Meds (The Asylum Trilogy Book 2)

by Amy Cross

  Stopping suddenly, she took another step back.

  “Who are you talking about?” Elly asked. “Why can't you tell her all of this yourself?”

  “Tell her myself?” Mary replied, as if the idea was insane. “How can I tell her myself? She'd just end up hurting me again. I keep out of her way. She knows I'm here, though, and it's driving her out of her mind.” She smiled. “Good. I like it that way. Tell her I'm keeping it and she'll never get it. Tell her there's nothing in the world that'd ever make me betray Annie.” With that, she turned and began to hurry away. “And if you find it, come and give it to me,” she added. “Don't give it to her. Annie would want me to find her, that's how it should be.”

  “Wait!” Elly called after her. “I really don't think you're supposed to be here!”

  She watched as the old woman disappeared around the next corner.

  “Hey! Who are you? Who's Annie?”

  Hurrying after her, she reached the corner, only to see that there was no-one in the next corridor. For a moment, all Elly could do was stare, trying to work out where Mary had gone, before she heard more footsteps in the corridor above. Just as she looked up, she felt her phone vibrating, and when she looked at the screen she saw that someone was trying to reach her from the hospital's office. At least, she figured, it wasn't her mother again.

  “Hi,” she said as she replied, “sorry I'm taking a while, I just -”

  “Get back here!” Sharon shouted, sounding frantic. “It's an emergency!”

  ***

  “The seizure started a couple of minutes ago,” Sharon explained as she slipped a needle into Thomas Clay Lacy's arm and injected him. “Came out of nowhere, I don't know what's causing it.”

  “His BP's way off,” Elly replied, looking at the monitor for a moment before turning to see that the patient was still shaking violently, rattling the entire bed. “Does he have any pre-existing conditions other than the stroke? Epilepsy, maybe?”

  “Not according to his notes, but maybe they're incomplete. Wouldn't be the first time.”

  “Where's Doctor Carmichael?”

  “Ignoring his phone, as usual.” Reaching over to the trolley, Sharon grabbed a fresh needle. “I'm going to give him something to paralyze him for a little while.”

  “But -”

  “No arguments!” she hissed. “At this rate he's either gonna hurt himself or hurt one of us.” She filled the syringe from a bottle on the counter. “We just need him to calm the hell down while we wait for Doctor Carmichael.”

  “I know, but -”

  Elly watched as Sharon slid the needle into the man's neck and pushed the plunger down. Mr. Lacy's body was still shaking uncontrollably, but after just a few seconds the attack seemed to pass and he began to fall still.

  “It's not a perfect solution,” Sharon muttered breathlessly, dropping the needle into a nearby bin, “but sometimes you have to improvise around this place. Lesson number one for you, girl. Do things by the textbook, and people get hurt. Use your common sense, on the other hand, and you might actually be able to help.” She turned and checked the monitors.

  “You can't just knock a patient out like that!” Elly told her.

  “Can't I? 'Cause I think I just did!” She tapped a button on the monitor, cycling through a couple of different screens. “Some of these numbers don't add up. Hopefully Doctor Carmichael'll be able to make sense of it, 'cause I sure as hell can't.” Sighing, she headed to the door. “Wait here, I've got an idea.”

  “Should I call someone?” Elly asked.

  “Like who? It's just us here.”

  Left alone in the room, Elly looked down at Mr. Lacy and saw that he seemed calm enough. She knew, though, that whatever had caused his sudden seizure, it had been temporarily hidden rather than properly dealt with, and she couldn't help thinking that at any other hospital he'd have been immediately taken for further tests. Just as she was about to go and grab a stethoscope, she noticed that one of the old man's eyes was twitching slightly, and she leaned closer to see if maybe he was starting to come around.

  Suddenly one of the monitors began to beep rapidly. Turning, Elly took one look at the readings and immediately realized what was happening.

  “Heart attack,” she whispered, before turning to the door. “Heart attack!” she shouted. “Sharon! His heart's stopping!”

  Racing to the far wall, she grabbed the defibrillator. With no sign of Sharon, she hurried to the bed and took a moment to make sure the patient was clear before hitting the button to charge the pads. Pulling Mr. Lacy's shirt open, she placed the pads against his chest and waited a moment, before squeezing the triggers to send a shock directly into the old man's body.

  Except nothing happened.

  She squeezed again, before turning the pads around and realizing, to her horror, that they weren't working. She quickly checked the connections, but there was nothing obviously wrong with the equipment.

  The tone on the monitor suddenly changed, indicating a flat-line.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, looking around for another pair but not seeing any. Switching the pads off, she pushed them aside and then, with no other options, she climbed up onto the bed, kneeling over the old man and starting to give him a heart massage. “Sharon!” she shouted. “Get in here!”

  Looking down at the Mr. Lacy's face, she saw that his skin was starting to become pale and clammy, and his lips were turning blue.

  “Come on!” she hissed, continuing with the massage. “Just stay with me.”

  Glancing at the monitor, she saw her own reflection in the black screen. The patient's numbers were dropping.

  “Please,” she whispered, looking back down at him as she continued to work, “come on, you can do it. You're not going to slip away yet.”

  After a moment, she looked at the monitor, but the numbers were still down. Just as she was about to turn back to the patient, however, she saw to her shock that not only could she see her own reflection in the screen, but she could also see another figure standing right behind her. There was a woman wearing some kind of old uniform, although the front was stained dark. Instinctively, she turned but saw that there was no-one else in the room.

  “What the hell's going on in here?” Sharon shouted, hurrying back through and immediately checking the monitors. She turned a couple of dials for a moment, before turning to Elly. “He's gone, baby. He's slipping away, let him go.”

  “Not yet,” Elly replied, looking back at the monitor and seeing only her own reflection this time.

  “Look at him,” Sharon continued. “Do you really think it's worth all this effort to keep him alive just so he can be a vegetable for a few more months? You need to learn when to stop, girl.”

  “He's not dead yet,” Elly replied, increasing the rhythm of the massage. “There's a chance.”

  Sighing, Sharon flicked a few more switches on one of the monitors. “First strokes, now this. He's gonna be gone any -”

  Suddenly one of the other monitors began to let out a series of steady beeps.

  “It's working,” Elly continued. “I think he's going to be okay.”

  “No,” Sharon replied, “he still...” Her voice trailed off as she took a look at the readings. The flat-line ended, replaced by a slow but steady pulse. “Well, I'll be damned...”

  As she worked, Elly kept her eyes on the monitor by the bed, and after a few seconds she began to see more signs of improvement. The old man wasn't out of the woods yet, however, so she continued to work, focusing on maintaining a smooth, consistent rhythm. For several minutes, with Sharon watching, she continued to apply the massage, until finally she felt confident to stop. Still kneeling over Mr. Lacy, she watched the monitors and saw that most of his levels were returning to normal. She was poised to start working on him again if necessary, but as the seconds ticked past, she finally realized that he was recovering. The color was returning to his face.

  “I think it's okay now,” she said after a moment, barely able to be
lieve that her efforts had worked. “I think he's pulling through.”

  “You saved him,” Sharon replied. “For what it's worth, anyway.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” she asked as she climbed off the bed.

  “I just don't...” Sighing, Sharon checked the levels in the drip. “When someone's in this bad of a state, I just think maybe it's better to let 'em slip away when their body gives up.”

  “So you'd have just let him die?” Elly asked, shocked by the suggestion.

  “I'd've let his body make its own decision.” She paused. “Do you really think he'd thank you? He's just gonna vegetate like this.”

  “The defibrillator didn't work,” Elly replied as she re-buttoned the old man's shirt. “I tried it, but nothing happened.”

  “I told you there are no frills round here,” Sharon muttered, picking up the paddles and starting to take the defibrillator back to its mounting on the wall, “although I guess this thing shouldn't be completely dead.” She flicked a few switches on the paddles, to no avail. “I'll get maintenance to take a look. For future reference, there's another one in the office that's definitely good.”

  “That's too far away.”

  “I know, but it's not my decision. I'm not in charge.”

  “We can't just let people die,” Elly continued, checking once again that Mr. Lacy's readings were looking good. “You never know, he might wake up. There's still a chance, and -”

  Suddenly remembering the other reflection she'd seen in the monitor, she looked around, but there was no sign of anyone. She'd been too busy to pay much attention earlier, but she was convinced that for a fraction of a second she'd seen a woman standing right behind her. Still, the idea seemed ludicrous now and she certainly didn't want to say anything to Sharon. She figured she'd just let it be and hope it had been a trick of the light.

  “So did you bump into Mary?” Sharon asked as she grabbed a small jar containing some kind of clear solution.

  “Who is she?” Elly asked.

  “That's a good question.” She grabbed another syringe and began to fill it from the jar. “She moved into the place after it was abandoned. Some say she used to be a patient here before the fire, others say she's just some old homeless kook who doesn't want to be out in the cold. Either way, there's nothing we can do about her, not without a security team. Every time she's chased away, she just comes back, so no-one really bothers anymore.” She held the syringe up and tapped the side, before giving Mr. Lacy another injection. “She's harmless enough. She never comes into this part of the building, she's got more than enough room in the damaged wings. Seems to have a bee up her butt about something, though.”

  “She wanted me to give someone a message. She was kind of rambling, but she said -”

  “Let me guess,” Sharon continued with a faint smile. “She was going on about how she's got something and she won't let it go?”

  “Do you know what she's talking about?”

  “Not really, but it's all she ever talks about. Quite often when she hears someone going to that storeroom, she shows up and starts ranting.” She grinned. “That's why we like to send the newbies up there on their first night, to give 'em a bit of a scare. Don't worry, you won't need to go again. It's not even a real storeroom, I just use it to freak people out.”

  “There was someone else in that part of the building,” Elly continued, “someone up on the sixth floor.”

  “That'll be the boss,” Sharon replied, “or, as she's known informally, the bitch. I don't know why, but she often goes into that section. Mary doesn't seem to like her for some reason, seems they don't like each other for some reason.” She shrugged. “I ain't got time to worry about it. Mary's harmless.”

  “But she can't just be allowed to roam the hospital like that,” Elly continued, “I mean, it's not right. It's not safe! If she's homeless, she should get help.”

  “Go and help her, then.”

  “How?”

  “No idea, genius, but if you're so concerned, go figure it out. I'll give you some free advice, though. Try to focus on the things that really need doing around this place, because trust me, you won't have any extra energy to go around interfering in other things.”

  “But -”

  “And we're good here,” she added, checking the monitor again, “at least for now. Mr. Lacy seems stable enough, so I'm going to take a look at some of the others. As for you... Well, you did good work here. I still don't think it was worth keeping the old guy alive at all costs, but at least we know you can handle yourself in a crisis.” She paused. “Maybe you're not quite as useless as you look.”

  “Thanks,” Elly replied. “I think.”

  “And try to -”

  Stopping suddenly, Sharon looked toward the door, and for a moment all the color seemed to have drained from her face.

  Elly turned, but all she saw was an empty doorway.

  “Let's just get on with things,” Sharon continued after a moment, clearly a little shaken. “Come on, Mr. Lacy isn't the only patient here, you know. We'll split the others between us.”

  “Are you -”

  “Less questions, more doing,” Sharon said firmly, heading to the door. “I don't have time to babysit you all night.”

  Chapter Four

  “I gave Mrs. Cathcart in room five another sleeping pill,” Elly said as she made some notes on the wall-chart in the office, “and I told Mr. Burrows in room eight that I'd get someone to examine his chest. He says it hurts to breathe in.”

  “He's been saying that for years,” Sharon replied, focusing on the game she was playing on her phone. “He's still with us, though. Lucky us.”

  “I took a sample from Mr. Lacy,” she added, holding up a vial of blood before dropping it into an envelope, “I thought I'd run some tests on his blood values, just to be certain, so I'll get them sent out in the post this morning. I figured that way, they'll be back next week and we can start to narrow things down. Also, I noticed a rash around his waist, and I think maybe he's allergic to the band on his pants, so I found some in one of the cupboards with a different material and I switched them for him. I want to monitor the rash for a few days and see if it clears up.”

  “Been busy, huh?”

  “Also, I told Mr. Anderson in room two that -”

  “That's okay,” Sharon said, not looking up from the screen. “Honey, it's tiring just listening to you. I won't remember all of this anyway, just make sure it's on the chart. It's the day shift's problem, or at least it will be in...” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Eight and a half minutes,” she continued, resuming her game. “Personally, I always like to leave 'em with plenty to do when they arrive. Those lazy assholes have no idea how hard we work at night.” She jabbed at the screen. “Damn it, I was about to level up.”

  “I might go and take another look at Mr. Burrows,” Elly replied, grabbing a stethoscope from the counter. “He really didn't sound too good and I'm worried about that cough he's developing.”

  “Leave it.”

  “I'll be right back.”

  “Leave it,” Sharon said firmly, grabbing her arm before looking back down at the game and sighing. “Damn it, girl, I was on for a high score there.” She set her phone down. “It's shift changeover time, which means we get to relax a little, okay? It's not like we got much of a break during the night, just enough time to eat a sandwich and take a pee. Trust me, once you've been working here long enough, this brief gap at the end of the day is gonna be your ace in the hole, it's gonna be what keeps you sane. Now chill, you're making me edgy.”

  Elly sighed.

  “Employee of the month,” Sharon added, pointing at the photo of herself on the wall. “Twelve months running.”

  “Congratulations, but -”

  “So don't you think that means I know what I'm talking about?”

  “Yes, but still, Mr. Burrows -”

  “Will be in the very capable hands of the day team in five and a half minutes' tim
e,” Sharon said firmly. “The first thing they'll do is read the chart, so just make sure it's accurate.” She grabbed her bag and began to stuff a few things inside. “What's up, are you worried about making another mistake? If you're trying to prove yourself, then chill, 'cause you already did that tonight.”

  “I just want to do a good job,” Elly replied. She began to tidy the files on the desk, and when she was done with that she grabbed a cloth from one of the cupboards and started wiping the surfaces down.

  “You'll never get it off your record, you know,” Sharon said suddenly.

  Elly turned to her.

  “The mistake you made,” Sharon continued. “It'll always be there on your nursing record. If you think that by doing a good job here you can somehow change the past... I've got news for you, it ain't gonna happen.”

  “I don't think that,” Elly replied, finishing with the cloth and then going over the details on the board one more time, to make sure they were accurate. “I know it'll always be there.”

  “Huh.” Getting to her feet, Sharon tossed a few more things into her bag before tying the top shut. “I was like you when I first came here. I thought I could somehow redeem myself in the eyes of the job, or in the eyes of God, or my own eyes, whatever. I learned after a while that that's not what it's about. It's about just surviving. Sure, I made a mistake one day, a long time ago at a different hospital, but I paid for it. None of that stuff affects me now. What matters is getting through each shift.”

  Elly watched as the older woman headed to the door. “Do you still think I should have let Mr. Lacy die?” she asked finally. “Is that what you would have done?”

  Sharon sighed, clearly exhausted. “I'd have let him slip away peacefully. I'd have let him break free from his bodily pain and go into the arms of the Lord. There's no point forcing someone to stay when it's their time to go. Mark my words, another week and he'll be outta here anyway with a tag on his toe. When you've been in this job as long as I have, you get a kind of sixth sense about these things, you start to smell death way before it actually arrives. It's his time coming real soon.”