The Donors (12 page)

 

 

 

 

 

Nathan thought he woke up because he couldn't stop thinking about his operation. Well, not the operation, but the part where they would give him medicine to make him sleep. A sleep he couldn't wake up from. The lady doctor, the one that Jason knew, had come by and talked to him and his mom for a little while after it was already dark out. She seemed nice enough, but Nathan didn't trust her like he did his friend. He hoped Jason would come by before the operation began.

He wanted to talk to him. He had no idea whether he could go to the cave from that sleep or not and he wanted to ask Jason what he thought. He asked the lady doctor about dreams and she had made a funny face, said she was pretty sure people don't dream in the medicine sleep (she called it a long doctor word that started with an “a” that Nathan couldn't remember).

Still, these weren't
really
dreams, so Nathan felt uneasy. Maybe that didn't apply to him at all. All he knew was that if he went to the cave, he might not be able to get back on his own like he had before and that felt pretty scary.

Scaredy cat, scaredy cat.

Maybe so, but sometimes things really were scary. This wasn't like his bathrobe lying on his dresser that looked like a monster. The more you looked, the more it appeared to be some fanged beast. Even though you KNEW it was just your bathrobe, eventually you had to get up and turn on the light to be sure. No, that was just a silly game kids played in their heads. These really were monsters and Nathan felt terrified of what they could do if he couldn't get away.

You saw what they did to Steve.

Nathan sighed, a big grown-up sigh, and pulled the soft cover from home up around his shoulders. It was still nighttime but he had no idea how long nighttime was or when the light would come back on.

Maybe just a few minutes but probably not. He wished he was big enough to drive a car. He could go to Jason's apartment and talk to him. He still worried a lot about Jenny. She seemed fine when he saw her last but he felt like a lot could change in that cave.

Go check on her, scaredy cat. You can sneak up on them quiet-like again, like last time. Sneak up on them like Red Ranger and make sure she's okay. What are ya—scared?

“Yeah, a little,” he admitted softly.

Maybe just a quick peek. If he did go now, he could come right back.

Nathan concentrated on the soft blanket rubbing against his cheek and the steady sound of Mommy's breathing from the hospital chair. Then he tentatively closed his eyes.

It came much quicker this time so he guessed he must be getting better—at least at going. He would see if he could be quick at getting back. He opened his eyes and found himself standing against the wall in the narrow passageway just a short distance from the ledge where he had seen Jenny in the room.

Good, now be quick.

Nathan shuffled quietly up the path to the ledge, his body coated in dust after only a moment in the wet heat. He squatted down on all fours like a kitty cat and moved slowly the last few feet to the edge. Then he cautiously looked into the room.

Relief washed over him. He didn't see Jenny lying naked in the corner anymore. He was more relieved that the Lizard Men weren't there, but then worried about where they might be hiding. He peered nervously over his shoulder.

A real Power Ranger wouldn't be scared. Anyway, you can always hear them grunting before they get close and they make that nasty fart smell when they first come around.

Huh. Nathan didn't think he knew that before but he thought it seemed right. He thanked his invisible friend for that. Then he glanced back down into the room.

Steve looked pretty gnarly. There were long squares on his chest and sides, even on his arms, that were deep purple and wet where the creatures had pulled his skin off with their teeth. Nathan shuddered at the memory. He seemed to be alive though, which surprised Nathan a little. His left leg rocked slowly back and forth and he could hear a soft steady moan.

There was no blood or anything where Jenny had been and he thought she might be okay. He knew he wouldn't really stop worrying until he saw her at the hospital. Or maybe if Jason just told him she was okay and that he had seen her.

A new shape was in the room as well. Another body sat half-upright against the far wall, the head slumped over onto the chest. He could see a ragged hole in the back of the head that looked wet and glistened in the nearly absent light. The hole looked like a mix of purple-red and a whitish gray. He wondered if that was what brains looked like.

I'll bash your fucking brains out.

That was Steve's voice, but it was a memory, he felt sure. The Steve he saw in the cave was in no condition to bash any brains out. He looked again at the big man with grayish-red hair and the big hole in his head. He guessed the Lizard Men had bashed his brains out—so now he totally knew what the expression meant.

He had seen enough. Jenny was gone and hopefully safe, Steve looked nearly dead and a new guy seemed dead with his brains bashed out.

Time to power down.

His own voice tried to sound like an SPD Power Ranger. He slid his body slowly back from the ledge and then thought hard about the soft blanket on his cheek and the heavy sound of Mommy's breathing. Nathan opened his eyes and looked around the dark hospital room.

If I had a window, I could tell if it was almost morning.

Jason would be there soon, he felt pretty sure.
Maybe he's with Jenny right now
. That thought made him feel better.

He drifted off to sleep hoping he and the other Power Rangers would bravely fight the crybots together with his SPD zord. That would be a way better dream than the stupid cave.

 

*  *  *

 

Steve floated, with his half-closed eyes out of focus. He didn't want to know whether he lay in the cave or was paralyzed in his torture room. His mind tried to remind him that it might be nice to know which nightmare was real and which was just a dream but he told his mind to just shut the fuck up for a minute.

For now he wanted to savor the floating, stoned feeling that kept his thoughts off the horrible pain in his chest and arms. That pain called to him, from down a long hallway, and he knew it would find him soon. He tried to stay lost for just a few more precious moments, like hitting a snooze alarm for the tenth time.

Just a few more minutes.

The pain didn't bring him back but the sucking swish, the pressure change in the room that announced a new arrival, did, and answered the question of where he was. With some difficulty he opened his eyes by not trying to open them—just letting the lids kind of slide back across his eyeballs on their own.

The intersecting black lines of his monotonous fucking ceiling confirmed what he knew. The horrible smell, like tasting a wet fart, told him that he had company. He listened to the hiss of his breathing machine.

I don't give a fuck. I don't care anymore. What the fuck are they going to do to me worse than what they've done? I'm not afraid of you anymore—not now that I want to die. Bring it on, motherfuckers.

He couldn't really make sense of the hushed whispers so he stopped trying. He felt way past giving a shit. He focused on the black lines, listened to his lungs pumped in and out with air and tried to think of the sweaty hot chick's cute titties, instead of the burning that wracked his body.

It seemed amazing how his mind could numb him to both the pain and fear. He knew his tormentors were there but they felt make-believe now. Steve concentrated on remembering every detail he could summon of the naked girl in the cave.

“Hello, Mr. Prescott,” the familiar voice hissed at him. It sounded more like Smith, the little rat-fuck sidekick with the scar and the teeth that he knew were now stained with his blood. He didn't even try to move his eyes to see him.

Hello yourself, shit bag. You smell like ass. Did you know that?

There was a long pause and Steve tried to go back to the image of the naked girl, but his mounting anxiety kept her from him.

What are they going to do to me now?

Who gives a good wet shit? Try and picture the chick!

Hard shoes clicked on the floor and another voice joined the first as Mr. Clarke's pale face, eyes glowing from under his hat, came into view.

“Feeling a little better, are you?” The blood-red lips parted slightly and Steve saw the long teeth. “Well, we can fix that.”

I don't think so, bitch. I'll be dead soon and you can fucking go hungry.

He wanted to smile but wasn't the least bit surprised that he couldn't. The thin, pale face leaned in closer.

“You'll be dead when I decide it's time,
bitch.
” The voice hissed in his ear. Steve was not surprised that the demon had heard his thoughts. “Not feeling scared, Mr. Prescott? Well, you should be.” The head pulled back and hovered just over his face. For a moment it seemed to shimmer and Steve saw briefly the raptor, though the eyes remained somewhat human. Then the thin red lips were back.

You will feel fear again, Mr. Prescott. The pain you have had is nothing compared to the unimaginable agony I am bringing you today. You will feed us with your terror, I promise you that…

The voice became real again in his ear as Mr. Clarke slid from view above him.

“Before you die today, Mr. Prescott,” it hissed, “you will feed me. You will feel horror and terror as you watch us rip your organs from your belly. You will be awake to see us feed on your liver, your kidneys, your miserable little shit tube, and finally your heart and lungs. You think you are ready to die? Before we are done you will scream, begging for death.”

A brand new terror was born. The blazing eyes came back into his view. His plan to deny the demons his anguish was a stupid, fucked-up pipe dream. He knew he would give them all the shit-yourself-terror that they needed. And he knew that death would be the highlight of his day.

Steve heard the staccato click of hard-soled shoes and listened to the voices of Mr. Clarke and Mr. Smith.

“We will need a new doctor. We are close to losing one I think.”

“Get it done soon. We have another coming any time now. And get the girl back here. We need help keeping him alive for the feeding.”

Steve thought he heard a slurping sound.

“And the boy?”

“We have time for one more. He doesn't yet know his power. We'll be gone before he does.” A pause hung in the air and for a moment Steve felt twin pairs of hungry eyes on him. “Tell the team we have an organ harvest.”

The shit smell returned for a moment, but then faded away and he realized he was alone again. Tears filled his eyes, blurred the ceiling panels and his mind fought furiously for a plan to stop being alive. He couldn't make himself stop breathing because the fucking machine forced air into his lungs. He couldn't move, could barely think.

So instead, he screamed in anguish, an animalistic sound, quiet, inside his head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nathan wanted to be brave, mostly for Mommy. She did her best not to let him see her crying but he knew. As the man and woman in the green PJ-looking doctor suits settled him onto the smaller bed and checked his IV he smiled and waved to her, but for some reason it made her look sadder.

“I'll be okay, Mommy,” he said, trying real hard to sound grown-up.

His mom raised a hand to her mouth. “I know, baby,” she choked out. “Mommy is just silly sometimes, you know?” She smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead. “It won't even hurt, Dr. Katzen says. She says you get some special medicine and just go to sleep. When you wake up, your hand will be all fixed.”

“It will still have a lot of healing to do,” Dr. Katzen's voice cautioned from the doorway. “Another couple of days in the hospital I think.” His mommy ignored her and unconsciously shooed her words away with her hand, which made Nathan snicker.

“You'll go to sleep and when you wake up, you'll be all fixed,” Mom said again and kissed his cheek.

Nathan felt tightness in his chest, like someone squeezed him too hard and a big-swallow-of-peanut-butter feeling in his throat. He didn't say anything, because Mommy seemed so worried, but going to sleep was all that really scared him. He looked up again at the doorway as the man in the green pajamas tucked a bunch of papers under his pillow.

Please come, Jason. Please. I have to ask you something.

The bed started to roll and he jumped in response. His head felt kind of swimmy and he wondered if they put medicine in him to make him sleep already. The thought made him cry, but he turned his head so Mommy wouldn't see.

I don't want to go to the cave. Please don't let me go there if I can't get out when I want to.

“I love you, baby,” his mom said as he rolled out of his room.

“See you in a minute, Mommy,” he said, and thought he did a pretty good job of sounding brave.

Dr. Katzen said he wouldn't dream in the medicine sleep, so maybe he wouldn't go to the cave at all. Maybe he really would just drift off and wake up when his hand was all fixed up. He wanted to believe that with all his heart.

They're not dreams at all.

He knew that was true but still, if a medicine made it so he couldn't dream it might very well mean he couldn't go to the cave, either. He didn't know how it worked.

You're such a little scaredy cat. If you go to the cave, just hide like before.

But what if they found him? What if they saw him and ran after him like before? Nathan had thought about that time a lot and something seemed weird about it. Why hadn't the Lizard Man just bitten him with his sharp teeth? It almost seemed like he just wanted to scare him, make him leave the cave.

Maybe they're scaredy cats. Maybe they're scared of me. Did you ever think of that?

That didn't seem likely. Nathan closed his eyes and felt his lower lip tremble. Just wishful thinking (like Mommy called it). He couldn't think of a single reason why the Lizard Men, the creatures he watched tear Steve apart and leave him bleeding in the cave, would ever be afraid of a little five-year-old boy.

I'm almost six and I think they are scared of me a little.

You're figuring it out, now. The bad creatures on Power Rangers get scared and they are much bigger than a Power Ranger.

The second voice in his head sounded like him, but he knew it was the other-him that helped him hear things he needed. He wished Jason were with him again.

A finger touched his hand. Nathan jumped and struggled to open his eyes, certain he would see his buddy smiling down at him. Why did it feel so hard to open his eyes? He pulled them open so he could see Jason, standing above him.

Dr. Katzen looked down at him instead. His lip quivered badly now.

“It's okay, buddy,” Dr. Katzen said and patted his hand. “The medicine is making you sleepy. Just go ahead and rest. When you wake up it will all be over.”

Nathan struggled hard not to fall asleep. He opened his eyes wide when the narrow bed bumped to a stop. He looked up at three big round lights with handles, one of them blazing painfully in his eyes. He tried to raise a hand to block the powerful light, but felt too weak.

Stupid medicine.

“Sorry, little man,” a deeper voice said. A hand grabbed the light handle and swung it out of his view. He started to not be so scared though.
That might be the medicine
, he thought. He panicked as they lifted him in the air but he saw that they were just moving him over to another bed, this one even smaller. A round face, full of kindness, looked down at him.

“You okay, Nathan?” a soft voice asked.

He tried to shake his head ‘no' but he just lay there and looked up at the stranger. The man wore a puffy blue hat and a green doctor mask.

“Just the medicine, big guy. Nothing to worry about.”

Nathan drifted off. He felt so tired. He could feel hands move his body around some, felt a warm blanket or something across his waist, but he couldn't make himself care anymore. Then he felt a really warm, almost hot, sensation run up his arm from his wrist and spread across his chest and neck. His head felt really dizzy.

“That's the other medicine, Nathan. Just relax and in a few seconds you'll be asleep.” He looked up and tried to talk. He could feel his mouth moving, but he didn't hear his voice—only in his head.

Please don't let me go to the cave.

Darkness spread over him and Nathan couldn't remember what he wanted to say or why he felt so scared. He tried to make sense of the words in his head…

Jason! Jason, please come find me!

...and then he drifted into the middle of the circling darkness and disappeared.

 

*  *  *

 

Jason dreamt of Jenny's soft legs, her hips moving back and forth, until a voice interrupted.
Nathan's voice.

He didn't wake up, but tried to switch dreams in his sleep; to hear the voice more clearly. He focused his mind, willing Nathan to speak. Just when he thought the boy wasn't really there, he heard him again, faint, far away.

Please don't let me go to the cave. Jason! Jason, please come find me!

Jason sat bolt upright in bed. For a moment he struggled, disoriented. Nothing looked familiar. Faint orange light from the dawn danced around narrow slits between towels hung over the windows. He searched for clues and started to think perhaps this was another dream, but then he caught the scent of Jenny, the soft flower-like smell on the sheets, and remembered exactly where he was.

Jason collapsed back on a big pillow and rubbed his hands across his face. He looked over as his eyes got used to the light and saw he was alone. There were no sounds from the bathroom and the door stood fully open. The bathroom was dark. He stretched luxuriously in the soft bed, breathed her scent in. Then the thought of Nathan's pleading voice made him sit up again.

Real or not, the dream-Nathan's voice sounded frightened and urgent. He couldn't possibly ignore it.

Jason headed into the small living room while he pulled on his jeans and shirt. He hopped on one foot and tried to pull as he scanned around for a note from Jenny. It seemed pretty weird that she would just leave without waking him. Perhaps she had just run out for coffee or to the store to get stuff to make something for breakfast. The big clock on the bookshelf read seven-thirty. Could she have been called into to work?

In the bathroom he squirted some toothpaste on a finger (using her toothbrush felt dirty and wrong) and looked at himself in the mirror as he rubbed his teeth clean. He rinsed his mouth with tap water then headed back to the other room.

He scrounged in a narrow kitchen drawer for a pen and scrap of paper (they were always in the narrow drawers, right?) and scribbled a quick note to Jenny on a pharmaceutical-company notepad full of stickys.

 

I had to go to the hospital to check on Nathan. Meet me there if you can.

I miss you, even if that sounds silly. Hope you are okay.

-Jason

 

Jason jogged to the bedroom and put the note on her pillow (nice). Then he scanned quickly to see if her keys were in sight so he would know what to do with the door, then shrugged and he grabbed his keys. He would lock the door behind him. She would call on his cell if there was a problem. He wished he had her number so he could call her on the drive.

On the short drive to the hospital it finally hit him—Nathan probably had his surgery today. Shit! Why in the hell had he not checked with Katzen yesterday? He realized what a complete asshole he would be if he hadn't seen Nathan before he went to the OR. He pushed his foot a little harder on the accelerator and sped just above the limit the short distance to the hospital.

He pulled into the parking deck and found a spot on the second floor pretty close to the stairs. His car sat crooked in his haste, but Jason didn't bother fixing it. Jason sprinted down the stairs, nearly knocked into two middle-aged nurses, who gave long, exaggerated eye rolls in response to his mumbled apology, and then ran full speed through the glass walkway. The elevators felt like they took hours, but he walked into the Pedi-ICU only a few moments after parking.

“Can I help you, sir? We usually ask you to call in to see if it is okay for a visit.” Jason looked at an older nurse who looked scoldingly back at him as she approached. He realized he knew very few people in the Pediatrics Unit and that in his present state he didn't look very doctorly. He started to explain whom he was when another voice interrupted.

“Oh, hi, Dr. Gelman.” He turned and saw a heavier-set nurse who smiled at him warmly. The hall-monitor nurse walked away. Jason looked at the new nurse's ID, but the name didn't ring a bell. “I'm Carol,” she said and put out her hand. “Jenny has talked about you a lot,” she said and winked at him. “I'm afraid she's off today, though.”

“I know,” Jason said and felt a little awkward. “I'm actually here to see Nathan Doren—I took care of him in the ER.”

“Oh, I know,” the nurse said. “I'm afraid you just missed him. They took him down for his skin graft about thirty minutes ago.” Jason's heart sank through the floor. “His mom might be in the surgery waiting room if you want to catch up with her.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling like a complete jerk-off. “I'll head over there and wait on him.”

“Nice to officially meet you,” the nurse said with another conspiratorial wink. “Jenny is a wonderful girl.”

Jason smiled. “I know.” He headed through the automatic doors and out of the unit.

In the hall, Jason stood for a moment, unsure what to do. His concern about Jenny certainly got a boost when he hadn't found her at work, but since he couldn't think what to do about that, he headed to the OR to check on Nathan. Maybe she was at the apartment reading his note right now.

The OR occupied a large portion of the third floor and he took the stairs, unable to wait for the elevator. He avoided the waiting room, not wanting to get hung up with Sherry until he satisfied himself that Nathan was okay. After a quick call to Jenny's apartment (no answer) he pulled on a pair of scrubs in the male physician locker room, tied on a blue hat and mask, and then headed down the short hall past Preop heading toward the main OR rooms. He walked up to a tech in scrubs on his way.

“Hey, bud—can you tell me what room the skin graft on Doren is in?”

The tech pointed at the big dry erase board without breaking stride. “Check the board.”

Jason saw the name halfway down next to the attending surgeons name from the burn service. Room fifteen.

Through the narrow window of the door to room fifteen, Jason saw Sheila Katzen, who stood beside Nathan's outstretched arm. The arm and hand looked tiny surrounded by the blue drapes and he thought how it kind of looked mummified, painted all brown with the betadine prep. He couldn't see Nathan's face because of the drape pulled up to separate the operative field from anesthesia. Another small square of brown broke the field of blue a little farther down where his thigh had been prepped to take a small piece of skin for the graft to his hand—the donor site. Sheila closely examined his hand, which bled a little where she had debrided some more dead tissue off. Jason pushed through the door and Sheila looked up.

“Hey, Gelman,” she said and returned to her inspection of the little bleeding hand. “What are you up to? Finally giving up on being the hospital gate keeper and considering the switch to a real doctor job?”

Jason enjoyed the endless and expected rivalry between ER and surgery. “Nah,” he said. “I'll keep my life outside of work, thanks just the same. How's our boy?”

Sheila smiled with her eyes. “Doin' great. This should only take a half hour or so. You want to scrub?”

“No,” Jason said and moved around the table to the anesthesia side of the drape. He looked at Nathan's face and felt a lump at the sight of him with a tube down his throat and his eyelids taped shut. “I'll just hang out with him up here if it's okay with everyone.”

“Fine with me,” Sheila said and the anesthesia doctor, whom Jason did not recognize, just shrugged and looked bored. “Let's get the graft,” Sheila said to the team scrubbing with her and moved down by the exposed square over Nathan's thigh. Jason decided the last thing he needed was to see them slice a bloody piece of his little guy's thigh skin off with their electric cheese-knife. He bent over beside Nathan's head and whispered in his ear.

“I'm here, buddy. I'm so sorry I'm late.” He felt a little rim of tears in his eyes, but they stayed off his cheeks. Nathan's cheek felt cool when he touched it lightly. The ventilator hissed and the little boy's chest rose. Jason looked up and saw the anesthesiologist looking at him curiously.

“He related to you?” he asked. He seemed a little uncomfortable now with Jason's presence.