Nighter

by Magdalena Kozak

“I don’t know,” the nurse answered sourly, without waiting for the patient’s name. “I’m only substituting, and only for a short while.” Her expression clearly stated that she didn’t want anyone to bother her right then.

  Vesper decided not to give up so easily.

  “Please find out,” he said calmly. “Patient Piotr Jazwinski,” he remembered with relief. “I went to his room, and the bed was empty, no chart, which means he was moved. I need to know where he is.”

  “If you wait, you’ll find out,” she growled. “Once my colleague comes back. She took her kid to the doctor, and she’ll be back in two, three hours. I’m not about to learn all the patient information for such a short time. Besides, I have nobody to ask, I’m here alone. We rotate every now and then, we change departments if there’s need... There is a flu outbreak. You know, we get sick sometimes too.” She stared at him with enmity.

  He backed away, understanding he wouldn’t get anything out of her. He clenched his teeth and got the anger under control. He took a few steps and knocked on the doctors’ door. He walked in without waiting for a response.

  “I’m looking for patient Jazwinski,” he announced from the door. “Was he moved?”

  “He went for a MRI,” the doctor said, not looking up from the TV. “The intern took him. They’ll be back in at least an hour.”

  “Where is the resonance department?” Vesper asked quickly, somewhat relieved.

  The doctor finally faced him, obviously upset about losing precious game minutes.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?” he asked reluctantly. “They’ll be back when they come back. Don’t worry, they won’t get lost.”

  Vesper took out his black ID with the silver crowned eagle, engraved with “Republic of Poland” and “Internal Security Agency”. He waved it in front of the doctor’s eyes.

  The man because serious instantly.

  “The Radiology Diagnosis Unit. Main building, ground floor,” he answered swiftly. “Right by the Registration and Medical Rescue Department. Next to Policlinic.”

  “Thank you. Please don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” Vesper ran out of the room, without even closing the door behind himself.

  He ran down the stairs to the MRI, magnetic resonance imaging. If Crumbly was in the middle of a procedure, then it was obvious his cell was off. The magnetic field would cause strong interference, so electronics would need to be kept off.

  He got to the unit, and glanced around the hall. The same bespectacled woman with mousy-blond hair who was on shift last night sat in the waiting area.

  “Jazwinski’s inside?” he asked without introductions.

  She nodded and yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. She seemed very tired.

  “Did you change his room?” he confirmed.

  “He really insisted,” she agreed. “He didn’t feel safe in the other one.”

  He sighed slightly, feeling overwhelming relief.

  “How long since he went in?” he asked more calmly.

  “Five minutes,” she replied. “It will take a while. They’re doing his whole spine, and the brain.”

  He hesitated for a moment. He should sit here with her and guard Crumbly, as he had been told. But on the other hand... the risk that the renegades would attack exactly now, that they’d find out that Crumbly was right here, wasn’t too high. The A-Ts upstairs though... He decided to just pop in for a second, just to check up on them.

  Stop it, don’t be a fool, he thought. You won’t help them alone. And you’ll screw up the matters here.

  He sighed heavily, walked up to the intern, and sat on the bench, next to her. He stared aimlessly at the opposite wall, not in the mood for a pleasant banalities exchange. Thankfully, the girl seemed tired enough not to want to talk either. So they sat in total silence.

  Suddenly, Vesper raised his head, and stared ahead with unseeing eyes.

  This damn, overwhelming feeling again. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

  With the guys upstairs. A really nasty situation.

  And it was so bad, he couldn’t ignore it. He just couldn’t.

  “Excuse me,” he said, getting up from the bench.

  And then he started to run.

  Fourth floor, Block B. Surgery.

  He lunged into the clinic, opening the door with a swift push. He saw the guard guys’ worried faces immediately. He walked up to them briskly.

  “What’s going on?” he asked quickly. “Hi, Adam.”

  “Hey, Jurek,” Adam replied, clearly worried. “Something’s wrong with Henry, Martin, and Charlie. You know, they were in pretty serious condition, but it got worse a moment ago. Seriously.”

  “I heard one of the doctors say that they were practically reanimating a corpse,” the other one added. “Fucking fuck...” his voice broke off suddenly.

  Vesper glanced around, his hearth thudded uneasily. The bitter taste of helplessness grew in his mouth. There was nothing he could do. And he definitely couldn’t hang around the busy doctors, they’d kick him out unceremoniously, without giving a hoot about his ID.

  He studied the windows and doors carefully. Afternoon sun glimmered through the curtains, painfully wounding his eyes, despite the UV filter contacts he stuck in his eyes. But there was no sign of the renegades. Everything was peaceful and silent... even surgical sounds didn’t reach them here. Only some nurse was walking down the hall, carrying a large tray of blood test tubes in both her hands. The sun was at her back, so Vesper narrowed his eyes; it was difficult for him to look at her. She walked right by, not paying attention to the police officers standing by the wall. Only when she was right at the door, she glanced at them pleadingly.

  “Could any of you gents open it for me?” she said glancing at her tray-occupied hands.

  “Of course,” Vesper moved immediately.

  He opened the door for her with a polite smile. She thanked him with a short nod, and looked into his eyes... and he nearly lost his breath. At the first glance, the girl was just plain. Pale, without make-up, with the standard hospital weariness painted on her face. Only when her lids rose up and her eyes flashed up at him, it was as if he faced a secret, wild element. He really wanted to enter that storm, find out more about it, stay within it, just for a moment...

  He swallowed rapidly. He wanted to say something, anything, start even a shred of communication. But she looked away, and slipped through the open door. She walked briskly to the opening elevator, and got inside. The metal door closed momentarily... and the magic was gone.

  Vesper blinked, coming back to reality. He swore under his breath, calling himself the worst son of a bitch. His colleagues are dying, and he’s chasing skirts. And human ones, on top of that, definitely not for him.

  Renegades, where were those damn renegades? He glanced around again, as if expecting the shots, explosions... nothing. Just that steady feeling that something bad had happened.

  The doctor left the room, and looked at the policemen. He shook his head slowly and silently. Their throats tightened in sudden grief. They understood him without words.

  Vesper hung his head, sighed heavily. Well, he did what he could. Nothing more.

  “I’m going back to Piotr,” he told the A-Ts. “If something happens, call.”

  “Sure,” they agreed quietly. “Sure.”

  He nodded at them in answer, then he turned around and left the floor. He ran down the stairs. He stiffened in sudden fear once he got to the radiology unit.

  The intern was gone. So was Crumbly.

  He ran into orthopedics, and lunged for the first open door. Glanced inside. No, it wasn’t here... here were only a few men, nearly all covered in plaster, suffering in peace.

  He got to the next door and glanced inside. He stopped instantly, ripped his glock from the holster, and molded into the doorframe in absolute silence, glancing into the room’s depths.

  An inconspicuous man wearing jeans and a sweater stood on the tall windowsill. He held the inter
n to himself with his left hand. His right hand was raised high, as if he held onto the wide-opened window’s frame on the outside. Vesper ran his tongue on his suddenly dry lips, recognizing the enemy momentarily. A renegade, damn it.

  Crumbly was aiming his gun at the intruder, his hands shaking with the effort.

  “If you shoot me, we’ll both fall—me and the white-clad girl,” the renegade said calmly. “Fourth floor, that will be enough. Two dead bodies at once.”

  “What do you want?” Crumbly swallowed eagerly.

  “You,” the other said. “We just want you. The girl is unimportant, of course. But if there is a need...” he motioned outside with his head. “Art of flying. Bye bye.”

  “You will die yourself,” the A-T said furiously.

  “Jihad is jihad,” the other cut him off briskly. “But there’s another solution.”

  The policeman stared at him questioningly.

  “You will go through that window yourself,” the renegade suggested. “It won’t be a long flight. Just enough for your actions in Polfa.”

  Crumbly swallowed again. He stared at the sky beyond the window, flashing the clearest blue. He took a step forward.

  He would do it, Vesper realized, watching him. The fucking protector of widows and children would do it! He observed the renegade’s concentrated face, his thoughts raced wildly through his brain. They don’t really care for the A-Ts suicide. There were a lot more of them there, waiting for him. They would make sure he didn’t break his head, and take him with them. Crumbly would become a renegade. He was a skilled, trained killer... They needed those, they lacked those.

  Crumbly walked to the window with a slow, determined step. The renegade watched him with a wide smile, as if greeting a good friend. As if the matter was already won. Was he so sure that the policeman would follow his order without protest?

  He doesn’t even have to jump, Vesper realized. They have a sniper there, hidden somewhere under the opposite building’s roof. Crumbly would get shot. The renegade would drop the chick anyway; she’d seen too much already... And then he would take the man away.

  It wasn’t a decision; it was a reflex. The nighter pushed the door open with his shoulder swiftly, lunging inside the room. He shot the renegade, twice between the eyes, twice in the heart. He lunged for Crumbly, pushing him to the ground while the vampire disappeared with the girl.

  Some huge force jerked Vesper, once, twice... the third time forcing him to his knees. A wave of heat spread over his breast.

  I was right, he thought, they had a sniper outside.

  The air got into his lungs, burning with live fire, and got outside, taking droplets of blood with it. He rested his hands on the floor, and his head spun lightly. I didn’t hear the sound of the bullet, fleeted through his thoughts. So it’s true what they say. Bullets whistle around, but you never hear the one meant for you.

  Crumbly was just getting up, staring at him, horrified. His hand went to the nurse-call button.

  “No,” Vesper stopped him in a hoarse voice. “We’re getting out of here. There’s too many of them. We can’t manage here... alone.”

  The A-T nodded, crawled up to him, not going over the windowsill’s line of sight. It’s lucky he was so clear-headed, Vesper thought with relief. He doesn’t shout things like ‘I’m wounded,’ or say that the hospital is the best place for me, after all. That Crumbly wasn’t dumb. Good thing he didn’t become a renegade... for now.

  “Let’s go,” he whispered decisively. “Hall, stairs, parking. Go!”

  The stairs were in semi-darkness, and the enemy could be hiding at every turn. Weakness, overwhelming weakness, soft legs, but they still had to carry him forward. March, man, the one who doesn’t march, dies. Vesper’s white shirt was all covered in blood. Even the tightly buttoned blazer couldn’t really hide that fact. Crumbly was next to him, wearing hospital-issue striped pajamas, swaying on his legs. People’s startled gazes lighted on them, but nobody said a word. It’s a hospital after all, where would those two be, if not here?

  They mixed themselves with a larger group of people, the guard didn’t notice them at the exit. Now for the worst, the parking lot’s open space. Renegade snipers were probably waiting somewhere on the roofs. Luck, simply luck... the snipers either didn’t see them, or maybe were busy with something else?

  Never mind, it’s all unimportant, he thought. Neither Crumbly nor Vesper could save anyone else today. If they could save themselves, it would be a miracle.

  The nighters’ black BMW stood in the parking lot, looking untouched. But if the renegades were here first, if there was a bomb underneath it... too bad, then they were out of luck. They had no other choice, they had to get in. Bulletproof glass and reinforced steel were their last hope, a little bit of safety.

  So they got in. The key turned easily in the ignition; the engine began to work in a quiet cat-like purr. Vesper closes his eyes instinctively...

  Everything was okay, no flaming river erupted from the car.

  Vesper drove slowly. The world darkened before his eyes every now and then, only to recall its natural colors with an unbelievable effort.

  The car rolled out of the parking lot, turned onto Woloska Street, speeding up.

  Home, just that single thought pounds in Vesper’s mind. Get home.

  Crumbly sat next to him in silence, like he didn’t care one way or another.

  Vesper drove through the broken-down gate for a second time that day. He stopped the car right by the human entrance.

  “Welcome home,” he told Crumbly. “Welcome to the nighters’ base.”

  The other glanced over the pine crowns, swaying gently all around. He nodded, grabbed the door handle and fell out of the car.

  He got up before Vesper could limp over to him, and shook his head in refusal, in a resentful gesture, saying, ‘I can handle it myself.’

  They dragged themselves so the door. The guard glanced at Vesper, and clear relief was painted on his face.

  “At least you came back,” he said, opening the door. “Good thing at least you came back.”

  The nighter felt like he wanted to cry.

  He led Crumbly along the long hallway, holding him up when he stumbled in the dark. They finally got into the TV hall.

  One glance at the courtyard and Vesper’s face brightened in a shy sense of relief. The black Bell 412 EP stood in the yard.

  “Dominus,” he whispered. “Pater advenit. Salvati sumus. Salvati.”

  Crumbly stared at him, askingly. He must have not understood Latin.

  “Ultor came,” Vesper explained, laughing slightly hysterically. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. He will take care of us. You, me.”

  The living quarters’ side door opened, and praetorians ran into the hall in a black row.

  “The guard gave word that you came back,” Celer said, grabbing Vesper by the shoulders. “Such luck. Go get ’em some food,” he said briskly to his colleagues.

  Two praetorians went to the bar and topped off two glasses, then handed the drinks to them. Vesper grabbed one and gulped it down. Crumbly followed his example, but pulled the glass from his lips after a few sips.

  “Disgusting,” he grimaced. “Is it some medication or something?”

  They stared at him, astonished.

  “What are you talking about, man?” Celer said impatiently. “It’s normal, neutral blood. Don’t worry, double tested, without any additives.”

  Crumbly paled.

  “Blood?” he asked, staring at the glass’ contents.

  “Well, what did you want?” the praetorian sighed. “Of course it’s blood. It’s good. Drink, and don’t whine.”

  “Right,” Crumbly said and fell to his knees, throwing up on the carpet.

  “Oh fuck,” Celer finally understood. “Human. You brought a human here?” he stared at Vesper in astonishment.

  “There was no other way,” the nighter choked out with difficulty. “There really was no other way.”
<
br />   “I’m sorry, I didn’t feel you,” Celer said to the A-T, who still knelt on the ground, wiping his mouth. “I totally didn’t expect a human here. I’m sorry. We’ll find something... human. Once again, I’m sorry.”

  “I have to fucking wake up already,” Crumply responded and fainted, falling to the carpet helplessly.

  Vesper stared at him with pity, he fainted, what a wimp...

  And suddenly his head spun.

  ***

  The world loomed before his eyes, drowning in a sticky fog.

  “It’s bad,” Vesper whispered with difficulty. “It’s bad...”

  “Very bad,” Nidor confirmed, leaning over him, his eyes flashing with worry. “But don’t worry, we’ll get you out of it. Ultor will take care of you as soon as he gets back from the city, you’ll see.” He sat on the bed and adjusted the blanket.

  “Tell me...” the nighter asked, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Tell me, so I know... and not assume... the guys?”

  “We pulled them from the city,” Nidor answered slowly. “Thankfully, they didn’t kill anyone. They’re sitting in the Bunker right now, howling with hunger. Maybe they’ll get out of it... the blood was only slightly contaminated, and artificially at that. It’s not exactly the same thing as the real deal.”

  Vesper wanted to ask another question but he didn’t have enough strength. He only stared questioningly.

  “We’re still looking for Umens,” the captain shook his head. “He hid somewhere with Maria, probably waiting for her to wake up. The standard is three days.”

  The nighter closed his eyes. He felt so weak... like never before.

  “All calm in the hospital,” Nidor added grimly. “Three A-Ts died from their wounds, but they were in critical condition. The intern wasn’t found; probably the renegades took her... with them, to their side.”

  Vesper wanted to sigh, but debilitating pain stopped his chest mid-breath. So he let the air out slowly, tasting the salty flavor of his own blood on his lips again.

  “We lost the storage,” the captain let out desperately. “It blew up with all the nighters guarding it. We don’t know how it happened. The major is there right now... cleaning up.”

  Vesper closed his eyes. Another tear rolled down his cheek.