before the inevitable happened.
Nixon pulled up a stool and sat down. “The cancer is spreading again. Your liver and kidneys are barely functioning.” The blood running through her catheter told her as much. “I don’t want to speak in weeks or days or hours, Allison. I want to talk options.”
Hours. Were things really that bad? “What options?”
He drew up a small dose from the vial. “Experimental ones.”
A new wave of pain hit and something wet and warm spread beneath her. Blood. The pain contracted and she pulled up her knees. She could tell he saw the mess.
“Oh, dear.” He pushed the button.
She wanted to pull the covers over her head and hide. No matter how many people wiped, washed, and examined her, the process was dehumanizing, embarrassing and she died a little each time.
“I’ve spoken to Zach about the risks and benefits. He agrees it’s what’s best, but I’m happy to go over them with you as well. I believe it’s the only way to reverse these effects. ”
Effects. Pissing and shitting blood in the most polite terms. She had vomited blood, too. The trifecta. The pain came again, more blood spilling from her. “Do it.”
Nixon had his eye on the door. “Excuse me?”
“Do it. Inject me, give me the pill, whatever it takes just do it. Please.” You have nothing to lose.
“Are you positive?”
She pulled her knees up, rolling on her side in a fetal position that was anything but dignified. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Nixon put the tip of the needle into the port in her IV tubing and administered the first dose.
13 .
Miranda covered her mouth with both hands, every omen against the Nixon Center culminating with the familiar, beaten boy in a chair. The clerk from Porter’s. “What did you do?”
Zach kept his palm to Reid’s chest and was only able to hold him off, she knew, because Reid let him.
Reid’s face and hands were blood-spattered and Billy was barely conscious. She picked up one of the crumpled posters on the floor and unfolded it.
“What was he doing here?” She confronted Reid. He didn’t answer and breathed deeply through his nose, his nostrils flaring. “Zach, what was he doing here?”
“I was looking for my sister.” Billy answered and his voice cracked.
Miranda knelt in front of him. His head hung down, a string of bloody drool running from the corner of his split lip.
“Get away from him!” Reid shouted.
Zach pushed him back. “Cool off, all right? Just cool off. Miranda, you should go.”
“I’m not leaving.” She took the boy’s hand. “Are you all right?” He nodded, but barely. “Can you stand up?”
“Miranda, please get away from him.” Zach said.
“He needs a doctor.” What the hell was wrong with these people?
Billy held up his hand. “No, no doctors. Just get me out of here.”
Miranda helped him stand. The boy staggered and then regained his balance.
Reid watched, grinding his teeth.
“Let me help you, let me call someone to come get you.” What kind of hospital was she working for?
“No, I mean it.” Billy steadied. “I don’t need help.”
Miranda sniffed his breath. Is that alcohol? She stormed over to Reid, pointing and shouting. She didn’t care that he was a tattooed maniac or almost two feet taller than her. The only thing she cared about was defending Billy. “You beat up a kid when he was drunk? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Zach stepped between them. “Miranda, please. Take the kid to his car, whatever you have to do, just go.”
The last thing Miranda ever did was what someone told her to do.
The office door slammed and Zach threw his hands up. “He’s gone, Miranda. Go get him, please.”
“Why don’t you go get him?” The two of them were up to something.
Reid’s face tightened. “Zach, shut up.”
“Someone answer me. What the hell is going on?”
Reid shoved Miranda and her feet went out from under her. Her head ricocheted off the wall and she
Nixon pulled up a stool and sat down. “The cancer is spreading again. Your liver and kidneys are barely functioning.” The blood running through her catheter told her as much. “I don’t want to speak in weeks or days or hours, Allison. I want to talk options.”
Hours. Were things really that bad? “What options?”
He drew up a small dose from the vial. “Experimental ones.”
A new wave of pain hit and something wet and warm spread beneath her. Blood. The pain contracted and she pulled up her knees. She could tell he saw the mess.
“Oh, dear.” He pushed the button.
She wanted to pull the covers over her head and hide. No matter how many people wiped, washed, and examined her, the process was dehumanizing, embarrassing and she died a little each time.
“I’ve spoken to Zach about the risks and benefits. He agrees it’s what’s best, but I’m happy to go over them with you as well. I believe it’s the only way to reverse these effects. ”
Effects. Pissing and shitting blood in the most polite terms. She had vomited blood, too. The trifecta. The pain came again, more blood spilling from her. “Do it.”
Nixon had his eye on the door. “Excuse me?”
“Do it. Inject me, give me the pill, whatever it takes just do it. Please.” You have nothing to lose.
“Are you positive?”
She pulled her knees up, rolling on her side in a fetal position that was anything but dignified. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Nixon put the tip of the needle into the port in her IV tubing and administered the first dose.
13 .
Miranda covered her mouth with both hands, every omen against the Nixon Center culminating with the familiar, beaten boy in a chair. The clerk from Porter’s. “What did you do?”
Zach kept his palm to Reid’s chest and was only able to hold him off, she knew, because Reid let him.
Reid’s face and hands were blood-spattered and Billy was barely conscious. She picked up one of the crumpled posters on the floor and unfolded it.
“What was he doing here?” She confronted Reid. He didn’t answer and breathed deeply through his nose, his nostrils flaring. “Zach, what was he doing here?”
“I was looking for my sister.” Billy answered and his voice cracked.
Miranda knelt in front of him. His head hung down, a string of bloody drool running from the corner of his split lip.
“Get away from him!” Reid shouted.
Zach pushed him back. “Cool off, all right? Just cool off. Miranda, you should go.”
“I’m not leaving.” She took the boy’s hand. “Are you all right?” He nodded, but barely. “Can you stand up?”
“Miranda, please get away from him.” Zach said.
“He needs a doctor.” What the hell was wrong with these people?
Billy held up his hand. “No, no doctors. Just get me out of here.”
Miranda helped him stand. The boy staggered and then regained his balance.
Reid watched, grinding his teeth.
“Let me help you, let me call someone to come get you.” What kind of hospital was she working for?
“No, I mean it.” Billy steadied. “I don’t need help.”
Miranda sniffed his breath. Is that alcohol? She stormed over to Reid, pointing and shouting. She didn’t care that he was a tattooed maniac or almost two feet taller than her. The only thing she cared about was defending Billy. “You beat up a kid when he was drunk? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Zach stepped between them. “Miranda, please. Take the kid to his car, whatever you have to do, just go.”
The last thing Miranda ever did was what someone told her to do.
The office door slammed and Zach threw his hands up. “He’s gone, Miranda. Go get him, please.”
“Why don’t you go get him?” The two of them were up to something.
Reid’s face tightened. “Zach, shut up.”
“Someone answer me. What the hell is going on?”
Reid shoved Miranda and her feet went out from under her. Her head ricocheted off the wall and she
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