of things we never thought we would before this whole thing is over.” Red Feather tucks the blanket around the girl and she begins to snore, a sound that reminds them she was just in werewolf form.
Red Feather and Günn quietly move to leave the room thinking it’s easier to fall on OJ Simpson’s side than explain this.
Nurse Pratchett approaches them, frowning. “Were you two smoking on the stairwell?”
“No ma’am, not us.” Red Feather’s eyes shift and Pratchett knows he’s lying. Günn smells burning tar, her ability takes no vacations even when she’s a guilty party.
“Right,” Pratchett draws out the word. She puts the wolf girl’s IV drip back in, checks her vitals, tucks the blanket in around her body. “The doctor’s on his way, but looks like she’s okay again for the time being.”
Günn is struck by her matter-of-fact-ness. “You’re not surprised by this?” Günn’s curiosity gets the better of her.
“Frankly, Detective, I’ve got a sick boy at home who’s dying very quickly of leukemia. My home is essentially a hospice at the moment. I was supposed to be with him hours ago, but instead my twelve-hour shift has become eighteen and still, I’m here. So you’ll have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm.” Nurse Pratchett feels tears prick her eyes. These overtime shifts run her ragged.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, ma’am,” Red Feather says, shooting Günn a look that says You are an asshole . Günn avoids his eyes, and Nurse Pratchett’s. She’s not one for apologies, even when she knows she’s in the wrong.
Nurse Pratchett takes a shuddery breath. “Well, come on then, let me show you to the other two survivors.” She begins walking down the hall. Stops two doors down. Inside, the fifty-something screamer tosses and turns in her sleep. Red Feather hears a high-pitched whining sound in his head. Günn’s fillings rattle.
“What is that?” Red Feather rubs his temples as if a migraine settles in.
“We don’t know, but it’s coming from her.” Pratchett shakes her head, tired of thinking about how strange all this is.
“What do you mean ‘comes from her’?” Günn’s temper is back on the precipice.
“I’ve just about had enough of your tone, young lady,” Nurse Pratchett snaps. “What I mean is that sound is being emitted from that woman right there. You should hear it when she’s awake, like someone set off a sonar bomb inside your head.”
“When will the sedatives wear off?” Red Feather takes over.
“She burns through them like a heroin addict, but it’s the only way to keep her calm. One of the nurses had a heart attack. Whatever this lady is doing messes with electronics. The nurse’s pacemaker went kaput. All the machines on this floor stopped working. We can’t have that when there are still some patients on life support here.”
Red Feather runs his tongue across his molars, as if trying to placate the amalgam within. “Can we move her somewhere else?”
“If you can find a place in this hospital with no vital machines in it then be my guest. I’ll give you a heads up though—there isn’t one. Until we can figure out what’s wrong with her, she stays sedated.”
Günn knows it’s not worth it to argue. “Dammit!”
Pratchett gives Günn a stern look. “Would you like a tranquilizer, Detective? Looks like you could use a little relaxing yourself.”
Red Feather interrupts before Günn has a chance to retort. “What about the fourth survivor? Is she sedated also?”
Pratchett sighs the weight of the world. “I don’t think you’ll get much from her, but come on then, I’ll show you.”
The end of the hall. A locked door.
“What’s this about?” Red Feather looks at Nurse Pratchett.
She unlocks the door and they step inside. The room is empty. Günn’s eyes widen. “What the hell is going on here? You lost her?” In her head Günn starts drafting the whoop-ass letter that Pratchett’s boss will be receiving
Red Feather and Günn quietly move to leave the room thinking it’s easier to fall on OJ Simpson’s side than explain this.
Nurse Pratchett approaches them, frowning. “Were you two smoking on the stairwell?”
“No ma’am, not us.” Red Feather’s eyes shift and Pratchett knows he’s lying. Günn smells burning tar, her ability takes no vacations even when she’s a guilty party.
“Right,” Pratchett draws out the word. She puts the wolf girl’s IV drip back in, checks her vitals, tucks the blanket in around her body. “The doctor’s on his way, but looks like she’s okay again for the time being.”
Günn is struck by her matter-of-fact-ness. “You’re not surprised by this?” Günn’s curiosity gets the better of her.
“Frankly, Detective, I’ve got a sick boy at home who’s dying very quickly of leukemia. My home is essentially a hospice at the moment. I was supposed to be with him hours ago, but instead my twelve-hour shift has become eighteen and still, I’m here. So you’ll have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm.” Nurse Pratchett feels tears prick her eyes. These overtime shifts run her ragged.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, ma’am,” Red Feather says, shooting Günn a look that says You are an asshole . Günn avoids his eyes, and Nurse Pratchett’s. She’s not one for apologies, even when she knows she’s in the wrong.
Nurse Pratchett takes a shuddery breath. “Well, come on then, let me show you to the other two survivors.” She begins walking down the hall. Stops two doors down. Inside, the fifty-something screamer tosses and turns in her sleep. Red Feather hears a high-pitched whining sound in his head. Günn’s fillings rattle.
“What is that?” Red Feather rubs his temples as if a migraine settles in.
“We don’t know, but it’s coming from her.” Pratchett shakes her head, tired of thinking about how strange all this is.
“What do you mean ‘comes from her’?” Günn’s temper is back on the precipice.
“I’ve just about had enough of your tone, young lady,” Nurse Pratchett snaps. “What I mean is that sound is being emitted from that woman right there. You should hear it when she’s awake, like someone set off a sonar bomb inside your head.”
“When will the sedatives wear off?” Red Feather takes over.
“She burns through them like a heroin addict, but it’s the only way to keep her calm. One of the nurses had a heart attack. Whatever this lady is doing messes with electronics. The nurse’s pacemaker went kaput. All the machines on this floor stopped working. We can’t have that when there are still some patients on life support here.”
Red Feather runs his tongue across his molars, as if trying to placate the amalgam within. “Can we move her somewhere else?”
“If you can find a place in this hospital with no vital machines in it then be my guest. I’ll give you a heads up though—there isn’t one. Until we can figure out what’s wrong with her, she stays sedated.”
Günn knows it’s not worth it to argue. “Dammit!”
Pratchett gives Günn a stern look. “Would you like a tranquilizer, Detective? Looks like you could use a little relaxing yourself.”
Red Feather interrupts before Günn has a chance to retort. “What about the fourth survivor? Is she sedated also?”
Pratchett sighs the weight of the world. “I don’t think you’ll get much from her, but come on then, I’ll show you.”
The end of the hall. A locked door.
“What’s this about?” Red Feather looks at Nurse Pratchett.
She unlocks the door and they step inside. The room is empty. Günn’s eyes widen. “What the hell is going on here? You lost her?” In her head Günn starts drafting the whoop-ass letter that Pratchett’s boss will be receiving
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