The Donors (13 page)

“No,” Jason answered, though it felt a little like a lie. “No, I just took care of him on admission.”

“The ER guys are pretty touchy-feely,” Sheila prodded. “Jason here does this with all of his patients, which is why he always looks like shit.”

Jason chuckled but said nothing. He hadn't showered or shaved and he hadn't gotten a hell of a lot of sleep, either. He felt pretty sure that he did, in fact, look like shit. He thought of a couple of witty responses, but instead just gently stroked Nathan's cheek.

“I've kind of gotten attached to this one,” he said—like that gross understatement explained it all. “He's been through a lot.” The truth in that simple statement sobered the room and no one else said anything. The anesthesiologist checked his machine and monitors, nodded to himself, and settled back in his chair. Sheila tested the electric graft knife, which made Jason jump a little. Nathan's delicate chest rose and fell when the machine commanded.

“I'm right here,” Jason said again.

 

*  *  *

 

The sound of Jason's voice and the soft, though far away, feel of his hand on his cheek made Nathan's pulse stop pounding in his ears. He knew where he was, could feel the wet heat on his skin and smell the moist dirt that he laid in. He had been afraid to open his eyes, but hearing Jason's voice made him feel a little bit brave. He would be okay. Maybe he would even be able to leave if he wanted, since he could feel and hear Jason.

Don't count on it, Ranger. Time to Power Up.

Well, even if not, knowing Jason sat with him made it a little bit not-so-scary. Nathan opened his eyes slowly and found himself right where he knew he would be—on his side in the dirty cave. He had not expected to see one of the sticky-looking purple puddles right next to his head, and seeing it made him sit up quickly. Nathan saw immediately that he lay right beside a little stream of the reddish-purple goo which ran down the wall and made the puddle near his face, and he scrambled to his feet.

As he looked around, he saw more little purple streams running down the walls and he wondered what that meant. It kind of looked like the cave had begun to bleed. The rise where he could look down into the big room, where the Lizard Men seemed to feed, was just a few paces away and Nathan wanted desperately to check and see if Jenny was there. But he felt a lot more afraid this time; the burning question of whether he would be able to escape back to Jason if the creatures saw him tugged at him, and he stood a moment, unsure what to do.

There looked like a little passageway just behind him that branched off in another direction, and for a moment he thought about maybe scurrying down that narrow path and just hiding until his surgery was over. But even before his in-his-head voice called him a scaredy cat, he knew he had to make sure Jenny looked alright. He hoped she wasn't there at all, but knew she would be.

Nathan walked slowly up the slope of the path and maneuvered awkwardly around the purple puddles, which seemed harder to avoid this time. Up on his toes he sneaked around what he now thought of as cave blood and tried not to get any on him.

At the rise he dropped down again on his naked belly, relieved and happy that he saw no blood puddles, and sneaked up the last few feet to the rise. Then he peered over the edge.

Again Jenny lay naked and sweaty, writhing slowly in the corner. The man with the bashed-in brains had fallen over and looked gray and old, a dark stain around his head in the dirt. Nathan heard the soft noises from the Lizard Men, who bent over Steve's barely moving body. Their dinosaur heads leaned over Steve's and now and again they grunted at each other. The eyes in those demon heads glowed a lot redder today, and he wondered if that meant they really had grown stronger.

The taller creature leaned over suddenly and pointed one impossibly long, black claw at Steve's bare belly then pushed the claw into Steve with a little spurt of dark blood. Slowly, the demon dragged the claw downward and Steve's belly split open with a little splash of bloody water. His guts rolled out of him and fell in a pile, like thick gray sausages, beside him in the dirt. The sound of Steve's cry bounced off the walls and pounded into his head and he balled a dirty fist up and shoved it into his mouth to stifle a scream.

Nathan tried to force away his fear, but the creatures didn't seem to notice the smell of him this time. Instead they focused only on Steve as they bent over and started to feed. Nathan felt sick and scared and thought he might spit up. He wanted to slip down from the ledge and hide, but he couldn't take his eyes off the horrible sight in front of him and he wanted to watch to make sure they didn't feed on Jenny next. He suddenly felt alone and way too little.

Help me, Jason. Please come here and help me.

 

*  *  *

 

They were back now. He had passed out for most of the cold, wet washing of his belly—his terror taking him away—and then checked in for a moment to see how things came along. Now the towels seemed all in place, tucked in a tight square around his exposed belly, and his eyes stared at the white and black checkered ceiling while his ears listened to the clink of metal on metal. Now and again the ceiling seemed to shimmer, slowly take on the darker image of the ceiling of a cave, then faded slowly back to his familiar checkerboard. He thought the pulse in his temples would explode his head right off his neck and prayed something would burst in his brain and he would die quickly.

The shimmering cave-ceiling came again into view and a horrifying dinosaur head leaned over him, red slit of a mouth open, long teeth wet and glistening. He heard a grunt that may have been him, but probably was the raptor-man. Then the head shimmered and the lights came up and he stared into the glowing red embers of Mr. Clarke's shadowy eyes.

“The pain you have felt until now is nothing,” the monotone whisper told him. “We will tear you apart, rip out your organs while you watch and listen, and you will bleed to death as we devour you from inside. You will die only when I say so. Do you understand?”

The terror consumed him, and he heard Mr. Clarke moan with the pleasure of a man coming; his head tilted back and his mouth split impossibly wide around his long teeth.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes, feed me.”

He stood up and went out of view.

“Kidneys first.” He heard Clarke say.

“Look,” a stuttering voice said. “I think we need to give him a little something. Fentanyl or something—please.” The voice hesitated. “You know he can feel everything, right?”

The creature's voice echoed off the walls. “IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT. GET ME MY FUCKING ORGANS!”

He felt trembling fingers on his bare belly and his mind jumped at the touch because his body couldn't. The nurse with the cold blue-green eyes bent over him, her eyes on his, and for a moment she seemed to really see him, but then the moment disappeared and the stones turned cold again. She turned and looked away, adjusting an IV or something.

He felt a sharp blade on his skin, just below his breastbone and for a moment it hesitated. Then the voice bellowed again.

“NOW.”

He felt a sharp, ripping pain move fast from his breastbone downward, stopping just above his dick. His brain exploded with a million signals—half screamed at his body to do something to stop the horrible pain and the other half failed to answer the signals to every muscle in his body to sit up, run, swing arms and legs—do some goddamn thing. Another searing pass of the knife and he felt a terrible pull, a tearing sensation as his belly split apart, and then he felt warm, wet things slide down over his right side.

His mind screamed at him again as he realized that it was his own guts he felt spew out of his belly onto the bed. The room got dark for a moment and he tried to scramble into the darkness, to pass out or die or anything that would take him away. Then a new pain, a vague and uncertain feeling that seemed hard to localize but came from deep inside of him, brought the light back and he stared through tear-filled eyes at the ceiling again.

“Can you pull the colon over out of the way?”

“How's that?” Another ripping pain accompanied the question. He felt his stomach lurch and his throat filled with warm, stinging vomit that spilled out onto his face. It trickled into his right eye and he felt a burning pain from the acidic liquid. Then the pain inside him took over again.

“Okay, hold that there—perfect.”

“Can I have a dever retractor?”

“Here you are, Doctor,” the stone-eyed nurse answered, only her voice quivered now.

Now that I'm dead, you give a shit? You fucking whore. If I could move I would fuck you to death, you bitch.

Another shock of pain, like someone drove a sword right through him.

“You see that bleeder?”

“Just leave it.”

“Let me have a bovie. Here, help me get in behind here. See the hilum?”

“Clamp,” the shaky man's voice said. “Put it across the vessels, there.”

“Scissors.”

“Got a kidney coming out.”

A short, sharp pain inside and then it felt like a small animal was moving around inside of him. He could see nothing out of his right eye and his left looked blurry, filled with tears. The voices faded farther and farther away, and Steve knew where he was going. He felt incredibly weak, but became aware that his right foot rocked back and forth in response to every shock of pain from inside him. He balled up his fists, but his arms were too weak to rise. He strained with all his might and just barely lifted his head out of the wet dirt, his eyes wide, and looked downward in terror, knowing what he would see.

One of the dinosaur heads was buried snout-deep inside his belly. His intestines lay curled in a circle beside him and his belly lay split wide open, gaping up at the ceiling. He felt a terrible ripping pain and then the face came out of his belly, a dark purple, crescent-shaped hunk of flesh in its long teeth. He screamed as the beast tilted back its head and greedily ate his left kidney.

“NOOoooo!” His screams echoed away and he squished his eyes closed when the other creature bent over, hesitated a moment, then shoved its long face deep inside again.

He lay back, eyes closed, and let out scream after scream, just as the creatures had promised.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The voice sounded so real that Jason looked around to see if the anesthesiologist might have heard it. The man still looked bored and flipped through a copy of “The Kiplinger Letter”, occasionally looking up at the monitors to make sure his ward still looked stable. Jason looked again at Nathan's motionless face—the eyelids taped and the tube through his vocal cords obviously made any sound impossible. But the sound hung in the air around him anyway.

Please come here and help me.

“How?” he said aloud without meaning to. The anesthesiologist looked at him curiously over his magazine.

“How what?”

“Uh,” Jason stammered. “Oh, uh, never mind,” he said, trying to sound like he had figured some mystery out on his own. The other doctor shrugged, looked at the vital signs on the monitor, and returned to his reading.

Jason peered over the blue drape that separated them from the surgical field. Sheila had taken and prepped the piece of skin from Nathan's thigh, leaving a little square of red blood in the field of brown prep, and now scraped away at his hand and finger to prepare the surface to accept the graft. They had maybe another fifteen or twenty minutes to go and then they could start to wake Nathan up.

Hurry, Jason. I think they see me.

The voice sounded terrified and Jason stood up. He didn't know what he could do but some far away memory told him he couldn't do it from here.

“Hey, Sheila,” he said as he strode as casually as he could to the door, “can you page me when you're done and waking him up? I'd like to be there in recovery when he comes around.”

“No problem,” his friend said more softly. She seemed to sense it was a bad time for a joke. “Nearly done—I'll call you in a few.”

“Thanks,” he said and pushed through the heavy door.

Outside Jason tore his mask off his face, suddenly feeling like he couldn't get enough air. He fast walked out of the OR and headed down the hallway to a locked door labeled “Resident Call Rooms.” Jason's hands shook as he punched in the code, fumbled, and had to start over. Finally, he heard a magnetic click and he pulled the door open. The parallel hallways had row after row of doors labeled with the various specialties that took in-house call. He found one that was cracked open (it happened to be labeled cardiology) and went inside, pulled the door closed harder than he meant to, and then spun the lock, knowing it would turn a green tab to red near the handle, letting anyone who came along know that this room was occupied, probably by an exhausted resident trying to steal a few minutes of sleep.

Jason sat on the edge of the narrow bunk and rubbed his face with both hands. He listened for Nathan's voice and searched desperately for the memory that would tell him how to get to the cave. He remembered only going there—just lying down and going—but how?

He lay back on the bunk, crossed his arms on his chest, and tried to slow his breathing. Forcing himself to concentrate on a slow inhale and a slow exhale, he closed his eyes and tried to picture what he remembered of the cave in his head. Twenty years of cobwebs started to melt away and he began to see it more clearly in his mind.
Nathan needs me. And anyway, they can smell fear.

Yeah, don't be a scaredy cat.

The second voice felt déjà vu familiar. He slowed his breathing more and warmth began wrapping around him.

I'm coming, little buddy.

 

*  *  *

 

Nathan heard Jason's voice and for a moment felt terrified that the Lizard Men would hear it too. Then he remembered that he probably just heard the voice in his brain. The creatures had already looked his way once; one of them sniffed the air, and he felt certain that they could smell him ‘cause he felt so scared. After a moment, though, they went back to tearing Steve apart so Nathan crouched lower and sobbed as quietly as he could.

Jason will be here in a minute. He'll know what to do.

Will he? He needs you to figure it out, scaredy cat. You need to Power Up.

Nathan made himself as small as possible, his eyeballs barely above the ledge, and looked down again. The creatures rested back on powerful, thick legs. Their faces glistened with blood and spit and their eyes glowed so red it almost hurt to look at them. Steve looked very dead. His belly gaped open, the cavity an empty, dark hole, all of his guts scattered in a circle around his motionless body. Dark smears of blood stained his pale skin and face and his arms were pulled out from his sides like the Jesus-man statues. Yep—dead.

Nathan felt his stomach turn and thought he might spit up, but he swallowed back the feeling before the other-him voice could make fun of him and tell him to Power Up like a Power Ranger again. The smaller creature gave a look and a sniff in Jenny's direction, but the bigger one smacked him and they grunted at each other. He felt pretty sure that Jenny was okay.

‘Cause they need her for something. She's okay, but just for now.

Nathan looked back down the path to see if maybe Jason was coming up, but he saw nothing but big cave blood puddles. A sudden nasty fart smell filled his nose and he looked back down into the room. The Lizard Men were gone.

Maybe they're looking for you. Did you ever think of that?

Nathan scrambled back down the path in a growing panic. The creatures were nowhere in sight, so he ran as fast as he could to the little passageway he had seen. His bare feet splashed through a couple of blood puddles, but he realized he no longer cared. He just wanted to hide as fast as he could. His feet tingled for a moment after he splashed in the purple goo, but the feeling disappeared quickly.

I think they're looking for me. Where is Jason?

The passageway was little more than a low hole, but Nathan scrambled inside anyway. Instead of being scared of the tight, dark fit, he thought that maybe the Lizard Men would be too big to follow him in and he would be safe. He moved deeper into the small cave. Just past a little turn where the light from the entrance disappeared from sight, he plopped down in the moist dirt and felt a tickle of sweat roll down his back and onto his butt. He tried to slow his breathing, which sounded really, really loud in the little cave.

Nathan leaned his head back and tried to make the far-away sounds louder. He could hear the lady doctor talking, but he didn't understand what she said because it all sounded like doctor words. He also heard a hissing sound over and over and every time he heard it his chest felt kind of full and a little cold. The comforting feel of Jason's hand on his cheek had disappeared and he realized he hadn't heard his voice in awhile.

Why isn't he here?

Just help yourself. You can do it. Try and leave if you can.

Nathan closed his eyes tight and felt warm tears roll down his cheeks. He concentrated as hard as he could on the few sounds he still heard—the lady doctor, a metal sound, and the hissing. He didn't feel anything else and had no other sounds to think on. He wished that he felt Jason's hand on his cheek ‘cause that would probably help. He tried and tried to go to the sounds, to make them louder and more real, but he didn't even feel a little different.

Nothing's happening. I really am stuck here. What if they find me?

His breathing got loud and raspy and a little whimper came out of his throat.

They won't unless you are a scaredy cat. They only want you if you're scared, right?

The other-him voice didn't sound so teasing this time. It sounded more like it tried to help. Nathan did the three slow, deep breaths like Mommy used to make him do when he got too upset to tell her what was wrong. It worked a little, and he felt himself start to shake a lot less and his breathing sounded quieter.

Now just stay still and quiet. Jason will come and even if he doesn't, you will be able to leave very soon. Be a brave, Power Ranger, for a little while more and then you can go back.

That sounded really good. Nathan leaned his head back against the cave wall in the dark and sent one more thought to Jason in his brain.

I'm okay, but please come and get me.