I’m exhausted. Too tired to open my eyes or even move. I try to take in as much as I can using my other senses.
I’m covered by warm blankets. A nice warm cocoon, but I feel something irritating my chest. Multiple somethings. My hand drags across my body as I try to feel for whatever it is. Something cold and plastic. I feel other strings of plastic running under a thin piece of fabric that covers my body, taped to various places on my chest. I have a tube running along my face and into my nose, but the air I’m breathing seems clear, fresh. A beep chimes with each breath.
My hand slinks back down to my side, and I hear someone’s voice. I can’t make out what they say, who it is, or even if it’s a man or a woman.
Slowly, I open my eyes and look around. There’s a lamp on the opposite wall offering soft light, but most of the room is still dark. I’m in a hospital bed, which clarifies the beeping and the various cords on me.
My right arm is wrapped in a thick layer of gauze. I can’t quite move it, but I still feel a tingling running up and down it.
How did I end up here? I can’t even remember what day it is. Panic sets in.
I was at work. Worried about Emma up in Marble’s office and then . . .
My assessment is cut short when I hear clicking heels coming down the hall. My eyes shift—I’m still too tired to move my head—and I see Emma enter with another woman.
“Mr. Pierce,” the woman starts. She’s wearing a white lab coat and what looks like black scrubs underneath. She’s holding a clipboard with a page flipped over the top and the end of it pressed against her stomach. “Can you hear me, Mr. Pierce?” She leans down and lays a hand on my good arm.
I search for my voice, unsure of how it will sound or if I even have the energy for it. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out at first. Eventually a croak escapes. It’s not my voice, that’s for sure.
The woman’s skin stretches as she smiles. She pats my arm and I’m suddenly hot—embarrassed to be in such a state in front of such a classy woman.
“Are you feeling any pain?”
“Tired,” I manage to say in my damaged voice. At least it’s clearer this time.
She nods and smiles again. “You should get some more rest. It’s been a rough few days. You need to rebuild your strength. Sleep.”
I close my eyes and wonder what she meant by “few days.” Surely I haven’t been here that long, have I? Why am I here in the first place? What happened in that office?
When I wake again, I feel much more energized. The cords on my chest are gone, and the gauze on my arm has been replaced with a smaller wrap. My fingers are still tingling, but it’s not as strong as it was the last time I was awake. Whenever that was.
“Ethan.” I hear a familiar voice—my brother’s. Cale.
I look toward the sound of his voice. It takes a moment for my eyes to focus on his face.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I say. I sound more like myself, but it’s still not my regular voice. It’s my early-morning, just-woke-up voice.
He squeezes my shoulder, and I reach up and place my hand on his.
“You scared the shit out of us, man,” he says.
I finally notice Myra. She stands beside Cale and takes my hand while hooking her arm around him. Her dark complexion is flawless. Her naturally curly hair frames her face. She always smells like coconut—likely a result of the mousse that’s required to tame her mass of curls.
She’s Councilman Frank Lloyd’s assistant, so she’s always in professional attire for her job at city hall. Her heart is invested in the city and everyone she meets.
Myra squeezes my hand. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
“What happened?”
Cale looks confused. “You don’t remember?”
“Not really.”
“You were electrocuted,” Myra says. “Emma found you in your office. I guess you were plugging something in when the antenna on top of the building was struck.”
Pieces of my memory begin to come back. Writing out the Post-it. Playing solitaire. Fumbling with the cord. “Oh. Yeah, that’s right.”
“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week now,” Cale continues. “They were afraid of what kind of damage had been done. Judging from the stupid look on your face, I’m guessing brain damage.” He grins.
Myra rolls her eyes and swats his arm. “Don’t listen to him. Dr. Fletcher says you’re doing great.”
“I brought your mail.” Cale hands me a small stack of envelopes. “It’s been piling up on the counter, and I figured it’d give you something to do while you’re here.”
The stack is full of cards from relatives and coworkers. I wonder how many of them have come in to see me while I was out. The one that stands out is from Tranidek Energy. My address is handwritten so I open it first.
Mr. Ethan Pierce,
It’s hard to miss the headlines detailing your accident. As someone who has worked with energy his whole life, I can attest how lucky you are. Throughout my career I’ve lost a number of friends in accidents similar to yours. On behalf of all of us here at Tranidek Energy, we wish you a speedy recovery.
You must be wondering why someone from a competing company to your employer is writing to you. When I read about a fellow Olympian subjected to that much electricity who lived, well, I just had to reach out to him. Upon further research, I’ve uncovered parts of your work experience and I’m very impressed.
Once you’re well and rested, I’d love to speak to you in person about your future. To aid in your focus on recovery, I would like to offer for Tranidek Energy to pay all of your medical bills for your time in the hospital.
Your story is remarkable, and I’d love to have Tranidek be a part of it.
Frank Rizzoli
President and CEO of Tranidek Energy
My mouth hangs open when I finish reading.
“What?” Cale asks, snatching the letter from me. Myra reads over his shoulder, and I watch as their eyes grow as they read.
“Ethan, this is huge!” Myra beams.
“How the hell did they get our address?”
I shrug. “Maybe from Wyatt? I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”
“What do you mean?” Cale asks incredulously. “Ethan, they’re paying all of your medical bills. Give them anything they want!”
“Yeah, but I work for their competitor. And they want to talk about my future? There’s gotta be strings attached.”
“Sounds like they might want to offer you a job,” Myra says.
I’m not sure I want to leave Wyatt. Sure, my job isn’t the most exciting, but I like it. I’ve been there long enough that I’ve grown comfortable. Plus, I get to see Emma. I’m content. Besides, would Tranidek be able to match what I’m making now?
I look up and spot my parents walking in. Mom gives me a tight hug that lasts a few minutes. When she pulls away, she wipes at her eyes. Dad squeezes my shoulder.
“Glad to see you’re awake. How do you feel?” he asks.
“Tired, but otherwise okay.” I hand them the letter. “I got this in the mail.”
They both skim through it.
My mother, always the skeptic, says, “I don’t know . . . “
“I’d talk to them first before you accept any money from them,” Dad says.
“Yeah, I will.” Whenever I get out of here.
“How’re the doctors and everyone treating you?” Mom asks. “We have nice one out by us that you might want to transfer to. It’s probably cheaper and—”
“Mom, this is the closest one to where I live,” I say. The First Olympian Medical Center is right downtown, only a few blocks from work.
“Besides, this is the city’s top-rated hospital,” Myra adds.
“That one by you guys is such a joke of a hospital anyway,” Cale says. “You hear horror stories all the time!”
“Well, maybe after you’re released you can come stay with us for a bit,” Mom insists.
“I’ll be fine.”
“But you’re going to need help getting around.”
“What about me?” Cale asks.
Mom waves a hand dismissively. “You’re always working.”
Dad puts his arm around her. “They’ll figure it out. And we’re not that far.”
Mom lets out a deep breath but doesn’t say anymore.
“Cale and I both think that you’re getting the best service here. Your doctor is one of the top recommended in Olympia,” Myra says.
“Doesn’t hurt that’s she’s smoking hot, either.” Cale raises his eyebrows.
“Cale!” Mom shouts.
“Mr. Pierce,” the woman with the white lab coat enters again. “I’m assuming by the smile on your face that you’re feeling much better?”
I nod slowly, happy that I’m not as exhausted as I was before.
“Good. We want to run a few more tests, but I’m hoping to get you sitting up and maybe even eating before the day is over,” she says. “Your vitals all seem to have leveled out. We’ll monitor you to determine what our next steps will be for your recovery.”
“How much longer do you think I’ll be here?” I notice her name tag says Dr. Alex Fletcher. My brother was right. She’s beautiful.
“That depends on how much effort you put into your recovery. I’m going to bring in a physical therapist tomorrow to see how well you do on your feet. From there we’ll determine when you can go home,” she says. “Get some rest. I’ll be in a little later to check on you.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Myra adds as Dr. Fletcher leaves.
The next morning is possibly one of the most humbling days of my life. Sponge bath (they’re afraid I won’t be able to stand long enough in the shower), more poking and prodding, and finally, removing the catheter—once I was deemed okay enough to walk to the toilet to pee. I still need to sit once I’m there. Standing privileges come for those who don’t need a walker to get around.
With all that went on today, I’m exhausted by the time Emma stops in after work.
“Are you okay?” she asks, noting how defeated I look.
“I’m fine. Just a long day.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“No!” I blurt. “I need to talk to someone who isn’t here just to invade my personal space.”
She laughs and I do too.
“Cale told me you were awake. Sorry I didn’t stop in yesterday. By the time I got out of work, it was past the visiting hours. He said that your parents were here, though. That’s good.”
“Yeah. They want me to transfer out to New Haven, but that’s not going to happen.”
“Then I’d really never see you! I’ve been making sure someone was here every day so you wouldn’t be alone.”
I grin. “Thanks, Emma.”
She grasps my hand but pulls away quickly. “You shocked me!”
I raise an eyebrow. “It’s too soon for shocking jokes. I’m still laid up.”
She reaches for my hand again but stops before she touches me. “They took off your bandages.”
I look down at my right arm. I’m sporting new body art: a dark red line reaches from my fingertips up my arm, with several smaller lines branching off in different directions.
“Pretty cool, huh? It was a minor burn from the strike. It’s still a little tender, but otherwise it’s fine.”
“Will that heal?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“At least you get a badass battle scar from this whole thing,” she says. Her fingers graze the mark. “Your own lightning bolt to remember all of this.”
“Apparently Tranidek Energy wants to pay for my medical bills.”
“Really? That’s odd.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean, you’re already all over the news as it is. I wonder why Tranidek stepped in.”
“It sounds like they might want to hire me.”
She grins. “But you have a job.”
“Yeah. Hopefully I don’t have any issues with the time I’m taking off, though.”
She shakes her head. “You won’t.”
“So . . . I’m on the news?”
“Oh yeah. It’s not every day someone is struck down by lighting indoors.” She shakes her head and chuckles. “You won’t let anyone one-up you, will you?”
“Guess not.” We’re quiet for a minute, and then I remember why I worked so late at the office to begin with. “Hey, what ever happened at that meeting with Marble?”
“Oh. That.” She reaches back and runs her fingers through her blonde hair, swinging some of it around on her shoulder.
“Did he fire you?” I pull up the blankets and pretend to step out—knowing full well that I’d be on my face in a minute after the day I’ve had. “I’m gonna go kick someone’s ass!”
She puts her hands up to stop me. “No! He didn’t fire me.” She tries to help me back into bed, but I’m already settled. The IV hooked into my arm wouldn’t have let me go anywhere anyway.
“Good, ‘cause I would’ve told them I’m not coming in until you’re back at IT tech support with the best of us.” She doesn’t smile, and my expression changes. “What happened, Em?”
“I’m not at IT tech support anymore.”