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*-*-*-*-* Anthony looked around the waiting room at the six sleeping people. He couldn't understand how they could sleep on the hard, lumpy furniture that was in the waiting room. He needed a cigarette badly. He hadn't had one in hours and it was starting to get to him. Before he took the elevator to the lobby he went to the small window behind which a nurse sat. He handed her a note, "Dylan Sanders? Is there any change?"
The nurse smiled at him. "None that I know of, sir."
He took the elevator to the lobby and went into the smoking area. There were several men standing around in the foliage filled area talking about what they should name their babies. Anthony pulled out the sleek silver cigarette case he carried and removed a smoke. He lit it and inhaled deeply. "Your wife in labor too?" one of the young fathers asked him. He shook his head "no." "Mine is about to have twins. She has been in labor six hours now. SIX."
"That is nothing," said another man, "last baby we had my wife had eighteen hours of labor." Anthony was having a hard time believing that these men would stand around smoking bragging about whose wife was in more pain. Just then two people entering the hospital and approaching admissions caught his eye, Gloria Matthews. The man who was with her he couldn't place although there was something familiar about him. He ground the cigarette out in the ashcan and moved to a discrete distance where they could be heard and he could not be seen.
"Excuse me," said Gloria sweetly to the woman at the admissions desk. "A friend of mine was brought in here a few evenings ago, Dylan Sanders. I was wondering if you could tell me how she is doing and if I could see her?"
"I am sorry ma'am I can only release information on her status to family. All I can tell you is she is in ICU," said the old woman with blue hair, her bifocals perched on the tip of her nose, seated behind the desk.
"Of course," said Gloria trying to think of another way to get upstairs.
"I'm her brother," said Clarke.
"I highly doubt that," said the admissions clerk in a no nonsense way. "I have been informed that Ms. Sanders has no family and not to disclose ANY information about her. Now," she continued with a kinder tone, "I know that you are concerned about your friend but due to her condition no information is being released on her status."
"Come Glory, let's get breakfast and plan better," Clarke whispered in her ear. "See you can't do this without a good plan and I have an idea. We should discuss it over an egg McMuffin." Clarke although his tone was sweet he grabbed her arm roughly and led her towards the door. As they turned Anthony realized who the large man with her was. He would know that nose anywhere; he had fought the man at the Chief's. He could only wonder what "the vulture" had to do with Gloria Matthews.
He headed back up to the ICU unit. In the elevator he wrote furiously trying to anticipate the questions the angels would ask and have the answers written to them. The elevator came to a stop on the fourth floor and exited only to see Dr. Johnson speaking with the angels. He hesitated in approaching them, but Natalie saw him and waved him over.
"Now you are all here," said Dr. Johnson as Anthony approached. The doctor opened the folder that was tucked under his arm. "I am happy to tell you that the preliminary tests on what was given to me last night seem to show that will destroy the virus. I guess I should thank you," he said looking at Anthony.
"When will it be given to her?" asked Alex.
"I was just about to do it. I know I said preliminary but I don't think we should wait. Surprisingly after that the cardiac arrest last night she has held her ground I would say her chances once the vaccine is in her system are excellent, but if we wait she may have more complications. As soon she is doing better we will run tests to make sure none of her systems were permanently affected by the virus. "Now," he said closing the folder, "I can let one of you go with me. Who will it be?"
To the Thin Man's surprise Alex turned around and said, "Anthony, do you want to go?" He looked at her unbelieving then nodded. "I guess that is settled," said Alex, "Anthony is going."
He followed the doctor down the hall. "I don't know who made the vaccine but according to my friend at the university the person was a genius. The solution was obvious but they didn't see it, and those guys are the best." The doctor opened the door to the room and ushered Anthony inside. He hadn't seen Dylan since the theater and was surprised at her condition now. She had deteriorated to a shadow of her former self within the last thirty hours. He could hear her steady breathing and reached out and touched her matted hair. Even in its disheveled state it was tempting to pull but he only stroked it.
"She can hear you. Maybe if you talk to her she will respond. She isn't as bad off as last night but far from healthy, yet," said the doctor not realizing that he didn't speak. "Great," he said as the hypodermic needle dropped to the floor. "I'll be back in a minute. I need to get another needle." Dr. Johnson left the room shutting the door behind him.
Anthony sat on the chair next to Dylan's bed moving it nearer so he could be closer to her. He picked up her hand and lightly pressed his lips to it. Her skin was warm and dry. "Dylan," he whispered his voice tinged with a slight accent. He wanted to say more, but wasn't quite sure what. He tried to recall the comforting words of the nuns but none of them seemed appropriate or to what he wanted to express. She moaned softly. "Dylan, it will be okay."
Someone was talking to her. Someone was telling her it would be okay. "It's not okay. He is dead. Seamus stabbed him. He fell off the roof," said Dylan's feverish mind.
The doctor came in with his new needle. "Back. Well cross your fingers," he said to Anthony and then drew some of the vaccine out of the bottle. He rolled up the sleeve on her already battered arm and injected it into the muscle. "Now we have to wait and see. If you want to stay with her you can. I have a few other patients to check on."
*-*-*-*-*
They sat in the McDonald's around the corner from the hospital and ate in silence. Finally Gloria spoke, "So what do you suggest?"
"I show my badge, that little laminated card helps me anywhere I want to be, sort of like a Visa. You my dear would look cute as a nurse. I got a look at a few while you were charming your way past reception, "he said sarcastically. "Just need a white skirt, comfy white shoes, and a pink scrub top
"Nice I can find the skirt, or pants and shoes just about anywhere but where am I going to get a scrub top?" she asked him.
"My dear that isn't difficult, the parking garage," he said simply
Matthews looked confused for a moment, "The parking garage? The parking garage." With that she chewed her last bite of muffin and swallowed the bitter black coffee and they left.
*-*-*-*-* Dylan's eyelids fluttered the opened. She looked at the ceiling not knowing where she was. Her throat ached and her muscles were sore. She felt slimy and in need of a bath, and someone was holding her hand. She turned her head and saw an elegant profile with a sharp nose and a mass of black hair asleep, his head resting on her bed. "Anthony," she thought. She reached out and softly touched his hair.
He sat up with a start. "I guess you're a light sleeper," she said to him with a smile. Anthony had the same surprised look on his face as he did after she had played with the lock of his hair on the rooftop. He started to say something when the door to the room opened. A young blonde nurse came in and checked on Dylan. "Hi," she said smiling flirtatiously at Anthony. "I'm here to take her temperature."
Dylan glared at the nurse for speaking as if she wasn't there and for smiling like that at Anthony. Then she reprimanded herself silently for thinking that way, "What are you doing Dylan, you have no claim on him." The nurse leaned over the bed making sure her rear stuck out so Anthony could get a good look as she placed the thermometer in Dylan's ear. "It looks good. She is down to 101." She marked it in Dylan's chart. "That is the lowest she has been since she arrived. I'd say that vaccine they found is working."
"Thanks for telling me," said Dylan. The nurse just looked at her and wiggled out of the room. "Don't let the door hit you on your way out," she mumbled to the nurse as she watched her leave. "I hate it when people act like I am not in the room. What happened to me?"
He so wanted to speak, to tell her everything she wanted to know, he was just very shy about it. When he was a child he stuttered badly and the other children of the circus families made fun of him. His parents had managed to save enough for a few speech therapy sessions. Although they couldn't afford to send him more than three times or so his mother had made sure he practiced the exercises that he had been given. Even after they had died he continued practicing in private and though the stutter was gone, he remained too timid to speak out loud. Soon he had realized the power that not speaking gave him. Now he wished that the fear would leave him. He didn't think she would laugh but for now he wasn't completely comfortable with the idea. He pulled out his pad and wrote, "You were infected by the virus meant for Getty."
"I thought it was deadly. Why aren't I dead?"
Once again they were interrupted, this time by Dr. Johnson and Dylan's friends. Anthony realized with a start that he had been so worried about the angel he had forgotten about Matthews and "the Vulture".
"Dylan!" squealed Natalie and Alex. They each threw their arms around her. "You are all right," said Natalie. Anthony got up and moved carefully to the back of the crowd and left the room.
"I won't be much longer if you two don't stop suffocating me," said Dylan playfully.
Their attention was called by someone clearing their throat, "Ladies, if I can get in to see my patient I would very much appreciate it." He took out his stethoscope and listened to her heart and lungs. He checked her reflexes, eyes, ears, nose and throat. "It's unbelievable. An hour ago you were at death's door but now, you look."
"She looks fabulous," said Alex happily.
"As soon as I take some blood I think we can move you into a regular room. If the blood work comes back negative then you are free to leave."
"That's great," said Dylan beaming. Then she looked at her bruised arms, "Do you think you can find a decent vein? I look like a drug addict."
"The bruising will go away with time," said Dr. Johnson as he prepared the needle. "Just try to relax. If you tense up the blood won't flow." Dylan closed her eyes tightly as the needle penetrated her skin. Slowly she opened them looking around for Anthony but he wasn't there.
*-*-*-*-*
The two rogue FBI agents pulled back into the parking garage in the rental car. Clarke gave Gloria a wicked smile, reached into the backseat and handed her the plastic Wal-Mart bag containing one deflated beach ball and a shirt. "Blow it baby," he said raising and lowering his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
Gloria hit him on the arm and blew up the red and yellow striped ball. She then removed her blouse and pulled the shirt which had the yellow diamond shape screen printed to the front which read, "Baby on Board", like the car signs. Stuffing the beach ball under the top she climbed out of the car. "So how do I look?"
"Like a cow," Clarke said cruelly.
Matthews scowled at him and said, "Some father you'd be."
"Oh looky here comes one of the pink brigade. Start moaning." Gloria gave it all she had. She held her stomach and breathed as though she was doing Lamaze. It wasn't long before the nurse; the same one who took Dylan's temperature earlier came over to assist them.
"Do you need help?" asked the nurse trying to see them clearly in the dim parking garage lights.
"My wife.she is in labor," said Clarke sounding all the nervous father. "I don't know what to do. Where to go." The nurse came closer to assist. Once she was in range Clarke whacked her in the back of the head with the butt of his service revolver. "She will be out for awhile. Take the top, change and let's go."
*-*-*-*-* Anthony looked around the waiting room at the six sleeping people. He couldn't understand how they could sleep on the hard, lumpy furniture that was in the waiting room. He needed a cigarette badly. He hadn't had one in hours and it was starting to get to him. Before he took the elevator to the lobby he went to the small window behind which a nurse sat. He handed her a note, "Dylan Sanders? Is there any change?"
The nurse smiled at him. "None that I know of, sir."
He took the elevator to the lobby and went into the smoking area. There were several men standing around in the foliage filled area talking about what they should name their babies. Anthony pulled out the sleek silver cigarette case he carried and removed a smoke. He lit it and inhaled deeply. "Your wife in labor too?" one of the young fathers asked him. He shook his head "no." "Mine is about to have twins. She has been in labor six hours now. SIX."
"That is nothing," said another man, "last baby we had my wife had eighteen hours of labor." Anthony was having a hard time believing that these men would stand around smoking bragging about whose wife was in more pain. Just then two people entering the hospital and approaching admissions caught his eye, Gloria Matthews. The man who was with her he couldn't place although there was something familiar about him. He ground the cigarette out in the ashcan and moved to a discrete distance where they could be heard and he could not be seen.
"Excuse me," said Gloria sweetly to the woman at the admissions desk. "A friend of mine was brought in here a few evenings ago, Dylan Sanders. I was wondering if you could tell me how she is doing and if I could see her?"
"I am sorry ma'am I can only release information on her status to family. All I can tell you is she is in ICU," said the old woman with blue hair, her bifocals perched on the tip of her nose, seated behind the desk.
"Of course," said Gloria trying to think of another way to get upstairs.
"I'm her brother," said Clarke.
"I highly doubt that," said the admissions clerk in a no nonsense way. "I have been informed that Ms. Sanders has no family and not to disclose ANY information about her. Now," she continued with a kinder tone, "I know that you are concerned about your friend but due to her condition no information is being released on her status."
"Come Glory, let's get breakfast and plan better," Clarke whispered in her ear. "See you can't do this without a good plan and I have an idea. We should discuss it over an egg McMuffin." Clarke although his tone was sweet he grabbed her arm roughly and led her towards the door. As they turned Anthony realized who the large man with her was. He would know that nose anywhere; he had fought the man at the Chief's. He could only wonder what "the vulture" had to do with Gloria Matthews.
He headed back up to the ICU unit. In the elevator he wrote furiously trying to anticipate the questions the angels would ask and have the answers written to them. The elevator came to a stop on the fourth floor and exited only to see Dr. Johnson speaking with the angels. He hesitated in approaching them, but Natalie saw him and waved him over.
"Now you are all here," said Dr. Johnson as Anthony approached. The doctor opened the folder that was tucked under his arm. "I am happy to tell you that the preliminary tests on what was given to me last night seem to show that will destroy the virus. I guess I should thank you," he said looking at Anthony.
"When will it be given to her?" asked Alex.
"I was just about to do it. I know I said preliminary but I don't think we should wait. Surprisingly after that the cardiac arrest last night she has held her ground I would say her chances once the vaccine is in her system are excellent, but if we wait she may have more complications. As soon she is doing better we will run tests to make sure none of her systems were permanently affected by the virus. "Now," he said closing the folder, "I can let one of you go with me. Who will it be?"
To the Thin Man's surprise Alex turned around and said, "Anthony, do you want to go?" He looked at her unbelieving then nodded. "I guess that is settled," said Alex, "Anthony is going."
He followed the doctor down the hall. "I don't know who made the vaccine but according to my friend at the university the person was a genius. The solution was obvious but they didn't see it, and those guys are the best." The doctor opened the door to the room and ushered Anthony inside. He hadn't seen Dylan since the theater and was surprised at her condition now. She had deteriorated to a shadow of her former self within the last thirty hours. He could hear her steady breathing and reached out and touched her matted hair. Even in its disheveled state it was tempting to pull but he only stroked it.
"She can hear you. Maybe if you talk to her she will respond. She isn't as bad off as last night but far from healthy, yet," said the doctor not realizing that he didn't speak. "Great," he said as the hypodermic needle dropped to the floor. "I'll be back in a minute. I need to get another needle." Dr. Johnson left the room shutting the door behind him.
Anthony sat on the chair next to Dylan's bed moving it nearer so he could be closer to her. He picked up her hand and lightly pressed his lips to it. Her skin was warm and dry. "Dylan," he whispered his voice tinged with a slight accent. He wanted to say more, but wasn't quite sure what. He tried to recall the comforting words of the nuns but none of them seemed appropriate or to what he wanted to express. She moaned softly. "Dylan, it will be okay."
Someone was talking to her. Someone was telling her it would be okay. "It's not okay. He is dead. Seamus stabbed him. He fell off the roof," said Dylan's feverish mind.
The doctor came in with his new needle. "Back. Well cross your fingers," he said to Anthony and then drew some of the vaccine out of the bottle. He rolled up the sleeve on her already battered arm and injected it into the muscle. "Now we have to wait and see. If you want to stay with her you can. I have a few other patients to check on."
*-*-*-*-*
They sat in the McDonald's around the corner from the hospital and ate in silence. Finally Gloria spoke, "So what do you suggest?"
"I show my badge, that little laminated card helps me anywhere I want to be, sort of like a Visa. You my dear would look cute as a nurse. I got a look at a few while you were charming your way past reception, "he said sarcastically. "Just need a white skirt, comfy white shoes, and a pink scrub top
"Nice I can find the skirt, or pants and shoes just about anywhere but where am I going to get a scrub top?" she asked him.
"My dear that isn't difficult, the parking garage," he said simply
Matthews looked confused for a moment, "The parking garage? The parking garage." With that she chewed her last bite of muffin and swallowed the bitter black coffee and they left.
*-*-*-*-* Dylan's eyelids fluttered the opened. She looked at the ceiling not knowing where she was. Her throat ached and her muscles were sore. She felt slimy and in need of a bath, and someone was holding her hand. She turned her head and saw an elegant profile with a sharp nose and a mass of black hair asleep, his head resting on her bed. "Anthony," she thought. She reached out and softly touched his hair.
He sat up with a start. "I guess you're a light sleeper," she said to him with a smile. Anthony had the same surprised look on his face as he did after she had played with the lock of his hair on the rooftop. He started to say something when the door to the room opened. A young blonde nurse came in and checked on Dylan. "Hi," she said smiling flirtatiously at Anthony. "I'm here to take her temperature."
Dylan glared at the nurse for speaking as if she wasn't there and for smiling like that at Anthony. Then she reprimanded herself silently for thinking that way, "What are you doing Dylan, you have no claim on him." The nurse leaned over the bed making sure her rear stuck out so Anthony could get a good look as she placed the thermometer in Dylan's ear. "It looks good. She is down to 101." She marked it in Dylan's chart. "That is the lowest she has been since she arrived. I'd say that vaccine they found is working."
"Thanks for telling me," said Dylan. The nurse just looked at her and wiggled out of the room. "Don't let the door hit you on your way out," she mumbled to the nurse as she watched her leave. "I hate it when people act like I am not in the room. What happened to me?"
He so wanted to speak, to tell her everything she wanted to know, he was just very shy about it. When he was a child he stuttered badly and the other children of the circus families made fun of him. His parents had managed to save enough for a few speech therapy sessions. Although they couldn't afford to send him more than three times or so his mother had made sure he practiced the exercises that he had been given. Even after they had died he continued practicing in private and though the stutter was gone, he remained too timid to speak out loud. Soon he had realized the power that not speaking gave him. Now he wished that the fear would leave him. He didn't think she would laugh but for now he wasn't completely comfortable with the idea. He pulled out his pad and wrote, "You were infected by the virus meant for Getty."
"I thought it was deadly. Why aren't I dead?"
Once again they were interrupted, this time by Dr. Johnson and Dylan's friends. Anthony realized with a start that he had been so worried about the angel he had forgotten about Matthews and "the Vulture".
"Dylan!" squealed Natalie and Alex. They each threw their arms around her. "You are all right," said Natalie. Anthony got up and moved carefully to the back of the crowd and left the room.
"I won't be much longer if you two don't stop suffocating me," said Dylan playfully.
Their attention was called by someone clearing their throat, "Ladies, if I can get in to see my patient I would very much appreciate it." He took out his stethoscope and listened to her heart and lungs. He checked her reflexes, eyes, ears, nose and throat. "It's unbelievable. An hour ago you were at death's door but now, you look."
"She looks fabulous," said Alex happily.
"As soon as I take some blood I think we can move you into a regular room. If the blood work comes back negative then you are free to leave."
"That's great," said Dylan beaming. Then she looked at her bruised arms, "Do you think you can find a decent vein? I look like a drug addict."
"The bruising will go away with time," said Dr. Johnson as he prepared the needle. "Just try to relax. If you tense up the blood won't flow." Dylan closed her eyes tightly as the needle penetrated her skin. Slowly she opened them looking around for Anthony but he wasn't there.
*-*-*-*-*
The two rogue FBI agents pulled back into the parking garage in the rental car. Clarke gave Gloria a wicked smile, reached into the backseat and handed her the plastic Wal-Mart bag containing one deflated beach ball and a shirt. "Blow it baby," he said raising and lowering his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
Gloria hit him on the arm and blew up the red and yellow striped ball. She then removed her blouse and pulled the shirt which had the yellow diamond shape screen printed to the front which read, "Baby on Board", like the car signs. Stuffing the beach ball under the top she climbed out of the car. "So how do I look?"
"Like a cow," Clarke said cruelly.
Matthews scowled at him and said, "Some father you'd be."
"Oh looky here comes one of the pink brigade. Start moaning." Gloria gave it all she had. She held her stomach and breathed as though she was doing Lamaze. It wasn't long before the nurse; the same one who took Dylan's temperature earlier came over to assist them.
"Do you need help?" asked the nurse trying to see them clearly in the dim parking garage lights.
"My wife.she is in labor," said Clarke sounding all the nervous father. "I don't know what to do. Where to go." The nurse came closer to assist. Once she was in range Clarke whacked her in the back of the head with the butt of his service revolver. "She will be out for awhile. Take the top, change and let's go."