Chapter 13
A Run-in With the Healthcare System
"So where are we going, anyway?" John yelled into the driver window as Eva sped away from her home, life, and friends. The warm wind whipped everyone's hair around, and Eva had to yell for John to hear her from his location in the bed of the truck.
"Those people I told you about live in Bayville, New York. I guess I'm driving there," she said, sounding unsure.
John sighed, saddened that she was being dragged away from everything she knew on his behalf. He hadn't really thought about it when he asked her to come. Hopefully, they could wait this out in New York and then she could go back.
He sat back into the truck bed, fidgeting to get comfortable. He noticed that Billy was leaning against the cab, staring worriedly at Dominic, who was sprawled on the bed's floor, clutching his temple in a clearly painful gesture.
"Whoa, you okay, man?" John asked, nudging Dom's arm.
Dominic flinched away, as if the small poke had hurt him. He looked at John for a second with wild eyes, then nodded "no."
"Shit, what's wrong?" he asked, then realized it was stupid to ask Dominic a question.
"It's that disease he's got," Billy said, his black hair wildly whipping his face. "He gets some kind of medication for it once a month, and he goes downhill fast if he doesn't get it. He was supposed to get it just after we broke out. I don't know what it was, though."
John looked back at Dominic, who had slumped back onto the bed, clutching at his hair again. John leaned up so Eva could hear him through her open window.
"Hey, we gotta pull over. Dominic's… sick," he said.
"We can't stop now, we're still too close to the house. They'll find us. Will he be okay for another few miles?" she yelled, and John turned to Dom for the answer.
He feebly nodded, but John could tell, even if there weren't any words, that it was a lie.
Eva drove for another twenty minutes or so, and John watched as Dominic writhed at every speed bump, every pothole. He was about to say "fuck it, find a hospital," when he recognized the familiar red cross symbolizing that Eva was pulling into a hospital parking lot.
"Good girl," he murmured, and she skidded into a parking spot, turning off the car and jumping out to approach the side of the bed.
"What's wrong with him?" she asked sweetly, scrutinizing Dominic's twisted heap.
"He has this bone disease. He takes a medication for it once a month, but he hasn't gotten it this month," Billy said, helping Dominic painfully out of the bed, where he stumbled and had to be held up by Billy. It was sort of like watching a drunken person, only sadder.
"You know what it's called?" Eva asked as they made their way to the entrance. "The medication, I mean?"
John fidgeted nervously. Three out of four of them were wanted criminals, and they were walking into a hospital, where there would most likely be security or police officers.
"No," Billy replied.
Eva held open the door as Billy carefully helped Dom through them. The foyer was filled with a few people in chairs, and a woman at the front desk. They didn't need to say anything; the woman at the front desk made a gasping sound and ran around her desk to approach them.
"What's wrong?" she asked, looking over Dominic.
"He needs some kind of medication," Billy said, gripping Dominic tighter as the boy slumped a little, making a small moaning noise that John realized was the first sound he'd heard him make. "But I don't know what it's called."
"Oh…kay," the woman said, biting her lip in confusion.
"You know what it is?" John asked, looking at Dominic's pain inflicted and black hair-covered face. "Will you know it if you see it?" Dominic nodded, and grimaced at the motion.
"Alright, we need to see your drug stores," John said to the woman.
"I can't do that," she began, her professional air returning.
John's patience had fizzled out days ago. He raised his hand, flicked his wrist, and ignited a nice intimidating fireball. "Please," he continued, and made sure to make it sound like anything but a suggestion.
The woman's eyes got wide, and she backed away a step. John made a show of intensifying the flames for incentive.
"Right this way," the woman said, never taking her eyes from the flames.
The four of them followed as the woman led them through a series of hallways.
"You didn't have to threaten her," Eva whispered as they approached what looked like a closet. John merely shrugged.
The woman sighed in defeat, and opened the storeroom door. Billy helped Dom inside, where he peered around, examining every bottle closely and reading their contents. He grabbed a bottle labeled Ibandronate with a shaking hand, and held it out to John. John took it, staring at it as if it was some mysterious fifth limb.
"Here," he said, recomposing himself and handing the bottle to the woman, who's nametag read N. Moira Ward, which seemed fitting.
"I can't just…" she began to argue, and he ignited another flame. Needless to say, the talking stopped.
Moira led them to a small room, where she retrieved a sterilized needle and faced Dominic. "You know how much?" the woman asked, voice shaking.
Dominic didn't answer; instead he ripped the syringe from the woman's hand, tipped the bottle upside down, and pulled some of the yellowish liquid into it. Without hesitation, he plunged the needle into his arm at the elbow, emptying its contents into his veins. John cringed, and resisted the horrible urge to gag.
Dominic visibly relaxed, his head rolling back and his eyes closing. He took a deep breath and handed the syringe back to Moira, and she took it, lost on what to do. Dominic then reached forward to where a clipboard with a blank medical form sat on a metal cart, and grabbed the pen clipped to the top. With a lightly trembling hand, he wrote thank you, and handed it to her. She looked utterly appalled, but composed herself quickly.
"He can't speak?" she asked to Billy.
"Doesn't. Can, but doesn't," Billy replied, patting Dominic on the back.
Dominic reached forward, taking the clipboard from Moira again and writing something John didn't have time to read. Her face softened as she read it, and she smiled at Dominic.
Eva elbowed John, pointing to the tiny window in the door. Two police officers were scurrying down the hallway.
"Time to go," John said curtly, grabbing Dominic and pulling him forward as Eva and Billy followed. They pushed through the doors, and the officers skidded to a halt on the tile floor in front of them.
Everyone was still for a moment, staring each other down.
"Let us pass, and nobody gets hurt," John said, igniting a flame again.
Both officers pulled their guns and trained them on John, probably deciding he was a bigger threat. Mistake.
Without warning, a two-foot deep flood of water tore past the four of them without touching them, and took the officers right off their feet. When John looked, he saw Eva supplying the tiny river with everything it needed to keep the officers subdued.
"Let's boogy," she said playfully, and the four of them dashed over the forms of the cops, struggling to get back onto their feet.
When they reached the foyer again, the flood spilled in with them through the doors they barged through. The people in the waiting room yelped and scattered. The four of them made for the front door.
"Wait!" John heard from behind him, and he spun to see Moira, still holding the clipboard. "There are more cop cars out front. Go down this hall," she pointed to a different hallway, "take a left, and then the second right."
John considered if he should trust her or not, but decided quickly as the sirens out front made their way inside. The four of them dashed, John in the lead, past Moira and toward the hallway. He glimpsed the clipboard where Dominic had written, we're not monsters. Just different.