She's Not Here

by Mandi Lynn

  “Is this the serum that you gave to Sam?” he said.

  “They haven’t moved forward with human studies yet, but if they did, they might have a cure. They just need to take that next step.”

  Her body was rigid. Willow’s focus was on the serum, and every move she made reflected around it. The longer Randy read the article, the more he was astonished by the research and also terrified of what Willow may be thinking.

  “What happened to the first set of mice?” He flipped through the pages of the article. It went on, stating the benefits of the trial and the hope for future trials, but it wasn’t until the very end that he saw the words: Specimens from test group A were given the vaccine but could not be resuscitated.

  “Now that Sam is far enough into the disease, I can extract cells and do the same they had done and create a vaccine. I’ll have to take as many samples as I can before she’s transferred,” she said.

  “Willow,” he said. She wasn’t listening. How fast had she forgotten the legal ramifications of what she had done? It already seemed to be beyond her that another doctor from another hospital might discover what she had done before she had any hope of finding a cure.

  “I’ll just have to stay late, to use the lab.”

  “Willow,” he said her name again. His voice was hard as he spoke. She looked up from her laptop. “The first set of mice died.”

  She didn’t want to say anything, so instead she bit her lip. There was nothing that she could say.

  “That was mice,” she said.

  “Yes, mice that are used and breed for experimentation. Sam is a human with a family that loves her.”

  “I won’t say it’s ethical,” she said. “But I am saying it might be successful.” Her face was stone. She had acted upon her will and it was too late to do anything about it.

  “This is a child’s life we’re talking about,” he said, his face twisting down.

  She felt a twang in her stomach after he spoke. He was right, but she wanted to push forward and test the limits. The child had no parents and no memories. To her, it was the perfect situation.

  “In the experiment they never tried the vaccine on the first round of mice. They were so preoccupied with test group B that it slipped by them until it was too late,” she said. She held her head down as she spoke. It could work, she just needed Randy to believe it as well. “We could do good by Sam. We could find the cure and get her back to health.”

  “Consent.” That was the only reply he had for Willow, and still, she never looked up.

  Willow paused before she spoke. “She didn’t give consent the first time. I’ve ready administered the serum once, so what harm could it be to do it a second time, especially if the second time could be to her benefit? All we know right now is what happens if nothing is administered. We don’t know what will happen if the vaccine is given to her.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. Randy was looking up, above, and past her. He was staring off into some faraway place that she wasn’t welcome anymore.

  “It’s not right,” he said and stood up from the table. She let her eyes follow him as he walked out of the room

  He went upstairs quietly, grabbing his bag from work as he walked by. He tiptoed across the house, and there wasn’t a creek of a floorboard as he ascended the stairs. She supposed at some point he must have shut the door to their bedroom, but she never heard so much as a click of the knob. She would have preferred a loud slam to the silence. Anger was easier to deal with than his disappointment.

  She would be invited into bed that night. Randy would crack open the door and leave it there for her to slink through. If she crawled into bed, he would reach out for her and the two of them could, at least for a moment, forget what she had done. But she couldn’t bring herself to walk up those stairs. The confused and shocked look in Randy’s eyes was etched into her mind, no matter how much she tried to shake the memory.

  Willow slept on the coach, curled into a ball, knowing full well she’d wake up with a sore back and stiff neck. She imagined Randy would come down the stairs looking for her and kneel on the floor in front of her, whispering to come to bed. It was something they had always done after long work-days: bed patrol. If someone fell asleep on the couch or at the table, it was the other person’s responsibility to wake them up and make sure they made it to bed.

  Willow could almost feel his lips pressed to her forehead as she imagined Randy calling her upstairs. Her imagination took flight when she heard footsteps above her, and she tightened her lids to pretend to be asleep when Randy came down, but the footsteps never came closer. There was a squeak of a door, and she knew he was in the bathroom. A minute later, there was a squeak again and the footsteps faded far away back into the bedroom. He never shut the door.

  Would the bed feel cold and empty without her?

  She closed her eyes, pretending she was with him, Randy curled beside her, until her mind took her away in a light sleep.

  — — — — —

  She hadn’t set an alarm, so Randy was the one who woke her up. He still had sleep in his eyes and stubble hadn’t yet been shaved. She wanted to pretend it was a Saturday morning, just the two of them.

  “You have to get ready,” he said, and any thought of the weekend was dismissed.

  He kissed her lightly, bristly, before turning way to make coffee in the kitchen. When she walked in, he already had her cup prepared.

  “Sam won’t be transferring.” He said the words so smoothly, so coolly, she almost didn’t catch them. She was about to bring the coffee to her lips but put the mug back on the counter.

  “What?”

  “My admin called last night. Left a message. She said Sam’s grandparents have changed their minds. They’ve decided time is of the essence, and they can’t waste any by starting over with a new doctor.”

  She wanted to be happy, but Randy was lost in some place far away. He ate his breakfast in small bites, his toast covered in butter but only one bite taken.

  “I need you to fix this,” he said, looking out the window. His shoulder sunk, and he was ready to give up. “Get Sam back to normal.”

  “With the vaccine?” She felt the lift in her voice when she spoke. There it was again, that hope that was always much too dangerous. She was on the edge of her seat, her senses ignited and ready to react the moment she was given the chance to take action.

  He sighed and put the toast in the trash and reached into the cabinet to get a mug, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He winced as he took a sip. He leaned against the counter for support. He didn’t want any part of this.

  “Do whatever it takes.” He closed his eyes, swore under his breath so he could barely hear it. “Just don’t let anyone else find out. Work quickly and efficiently, but most of all, make her better.”

  He said it, and that was all she needed. Her chin lifted, and she let her mind wander to what she could do the perfect the vaccine. She didn’t have time to make mistakes. So much was on the line and it was time to risk it all.

  Chapter 25

  “We just need to take some blood samples,” Dr. Ash said. It wasn’t the first time he had asked for blood samples, but this time it felt wrong. In the past, the samples were for finding out what ailed her, now it was for an experiment that might kill her.

  Sam never looked away when the needle came to touch her skin. She winced as it went into her arm, but both she and Dr. Ash watched the bright red liquid fill the vials. Normally, he let his nurses do this step, but he couldn’t let them know what the blood was being used for.

  “You can relax,” he said, letting her know to release the fist she had formed. The blood continued to flow fast and steady. He put the last vile into place and once it filled, pulled the needle away and replaced it with gauze.

  “Hold this,” he said.

  Sam held the cotton in place in the crook of her elbow, staring at it like she was trying to memorize the patterns and folds of the gauze. He put the vials into a small
baggy that had her name on it in fine, printed script. He taped the gauze in place and slipped the bagged vials in his pocket.

  “All right, that’s all set.” Sam watched him with full eyes.He had a habit of telling his patients every step he took, but this time he couldn’t tell her. Was she waiting for him to say something? Tell her what was going to happen next?

  “Do you need to take pup’s blood?” she said. Her eyes were hesitant when she spoke. She had her stuffed dog on the bed next to her, but her arm hid him against the side of her body.

  “Is he sick?” Dr. Ash asked.

  Sam looked over to the stuffed dog to examine him. She lifted him onto her lap and pulled his paws out for a closer look. Dr. Ash leaned down next to her and looked over her shoulder at the stuffed patient.

  “He seems limber,” he said, testing the range of motion on his front leg. “And his eyes are clear. I’d say he’s good to go, no need to take any blood samples.”

  Sam smiled and put the dog back by her side where he could nap the day away. She smiled to herself before Dr. Ash went out the door.

  “Good morning, Dr. Ash.”

  He jumped at the sound of the voice and moved to hide the bag of vials in his pocket. Jenna smiled as she walked down the hall with a quick wave. Dr. Ash let his hand linger in his pocket, making sure the vials were still there.

  — — — — —

  The room was sterile, possibly the cleanest area in the hospital. There were signs everywhere, labels, biohazard waste baskets. For now, the lab was empty all except for Willow, but she knew that could change in an instant. There was a chart on the door with the lab’s schedule so lab technicians could have their own space as they worked, but everyone also knew it was fair game any day the schedule was empty. Today was one of those days.

  She had her scrubs on, a hair net, gloves. Only the skin around her face was exposed. She pulled everything she might need out in front of her and slipped the three vials Randy had given her out of her pocket. Also in the pocket was the article that detailed how the anti-venom was produced. It wasn’t the full article, just the page on the formulation for the solution. She had done further research to double check the science behind the vaccine and was pleased when she saw, in theory, that it should work.

  There were test tubes all around her as she worked. Her work was too fast and meticulous. She labeled everything falsely, under another patient’s name. The test called for the vaccine to sit overnight, be tampered with further, and then allow to freeze. She had thought about doing the chemical work from home, but knew all the equipment she would need would be right there in the lab. Easier to hide the vaccine than to steal equipment that’s used on a daily basis.

  Her hands moved fast, and she didn’t let a drop of Sam’s blood go to waste. Only a small sample of blood was needed to create the vaccine—three vials went a long way. She could cure Sam and prove to the world she had found a vaccine for Alzheimer’s.

  A long list of side effects came to mind. The article had gone on and on about the adverse side effects that were seen in some of the mice. Some began vomiting, experienced weight loss, seizures, mania. The mice that overcame the side effects seemed cured. They could fight off Alzheimer’s. Those that couldn’t beat the side effects succumbed to them. Most died quickly after the vaccine was administered and the side effects appeared. A quarter of the mice died from the vaccine, but without the vaccine they would have died anyway.

  With a drop of iodine, she was done for the night. The vials had been mixed with the correct chemicals, and now all she could do was wait until twenty-four hours passed. The schedule on the wall said the lab would still be free tomorrow, and she hoped it stayed that way. Willow used steady hands to label the vials under the name of Riley Rose. Anyone who came across the vials in passing would assume it was one of thousands of patients, and no one would blink an eye.

  She left the lab, throwing her scrubs into the laundry basket and her gloves and hair net into the trash. She would be back tomorrow.

  — — — — —

  There was a man in the lab by the time Willow walked in. It was one of the new lab techs—she hadn’t quit learned the man’s name yet. He looked too young to be working with the lab equipment, but there he was, affixed above a petri dish. He looked up when she walked in.

  “Hey,” he said. His smile was quick and then he was back to his work. In a way, she was lucky. He was too new to know if she was a lab tech. To him, she was just another co-worker he hadn’t met yet.

  She had two options: tend to the vaccine as planned, or start over tomorrow when she had the lab to herself again. The solution called for a full 24-hour incubation period before the second round could be made, and she couldn’t afford to take longer than necessary to make the serum.

  “I’m Matthew, by the way.” He put down a dropper he was holding and exchanged it for an empty test tube.

  “Wendy,” she said. Wendy was a woman who used to

  work in the labs. She transferred to another hospital a few years ago.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, turning back to the test tube and petri dish in front of him.

  Willow worked her way across the room to where she had stored the test tube. She’d only have to add a few more chemicals, than freeze it, and she’d be done for another twenty-four hours.

  She turned to the shelf with the test tube, but she continued to look over her shoulder at Matthew. His back was to her, but even if he was facing her directly, she suspected he was too engrossed in his work to notice what she was doing.

  Her hands were rushed as she worked to get the proper supplies gathered around her. The vaccine had turned solid during the hours it set. Willow set up a Bunsen burner in front of her, making a sharp blue flame. She turned on the air vent above her head. On the bright side, Matthew wouldn’t be able to hear what she was doing, on the down side, she would never know when he got up to get more supplies.

  She kept looking over her shoulder as she used tongs to hold the test tube over the fire. A few seconds passed and the solid melted. She waited for the liquid to bubble and poured it into another test tube, letting it pass through a strainer on the way. The liquid that settled into the second test tube was pink. She used a dropper to add two dots of a bright blue liquid into the mixture. She stirred and it turned a dull purple. She grabbed another test tube and filled it with a clear liquid and gave it four drops of the purple solution.

  Her forearm heated up, too close to the Bunsen burner, and she dropped the test tube.

  “Shit,” she said. The tube shattered across the table. She rushed to turn off the Bunsen burner before she tried to clean up the mess.

  “You okay?” Matthew was standing next to her, wiping the liquid off the counter. She watched in horror as he dumped the shards of glass and strained paper towels into a bio-hazard waste basket. He looked over Willow’s arms and hands for cuts, but there were none. There was a small browned area on her scrubs from where the Bunsen burner had almost caught her on fire.

  “Make sure you turn that off once you’re done with it. Even if you move it out of the way, it can be a hazard, but I guess I don’t need to tell you that.” His words are light, a joking effort, but Willow wished only to push him away. If it were up to her, she would have preserved every drop of the vaccine, but instead it was in the trash.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I must be too tired.” Matthew was collecting all of the tools Willow had used and began putting them into a pile for sanitization. Everything she had done and accomplished was about to be bleached away.

  “We all have those days. I hope that wasn’t anything important.”

  “No,” she said. “No, I’ll just have to re-start. I hadn’t gotten very far. It will be easy.” But she was cursing herself. Nothing about this was easy. She wasn’t a lab tech. Everything she knew was off assumption or research she had done online. Being a nurse didn’t teach you how to make vaccines.

  “Anything I can help with?” he said.
>
  “No, I’m just going to take a break.”

  She put the Bunsen burner back on the high shelf with the others before walking out of the room. Matthew had cleaned her station. Any trace of Riley Rose was in the bio-hazard waste.

  She thought she heard Matthew mutter something as she walked away, but she never stopped to listen. Once the door to the lab was closed ,she ripped her hairnet and face mask away and threw all her scrubs into the trash.

  The way her heart began to race with her anxiety was starting to become a familiar feeling, but that did not make it comforting. Her body was anxious, not just her mind. She needed to do something, anything to make progress toward the goal of finding a cure, but for now she had no options. She was stripped and worn. Her efforts were useless.

  Restart. She’d have to do this all over again tomorrow.

  Chapter 26

  The skin was purple, almost black. It was the type of bruising that Avery sometimes saw in movies. In movies, it didn’t seem realistic, like the dark splotches were too dramatic, but they weren’t. The circle took over Sam’s hand, fading out at the edges. Sam’s hand was resting on her stomach, but Avery was left to wonder how much it hurt. Was it just when she bumped it, or did it hurt to move her hand as well? She told herself the bruise from the IV would fade soon enough.

  “Hi Sam,” she said.

  Sam didn’t smile when she walked into the room. She had a lot of off days, but even then, she was able to smile. Today, she laid in her bed, more tired than usual. The stuffed dog that Avery brought her was tucked in the crook of the arm that was resting on her stomach.