Reaper's Fall
Page 85
My eyes snapped open again, and I jerked back so hard I would’ve fallen across the table if he hadn’t caught me.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his face like stone. “New game, Mel. I’m done riding bitch so you can feel good. Consider yourself warned.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
SIX MONTHS LATER
KOOTENAI MEDICAL CENTER EMERGENCY ROOM
“Todger’s back,” Sherri said, nudging me with her shoulder. “Drunk off his ass and hasn’t been cleaned up since the last time he was in here. Rock, paper, scissors to see who has to deal with him.”
I nodded and we counted to three. She went with paper, I was rock. Crap.
“Lucky bitch,” I said, rolling my eyes. She laughed, offering me a little finger wave. Todger was harmless enough, even if he did smell like a dead fish. The guy had been in and out of the ER for years, just one of the many mentally ill homeless guys we saw regularly. About six months back he’d found some temporary housing, but the last time he’d been in, he’d confided in me that the CIA had planted bugs in the apartment and that he wasn’t safe there. So far as I knew he’d gone back to sleeping under the bleachers down at Memorial Stadium. “Cops bring him in?”
“No, the warming station called an ambulance,” she said. “He started seizing on the floor, sounds like DT’s to me.”
I raised a brow. “Seriously? He’s trying to sober up?”
“Who knows with Todger? Anyway, you better get in there and check on him. We put him in a room, but Dr. Ives is busy with a real case and Dr. Baker is grabbing some food while she can. Said Todger would still be there when she gets back.”
Fair enough—Todger was a frequent flier at the ER, but what he really needed was long-term treatment. When I’d first started, I’d pestered the hospital social workers until they found him something, feeling all proud of myself. They’d warned me that it wouldn’t stick, and it hadn’t. He’d lasted less than a week before he walked away from the program, saying he didn’t like the psychiatric drugs or the people telling him what to do.
Based on his smell, I figured he didn’t like being forced to bathe, either.
“I’ll check on him,” I said, sighing. Taking a quick sip of my coffee, I left the nurses’ station and headed toward his room.
“I owe you one!” Sherri laughed, and it took everything I had not to flip her off. Knowing my luck, some administrator would see me and I’d get reported.
I smelled him before I saw him. For a small-town hospital, we got more than our fair share of homeless, so I’d gotten used to patients who reeked of feces and stale alcohol. Frankly, it was better than the smell of blood and rot, which scared the hell out of me. At least you can wash off shit and Todger wasn’t likely to die on me. I stepped into the room and reached for the curtain.
“Todger, I hear you’re back—”
He hit me from behind.
It took a split second to orient myself and then I was fighting. Unfortunately, that was just enough time for him to get his hands around my throat. Oh my God, is this really happening? Sweet, stinky Todger was attacking me, choking the life out of me and I couldn’t even scream for help. He slammed my head against the floor, sending bright bursts of pain exploding through my skull.
I kicked out, desperate to throw him off. My feet caught the computer cart, sending it crashing across the slick tiles. It slammed into something and then metal crashed to the floor, clattering loudly.
“I’ll kill you, bitch,” he hissed in my ear, slamming my head to the floor yet again. “I’m onto you. You’ve been feeding them information about me too long, but now you’ll pay. You’ll die!”
The last words rose in pitch, and then he started a long, high keening as his fingers tightened around my neck. Loud shouts penetrated the fog in my head, and then there was a flood of people in the room. Orderlies were pulling at him, prying his fingers off my throat as they dragged him away. Somehow I found the strength to scramble backward, huddling against the wall as I watched Sherri in action, an avenging angel with a hypodermic needle. She darted in, injecting him fast and hard.
Todger continued to fight, but I knew the meds would kick in fast. The reality around me seemed distant and hard to follow—shock. Then Sherri was next to me, coolly assessing as I caught snatches of conversation in the distance.
“Check on her.”
“Restraints . . . never saw this coming.”
“He’s been getting worse for months . . . call psych . . .”
“Melanie?”
I focused in on Sherri’s face, blinking.
“You’re in shock, babe. Stick with me, okay?”
“I’m fine,” I managed to whisper, trying to focus. My head hurt . . . a lot. But nothing else. No broken bones, nothing like that. “I’ll be just fine. No worries.”
Sherri gave a short laugh.
“Always the hero, aren’t you?” she said, although I caught a hint of fear in her voice. “On the bright side, maybe we’ll finally get an inpatient bed for Todger. At least for a while.”
“He’ll be right back out,” I managed to whisper, offering her a weak smile. “Probably won’t even remember what happened.”
That made her laugh.
“Sad but true,” she said. “Just watch, they’ll turf his ass five minutes after the hold ends.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his face like stone. “New game, Mel. I’m done riding bitch so you can feel good. Consider yourself warned.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
SIX MONTHS LATER
KOOTENAI MEDICAL CENTER EMERGENCY ROOM
“Todger’s back,” Sherri said, nudging me with her shoulder. “Drunk off his ass and hasn’t been cleaned up since the last time he was in here. Rock, paper, scissors to see who has to deal with him.”
I nodded and we counted to three. She went with paper, I was rock. Crap.
“Lucky bitch,” I said, rolling my eyes. She laughed, offering me a little finger wave. Todger was harmless enough, even if he did smell like a dead fish. The guy had been in and out of the ER for years, just one of the many mentally ill homeless guys we saw regularly. About six months back he’d found some temporary housing, but the last time he’d been in, he’d confided in me that the CIA had planted bugs in the apartment and that he wasn’t safe there. So far as I knew he’d gone back to sleeping under the bleachers down at Memorial Stadium. “Cops bring him in?”
“No, the warming station called an ambulance,” she said. “He started seizing on the floor, sounds like DT’s to me.”
I raised a brow. “Seriously? He’s trying to sober up?”
“Who knows with Todger? Anyway, you better get in there and check on him. We put him in a room, but Dr. Ives is busy with a real case and Dr. Baker is grabbing some food while she can. Said Todger would still be there when she gets back.”
Fair enough—Todger was a frequent flier at the ER, but what he really needed was long-term treatment. When I’d first started, I’d pestered the hospital social workers until they found him something, feeling all proud of myself. They’d warned me that it wouldn’t stick, and it hadn’t. He’d lasted less than a week before he walked away from the program, saying he didn’t like the psychiatric drugs or the people telling him what to do.
Based on his smell, I figured he didn’t like being forced to bathe, either.
“I’ll check on him,” I said, sighing. Taking a quick sip of my coffee, I left the nurses’ station and headed toward his room.
“I owe you one!” Sherri laughed, and it took everything I had not to flip her off. Knowing my luck, some administrator would see me and I’d get reported.
I smelled him before I saw him. For a small-town hospital, we got more than our fair share of homeless, so I’d gotten used to patients who reeked of feces and stale alcohol. Frankly, it was better than the smell of blood and rot, which scared the hell out of me. At least you can wash off shit and Todger wasn’t likely to die on me. I stepped into the room and reached for the curtain.
“Todger, I hear you’re back—”
He hit me from behind.
It took a split second to orient myself and then I was fighting. Unfortunately, that was just enough time for him to get his hands around my throat. Oh my God, is this really happening? Sweet, stinky Todger was attacking me, choking the life out of me and I couldn’t even scream for help. He slammed my head against the floor, sending bright bursts of pain exploding through my skull.
I kicked out, desperate to throw him off. My feet caught the computer cart, sending it crashing across the slick tiles. It slammed into something and then metal crashed to the floor, clattering loudly.
“I’ll kill you, bitch,” he hissed in my ear, slamming my head to the floor yet again. “I’m onto you. You’ve been feeding them information about me too long, but now you’ll pay. You’ll die!”
The last words rose in pitch, and then he started a long, high keening as his fingers tightened around my neck. Loud shouts penetrated the fog in my head, and then there was a flood of people in the room. Orderlies were pulling at him, prying his fingers off my throat as they dragged him away. Somehow I found the strength to scramble backward, huddling against the wall as I watched Sherri in action, an avenging angel with a hypodermic needle. She darted in, injecting him fast and hard.
Todger continued to fight, but I knew the meds would kick in fast. The reality around me seemed distant and hard to follow—shock. Then Sherri was next to me, coolly assessing as I caught snatches of conversation in the distance.
“Check on her.”
“Restraints . . . never saw this coming.”
“He’s been getting worse for months . . . call psych . . .”
“Melanie?”
I focused in on Sherri’s face, blinking.
“You’re in shock, babe. Stick with me, okay?”
“I’m fine,” I managed to whisper, trying to focus. My head hurt . . . a lot. But nothing else. No broken bones, nothing like that. “I’ll be just fine. No worries.”
Sherri gave a short laugh.
“Always the hero, aren’t you?” she said, although I caught a hint of fear in her voice. “On the bright side, maybe we’ll finally get an inpatient bed for Todger. At least for a while.”
“He’ll be right back out,” I managed to whisper, offering her a weak smile. “Probably won’t even remember what happened.”
That made her laugh.
“Sad but true,” she said. “Just watch, they’ll turf his ass five minutes after the hold ends.”
