I’m still as a statue, hardened like stone. They want me to take care of someone who’s dying? My heart sinks into my stomach, churning with anxiety.
“She’s too weak to get out of bed, so you’ll need to give her a bed sponge bath, and please, whatever you do, make sure you don’t drop her IV bag. If you do, the gravity will cause her blood to go back up into the IV line and possibly into the morphine bag, which will dilute it and make it harder to administer the correct dosage.”
The charge nurse describes the IV, what it looks like, where it hangs, and how it enters her veins. And she says not to touch her blood no matter what. My head spins with the newly acquired information.
“Whatever she has lives in her bloodstream and it’s lethal.” The dark-haired nurse hands me a paper. It reads like a tombstone, her name carved in black letters on the thin sheet of paper.
Alyssa Jenkins.
I can do this. Just go in, check her, and get out. Hopefully, she won’t want a bath or her linens changed. I knock on the door three times, drop my hand to my side, and that’s when I feel just how badly my body is shaking in anticipation.
“Go away,” Alyssa croaks weakly. I ignore her request and walk in, closing the door behind me. There’s a sheet hanging from the ceiling, which I assume is for her privacy, but it blocks my view of her and, for a moment, I’m thankful.
“Alyssa?” She doesn’t answer me and the fear of the unknown seeps into my bones. My palms sweat and my heart thumps with anxiety, so I stay behind the curtain. “I’m Lexi.” Still nothing. I bite my lip. “The nurses asked me to come check on you and see if there’s anything I could do for you.”
Please don’t die on me. Please don’t die. I clench my eyes shut, grab the sheet, and move it to the side. I exhale, pushing out all the fear that’s trapped in my chest, then open my eyes and look at her.
I gasp.
Alyssa’s eyes snap open. She gives me a blank stare and makes no attempt to talk as she turns her head toward the window. Her skin’s so thin it’s almost transparent, and her dry, cracked lips are the faintest shade of pink. She has crystal-blue eyes that contrast the dark circles underneath them, and her dirty-blond hair lies in silky threads across her makeshift pillow. Enclosed around her neck is a yellow brand for greed.
She glares at me. Her body trembles as her fragile finger points toward the door. “Get out. Now. Leave me alone.” She pulls the cover over her head.
I can’t believe it. Alyssa’s just a child.
She lies in a bed that swallows her whole and she curls up with a thin white blanket. Her head rests on a rolled-up towel and her eyes remain closed. I’m unable to look away, but out of the corner of my eye, I spot the folding chair across from her bed. I tiptoe over to it, slide down, and as soon as I sit, the darn thing makes an awful squeaky sound. I jerk forward. I feel light-headed as reality settles in, and I feel my insides squirm in panic. My eyes blur with heartbreak. I close them, and after a moment, the sensation fades, and I glance her way one last time.
I bolt from the room and close the door behind me before sliding down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest in exasperation. It’s not the kind of patient you want to take care of—ever. What hell this girl must be going through, knowing she’s going to die alone, just like the lady down the hall. Pain squeezes my chest tight.
The dark room envelops me. When I look up, he stands at the foot of the bed. His face is hard and cold. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. Knowing I can’t call for help, he sits next to me. His hot breath overpowers my sense of smell, and the callouses of his hands scratch my skin as he touches my arms. I cringe, but his arms wrap me up like a small child. I tense up and wait—the unknown, always the unknown. I don’t want to die, but at the same time, I wish I were dead.
“Lexi, can you hear me?”
I open my eyes and Sutton hovers over me with a worried expression. He reaches around my shoulders and helps me up. “You’re drenched with sweat. Are you all right?” He glances around for a nurse. “Amber, please grab my stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. At the nurse’s station.” The auburn-haired nurse Cole often talks to grabs his things and hands them over with a sour face. “Did you eat anything today? It could be your blood sugar—”
“I’m fine. Trust me. I get these dizzy spells occasionally and sort of check out for a while, but I always come around.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as I try to focus. “Please just let it go.”
His expression softens as he kneels in front of me. “I can’t let it go. I’m a doctor, remember?” He pushes his hair off his forehead. “I’ll find a way to make them stop.”
I know he can’t, but I’m not going to explain that to him, so I quickly change the subject. “Why can’t you help her?” I ask, pointing to Alyssa’s room.
He furrows his brow and releases a long, deep sigh as if reaching for an explanation. “She has an incurable virus. I have scientists working on finding the cure as we speak, but they’re nowhere close to finding one. I’ve already allocated too much pain medication. There’s not much else I can do.” He pauses to wipe his forehead with his hand. “How do you tell a thirteen-year-old she’s going to die? How do you tell her there’s nothing you can do to save her life?” He balls his hands into fists and then relaxes them like he’s releasing his pain. “I hate failing, and I’m failing her in every way possible.”
My heart breaks for him. I see the pain in his eyes when he speaks about her and wish there was something I could do to make it all go away. I know what it feels like to be a failure. It haunts you constantly.
“Can I get it?” I ask.
“No.” He shakes his head and gives me a distant look.
“Then how did she get it?”
“Look, you can’t get it, all right? So try not to worry about it.”
“Okay. Doesn’t she have family?”
“We’re all she’s got.” He leans against the door.
“Tell me what I can do to help, and I’ll do it.”
“I need you to be there for her. Be her friend.”
“Anything but that,” I say, shaking my head nervously. “I’m not the right person—”
“You’re exactly the right person.” He pats my arm.
“But she hates me. She told me to get out and leave her alone.”
“Because she’s scared. She came here without her family and she’s afraid to let anyone in.” His face softens. “Reminds me of someone else I know. Now, go say good-bye.”
Is he referring to me? He doesn’t know me.
I knock, but silence greets me as I nudge open her door. I stop behind the hanging sheet, unable to move any farther. “I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back in the morning. Would it be all right if I brought something for you?”
“Whatever,” she says.
I don’t respond as I leave. Sure, we’ll be great friends.
Cole sits on the nurse’s desk with his back toward me. Zeus trots over, licking my hand and bringing a subtle smile to my face.
“Nice to see you too. How was your day?” I wipe the slobber on my pants.
Just as I near the desk, Amber reaches around Cole and covers his eyes.
“Guess who,” she says.
“I don’t know,” he replies with annoyance. He extracts her fingers from his eyes and pulls her around to his front.
“Heard you had a good night… hot stuff.” Her haughty laugh is annoying.
How fake can she be?
He laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Who told you?”
“Your boys. Maybe next time you’ll remember to invite me.” She gives him a coy look while she plays with the large curl of her ponytail.
“Nah.” He punches her arm playfully, and she wraps her arms around his neck.
“You wouldn’t have to pay me,” she says. “For you, I’ll do anything.”
Cole shoves her away and looks angry. “I don’t mind kidding, but now you’re crossing the line. Back off.”
“Just messin’ with
you. Lighten up already.” Her eyes meet mine and her air of innocence doesn’t fool me. “But seriously, if you want me to come over, let me know,” she says.
Can she scream “I want to die” any louder? Did she not see the execution?
Cole leads me to the stairway in silence since the elevators malfunctioned halfway through the day. Eight flights down and still nothing’s said between us. Zeus’s nails click on the concrete as we descend, and I’m grateful for the noise.
His hand touches the small of my back when he leads me to the door of the Jeep. I stiffen and he removes it.
“We’re taking the Jeep?” I ask.
“For now. Just get in.” His brusque voice reminds me of how mean he was last night, ordering me around like some lowly servant.
So I lift myself in, holding the door handle, then strap the seatbelt on tight while averting my eyes. All day, I pushed the thought of him, his buddies and the prostitutes out of my mind, but now the memory comes up fresh and sharp. Anger flows through me like a bursting dam.
Why does he act all nice and then treat me like crap? Why does he bother saving my life if he’s going to treat me like trash on the street? He doesn’t make any sense.
He puts the Jeep in drive and we traverse back to our quarters. The entire time I stare at the bleak, colorless monotony that’s become my life. The humid breeze plays with my hair, but it doesn’t bring much relief. I feel Cole’s eyes boring holes into the side of my face and try to ignore it, regardless of how many questions I want to ask.
I’m scared too. I saw the execution the same as he did, but there’s no excuse for being hostile now.
I’ve only been here a week and I’m already exhausted with trying to read his signals and dance around his moods. At times, I want to explode like a bomb or give in to my animalistic instincts like the others.
But my father raised me better. He’d be disappointed if I became what I’ve been labeled. And I won’t give the commander the satisfaction of ruining me.
After Cole retires to his room, I let my hair down, giving my scalp a rest from the ponytail. My long tendrils hang freely over my brand as I stand in front of the mirror.
“Sorry about last night. If I don’t treat you that way when they’re around… they’ll start asking questions. I can’t have them doubting my ability to follow through with my orders.”
His voice startles me and I spin around to face him. His tired eyes meet mine. His face is apologetic. “And when they’re not?” I ask. “What about the camera in my room? Aren’t you worried about them watching you talk to me right now?”
“I’m the one watching you on camera, not them. And from now on, in private, we’ll be civil.”
I nod my head and turn away still feeling uneasy.
“You should be thankful I’m apologizing at all,” he says.
My eyes snap to his in disgust. “I trusted you with my life.”
“And I did my job.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” I ask.
“That’s all it can be.”
Okay, then.
Days pass in the same manner. Cole escorts me in silence. I nurse Alyssa, fold linens, and keep a low profile. Alyssa loves the pillow I gave her, so she’s been a little more receptive of my presence, but she still only gives me one-word answers when I ask her how she’s doing. Every night, Cole leaves me food to eat, but neither of us speaks. After our last exchange, I lost a lot of respect for him. It makes me uncomfortable so I don’t ask him about the papers he had or if I’ll ever be free from surveillance.
I know he can’t enjoy watching me do nothing every night.
I lie on my mattress and run my hands through my long hair. The loneliness is driving me crazy, so I start talking to Zeus, which, to tell the truth, is kind of nice. He at least pretends to care, or seems to anyway.
Thursday. The day means nothing as usual. The head nurse, whose name I finally found out is Bertha, rushes around with the dark-haired nurse. The eighth floor seems particularly swamped today, so there’s no time for questions. Left to my own devices, I’m determined to develop a deeper relationship with Alyssa.
Our interactions have been limited to her basic needs for the most part. I change her linens, give her baths, and attempt conversation with her while getting nowhere. She’s like an armored battleship ready for war. I tiptoe around to keep from disturbing her whenever possible. However, her situation still pricks me. She must feel so alone and deserted.
How can I get her to let me in, to be her friend?
This time I don’t knock. I pull open the curtain, go to the window, and open the blinds.
“What’re you doing? I’m tired and want to be alone,” she snaps. It’s the longest string of words she’s put together since I started taking care of her and I don’t want the opportunity to pass. I drag the chair across the room and next to her bed. “I know what it feels like to be alone and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’ve been trying to help you. Can’t you see I want to be your friend?” I plead from my heart.
“Why? What’s the point?” The bitterness in her voice cracks with weakness, so I gingerly reach out and wrap my hand around hers. It’s cold and lifeless.
“Because I need a friend.” I squeeze her hand slightly, praying for an intervention.
Tears flow from her eyes as she leans her head back into the pillow.
“I don’t want to be this way.” Tears slip down her face. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be alone. I… just hate it here. I hate everything.”
Tears pool on the rims of my eyes as I focus on her.
“I’ll stay with you. I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”
“I think I’ve been here five years. Maybe longer? Sutton’s the closest thing I have to family.” She clenches and unclenches her fists.
She sits up and wraps her thin arms around me. She starts to shake as she sobs, so I hold her. I wish there was more I could do for her—anything. I want to make her remaining days as wonderful as possible, but how does a child enjoy her time when she knows Death parked himself just around the corner?
“What can I do?” I ask.
“Don’t let me die.”
Her words tear my insides to shreds. A hopeless feeling overcomes me and I want to scream at the top of my lungs “Take me! Take me instead!” I would, without a doubt, trade places with her if I could. I know it’s impossible, and the loss of that control throws me into a frenzy. There’s no way she deserves to be here. I don’t even know where to go or who to blame, but there has to be someone.
“I’ll be right back.”
I run down the hallway and into the linen closet. I ball my fists and pound on the door. I grab the sheets and chuck them over the laundry bins and all the way to the trash cans on the other side. Burying my face into a blanket, I let out a scream that’s been balled up in my chest for way too long. Towels fall off the shelf. I pick one up and throw it, then another and another until they form a disheveled pile. I push the bins out of my way and bolt to the supply closet.
I run my arm down the line of supplies, sending them to the floor. I pick up an IV pole and swing at the wall. I pound harder and harder until it breaks in half, sending one part into the mirror, shattering the glass into tiny fragments on the tile. I dig my nails into my palms.
“Why!” I scream. “Why her?”
“Stop.” Sutton’s calm voice breaks my tantrum.
Slowly sinking to the floor, I rest my head against the wall behind me and look around at the mess I created.
“I’m sorry.” I pull the collar of my shirt up over my face, sniffling and wiping my tears away. “I’ll clean it up.” My arms throb and my muscles twitch from adrenaline. I push myself up, ashamed for losing all self-control, and start picking up gauze and tape.
“Stop,” he says again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I watch as he makes his way toward me. My lip starts to tremble and I shake my head frantically. “It’s not fair. She’s so you
ng.”
“I know,” he says.
“We have to do something. We can’t just let her die.”
“I’d give my life to save hers.” He puts his hands on my shoulders.
“I thought the very same thing.”
“Because you’re a good person. If you didn’t care about her, you wouldn’t feel this way. Believe me, I’ve tried everything I possibly could for her, but the virus is… too complex. It might take years before a cure is found, and obviously, she doesn’t even have weeks.”
“I hate the virus.”
“Me too.” He pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me like my father used to do. “Sweetheart, me too.”
I can hear his heart beating. It’s strong with a consistent rhythm. I know good hearts are hard to find, so for the first time in a long time, I feel comfortable around a man. Maybe it’s because he could easily be my father, or maybe it’s because he treats me like a human being. Either way, I almost trust him.
“What can I do?” I ask.
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“You should read to her. Not just any book, but a story where she can fly away and escape the world through her imagination.” He releases me from our embrace and steps back, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Come with me. I have a collection in my office… and don’t worry about the mess. I noticed some nurses sleeping on their shift earlier. I’ll send them to clean up and restock.” He laughs. “I hope you feel better now. I’d like to keep my office intact if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
He leads me into his office and then opens the closet door. The heaps of boxes and random items overwhelm me.
“How can you possibly find anything in this mess?” I ask.
“What mess?”
“Oh, dear heavens.”
“Ha. I’m joking. I collect the belongings people leave behind and throw them in here. When you close the door, the mess is gone, so I don’t see anything wrong with it. As long as I can’t see it, I’m fine.” He winks at me mischievously.