Souls in Peril (40 page)

Coma?
Max didn
’
t like the sound of that at all.

“
‘
Please remember her in your prayers,
’
” Mrs. Volkel continued. “
‘
We
’
ll update you as we receive any new information. Thank you again for your support. Bev and Martin McKay.
’
”

Mrs. Volkel tucked the note in the pocket of her bright red jacket. “We
’
ve set up a few rooms at the high school for everyone to gather, easing the burden from the hospital. We
’
ll be providing pizza and soda. Also, the school
’
s counselors will be there.”

Slowly the room emptied as everyone headed over to the school. “JD, I
’
ll give you a ride.” Jeff stood by the door, looking as worried as Max felt.

“I
’
m not going. I have a friend still here. I need to go upstairs and see her,” he said, adding, “Thanks again for helping me earlier.”

After a couple hours of mulling around the waiting room and reading a few of the five year old magazines, Max went up to see Izzy
again
and spent the evening playing board games with her.

“Izzy, you suck at
Monopoly
,” Max teased, as he divided his huge wad of cash back in the correct slots.

“Did you ever stop to think I let you win so you have to put all the money away?” she asked.

Max
’
s head popped up. “You do?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I
’
m not the one that sucks at
Sorry
.”

“Izzy, Izzy.
Sorry
is a game of chance.
Monopoly
is all skill,” Max pointed out, setting the lid on the box.

“Yeah, it was skill that landed you on every single property from Pacific Avenue to Boardwalk
.
T
he
most expensive side of the board.”

Max grinned. “I
’
m not going to lie, that was pretty sweet.”

Izzy laughed th
r
ough a yawn. “I
’
m tired, JD. Do you mind if we call it a night?”

“No. I need to—”

A perky redheaded nurse
came
in. “Time for your medication. Oh, hi. Are you new here?” she asked Max as Izzy took her pills.

“What?” he asked.

“Your scrubs, JD,” Izzy reminded him.

“Oh. No, I don
’
t work here,” he explained to the nurse. “My clothes are covered in, um, stuff, and I was given these to wear.”

“You fooled me.” The nurse
checked
Izzy
’
s IV before going on to the next room.

“JD, I just thought of something. Maybe you can sneak in and see Emma. That nurse is right. In those scrubs you look like you work here,” Izzy said in a low whisper.

Max loved the idea. Why hadn
’
t he thought of it? “I
’
ll need to stay here until late. I
’
m sure her parents are still here.”

“Call your mom and tell her you are staying with me again. Tell her I
’
m having a bad day or something.” Izzy handed him the phone.

Reluctantly,
Mel
okayed his wish to stay with Izzy overnight. Max sat in the recliner watching reruns of Seinfeld long after Izzy fell asleep.

At two in the morning, he quietly climbed out of the chair and crept down the hall toward the elevators, pushing the down button when he got there.

“JD?”

Max slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling out. He turned to see Dr. Colter from the
ER
standing behind him.

“I
’
m sorry. I didn
’
t mean to startle you.” He tucked a chart under his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Max said as the doors opened. Both Max and the doctor stepped onto the elevator.

“What are you doing here so late?”

“I
’
m staying with a friend who had surgery
and
got
a little hungry,” he said. “
I
’
m headed down to the vending machines.” Max reached for the
sixth
floor button.

“Vending machines are on the first floor.” Dr.
Colter reached around JD and pressed
the
one. “How
’
s the head? Any dizziness?” He leaned closer,
examining
the wound near his eyebrow.

“Nope, but the eye
’
s turning black and blue like you said.”

The door opened and Max stepped off, as did Dr. Colter. Max stood there not knowing which way to go. He needed to find the stairs and head back up to the
sixth
floor.

“JD, the machines are this way.” He pointed to the left. “I
’
ll show you. You
’
ve given me the munchies with your talk of food.” He rubbed his stomach. “I hope they have Oreos.”

Max reluctantly followed. Dr. Colter
’
s brown leather clogs made a hollow clunking sound against the linoleum floor. At the end of the hallway sat a row of four vending machines offering everything from tuna sandwiches wrapped in plastic to dry looking donuts. The doctor went to the last machine and slipped a dollar bill in the slot. A small pack of Oreo cookies dropped to the bottom. He reached in through the door and snagged them.

“Can you believe they charge you a dollar for four little cookies?” He shrugged. “Have a good night, JD.”

“You, too.” Max waited a few more minutes before hustling to the stairs and racing up the
six
flights to the ICU. Huffing and puffing, he stood in the dusky stairwell until he caught his breath. He opened the door a crack, checking for Em
’
s parents. Max watched as Marty led Bev to the elevators.

“We need sleep, sweetheart. They
’
ll call us if . . .” Max heard her mother
’
s sharp intake of breath. “I mean
when
she wakes up.
”

“What if she doesn
’
t? She
’
s been so obsessed with Max
’
s death, maybe she
’
s hoping to join him.” Bev punched the elevator button several times.

“Bev, don
’
t invite trouble. We have enough as it is.”

Max opened the steel door and stepped into the ICU floor as the elevator doors safely closed.

He quietly walked the ten yards to the ICU unit, picking up a chart from the counter at the nurses
’
station. He didn
’
t read it, but he pretended to. He circled around the unit searching for Em
’
s room.

“JD.” Max froze. “You know you
’
re not supposed to be in here. The ICU has a strict
family only
policy.” Dr. Colter took the chart from his hand.

“I
’
m sorry. I
’
m worried about her. She was acting all crazy yesterday, talking about her boyfriend that died last month and wishing she
’
d died, too. I just want to tell her to keep fighting and not give up,” Max blurted out.

He watched the kind doctor
’
s eyes search his face. “I can
’
t let you go in there. I
’
m sorry.” Max
’
s shoulders dropped. “Now, I need to sign some charts. It
’
ll take me twenty, maybe thirty seconds. I
’
ll be over here,” he pointed to a small alcove with a desk. “Do not go near room 467, bed B. Do I make myself clear?”
H
e winked.

“Yes, sir. Perfectly.” The second the doctor turned around, Max darted to room 467. His stomach clenched as he approached bed B. Em
’
s bed. Her pale skin unnerved him, as did the IV tethered to her arm. He could see her heartbeat on a small screen next to her bed.

“Em,” he said. “I only have a few seconds. Please don
’
t give up. Izzy needs you. She
’
s not doing so well. And I need you, too. People are starting to be nice to me now that you
’
re my friend. Not all of them, but some.” She didn
’
t respond, not that Max thought she would, but he did hope. He
heard Dr. Colter
’
s clogs approaching the room. Max bent down and kissed her forehead. “Max would want you to stay, Em. He always admired your strength. Please fight
.
”

“I
’
m sorry,” Dr. Colter said.

Max nodded, setting her hand down gently and giving it one last squeeze. Dr. Colter put his arm around Max
’
s shoulder as he escorted him to the elevator. “She
’
s lucky to have a friend like you, JD.”

Max shook his head. “No, I
’
m the lucky one.”

Chapter
2
3

“Five minute
s in the shower, fat boy.” Tim
eyeballed
Max
’
s face. “That beating looks good on you.” Tim flashed a malevolent grin as he stepped out the front door on his way to work.

“Drop dead, butt
face.” The comment was pure JD. Max couldn
’
t remember ever having said the words
buttface
.

He laughed. JD
grew stronger with each day
and it made Max
proud
. “Next time say it loud enough that he can hear you, buddy.”

Still tired from sleeping in a chair all night, Max contemplated crawling into bed and going back to sleep. But he didn
’
t want to upset Mel, nor did he want her to forbid him from going to the hospital after school. He forced himself into the bathroom.

T
he mirror
reflected the an
gry purple and red bruises
on t
he left side
of his rib cage.
The ones on the right were smaller, but hurt just as badly. Max set the water to cool, still hot from the early morning walk home from the hospital, and climbed in, wincing as the water hit his torso. He adjusted the flow to little more than a mist. He gingerly washed his battered body and hair. The entire torture session lasted three minutes. To spite Tim, he ran the water while dressing and brushing his teeth.

“Take that,
buttface
.” This time it was all Max spitting out the insult.

Having to move much slower with his injuries put him behind
,
and he arrived at the bus as the last student got on. He kept his head down and climbed the steps, not wanting to deal with the taunts. Because he was late, the front seats were taken. Sucking in a deep breath he forged his way toward the back. He had to endure a few Quasimodo comparisons, but no one tried to trip him. When he passed Nancy Daybell, she scooted over and smiled. The only other seat vacant, besides the back row, was next to Greg.

“Hi, JD. You can sit here if you
’
d like.” Pretty Nancy
,
with her curly brown hair
,
smiled at him. He glanced over at Greg, who sneered. Max, not being a fool, sat next to Nancy.

“I heard about what happen
ed
to your friend Emma yesterday. How is she doing?” Nancy
’
s look of concern seemed genuine.

“Not sure. We haven
’
t been told much yet.” Max slid his backpack between his legs on the floor.

“She
’
s very nice. I hope she
’
s okay,” she said. “What happen
ed
to you?
”

“I ran into a guy
’
s fist and feet a few times,” he joked.

“JD,
t
hat
’
s horrible. Why did he beat you up?”

“Because I
’
m breathing, I guess,” he said, shrugging. “Why aren
’
t you and Greg sitting together?”