Blood & Spirits (22 page)

She shakes her head and buries her face in my shoulder again. I stand there with her for a few moments, then I pull back. I can tell she needs more attention, but I just can’t give it to her. Right now, time is of the essence.

Once she’s left the house, I look at Jules. I know it was him who went in and shut off my emotions like they were switches. He’s trying to comfort me in the best way he knows how, but it’s just making me painfully hollow. I am not coping well.

He takes my hand in his and looks into me. “You will continue forward. You will make me proud. You will not let whatever is thrashing against you succeed in stopping you. You will avenge those you care for.”

He’s right.

“I think we need to go to the hospital.” He’s agreed with me before I speak the words.

We walk out to the driveway and get in the Charger. As I pull out I still have hope that Frank and Julie are alive.

MERCY HOSPITAL IS AN IMPOSING
eight story structure designed in the early 70’s to, apparently, resemble a tombstone. It overlooks the interstate on the edge of the suburb of Twin Pines. Lately I’ve had far too many people I care about here. One is too many, I have six. But Frank being here I not only don’t like, I can’t stand.

The room smells. I’m sure I’d notice that if I was still alive, but it’s far more pronounced now than it should be. It’s not as bad as the places I’ve been to with Paco, but it’s just as disgusting in its own way. Beyond the odor it’s also small, cold, and uncomfortable. But I think I’m being nitpicky subconsciously, due to my desire to be anywhere else but here, with a healthy Frank by my side.

The brightness of the stark eggshell walls, even in the dim light of his room, is overpowering. I know deep down that this sterile environment is what he needs to live, but lying motionless in that bed with tubes and wires and machines making him breathe, I can’t help but think that this way of living is not living at all for someone as beautiful as him. I stand watch over him lying there, and wish it could have been me to take the suffering and wounds, not him.

The room is somber and quiet as Piper, Jules and I all look intently at our friend as he struggles to keep his life. Inappropriate as always, a thought occurs to me and I laugh a little prompting Piper, thinking I’m crying, to ask if she can do anything for me.

“No, Pi, I just had a thought. This is a Catholic hospital and I’m pretty sure Frank’s agnostic.” I don’t even take note of the shocked look on her face, I just keep going. “Or atheist, I’m not sure. Maybe if he makes it through this he’ll ‘believe.’”

Jules also ignores Piper’s reaction to my choice of conversation. “I seem to remember there being another hospital here in town. It’s not Catholic, is it?”

“Yeah, it’s a great place to send people you don’t care about.” I’m doing all I can with Jules’ help to bury my sadness and stay cold. I love Frank too much to lose him like this, but I’m going to lose more people I love if I give in to my guilt and sadness.

The nurse comes in to check on him. She looks over the machines, makes some notes, and then decides to speak to us. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over for the day, but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow.”

“Someone is going to stay with him.” It’s only a statement, nothing more, but my tone makes her jump.

“No, I’m sorry…” She falters and stops as she reads over his chart. “All right, that’s fine. I’m sorry.”

Jules leans over and whispers in my ear what I didn’t want to know. “They don’t expect him to make it through the night. They have him comfortably sedated and are waiting for the end.”

I keep my voice low, but I’m a little hysterical. “I can’t do it. I can’t stand in this room and watch him die. I can’t. I’m doing everything I can to not let this effect me, and I know you’re trying to help, but I have to go right now. I have to walk around for a minute. I can’t just stare at him fading away.”

I walk out of the room and down to the end of the hall. The window here looks out over the interstate so I watch vacantly as the traffic goes by, crushing myself with guilt. I‘m coming apart, unraveling. One minute I’m ice cold and ready to go get my vengeance, the next I feel like everyone would be better off if I were dead, and then I’m cracking jokes. I’m sure my therapist would write me another prescription for this, but I’d have to down the whole bottle to level me out right now.

I walk to the waiting room and find myself a chair. Before I can sit down though a hand grabs may arm and spins me around.

It’s Lewis. He’s bandaged on his hands and up his right arm from burns. He looks almost as bad as I feel. This is hard for him. I would never deny that or the depth of his feelings for Frank after the years they spent together. He’s fuming pissed though, he blames me more than I do, and this is not going to go well.

“I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to show your face here. But I guess you just do whatever you want, whenever you want, no matter what, huh? You don’t care who you step on or who you break?” He’s so upset that he’s spitting at me while he’s yelling.

I look around at all the other people in the waiting room before I reply. “Do you really think this is the most appropriate place to have this discussion?”

 “You’re the reason he’s in that bed, you bitch! You’re like rat poison for the soul to all the people you come in contact with. Maybe you should do the world a favor, and let the hit men after you do their job. But that’ll have to wait, because right now I got news for you, you spoiled brat. I’m done. Veronica Fischer, you are under arrest…” He trails off and falls backward onto the sofa.

“I couldn’t take any more of that. His melodramatic histrionics were beginning to drone.” Jules says it with such distain that I can’t help but love him, even if I did half-heartedly agree with Lewis.

I didn’t even notice him walk up behind me.

“You didn’t…I mean…” I’m a little worried, for Frank’s sake if nothing else.

“Kill him? No. He’ll wake up with a sharp headache in a few hours and wonder what happened. If he bothers to be examined they’ll tell him that it’s high blood pressure, likely due to job related stress.” He looks around at the people coming and going nearby before continuing more softly. “We need to talk somewhere privately. I think I have a plan.”

Jules and I get on the elevator and stand next to each other. When the door closes I turn to look at him and he raises an eyebrow quizzically before speaking.

“I’ve had some time to reflect on your situation, even with these most recent twists, and I think I see the pattern you’ve missed.”

My curiosity is piqued. “I don’t doubt that I’m too close to the situation and too emotional to see clearly. What’s your plan?”

“I’ve been remembering your encounters with Paco, and I believe you should call and set up a meeting with him, without mentioning I’m in town. Let him know that things have gone from bad to worse, and with the Council against you there’s nowhere else you can turn. You need his help. If he agrees to meet with you, and I’m almost certain he will, you should agree to whatever he asks of you, whatever terms he puts forth.”

I don’t say a word. I don’t have to. He knows that I think he’s completely lost his mind.

“I’ll be there to save you if it comes to that, I won’t let you get hurt, but I have a feeling this move will take us to checkmate and get all your pieces back. You see, I believe that Frank was right and Paco has been setting you up. I think a lot of this could have been avoided if you had trusted his instincts. I know from your memories of him that you’re aware his hunches aren’t wrong often.”

He’s right. I know to trust and listen to Frank more than I have been. I started reacting to things as they were happening, not stepping back to see the bigger picture, and not trusting in the assets I know I have.

“I just want to go on record here that I’m hesitant to put myself in Paco’s hands. But I trust you, I’ve never seen one of your plans fail utterly, and you’ve never let me get hurt. Besides, anything is better than sitting here doing nothing.” I let out a deep sigh and dig into my purse for my phone. I hope he realizes that I take being molested -- outside of a paying arrangement -- as harm to my person, and he said he wouldn’t let me get hurt.

When the doors open we’re in the lobby, looking at Leslie who was waiting on an elevator going up.

She says that short of the girls who are in here, everyone else is accounted for and at the hotel. When she left them they were swimming in the pool and trying to turn this into a vacation.

I ask if she’d mind relieving Piper. I want someone in Frank’s room around the clock so if anything happens I’ll know as soon as it does.

She seems to be okay with that and gets on the elevator. Jules follows her, and tells me to make my phone call.

I really don’t want to make this call, but I’m gonna be a soldier and follow the plan.

I press the button to dial and it doesn’t get all the way through one ring when he answers.

His acidic voice sounds only too happy to hear from me.

I stick to my script. I tell him that things have gotten bad, the house burned and now Julie is dead and Frank is in the hospital. I let out some of the tears I’ve been holding back and ham it up. I pretend that Learner not liking me is really a bother to me, and that because of him the Council stands against me. I have no one to turn to, I need him, he’s is my only hope.

I don’t think I’m doing a good job selling this because there’s no way I’d have ever said any of this without coaching. But I guess I missed my calling, I might have won Oscars, because this thick zombie is eating it up.

He tells me how he knew I would be calling, and that I was wise to finally do what was in my best interest. I fight the urge to ask him if he’s stoned, and instead ask him where he’d like to meet.

“The usual place, tomorrow night. It’s almost dawn and I wouldn’t want you to burn up,” he says. That’s great.

I tell him I’ll be there and hang up. I really could kick Jules right now, but he was right about everything so far. Now I just have to make sure my girls and Frank are secure and that Jules is gonna get me out if things go wrong and I’m on my way.

What have I gotten myself into?

I AM COMPLETELY UNPREPARED
for this. At this point I don’t even know if I’ll be alive tomorrow. The thin wispy fog that’s rolled up from the river into the low lying areas like this one makes even the most well lit parts of the treatment plant seem like a dream. A nightmare, really.

I can see as I pull through the open gate that Paco’s van is here, but so are several other cars. A Jaguar and a Mercedes definitely stand out in the fenced-in lot. Way to be inconspicuous guys.

When I woke up I had Jules take me to get the old beater pickup we use to move furniture and equipment between houses. There was absolutely no way I was going to go alone to meet with Paco in a car I cared about.

Slogging my way through the mud, I make my way slowly over to the overflow tunnels and start to head down. I’m actually adjusting to the rancid smell that hits me as I enter.

At the bottom of the steps I’m back in the large open space where all of these tunnels converge, a sort of cathedral to all the filth that gets washed down the drains, off the streets, and out of the public places of the living. The ceiling is over fifteen feet up from the groove in the center of the floor I’m standing in. I’m a bit overwhelmed by the enormity of this place, where the dead and rotting things are washed away to.

I only get a few paces out from the steps I came down before I see him, and he’s not alone. He’s on a platform that overlooks most of the chamber I’m standing in. Cables have been slung haphazardly up and around the support beams to provide power for the lights dangling down over the table they’re sitting at. There’re probably half a dozen of them there with him and a few of them are far too well-dressed to be in a place like this. They’re intensely focused on their conversation but the echo in here is keeping me from making out what they’re saying. No matter what the reason is, it’s still strange to see him with people like that.

He sees me and stands, calling a halt to the conversation and bringing all their eyes on me. I could swear I recognize a few of them, but I just can’t place from where. He’s down the ladder in moments and moving quickly in my direction, though I really wish he wasn’t, trying to make his loose fitting skin contort into a smile.

The rotting mass is bolder than ever, taking me physically in his arms and rubbing on me as a greeting. I don’t want to think about what the liquid was that I feel running down my leg as he squeezes me tightly. I’m nearly at my breaking point with this when he finally lets me down to stand in front of him.

“Hello, pet. I heard your hunting dog got shot. Has he been put down yet?” And I almost ruin the plan by taking his head off right there.

“You’re not talking about Frank, are you?”

“I forget sometimes that you still attach undue value to the living, I apologize.” The word falls out of his mouth like he’s allergic to it.

I look up at the men sitting at the table above us, and then lower my eyes back to him, leaning forward slightly before continuing our conversation. I never thought about there being an audience for this.

“You said you’d meet with me because I needed help. I’ve had a lot of things happening lately. Like my life is coming apart. How much of what’s happened do you know?” I put a pouting lilt in my voice as I look up at him.

 “I know that you’re not safe here. You haven’t been safe for quite some time now. Many forces have risen against you on all sides.” He tries to sound concerned for my well being, like we haven’t met before.

Taking my hand and practically dragging me with him we walk further down into the tunnels. I never realized how big these tunnels actually are.

“You’re problem, pet, is that you are without a place. You are an orphan to your own kind and they distrust and shun you, but the living have no place for you either, and the spirits, well they can’t exist in your world or you in theirs for very long. You need to belong.” Now he’s starting to turn on the snake oil charm; shame for him I already know not to believe him.