Lost (17 page)

She yanked out her favorite, most functional army green cargo pants and ripped off her scrubs. As Gaia dressed, she forced herself to stop crying, swallowing back the sobs that threatened to keep coming forever. She could not arrive at the hospital looking like a scared, sad little girl.

She needed to strike fear into people's hearts.

“I'm going over there,” she told the hovering women, shoving her feet into her boots.

“I will come with you,” Natasha said, turning toward the door.

“No.” Gaia cut her off and trudged from the bedroom ahead of her. “You stay here in case he calls back.”

“But Gaia,” Natasha protested as she and Tatiana followed her down the hallway.

Gaia took a deep breath and turned to look at the woman who, for all intents and purposes, was her
functioning stepmother. The woman who loved her father.

“Please,” she said. “I'll call you as soon as I know anything more. I need to do this alone.”

Tatiana put her hand on her mother's back, and Natasha's expression became resigned. “All right,” she said, reaching out to grasp Gaia in a tight hug. “Good luck. Find out all you can.”

“I will,” Gaia said, pulling away awkwardly.

She glanced at Tatiana, who shot her a confident smile, then raced from the apartment. She was going to make Dr. Sullivan tell her everything, show her every chart and test result he had. No more of this middle-of-the-night, clinical phone call crap. If he was going to ship her father out of the country, he was going to have to look her in the eye and explain.

Too Pathetic

GAIA RAN ACROSS THE DESERTED
streets of the Upper East Side, this time with nothing to chase. She wished she were running against time—running to catch the transport ambulance before it could take her dad to the airport. Wished she'd gotten the news in
time to attempt to save the day so that something other than sheer anger was driving her. But she hadn't even been given the opportunity to stop this. It was all out of her control.

A tear escaped Gaia's eye and traveled backward from her temple toward her hairline. She shoved it away with the heel of her hand. It was just the running that had caused it, that was all. She wouldn't allow it to mean anything more. She would not break down again.

The morning was cool and dark, and virtually no one was on the sidewalks other than the occasional overly motivated jogger. Gaia caught sight of the hospital ahead and slowed her pace a bit. She didn't want to arrive completely disheveled and out of breath. She wanted to make sure that she didn't set off the security guy's radar in the lobby. There would be no point to any of this if she never made it upstairs.

Suddenly something huge and heavy hurtled past her, right in front of her face, so fast, it left a breeze behind it. If Gaia had kept up her speed, it would have flattened her. She looked left and saw an old-fashioned metal garbage can hit the middle of the road with a clatter that could have woken the dead. Or even the slumbering little old ladies that peopled the neighborhood.

“Well, look who it is.”

Gaia wheeled around, knowing exactly who she was going to see. Behemoth Man. And there he was in all his grimy glory, wearing a floor-length leather coat that probably cost the life of at least ten cows. He looked every bit as grungy and angry as he had the last time she'd seen him. But there was one difference. This time he'd brought friends.

Taking an instinctive step backward, Gaia took a moment to assess her adversaries. The man to Behemoth's right was short but broad, with next to no neck. He held his head back with his chin thrust forward like those guys who spent way too much time in the windows at Crunch, showing off their bulging muscles for the passersby. To his right was a man that could only be Behemoth's brother. He was almost as tall and could have weighed in with him pound for pound, but he looked a lot more solid. A lot less clumsy. And this one was wearing rings. Big rings that would definitely hurt.

“This the bitch you told us about?” Mr. Crunch said with a smirk. “She don't look that tough.”

“Yeah, Tommy, you couldn't take her?” the brother said with a laugh, slapping Behemoth on the back.

“Shut up, Ricky,” Tommy spat, backhanding his brother's shoulder.

“You shut up,” Ricky shot, shoving Tommy.

“No, you shut up,” Tommy said, shoving right back.

Great. Thugs with sibling rivalry issues,
Gaia thought.
Maybe I should just run. By the time they're done with the atomic wedgies, I'll be long gone.

“Hey!” Mr. Crunch shouted, grabbing Tommy by the back of his coat and pulling him away from his brother. “I thought we were here for the girl.”

Tommy yanked down on his coat and shook off the argument, glaring at Gaia. Then, ever so slowly, he pulled a long, shiny knife from his inside pocket. This was no switchblade. It was more like a kitchen knife. A steak knife. He turned it around, grinning sadistically at her, making sure she was taking it in.

Gaia arched one eyebrow. She was not impressed.

“I woulda brought my gun, but it woulda been over too quickly.”

And then he lunged.

Gaia stopped the knife-wielding arm with one hand and thrust her knee up into his gut, using his own momentum against him. He doubled over, and she grabbed the arm with the other hand, twisting his wrist until the knife clattered to the ground. Again it was almost too easy. But this time there was someone else to pick up the knife.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ricky dive for the weapon. She gave Tommy another swift knee and he let out a half groan, half gasp. Tossing him to the ground, Gaia whirled on Ricky, who was
clutching the knife and looking down at his coughing brother with uncertainty. Mr. Crunch was somewhere behind her, but he wasn't making a move. He was simply hovering. And as long as she could sense where he was hovering, she was fine.

Ricky let out a kind of strangled battle cry that almost made Gaia laugh. These guys had to be kidding. He lunged at her just the way his brother had. Gaia sidestepped him, turned, and flung out her leg, right into his midsection. He stumbled, tripped, and sank the knife right into his brother's calf.

Tommy screamed out in horrified pain and Ricky got to his knees, trembling. “Oh my God, Tommy. Oh . . . I'm so sorry!” He covered his mouth, then moved a hand as if to grab the knife, thought the better of it, and covered his mouth again.

The knife was sticking out of Ricky's leg like a stake. Mr. Crunch looked like he was going to be sick. How did these guys think they were going to pull off a stabbing murder if they couldn't even handle a little stick to the leg?

“I'm gonna kill you, Ricky!” Tommy shouted, red faced and sputtering. He twisted himself around and pulled the knife from his calf, letting it drop to the ground, covered in blood. Ricky took one look at it and ran, loping off down the street and disappearing around the corner. Apparently he took his brother's threat seriously.

“Tommy?” Mr. Crunch said uncertainly.

“Kill her!” Tommy growled, clutching his leg.

Mr. Crunch picked up the knife, narrowed his eyes, and approached Gaia slowly, his arms down straight at his sides. He wasn't going to make the same mistake his friends had and come on too quickly. Of course, if he came at her like this, with no defense, he was pretty much toast.

He and Gaia circled each other, and Gaia never took her attention from the knife. Its position would dictate her moves. She had to know where it was at all times.

Finally Mr. Crunch lifted the knife and swiped at Gaia, straight across her chest. She jumped back, the blade narrowly missing her sweater. He tossed the knife to the other hand and brought it down with a slashing thrust. Gaia blocked his motion with her forearm and hit him with an uppercut, right under his chin. Mr. Crunch's head snapped back and he dropped the knife. It skidded across the sidewalk and fell over the curb, lying on the side of the street.

Mr. Crunch glanced at the weapon, then made a move for it, but Gaia threw herself forward, tackling him to the ground before he could reach the blade. They tumbled over and over each other down the sidewalk until they finally rolled right into Tommy. He let out another pained cry, and Gaia used Mr. Crunch's distraction to crawl out from under him. He
never saw the first punch coming—a nice sharp jab to the face. She heard something crack, and his nose started to bleed.

Gaia made a move to crawl over him and grab the knife, but he shouted and pulled up his legs, shoving her off him with his knees, away from the street. Gaia struggled to her feet and Mr. Crunch did the same, clutching his nose. When he brought his hands away, his face was covered with blood and it dripped down onto his jacket, leaving a dozen spreading stains.

“You broke my nose, you bitch!” he shouted.

Gaia shrugged, which only served to incense him.

He came at her like a madman, with wide, lunging punches. A left to her shoulder, a right to her jaw, all the time staying between Gaia and the street. He was strong but had no moves she hadn't seen before. She ducked another left and spun around on the ground behind him. By the time he'd realized what happened and turned around, Gaia had the knife clutched firmly in her hand.

She lunged for Tommy, who was still prone on the ground, and brought the blade up under his chin.

“Call him off,” she ordered.

“Piss off!” Tommy shouted.

She pressed the knife into his skin, and he let out a strangled cry. Gaia glared up at Mr. Crunch. “Go,” she said. “Get out of here or I'll kill him.”

Mr. Crunch looked down at Tommy, touched his fingers to his nose, and winced. “Screw this,” he said finally, making a decision. He turned and ran toward the hospital, no doubt headed for the ER with some grand story about a mugging he'd just single-handedly broken up.

Gaia stood up, walked over to the street, and tossed the knife into the sewer. Then she straddled Tommy's legs, standing over him as he covered his calf with his bloodstained hands.

“If I ever see you in this neighborhood again, that leg wound is gonna feel like a paper cut,” she said, making sure he could read in her eyes how very serious she was.

Tommy attempted a defiant expression for a moment, but it didn't last. He finally rolled his head back on the ground and looked away. “Fine,” he said through his teeth.

Gaia turned and started down the street, happy to find that the fog wasn't coming on. Those guys were too pathetic. It hadn't been enough of a fight to completely wipe her out. And luckily, she hadn't been cut or bruised. She took a deep breath and smoothed back her hair, realizing she was a lot more calm than she'd been ten minutes ago. Pummeling Tommy and his friends was just what she'd needed.

She was more ready than ever to confront Dr. Sullivan.

Vegetative and Half Dead

GAIA WALKED UP TO THE DESK IN
the ICU, the picture of serenity. She'd moved through the lobby with nary a glance from security or the volunteer personnel. Now all she had to do was get these people to page Dr. Sullivan. She was going to find him, and she was going to get her answers.

“Can I help you?” the elderly nurse asked, her eyes watery behind her thick glasses.

“I need to see Dr. Sullivan,” Gaia replied, going for nonchalant.

“Oh. Well, you're in luck! There he is!” The elderly woman pointed with her pen over Gaia's shoulder, and Gaia's heart caught in her throat. This was it. He was standing right behind her. The man who had taken her father away.

Gaia turned slowly and saw Dr. Sullivan walking out of one of the ICU rooms, making some notes on his chart. He was concentrating and hadn't seen her yet. Part of her, a very primal part, wanted to just run over there and tackle him, sending him into the glass wall behind him.

“Dr. Sullivan?” she said, stepping back from the desk. Her voice came out shakily.

He paused and looked up from his notes, and a
cloud of confusion crossed his face. “Gaia! What are you doing here?” he asked. And he smiled. The man who had taken her father away smiled right in her face.

“I came to see you,” she said, staring directly into his eyes. How could he just be looking at her with that open, pleasant expression? Half an hour ago, on the phone, she'd been out for blood and he had known it. Were all doctors really this cocky and detached?

“Well, I was going to call you after my rounds,” Dr. Sullivan said, crossing over to her and placing the chart he was working on down on the ICU desk. He folded his hands on top of it and looked at her sorrowfully, calmly. “We ran those tests on your father.”

Gaia clenched her hands into fists in an effort to keep from exploding.

“I know,” she said, impatience swelling within her chest.

His bushy red brows knitted. “What do you mean, you know? Nurses aren't supposed to divulge this information.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two nurses on duty, and they just looked back at him blankly. What the hell was he talking about? Was this all some kind of game to him? If it was, she wasn't playing.

“The nurses didn't divulge anything,” Gaia spat. “You told me.”

“I'm sorry?” His eyes narrowed, and a small
bemused smile crossed his face. The man was genuinely confused. How could this be?

Gaia felt her knees weaken slightly, and her stomach seemed to drop out of her body. Either this guy was a very good actor, or he had a split personality, or something was very wrong here.

“Gaia, what do you mean? I haven't spoken to you since we met yesterday,” Dr. Sullivan said.

Gaia was suddenly very, very weak. Her vision clouded over like it did before her blackouts, and she leaned her side into the ICU desk, clinging to consciousness. She pressed her palms into the cool surface of the desk, hoping it would serve to ground her.

“But you . . . you called my house,” Gaia said, her mouth completely dry. “You told me you sent my father to Switzerland. . . . ”