by I D Johnson
James suddenly felt under dressed, but he hoped they wouldn’t notice. Leave it to Margie to keep that from happening. “You came downstairs in your knickers when you knew we had company?” she asked from her spot next to Culpepper. She began to giggle and threw a hand over her mouth as if she might actually be trying to control herself. For once.
Despite his outfit, or lack thereof, James took a step into the parlor. “Uncle Culpepper, Mother says that this likely isn’t reversible for me—that I’m about to become… one of you. Is that so?”
Uncle Culpepper’s dark brown eyes shifted from one associate to the other before falling back on his nephew’s face. “Well, Jamie, I’d say that’s likely so. There’s no way to know for certain, but I’d think, after what you did last night, there’s probably no going back.”
He absorbed that information, breathing in deeply through his nostrils as if he might need to mull it around in his lungs. “Well, I don’t want to. I should like to go back to my life before yesterday, thank you very much.”
“Why?” the voice was shrill and unfamiliar. He turned his face to look at the orange-haired woman. “Why would ye wanna do that?” Her accident sounded cockney, and James instantly didn’t like her. Why was it her business?
“Jamie,” Culpepper said, leaning forward. “We won’t have to give you the Transformation serum, and if you want to go back to being human, it may happen. You’d just need to stay away from Vampires, that’s all.”
“But we need ‘im,” the woman interjected, looking at Culpepper in earnest.
“Cornelia….”
James interrupted. “Pardon me, miss,” he began, trying to keep his composure, “but I never asked for this. It was her,” he pointed at Margie. “She’s the one who wanted to join your ranks and chase the undead. Not I.”
“But we need you,” she repeated, only this time directly to him.
“I don’t rightly care what you need….”
“James,” Culpepper cut in, “as I said, there’s no guarantee that it won’t happen anyway, but you can certainly take some time to see. However, I will tell you, it will get painful rather quickly. Or at least it might. You could get lucky like Hezekiah here and have an easy Transformation.”
James cast his eyes at the man in the other chair, whom he took to be the said Hezekiah. He said nothing, only nodded.
“But with that sort of power soaring through you, I somehow doubt that.” Culpepper shook his head slowly from side to side.
“I’ll take my chances,” James said. Forgetting his manners entirely, James turned on his heel and headed back to his room. He needed to dress, and collect his thoughts, and relieve himself. He had been asleep for fourteen hours after all.
But he didn’t even get three steps up the stairs before his sister had his arm. “Jamie! Wait! What are you doing?”
James pulled away from her. “I told you. I don’t want this, Margie. I want to be a regular human doctor. That’s all I want to be.”
“But think of all the people you can help!” She took a few steps up the stairs, trying to keep up with him despite his stomping footfalls and her constant bouncing from one foot to the other.
“I can help plenty of people just now, thank you.”
“Not the way you helped me last night,” Margie argued. “You can actually save people’s lives. You can practically bring them back from the dead. Uncle said the only reason I even lasted until you got me home was because you must’ve zapped me back there on the street enough for me to last.”
He was at the top of the stairs now, and he no longer wanted to listen to his sister’s voice. “Go away, Marjorie.”
“But Jamie….”
“Stop calling me that!” he shouted. He turned to look at her. “I told you, I don’t want any of this! I don’t want to be a Guardian or a Vampire Hunter! I don’t want to be related to any of those people downstairs, I don’t want to help them, and I don’t want to help you! Leave me alone!”
The look in his sister’s eyes conveyed a shattered spirit. Her bottom lip began to quiver, and for once in her life, Marjorie looked at him as if he’d actually wounded her soul. “All right, James. I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry you followed me last night. I’m sorry I made you begin to Transform. I’m sorry you saved me.”
James let out a deep breath. The expression on her face was crestfallen, and it tugged at his heart, despite his angry outburst. “I didn’t mean I’m sorry I saved you, Margie….”
“No, it’s fine,” she said taking a step backward. “I can’t undo that, but I can promise you I’ll be out of here as soon as possible, once Uncle Culpepper administers the serum and I wake up.”
“Margie, I don’t want you to go.”
“It’s all right. It really is. Then, you’ll be an only child, just like Mother and Father always wanted.”
He opened his mouth as if to argue, but their mother came out of her room then. She had to have heard the remark. “Oh, Marjorie! Why would you ever think that?”
Without another word, Marjorie bounded down the stairs, back toward the parlor, their mother on her heels. What sort of an end that conversation might have, James wasn’t sure, but it didn’t involve him. He had enough worries of his own just now to continue to take on anyone else’s. Regardless of what anyone else thought of him, he wasn’t designed to be some sort of a super-human, demi-god, lifesaver. He only wanted to be a doctor and nothing more.
Chapter 8
Boston, Massachusetts, USA, 1885
Margie had been asleep for nearly two solid days when James left to go back to work two mornings past his conversation with Uncle Culpepper. Since that time, James had continued to feel the uneasy sensation in all of his appendages and had experienced some severe cramping in his midsection. He could definitely feel something was amiss, but he refused to accept that he was actually turning into one of them. Perhaps he’d just caught an ailment from a patient.
“We’ll likely be gone by the time you return today,” Uncle Culpepper said, stopping James just before he went out the door. “If your sister is awake, we’ll be off to catch the spook the pair of you were chasing the other night.”
“I bid you farewell, then,” James said, straightening his cufflinks.
“James, I can see that you’re uncomfortable. Letting us inject you will end all of that, and you can go on about your business without the aches and pains.”
He had gone back to bed to rest the other day when Uncle Culpepper had administered the serum to his sister; she’d screamed in agony for two minutes straight before she finally passed out. “No, thank you,” he replied.
Culpepper took a step in front of him. “I know it sounded painful with Margie, but that isn’t always the case. Sometimes, it’s nothing at all. Other times, it’s uncomfortable. But it’s over quickly. The serum will activate all parts of your body in less than two minutes. Then, you’ll slumber while your body changes over.”
Clearing his throat, James repeated himself. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in a bit of a rush to get back to my duties.” He wanted to return to the hospital the day before, but his father had already spoken to his supervisor and requested a second day off.
“Very well then,” Culpepper said. “You may change your mind, however, now that you’re up and about. It may make it worse.”
Ignoring the warning, James headed out into the fresh morning air. It was cool, but not too cold, and a nice breeze was blowing. He was thankful he could walk to work; it would give him an opportunity to clear his mind. It wasn’t too far to the hospital, and he had plenty of time.
He’d have to cross the alley, but this time he didn’t even bother to look in that direction. If there was something there, he didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to know it existed at all.
When he was within a half-mile of the hospital, he realized his legs were burning. It wasn’t the same sort of ache one gets from growing or from pulling a muscle while running. This
was something different entirely. He stopped for a moment to feel his own muscles in his legs. They felt larger than they had before, stronger. But the pain was still there, and now he noticed it in his arms as well. Refusing to acknowledge any of it, he walked on.
By the time he reached the hospital, the pain was a reality he could no longer ignore. Nevertheless, he had a job to do, and he greeted his colleagues with a smile, hoping none of them noticed how much he was struggling.
None of them said anything if they noticed, only welcomed him back. It wasn’t until he ran into the nurse, Annie, that a question was asked. “Dr. Joplin?” she said, peering up at him, as he was now taller than her, “are you feeling all right? You don’t quite look yourself?”
“I’m fine, Annie,” he assured her. She was still beautiful, even though she was now in her mid-twenties, and the fact that she had recently started courting one of the doctors closer to her age had James looking her direction much less frequently. Nevertheless, he considered her a friend, and clearly, she cared about him or else she wouldn’t have asked.
“There’s a patient who needs to see you,” she said, though her eyes revealed she had not quite dismissed her concerns.
“What’s the ailment?”
“He’s got an ulcer on his leg that won’t heal properly,” Annie replied.
“Let me have a look at it, then,” he replied, following her to the correct room, although the pain in his legs made it difficult.
He entered to find an older gentleman on the bed, his pant leg pulled up. “Good morning, Mr….”
“Stuart,” the man supplied. “I thought you were fetching a doctor.” The second part was directed to Annie.
Despite the fact that he was dressed like every other doctor in the hospital, James was constantly mistaken for an orderly or some other laborer because of his age. “He’s a doctor,” Annie assured the patient. “He just looks young.”
“He looks like he could be in nursery school.” Mr. Stuart’s leg must’ve been bothering him, as his disposition was rather rough.
“I’m Dr. Joplin,” James said, forcing a smile, “and I assure you, I can look after you just fine.”
Mr. Stuart grumbled, but James ignored him and bent to examine the ulcer. It was about the size of a half dollar, red with a bit of ooze coming out of it. James asked Annie for a damp cloth so that he could wash it, hoping to see the source of the irritation better that way, but as he touched Mr. Stuart’s leg to reposition it so that he could better see, the ulcer began to clear up on its own. Flabbergasted, James watched as the wound nearly disappeared before his eyes.
“What’s that you’re doing now? It stings a bit,” Mr. Stuart said. From his prone position, he couldn’t see what was actually happening to his leg.
Suddenly, James felt very tired, although not quite as exhausted as he had when he’d saved Margie. He took a few deep breaths, and Annie handed him the cloth, more concerned with him than the patient, her eyes locked on his face. “Dr. Joplin, are you all right?”
“Yes, fine,” James replied. He took the cloth before she had a chance to look down and covered the spot on Mr. Stuart’s leg where the ulcer had previously been located. “Get me a bandage, won’t you? And some salve.”
Annie continued to stare at him for a moment before she stepped aside to get the required items. James knew he needed to let go of Mr. Stuart if he was to have a chance to recover, but releasing him just now would give Annie a chance to see what he’d done. She was back in a moment, and he took the salve and slathered it on before wrapping the bandage around as tightly as he could. Wiping his hands off, he said, “There you are, Mr. Stuart. Check the wound again tomorrow, and I think you’ll find everything much better.”
“But, I’ve tried a salve, an expensive one. And it didn’t do anything.”
“This one is much better,” James assured him, and before he could argue more, he hurried out of the room.
Unsure of exactly where to go to catch his breath, James took a seat in the doctor’s lounge. He was sure there would be other new patients he’d need to see and many he’d already treated who would need checking. But he didn’t have any surgeries scheduled for that day, barring any emergencies, and he decided he should just rest his head for a few moments.
A noise behind him caught his attention, and he looked up to see Annie standing there. “Here you are,” she said, her arms crossed beneath her ample chest. “Dr. Joplin, you are acting very peculiar, and I insist you tell me what’s going on right now. Or else I’ll have to call Dr. White and ask him to send you home for the day.”
“No, don’t do that,” James pleaded, turning to face her. “I’m fine. I truly am. I’m just… tired.”
“Your father said you were ill. If there’s a chance you could infect the patients…”
“Oh, there’s little chance of that,” James muttered.
“What is it then?”
There was no way for him to explain it, not to Annie, not to anyone. Everyone who knew about the Ternion, the secret world of Vampires, Hunters, and Guardians, was sworn not to tell anyone. Ever. He’d have to think of some other explanation for his condition, and yet nothing came to mind. “I can’t tell you,” he finally said. “But it isn’t catching.”
“You should go home,” Annie stated, matter-of-factly.
“I don’t want to go home,” James said. He rose up out of his chair but nearly lost his balance as the world swirled around him.
Annie caught him and forced him to sit back down. “That’s it. I’m talking to Dr. White. Whether it’s catching or not, you’re in no condition to be treating other patients.”
“No, Annie, please.” James reached out and caught her arm. “If I go home… they’ll….” He couldn’t finish that sentence. How could he make her see that returning home meant they’d make him take the serum and change who he was forever?
“If you go home, they’ll make you warm soup and let you rest,” she said, dropping to her knees and peering into his eyes. “You’re sick, Jamie.” She hadn’t used his given name at all, let alone his nickname, since he’d graduated from medical school. “You need to get better.” She stood, but not before kissing him gently on the forehead. The energy James had felt soaring through his body for days was now replaced with butterflies in his stomach and a tightness in his abdomen.
He could no longer argue, however, and as he watched her go, he sat and watched, trying to accept that life as he knew it was over. He’d have no choice now but to take the injection and become something he never wanted to be.
A few hours later, James was dressed in his nightshirt stretched out on his own bed beneath the blankets, as his mother and sister stood looking on. Uncle Culpepper sat in a chair next to his right side, and James stared up at him, completely uncertain.
“It will make it all better, I promise.” Uncle Culpepper spoke to him like he was a small child with a boo boo, but as he’d nearly drug himself home after Dr. White insisted he go home and rest until he felt better, James just wanted the pain to stop. He’d been assured the hospital would welcome him back once he was himself again. They just had no idea that would never be the case.
“You’ll feel a small sting, and then, the medicine will start to course through your veins. Eventually, you’ll go to sleep.”
Beads of sweat spotted James’s forehead as he remembered his sister’s screams. He really didn’t want to experience that for himself. He glanced down at her, and Margie smiled at him reassuringly. “You can do it, little brother. I promise you. It’s not so bad.”
He wondered if she even remembered her own shrieks, but he didn’t say anything to her.
“Ready then?” Culpepper asked.
“Let’s get this over with,” James nodded.
He knew the routine well, having given injections himself many times before, but he preferred not to look. As Culpepper tied a tourniquet around his arm, James chose to focus on the smiling face of his mother. She looked concerned, but she
was trying to hide it. James thought she might just be upset because she knew he was in so much pain already. Likely, she would be just as relieved as he was once this was over with.
There was a slight stinging sensation as the needle went into his arm, and then a burning as the liquid entered his vein. Tempted as he was to get a full rundown on exactly what this concoction was and where it had come from, he had decided not to ask. Now, as the warm fluid spread throughout his body, he wished he would’ve. It seemed that molten lava might have been the main ingredient. James braced himself against the burn as it continued to spread and intensify.
“How are you doing?” Culpepper asked, pressing down on a piece of cotton he held to James’s inner elbow.
“It burns,” James managed.
“That sounds about right.”
“But you’re not screaming yet, so that’s something,” Margie observed, a large smile on her face.
James wanted to think of some sort of smart remark to make back to her in response, but he couldn’t think of much of anything. Right now, all he could do was concentrate on breathing so that he didn’t forget to do it. Every ounce of his body felt as if it was on fire inside now, and while he was sure it wasn’t as intense as burning at the stake must be, it was certainly more than a little uncomfortable.
Then, there was a shift, and the fire began to intensify, pulsating almost. James held his breath, gritting his teeth against the sensation. He knew his eyes were watering, and he fought back against tears since he had no intentions of letting his sister see him cry.
“How… long… did… you… say?” he stammered, hoping his uncle could make sense of the question.
“Usually a couple of minutes, give or take,” he replied with a shrug. He was in the process of securing a bandage to James’s arm now, and seemed preoccupied with that. “Eventually, you’ll pass out.”
“From the pain!” Margie chimed in, and James shifted his eyes to his sister’s face. “This… is … all… your… fault!”
