Nightshifted (38 page)

“Dren, please—” I reached my arm out toward him. Muscles that didn’t connect right in my abdomen anymore twitched and slid out of place. I screamed in pain and my arm fell.

Drops of blood I hadn’t known were cradled in my hand sprinkled forward with the motion. Dren reached out with his free hand, lightning fast, and caught one in midair. Then while looking at us, he grinned, showing fangs, and brought his hand back toward his mouth, surely to lick from wrist to fingertip.

He stopped just as I realized I was looking at him. Not through his fingers, but through a hole that had appeared in the middle of his palm, as a portion of it crumbled into ash. His fingers teetered, and then one by one fell down, dusting like so many smoked cigarettes.

“Your blood—” he began, staring at his hand, transfixed, as the ash crept down his hand.

“Is spiked with pope water,” I answered him.

He looked at me for a moment, then reversed his hold upon his sickle, and brought it whistling down—not on us, like I’d feared, but through the meat and bone of his own wrist. The remnants of his hand dusted in midair.

“Let us pass, Husker,” Ti said. Dren didn’t answer. He was panting in anger, staring at his mutilated arm.

“How could you husk me without getting my blood on you?” I asked. My hand that wasn’t pressed against Ti found more blood to use as a weapon, just in case.

Dren put his sickle down. “Later,” he answered.

I sagged against Ti’s chest. Things were going gray. “Yes. It is.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Ti mounted the stairs two at a time when we reached them. I could see the trail of ash and gobbets of flesh behind us as we made our way back to Providence General’s lobby.

Zombies don’t have look-away like vampires do. And so while I could see the mass exodus of vampires pouring out of Providence General, no one else could. All they could see was Ti, holding me, as he strode through the bays of the emergency room, shedding ash and meat. People were picking up phones. I hid my face in Ti’s armpit as people tried to take our picture.

“Stay back!” Ti growled, and the good employees of Providence General did so. We made it to the ambulance entrance, just as a dark-tinted car flew into the drive.

Ti opened the back door, and we sank into the car together.

“Drive,” Ti commanded as he closed the door, and Sike’s car raced off.

*   *   *

Ti cradled me to his chest. I clung to him, feeling parts of him sift away like hourglass sand. And then I started to feel like that too—drifting and lost. “Edie, wake up,” he said.

“Are we there yet?” I asked without opening up my eyes.

“No. Edie—”

“Are these my guts, or yours?” I asked, nestling my head into his shoulder. Moving hurt less and less now. Hooray for me.

“Mine. Maybe. Edie—just be quiet for a second, will you?”

“No,” I said, but then was quiet anyhow.

“Edie, I’ve got to go.”

“No—”

“At the meth lab, I’m sure people saw me. But even before that—there’s only so many times you can get burned and survive and your coworkers don’t think it’s strange. Add that to the fact that I don’t age—and that that entire hospital’s staff saw me there tonight, looking like a Frankenstein—”

“No one believes night shift.” I curled my hand into his chest. He was warm compared to me; I felt so cold. “I’m tired, Ti. You can’t leave me. Not now.”

“I’ve got to. At least for a while. But I don’t know how long that’ll be.”

“This—that—that’s not some euphemism for dying, is it?” I looked up at him. His face was blurry, and I didn’t know if it was all his new skin or my tears. “Because you—that’s not fair.”

“I’m not dying, Edie. Just going. We’ll get you to the hospital first, though. I’m not leaving until I know that you’re okay.”

“Don’t go.” I hid my face against his chest, felt the flesh there give beneath me. Another wave of exhaustion and chill pulled me down. “We’ll talk about it when I wake up, right?”

“Good—” I heard him begin, and I knew he was about to say “good night” or “good-bye” but I didn’t hear enough.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

“Human.”

Things felt strange—but they smelled familiar. Too familiar.

“Human.”

Something hit my face, hard. I blinked, and saw a frizzy blond halo looking down. “Human?”

“Tired,” I whispered, but I wasn’t sure I made a sound.

“Human, do you want my blood?”

I blinked my eyes open. There were two Y-connected IV sets over me, draining red fluid in. “Blood?”

“That’s mortal blood. I am offering you more.” A skinny wrist blotted out the emergency room lights. A red gash appeared on it, and then blood on this, bright red, like a seam.

I closed my lips firmly.

“I will not force you.” Anna’s strong fingers grabbed my chin, twisted my head, and made me focus my attention on her. “But if you die, I will be very upset.”

My vision faded, and she disappeared. “Ti?” I asked. “Anna?” I looked around. County’s emergency room was full; I could hear screaming children, crying mothers, the clamor of twenty different languages, all the hustle and bustle of life and death around me.

And I was just another stab wound on a Saturday night.

I flagged down a nurse by attempting to crawl out of bed. “Call Meaty. On Y4.”

She looked unsure. Of course she was, I’d just given her the name of a person she’d never met, and a location she’d never been to.

“Extension six-sixty. It’s important. Tell him Edie Spence is here,” I pleaded.

She could have ignored me, but she didn’t. I saw her go for a phone as I relaxed back into bed.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

I woke to the smell of cleanser and floor wax. I knew Ti was gone. Through half-lidded eyes, I could see red nails.

“Edie Spence?” a nurse I knew was day shift said nasally. I pretended to be asleep. Apparently I’d lived, or this was a very authentic hell.

She didn’t care enough to roll my eyelids back and check for pupil responses, which was good, because with her acrylics she might have taken out my cornea. Instead she poked me in the chest a few times, and I did my best to lie there like a lump of unresponsive meat. I heard her leave and knew she’d chart: Withdrawal to pain? Negative.

After that, I shifted around in bed like a sleeping person might. I was sore from stem to stern, had two peripheral IVs in my left arm, and there was an abdominal binder around my midsection. Other than that, I didn’t really hurt.

Not physically at least. But now that I was awake, memories came rushing back. Ti, saying he was going away. How long had I been out for? Long enough, some part of me knew. I had to fight the impulse to curl up in bed; it’d be a dead giveaway. So I lay there limp and ragged, waiting for sleep to come again. One of the drips going into my arm was a narcotic—I could see the bright pink “Dose Check!” warning stickers on its bag.

Wait a second.
I knew how IV pumps worked. I could—

“Way to get the most out of your County-sponsored health insurance policy,” said a familiar voice. I started, caught with one arm reaching for the IV pole, and turned to see Gina’s smiling face.

“Gina? What’re you doing here?”

She grinned down at me. “I saw you move some when I walked by outside. I thought I’d come in and check.”

“But why’re you on day shift?” I strained to look past her shoulder. “If that day shift nurse comes back, I’m still dead, okay?”

“It’s nighttime. She’s working a double—covering for you. Hang on.” She made a silly face at me, then ran out the door.

“Like I have a choice,” I said to her departing form.

She returned with a bouquet, and arranged it on my bed table, handing me the card with an expectant smile. I took it from her, inhaled and exhaled slowly, and then opened it with shaking hands.

It read
Congratulations, from Asher
in purple ink with a heavy slant and a heart over the
i
. Tears threatened. I closed the card again and looked up at her.

“I don’t suppose I had any visitors while I was asleep? The tall, dark, and zombie kind?” I tried to keep my voice light while I asked, and failed.

I had obviously not had the reaction Gina expected. She looked from the card to me and back again, then shook her head.

“Okay, then. Okay,” I told myself more than her. I hugged myself, my arms tracing the binder’s course across my torso. It would take more than its elastic to hold in my breaking heart. I pointed with my chin at the flowers. “Take those to someone who deserves them, down the hall.” I shook my IV lines with one hand. “And if you don’t mind, I’ll take more of whatever’s in bag number two.”

CHAPTER SIXTY

Time in the hospital passes slowly.

I knew this, as a nurse, but as a patient—it’s like being in jail. There’s nothing to do but watch the clock and suffer through the vast wasteland that is daytime television.

I was trapped on Y4 under bowel rest from the surgery they’d performed to stop all the bleeding inside of me, allowed only sips of water and other clear fluids, until my GI tract performed to their satisfaction. I knew all the technical reasons for being here, but actually
being here
sucked.

I clicked on the evening news my first night.

“There’s been no explanation for the outbreak of mass hysteria at Providence General on Saturday night,” a female news anchor announced, standing outside in the snow. I closed my eyes. “It’s possible that forgotten tanks of nitrous oxide in the older part of the hospital rusted through,” said someone who sounded like a hospital spokesperson. “Investigations are continuing, but we can assure the public that Providence General is completely safe and open for business.”

“Assuming you can pay,” I muttered.

“Meanwhile,” a male voice segued, “the brutal mutilations of three drug dealers have led police to suspect a gang war is ongoing. I warn you, the photos we’re about to show you will be graphic. These photos are not suitable for children.”

I opened up my eyes to see the man who’d originally had the rest of Ti’s new face. I leaned over the top railing of the bed as my stomach heaved. Luckily you don’t throw up much if you haven’t had anything to eat in three days.

*   *   *

“You’re sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Meaty asked. It was really hard to tell Meaty no, but I managed. It was the end of my fifth incarcerated night shift, and the morning was edging up on dawn.

“Maybe when I get back, you know? I need to gain some perspective.” The truth was, I wasn’t interested in rehashing anything with anyone just yet. My scars from surgery were healing nicely, but the rest of me felt like it had a sucking chest wound that no one else could see.

Charles had his arms crossed, in an imitation of Meaty. “I suppose the important thing is that you lived.”

“Exactly.” I forced a smile. I was wearing four pairs of scrubs, layered for warmth under Gina’s extra coat, and my work shoes, which I’d left in the locker room what felt like ages ago. “Which one of you has a bus pass for me to make it home?”

Meaty produced one. “You’re sure?”

“Later. I promise.” I took the ticket. “I’ll be back. You’ll see.”

*   *   *

The bus ride was uneventful, even if it seemed like every pothole the driver went over was meant for me. I got off at the station, and walked down the street to my apartment, comforted that there weren’t any strange footprints on my stoop in the recent snow. I tried the handle and it gave, just like I’d left it. I walked in with a sigh, and set my bag down.

The first thing I noticed was that the faucet was off. And my apartment didn’t smell like a litter box. Grandfather was still sitting by the doorway—I scooped him up.

“Minnie?”

No sound.

I walked through my apartment, holding Grandfather like you would hold a knife or a frying pan. The kitchen and living room were clear, the hallway was empty, the bathroom was empty—I went into my darkened bedroom, where the lightproof sheet was still over my blinds. I looked under my bed—no Minnie. And then I turned toward my closet, which was open just a hair. I peered inside and saw Minnie, curled up on Anna’s lap.

I sat on my bed for a long minute, gathering strength and trying to figure out what I ought to do next. Then I took the sheets off my bed, walked them down to the laundry, and came back.

*   *   *

I took a nap once my sheets were done, but made sure to get up before nightfall. Anna emerged from my closet like a fairy-tale Sleeping Beauty, all stretches and yawns, greeting the night instead of dawn. She wore a shirt I didn’t recognize, but scrub pants I was sure were my own.