't think a few stitches on her head counted.
Addison grinned. “Did you wake up in a bathtub full of ice?”
Seffy rolled her eyes. “Very funny.” But she'd peek when she was alone in case her kidneys had been stolen. You never knew in a place like this. Easing her legs over the edge of the bed, she groaned in part for real, in part for dramatic effect. Lani took her hand and steadied her while she put weight on her feet.
“Got any bedsores yet?” Addison asked, her mouth twitching.
“You're confused. Mockery is not the best medicine,” Seffy groused, surprised at the stiffness of her muscles. “Okay, so I'm walking. Now what?”
“You should go down the hall and back.” Lani gave her an encouraging smile.
“Uh, yeah, there's no way I'm leaving this room wearing only a drafty hospital gown.”
“But Olga said you couldn't have a shower until you did.”
Seffy gnashed her teeth. “That's blackmail.”
“Don't worry, Sef, I'll make sure no one sees you.”
“Yeah, right, Addison. You probably have a camera on you right now. Has Youtube been invented yet?”
Addy took her other arm. “C'mon, let's go.”
Seffy hobbled out the door, favoring her gimpy leg and clutching the I.V. stand for dear life. Apocalyptic time travel was very hard on the body.
“God, this place gives me the creeps.”
Seffy had to agree with Addison. The hallway stretched before them, shiny stained floor tiles and gray walls lined with unmarked doors. All that was missing were corrupt orderlies terrorizing the inmates.
Lani shivered. “I wonder why the psychiatric ward is so large. Was this a prison for the criminally insane?”
“Maybe it's a metaphor for why you're here.”
Seffy sent Addison a sidelong glance. “Gee, thanks.”
Once they reached the end of the hall, they headed back to the hospital room. Seffy felt stronger already. Maybe she could move back into her bedroom by evening. Maybe then she could cry into something stronger than lime gelatin.
“What if you really are in a psychiatric ward?” Addison said. “Maybe you're nuts and all this bad stuff is just in your head.”
“What stuff? Like you?”
“No,” Addison said without missing a beat. “Like zombies and...Fiona.”
“I think you're the one who's nuts.”
“Think about it. All this, the end of the world, this place...it's all just a construct in the corridors of your mind. It's how you're dealing because your actual life is a joke.”
“Wow. You should consider cheering people up professionally, Addy.”
“I'm just saying.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it's you guys who are staging some elaborate intervention, trying to trick me into thinking we time-traveled.”
“Yeah, but that'd still mean you were nuts.”
Seffy scowled.
They arrived back at the hospital room. After getting her settled in bed, they left. They didn't say why, didn't alert her to what was crowding their social calendars. They just said their farewells and were gone. Was it some form of tough love? But that only worked in an intervention. And this reality was all too real.
The room was silent save the faint sound of her respiration. Seffy stared at the blank walls, fighting a hovering sensation of despair. Her mind turned to Gareth. She didn't want to think about what had happened with him, but it was hard not to. Especially when he'd walk in the door any minute. She smoothed her hair and sat up straighter, mentally girding herself for his arrival.
When he didn't show after about twenty minutes, Seffy became agitated. Was he rejecting her? How could he act so incomprehensible last night and not explain himself today? She was the injured one here. Fresh tears burned at the back of her eyes but she was determined not to cry until she was in the privacy of her own room.
After another half an hour of marinating in misery, she decided she was tired of waiting. It was time to go get that shower. There wasn't any kind of call button that she could see and Olga must've gotten busy with other patients. Sitting here alone hoping someone would show up was ridiculous. She'd practically alienated everyone she knew. Why not add Gareth to the list?
Seffy looked at the I.V. needle stuck in her hand. She was gonna have to say goodbye to the morphine drip or whatever it was being pumped into her body. She peeled back the tape, cringing at the ick factor.
When she saw the giant exposed needle sticking out of the back of her hand, she almost tossed her pseudo-breakfast. Taking a deep breath, she gripped it and slid it out of her skin. The sensation made her gag, and she refused to look at it when it was out. Sucking in several cleansing breaths, she dropped the needle onto the bed and reached for the table. She peeked inside the drawer hoping for something she could leave a note with but the drawer was empty.
Well, I tried.
Taking slow steps to the door was a bit more difficult than she imagined. Maybe she was tired from her first trip. Seffy leaned on the door jamb for support, marshaling her strength to make the long walk down the hallway and around a few corners. Every bone in her body ached. If there was some gun happy vigilante around...her problems would be over.
The trip back to her room took at least forty minutes, made worse by the fact that she got turned around several times. Dizziness assailed every step, but she plodded on, keeping the goal of a shower forefront in her mind. When she saw her door, she exhaled in relief. Seffy twisted the knob and found the door was locked.
Not again! Oh, why didn't I consider that possibility? Exhaustion made her slide down the wall and sag against the door. Tears threatened but she fought the sensation. God, I'm sick of crying. I'm sick of trying to be someone Gareth will ultimately never accept.
But I love him. Why isn't that enough?
She leaned her head against the jamb and closed her eyes, too tired to do much more than lean.
A noise in the corridor brought her head up. A pink-encased leg first eased past a corner. She wondered why it looked familiar. The next leg came into view in a strange lurching motion, followed by the rest of the body of a woman looking in the opposite direction. Someone else here has a Juicy Couture suit? She frowned. Were they even around in 1980? This one looked to be in brand-new condition. From where she sat she could clearly see the fresh, crisp velour fabric.
Seffy noticed the woman's salon-fresh blonde curls and thought of her own dull locks. Maybe there's an on-compound salon? The idea was absurd and she began to giggle until the woman turned her head in her direction.
Filmy white eyes stared back at her. The woman's complexion was gray and peeling. Blood stains dripped from her lips. Seffy suddenly realized she was looking at herself.
As a zombie.
She opened her mouth to scream.
“What in the world are you doing?”
Seffy looked up, disoriented. Trent stood over her shaking his head. She stared at him, then looked down the other corridor, her heart pounding hard. It was empty. Where's the woman?
“What woman?”
Did I say that out loud? She stared up at Trent, unable to form a coherent thought. Finally she realized she must've been asleep. For how long she had no clue. So she was just a dream?
“Are you okay?”
As her surroundings coalesced, Seffy became aware of the fact that she was alone with someone she couldn't trust, while wearing next to nothing. She tugged the gown as low as it would go over her thighs. “Uh, my door is locked.”
He reached over her and tried the handle. The door swung open. Seffy looked at it in consternation. “I swear it was locked a minute ago.”
“A minute, huh? Seems to me you've been here a while.” He pointed to the floor next to her.
Seffy peered down and saw a sizable pool o
f blood from the hole in her hand. A feeling of faintness stole over her.
“That's how I found you,” Trent said. “I followed the blood.”
“You went to my hospital room?”
He shrugged. “I was bored. Thought playing the Bait Seffy game could kill some time.”
She closed her eyes briefly, regretting her choice to disconnect from pain medication. So no one had been to see her. Only Trent. Why did things always have to go from bad to worse? But her bed was close. That and a shower, which might bring a measure of relief from her misery. “I...need some help. Any chance...?”
Trent's grin sent a small shudder through her. “Anything to pass the time.”
Seffy shot him a hard look. “If...if you try to look at my underwear, I'll stick a pen in your eye.”
“That's specific,” he said conversationally. He reached down, slid an arm around her, and hoisted her up to her feet. From there, he helped her into the room and delivered her to the edge of the bed where she sank down in exhaustion.
“I'm gonna have to clean up that blood,” she said without enthusiasm. “Everyone'll freak about the 'contamination'.”
“I'll take care of it.”
Seffy regarded with suspicion. “Why are you pretending to be nice?”
Trent sent her a simmering look. “You've got it all wrong about me, babe.”
“Yeah, sure.” She shoved a lock of hair from her face. “Well, thanks for helping me out. I'm going to take a shower now, so you can leave.”
“You're in no condition to take a shower by yourself. Let me help.”
She emitted a tired snort. “I think I'll take my chances with drowning, thanks.”
He raised a brow. “It was worth a try.”
Seffy noticed he still looked ill. “So what's your story”
He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, his half-smile fading. “What story?”
“What's wrong with you? You look like zombie warmed over.”
Trent glared at her, a dark flush rising up his neck. “Oh, so you're finally using the 'z' word. Congratulations. Anyway, I'm just fine. You should worry about yourself.”
Before she could think of a retort, he left the room, closing the door with a succinct snap. Well, now there's no one left to alienate.
Seffy looked at the bed with longing, but she knew if she fell asleep now, she'd feel even grosser. She scooted off the mattress, grabbed some clean clothes and hobbled into the bathroom.
***
“Tsk tsk.”
“What now?” Seffy groaned. “Why is someone always waking me up?” She cracked her eyes open and Olga's stern visage.
“It was a foolish thing to leave the hospital room like that. You should've at least called for help.”
Seffy pushed herself to a sitting position on the bed. Her hair, still wet, clung to her damp T-shirt. The shower had been a difficult prospect and she was surprised she made it out alive. “I couldn't find a call button.”
Olga frowned as if she didn't believe her.
“But I did try to leave a note. Except there wasn't any stationary, either.”
“Hmm.” The nurse reached out and tipped up her chin. “I don't remember seeing that bloody scrape on your head.”
Seffy twisted her face away, not about to admit she'd passed out in the shower, presumably smacking her skull on the soap dish. Maybe having Trent's help would've been a good idea.
She though about his leer. Nah.
Olga busied herself taking Seffy's vitals, then scratched the readings onto her clipboard. “You caused a bit of fuss when your lunch was brought up—”
“Let me guess, chicken broth and lemon gelatin?”
“—and you weren't there.” She returned the cuff to her bag. “We had to go ask your friends. Luckily the blond one knew you were in your room.”
Trent. Seffy exhaled. “Luckily.”
The nurse readied to leave. “You should try to be more considerate of others.”
Seffy put up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just for the record, I'm not really myself, okay? I've been chased by disco weirdos, shot at by one of your friends, and oh yeah, I'm not even in my own state, let alone my own generation.” She neglected to mention being rejected and abandoned. It went beyond pathetic.
Olga's expression softened. “I can see your point.” She snapped her bag shut. “Just try not to get into any more scrapes.”
Seffy sighed. “Agreed.”
When she left, Seffy glared at the door. Another overwhelming urge to cry gripped her, but she drew in lungfuls of oxygen until she got control.
God, she hated this place.
Chapter Twenty-five
Seffy stayed in her room until hunger drove her to where the others were, in hopes she could tag along for dinner. It was a long, painful walk down the deserted halls. When she arrived at the common room, she found Gareth, Lani and Addison playing cards at the table. They looked up and smiled at her entrance, as if they were acquaintances and not a group of friends who'd been to hell and back.
The rest of the gang was present and everyone appeared to be bored. Trent cast an annoyed look her way, then returned to some novel he'd apparently dug out of the book box.
Gareth put down his cards and followed her to the other side of the room where she'd noticed a closed window curtain. Still hurt by his behavior, she didn't turn when she sensed his presence behind her. Seffy pushed the curtains aside to reveal more dark paneling.
She looked over her shoulder. “Why do the rooms have inner windows but not in the exterior walls?”
“I heard you went AWOL,” he said.
“And I heard you were going to visit me.” Seffy studied his expression, a thousand questions and recriminations crowding into her mind. “Do you blame me?”
He shrugged. “How did Trent know where you were?”
“In his words, he 'followed the blood'.” She shook her head, realizing this moment would not be Breakthrough Time. “Don't ask.”
“Okay.”
Seffy regarded him, wishing she knew what to say. Why hadn't he come to see her before this? The new tension between them tore at her but she didn't know how to address it. Added to that was a deep sense of guilt she couldn't shake. Seeing him now made it worse. Maybe his absence had actually been a kindness. When he opened his mouth to speak, she braced herself for a long, awkward apology, laced with a solidifying of what he said last night.
“So, do you like your nurse? She seems really nice.”
Huh? Seffy furrowed her brow, switching mental gears. “Uh, yeah.”
“And this place isn't all that bad, considering, right?”
She stared at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Or was this his version of breaking the ice? “It's great,” she said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Gareth smiled. “I know this whole experience has been challenging, but at least we're together.”
Her heart misfired. “We?”
“You, me, and the girls, of course.”
Seffy was speechless for several moments. Was this his way of dealing? Going back to square one? Pretending nothing had happened? “Gareth, you do remember our conversation last night, right?”
He reached out, pressing her hand between his. She winced in pain. He must not have seen the I.V. hole. “Yeah, I remember. I remember being confused and exhausted. And you were pretty drugged up.”
So that's how he wanted to play this out? Anger bubbled up within her, making her hand between his palms tremble. After a pretty harsh rejection, he wanted to go back to the status quo.
A retort died on her lips. This was Gareth. And she couldn't imagine a world without him, even if it had to be lonely, bitter, and unrequited. And he was here, offering some semblance of restoration instead of closing the door forever. This was good.
She was sure this was good.
“I'm...feeling better,” she said finally, scarcely daring to breathe as she awaited his response.
<
br /> “I'm glad,” he said. His smile enveloped her in warmth.
He squeezed her hands once more. Seffy bit back a cry of pain.
“Well, you should get some rest.”
“I'm tired of resting.”
He laughed softly. “If you need anything, you know where I am.”
I need you.
He turned to go.
“Wait.”
Gareth looked back at her, a pleasant expression on his face.
Seffy licked her lips. “Have you found anything else out about what's going on here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are we just going to cool our heels and wait for them to work this out?”
A small line appeared between his brows. “Sef, there's nothing we can do. The zombies are still an issue.”
“Aren't you interested in how that happened? I would've thought you'd be poking around, looking for answers.”
Gareth put a hand on her shoulder. “Sef, look around. They don't want any of us here and they're not going to let us just wander the halls.”
She bit back an angry sigh. “Okay, but aren't you at least trying to figure out how we traveled in time? I mean, that's sciencey and right up your alley.”
He edged a little closer, impatience flaring in his eyes. “I've thought about it, but unless I can get to their equipment, there's not much I can do. Right now everything hinges on the zombie issue.”
Seffy felt her expression harden. “So we just sit around, playing cards, reading magazines until the suspicious people who run this place say it's okay to leave?”
Gareth returned her steady look. “That's our only choice. And you're supposed to be getting better. Try and look at this time as a break from our frantic lifestyle.”
“We're in an abandoned psychiatric ward.”
“Okay, Sef, I can tell you're upset.”
She blew out a silent sigh. Maybe it was stupid to be whining to Gareth about this. There was nothing stopping her from doing her own investigating—aside from her injuries at the moment. “You know what, you're right. Forget it.”
He scrutinized her for a moment, then with a shoulder squeeze, turned away.
