The Donors (22 page)

“Jason, are you okay?” the boy asked. “I think we really gotta go.”

Jason looked at Jenny and tried to decide what to do next. He felt a lot of memories gel together. He saw his mother's dead body in the hospital room as they pulled a sheet over her face and told him the cancer had gotten her—but he had known better. She'd died because he left her behind. He wouldn't leave Jenny behind, or Nathan.

“Not this time,” he said and pulled the dead weight of Jenny into his lap.

“I don't think we can take her out of here and back to the other side,” Nathan said, a tremor in his voice. “I think she's gotta be awake to do it on her own.”

“I don't think she can even do it then,” Jason said and rose painfully to his feet with her limp body hanging from his arms. “I think we have to pull her back from the other side, but we need to get her out of here first. We have to take her somewhere safe.”

“Where's safe?” Nathan asked and gripped his forearm tightly. Jason saw him look nervously off to the left.

Not that way, Jedi. Not yet.

“Not that way, Jason,” Nathan said in an eerie whisper. “Not yet.”

“This way,” Jason said.

Together they struggled up the short rise and slipped over the little ledge. Nathan clutched at his arm and Jason realized it was impossible to avoid the cave blood puddles entirely with the awkward dead weight of Jenny and doing his best to keep Nathan close. Now and again his dirty feet tickled through one and he would feel pins and needles where the puddle touched his skin. It didn't feel nearly as gross as he thought, but he didn't like it either.

Find somewhere safe and easy, Jedi. The storm troopers are coming, but they aren't looking for you yet. You'll have to get to her on the other side quickly or it will be too late. You have a lot of work to do tonight.

Jason looked down at the boy beside him. Nathan stared straight ahead. Jason prayed quietly that together they would succeed where he alone had failed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jenny felt a strange, detached sort of awareness that she traveled somehow through a dark void that engulfed her. Far off she heard the buzzing murmur of voices that she knew to be Jason and Nathan, and though a part of her wanted to rush toward the sound, she knew that was not be an option.

Too late. I have to just stay here. I don't want to hurt anyone else. I have to get away from the demons.

So she floated in the void. If she came back from the dark, she felt certain that bad things would happen, not just to herself or to people she didn't know in the basement surgery room, but to people she loved. She had to keep her parents safe. She had to keep her brother safe. She needed very much to know that Nathan and Jason were safe, too. So she burrowed down into the darkness and let it engulf her.

I have to escape the demons and their voices. I'm sorry, Jason. I really do think that I loved you.

Other sounds penetrated the black cocoon she hid in—the sounds of surgical instruments clinked and clanged amid the muffled voices of an OR team at work. She felt a tremor of disgust and guilt at those sounds, very different from the fear and remorse she felt at the voices of her two boys. She needed to escape from what went on there even more, perhaps, than from the terror of the cave.

I am not brave enough to kill myself, but maybe I can just stay here and let myself die. Forgive me for being weak, Jason. Forgive me, Mom and Dad. I have to make it all stop.

In some reality, she had died slowly in the cave.

That felt okay to her.

 

*  *  *

 

Jason stared uncomfortably at Nathan, who leaned back against the dirty wall in the impossibly tight little cave in which they had hidden before—a lifetime ago. He felt deeply moved by the boy's insistence that he stay with Jenny, whose lifeless head he cradled in his little lap. Jason had done his best to curl his girlfriend's limp body into the small space as best he could. With the two of them back as far as they could go together, Jason could fit only his upper body in behind them and felt terribly vulnerable with his own lower half jutting out into the larger passageway.

“Are you sure you're okay, Nathan?” he asked.

Nathan nodded his head but his eyes were filled with fear. “I think so,” he whispered. “Just hurry back.”

“Look,” Jason said. “If I can get her back to the other side, then I guess she'll just sort of disappear, right?”

Nathan nodded his head. “I guess so,” he said.

“Okay, if that happens I want you to come back immediately to your room and I'll meet you there. Got it?” Nathan nodded again. Jason hesitated a minute. He certainly didn't want to give the boy anything else to worry about. “Look, Nathan,” he began and watched the boy closely. “If anything else happens—anything at all—I want you to come back over right away. We'll figure out what to do next, but come back okay?”

“You mean just leave her here?” Nathan asked. His eyes grew wide.

A picture of himself as a young boy, running up the rise and away from his mommy, flashed in Jason's mind. He felt horrible guilt and inadequacy looking at the little boy for whom such an act seemed unthinkable.

“We can help her better together and I'll need your help,” Jason told him. “Do you understand?” The boy nodded but still seemed confused. “I can't lose you both,” he told him and felt tears in his own eyes.

“Okay.” This time he seemed to understand. “It'll be okay, Jason. We'll save her.”

“I'll be right back,” he promised.

Then he closed his eyes and concentrated hard on the feel of the sofa beneath him and the sounds of the city outside the apartment. He found it difficult at first, distracted by the sound of Nathan's heavy breathing, but he forced that from his mind and the city sounds got louder. He felt the coarseness of blue jeans on his legs—a feeling he would normally be oblivious to—and opened his eyes in the dark apartment.

Jason took one long, sighing breath and then jumped to his feet, noticed that his keys were still clutched painfully in his balled up fist, and headed for the door.

The ride to the hospital took only a few minutes but felt like nearly a day. He had no idea where to look for Jenny, but felt certain she would be at the hospital somewhere. As he pulled into the parking garage, he started to panic at the thought of how many places there were to search. What if she wasn't even at the hospital at all? He picked up the pace as he twisted upward in the deck, and heard the wheels of his car squeal as he rounded each corner on his way to the top floor. He remembered Jenny telling him how she always ended up on the top floor.

Sure enough, in the middle of the otherwise empty lot he saw her grey Ford Escape, poorly parked in a center space. Jason jerked to a halt beside her truck. He pulled out his keys and sat silently for a minute, then checked in on Nathan.

Nathan? Can you hear me, buddy?

Yeah. We're here. We're okay right now and I don't smell the fart smell or nothin'.

Jason couldn't help but smile and decided this would not be the time to correct grammar.

Do you have any idea at all where Miss Jenny might be at the hospital?

He waited through an uncomfortably long pause and started to worry that something had happened. Then Nathan's voice returned to his head, smaller and more frightened.

I don't know. I tried to see inside her head but it looks so dark in there.

The voice sobbed a little and Jason thought about telling him to come back but didn't.

It's okay, bud. I'll find her.

She's somewhere where she can lay down and people won't think that's funny.

Brilliant. Of course Nathan was right—there were only so many places where she could be and not draw attention. The ER wouldn't work, because someone might know her, and the same would be true for patient rooms. The morgue, perhaps? That gave him a chill and caused his stomach to tighten.

Waiting rooms!

He didn't know if that had been his own thought, Nathan's, the other-him's voice, or someone else's, but it made a great deal of sense. Family members asleep on the long couches of waiting rooms were incredibly common, especially this time of night. The OR and ICUs would be the best spots to not raise suspicion.

I think I might know, Nathan. I'll let you know when I find her, but call if you need me and I can come right away, okay?

Okay.

Jason sprinted across the parking deck and pushed through the door to the stairwell—no way would his anxious body contain the adrenaline if he had to stand and wait for the elevator. He bounded down the stairs two at a time and by the time he reached the bottom his thigh, with its steel screws and plate from so long ago, screamed at him. He forced himself to slow his sprint as he entered the glass walkway to the hospital. He didn't need questions or attention from folks that might see him run through the hospital in street clothes. He needed to get to Jenny and get her and Nathan home, but he could make that happen faster by being calm.

Jason stopped first on the third floor and checked in the OR waiting room. It was still the weekend and the traumas had no doubt rolled in for hours; as expected, the waiting room looked packed full of family members, some huddled together and others stretched out for a long wait on the uncomfortable vinyl couches. No Jenny, however.

He had similar luck in the Burn/Trauma ICU and the Pedi ICU waiting rooms and started to lose hope. The Cardiac ICU sat on the fifth floor and Jason again took the stairs. His leg ached.

Did you find her?

Nathan's voice sounded no worse than before, but Jason imagined he must be terrified. He stopped in the stairwell so he wouldn't crash into a wall or fall down the steps. For some reason he needed to close his eyes to talk to Nathan.

Not yet, pal, but I got a few more places to check.

Hurry, Jason. I think I'm getting too scared.

Is Jenny okay?

Maybe he could give him something to think about other than imaginary sounds of the Lizard Men returning and hunting them down.

I guess so. She's making kind of snoring noises every now and then.

Okay, buddy. Keep checking on her. I have one more place to check and then I'm coming back if I don't find her.

Nathan didn't answer, but Jason knew he had heard, so he continued up the stairs and hurried to the Cardiac waiting room—which he found to be empty. He leaned back against the wall in bitter disappointment. What had he not thought of? Where was a waiting room that would be quiet?

Jason's eyes sprung open. The outpatient center, where people had minor procedures and tests and then went home. It had a huge waiting room with a big TV and everything. It would be empty this time of night after the SurgiCenter stopped for the day. Jason couldn't help but run to the fourth floor and then down the long, winding hall that led to the fourth floor annex. He could see blue light through the narrow window set into the heavy wood door of the waiting room. He passed the modern, floor-to-ceiling glass walls and door that led into the darkened procedure area of the outpatient center and then peered into the waiting room.

A large man in the dark blue pants and light blue shirt of an environmental services employee sat in a chair and munched on a cheeseburger from a Styrofoam container. His eyes were riveted to the TV screen where the late night re-run of
Entertainment
Tonight
told him all the juicy details of the rich and famous. Jason looked past the long legs, propped up on the mop bucket–turned-ottoman, and saw the familiar colorful scrub jacket on a figure curled up on a corner couch. The janitor seemed completely oblivious to her. Jason leaned his forehead against the door for a moment, suddenly exhausted, though thrilled

Found her.

Great. Hurry up.

Jason pulled open the door to the waiting room and the janitor jumped a little, startled at the late intrusion.

“Aw, shit,” he mumbled, but caught his container of fries just in time. “Sorry,” he said looking up at Jason. “Don't usually get much company this time a' day.” He stood up, apparently embarrassed.

“No problem at all,” Jason said. He wanted desperately to run to Jenny, but that would clearly not do. “My wife seems to have wandered to the wrong waiting room,” he said and gestured toward Jenny's motionless body across the room. “She has had such a hard time since our daughter got so sick.”

“Yeah, I saw her, but I didn't want to disturb her,” the man said and closed the lid on his unfinished dinner. “Let me give ya'll a little privacy.”

“Thanks so much,” Jason said as the man pushed his mop bucket awkwardly past him and through the door. “Everyone here has been so wonderful,” Jason added as the man closed the door behind him.

Jason hustled over to the couch and knelt on the floor beside his girlfriend's motionless body. Gently he stroked her hair from her face and then, tears in his eyes, kissed her cheek, which felt hot to his lips. He pulled back and examined her face. Flushed and moist with sweat, she really did look like an exhausted family member, asleep after an emotional day. Her breathing was deep, but not labored. So now what? Jason leaned in closer to her ear.

“Jenny,” he said into her ear. “Baby, it's me, Jason. Can you hear me?”

Her body responded by pulling in long breaths. Jason felt a new anxiety grow inside him. He had told Nathan he would try and pull her back across to this side, but now he realized how stupid that sounded. He didn't even know what it meant to pull her or what this side or that side meant. He gently shook her body at the shoulder which did nothing but make her head lull to one side. Her eyelids were half open and while at least here her eyes didn't have that milky-white, dead look, they were every bit as lifeless. Her face had the same slack and unseeing appearance of the handful of brain dead patients he had seen. Jason didn't think she really was brain dead, but she certainly appeared comatose. In a panic he shook her a little more vigorously.

“Jenny, wake up. Wake up, goddamnit.” He realized his voice had risen to a shout and tried to calm himself down.

Doesn't work that way, Jedi. Can't do much from here, not now.

“Bullshit! You said I had to come here.”

That window is closed. She's too far gone now.

“Is she dead? Is she going to die?” he asked the voice in his head.

Maybe. Don't know yet. But you can't save her and certainly not here, not anymore. You need the power of the other one and he needs your courage to find that power.

“The other one?” But he knew the answer.

Nathan. He holds the power that you abandoned, but you have to help him find it.

“How?” he moaned to the empty room. “What do we have to do?”

Nathan will have to figure that out. All you can do is help.

Jason stared at the motionless body of the woman he felt pretty sure he was in love with. He couldn't leave her here in the waiting room. Someone might discover her and take her to the ER where they would start doing pointless procedures to her. Or worse, take her somewhere else for their own procedures.

Jason tucked her head gently into a more natural and comfortable position—

Like she gives a shit

—and dashed for the door. He saw what he needed beside the plain wooden door—the less dramatic employee entrance to the outpatient center—a few yards away. He grabbed the wheelchair, brought it into the waiting room and positioned it as close to Jenny as he could.

Jason. You have to come back here.

He stopped and looked around the room, then wiped tears from his eyes and closed them. Nathan's voice sounded so clear, as if he stood right beside him.

Are you okay, buddy?

Yeah, but you have to come back. It doesn't work that way anymore. The other voice told me you have to come back.