The manhunt continued. Gabriel checked in each morning. It had been eight days. There’d been no fair queen shootings and no carnival bombings. Both seemed to have gone to ground.
I was still in the hospital and getting restless. The TV was still my most faithful companion. For an hour a day, they let Xavier visit. He’d been released, but was still too banged up to return to work. He’d broken a few ribs, suffered burns, and numerous cuts. Three transfusions had been needed to save his life.
“How’d you know there was a second bomb in the Scrambler?” Xavier asked as he sat uncomfortably in a chair in my sterile room.
“It just made sense. The first bomb herded people towards the exit. The bombing in Palmyra showed that while the Scrambler wasn’t as incredible as blowing up a ride that went in the air, it did serious damage,” I frowned at him. “It was mostly an educated guess.”
“They are going to try waking Lucas up for a while tomorrow.”
“I haven’t really seen him, except on the helicopter. I don’t know how bad it is. I officially live in a bubble.”
“I’ve seen him,” Xavier nodded slowly. “It’s gruesome. Like you, he’s lying on his stomach, there are vertebra exposed in his neck when they take off the dressings. Which reminds me, let me look at you today.”
It was the third time Xavier had checked the wound since returning from the dead. I didn’t move as he gently took off the covering. He made a few grunting noises and I felt the wrap go back on.
“It’s healing,” I said. “It’s starting to itch.”
“It is healing,” Xavier didn’t look as convinced as I felt. “Not as much as I’d like, but it’s healing. You’ll still need a graft.”
“So I’ve been told. Since I’m such a terrible patient, I get my first one this afternoon.”
“That seems a little soon,” Xavier answered.
“I’m ready to get moving and I can’t do that with my back still a gaping wound.” I admitted. “They are putting me under for it.”
“You stayed awake for the removal of your skin, but not the graft?”
“No, something about taking skin from one of the few places I’m not already scarred. It’s going to be very painful.”
“Your butt?” Xavier gave a giggle.
“Laugh it up, but that is exactly where they are taking it from. They want to put me in a temporary coma to give the graft time to take. I’ve been told it is painful and itchy.”
“Most people would already be in a medically induced coma,” Xavier said. “Do you know for how long?”
“A handful of days,” I answered. “I’m a little...” I didn’t finish the thought. Sometimes, I worried that I’d be put under for a procedure and never wake back up. It wasn’t death that bothered me, it was the idea that my family and my friends would mourn for me. I didn’t want to make them sad.
“You’ll get the best sleep of your life,” Xavier reassured me. “I tried to sneak you in real food, but the nurse caught me.”
This made me laugh. I’d lost weight in the hospital and I knew it. My regulated diet was even more regulated here and gruel seemed to be their favorite thing to feed me. Unfortunately, I didn’t like whatever the crap really was, so I usually drank my milk and my soda, while picking at the side dishes. Some meals I got a cookie. Those were my favorite days.
“So, you go into a coma today and Lucas will be woken up from one.”
“Pretty much,” I answered. “Do me favor, Xavier. If Lucas wakes up and is capable of having a conversation and not just screaming in pain, don’t tell him about me. Tell him I’m fine, but in my own room. He knows I got burnt. I don’t want him to worry about it though while he’s recovering.”
“No problem,” Xavier said. “Do you want me to have Gabriel or Malachi come see you before you go in?”
“No,” I answered. “They have more important things to deal with. Like tracking down our bomber and bashing his skull in.”
“I don’t think that’s on their agenda.” Xavier pursed his lips. “Well, the bashing his skull in part. They intend to find the killer.”
“If Malachi is alone and finds him,” I looked at Xavier, hoping he’d read my face.
“Gotcha, don’t let Malachi find him alone,” Xavier said.
“When I wake up in a few days, bring me a cookie and a big, greasy cheeseburger with bacon, onions, mushrooms, lettuce, and mayo and if you can scrounge up some onion rings or fried cheese sticks, that would be awesome. If you can’t, try to find homemade potato chips.”
“You never eat that crap.”
“Once in a while, we all have to indulge. If I make it through the skin graft, I figure I’m entitled to go off my crappy migraine diet for a day, maybe two. Also, find me a two-liter of Coca-Cola and smuggle it in.”
“I have to change clothes to come in here,” Xavier gave me a look. “There is no place for me to hide a two-liter of anything.”
“So, I guess my computer or my phone or some other gaming device is also out?”
“Pretty much,” Xavier stood up. He kissed my cheek. It was becoming a habit that wasn’t totally unwelcome.
Frances came in after Xavier left. She tidied everything up and sat down in the chair he had vacated.
“What’s up?” I asked her.
“I couldn’t help but overhear and for an awake patient, you have been stellar,” Frances told me. “After your graft, if everything goes well, when you wake up, I’ll make sure you get your phone back and I doubt we can get you a full, unhealthy meal in here, but I’ll see what I can do about the cheeseburger. You might be out of luck on everything else.” She reached into her sterile gown and pulled out a can.
I took the Coca-Cola from her and stared at it for a moment. My fingers had all the feeling in them. I couldn’t open it. She must have read my face because she reached over and opened it for me.
“Thank you,” I said as she slipped a straw into it.
“You’re welcome,” she answered. “I made sure they were both sterilized before bringing them in.”
“Do you have any awake patients?” I asked her.
“In your condition?” She paused. “No. I have a few better off than you that are awake. Most though, well, it’s easier on the body if it sleeps through the entire process with burns like these.”
“This bomber probably filled up your burn unit,” I sighed.
“He did,” she also sighed. “Having you as a patient has helped though. A strong woman with second degree burns on ninety percent of her back that never seems to want anything except a soda and a cigarette is pretty incredible. It gives me hope for the rest of the patients, like your partner, Lucas.”
“I’ll be under when they wake him, won’t I?”
“Yes, I’ll leave you a note though so that when you wake up, you can find out how he did.”
“Thanks,” I said to her.
“Do you want me to stay until they come for you?”
“No, I’m good Frances. With a little luck, you’ll be on duty when they wake me. When I get healthy, you’re going to want my ass out of this hospital so fast.”
“I was warned,” Frances winked at me. “I was told by your supervisor that if you started giving me trouble to just up your morphine.”
“I believe that,” I smiled at her. She left me alone in the room. I turned off the TV and tried to get comfortable on my stomach. I stared at the wall, wondering what everyone was doing. I could imagine my mom with the grandkids, quietly checking her phone repeatedly for news of my condition. Nyleena in front of a judge, giving her closing arguments, hoping that when she had a few minutes, her text messages told her that everything was going fine.
Perhaps it was a dose of needed humanity for me. The bombing had made me realize just how many people cared about me. It was still only a dozen or so, but that was a dozen or so people that I had touched in some way. That same dozen had touched me as well. The same people waiting on text messages and phone calls about me were the same people I considered sacred. If they were hurt, I’d gladly track down the person that hurt them. I’d do it with zeal and extreme prejudice.
I had stopped thinking of the darkness as a monster. It wasn’t. It was me. It was as much a part of me as my arm or my kidney. I could control it or let it loose. Malachi was right; the world needed me to be the person I was. That was a truth I could live with. The admittance that I enjoyed the kill when it was necessary was also something I’d had a lot of time to think about. Saying I had made peace with it would be incorrect. I could admit it to myself. I could admit it to Lucas, Xavier and Malachi, maybe one day, Gabriel. But that was it. It was information my mother and Nyleena never needed to know. As long as I controlled that pleasure like I controlled everything else in my life, it wouldn’t be a problem.
The door opened. It was time to go to sleep.