THE GATES OF HELL

CHAPTER 8

The young medic frowned when he saw the empty bed. Quickly, he hurried off to find the nurse on duty. When he found her talking to another patient at the far end of the ward, he signaled for her attention. Excusing herself, Abigail Cole walked over to the irritated medic. "He's gone again." The young man told her

"Not again." Abigail said with a soft sigh. She knew exactly which patient the medic was referring to. "Check outside. You know where to look. If he's there, bring him back in but be gentle, don't spook him. I hate to do it, but we're going to have to restrain him again. He has to stay off that leg or he's gonna end up losing it. Get someone to help you in case he gets agitated…" she ordered "But don't hurt him." She added firmly.

Abigail turned on her heel and walked back to the supply room. She hated to restrain the patient in question but she had no other choice. Until they could get through to him and make him understand that he was safe now and that he had to stay in bed so his leg could heal, this was all she could do. The young man had been brought to the hospital over a week ago along with several other prisoners who had been rescued from a POW camp deep in the jungle. At first he had been passive and docile but then he had become agitated and hard to handle. Even with his severely injured leg, he kept trying to escape every chance he got. They couldn't seem to make him understand that he was safe now and no longer locked in a tiny cage in the middle of the jungle. Usually, he could be found outside somewhere around the building huddled in a corner sleeping.

She found a set of restraints and walked back through the ward. When she reached his bed, the medic and one of the doctors had the young man settled back in bed and sedated for the time being. With the medic's assistance, Abigail fastened the restraints around the young man's wrists and then to the bottom of the bed rails to keep him from escaping again. She also placed a security belt around his waist which she also fastened to the bottom bed rail. Satisfied that he was secured and wouldn't escape again when he woke up, she put three pillows underneath his left leg to keep it elevated. She didn't want to see him lose his leg and that would happen if he didn't stay in bed.

She quickly took his vital signs which were all in normal ranges although his heart rate and blood pressure were both a little on the high side. With his dog tags missing and his present mental status so confused, she didn't even know his name, rank, serial number or the branch of the military that he was a part of. So for now, he was simply listed in their records as John Doe #731. Once they got him cleaned up with a shave and his hair cut, he had turned out to be handsome young man with dark brown curly hair and a natural olive complexion. The only other thing she knew about him was that he had a slight east coast accent. The only reason she knew that was because he talked in his sleep. Being from New Jersey herself, Abigail recognized his dialect.

Assured that he was resting comfortably for now, Abigail hurried away to tend to her other patients leaving the young man's care to the nervous young medic. The medic had only been in Viet Nam for a short time and was already more than ready to go back home. He had seen so many terrible things over here in such a short period of time, so much death and so much pain. So many broken bodies and more than a few broken minds. Like the young man he was tending to now. A young man not that much older than he was who should be back home dating girls and having fun, not fighting in a war that made no sense to anyone.

Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, David could sense the activity going on around him. But he was afraid to believe that he was finally safe. He was terrified that if he let himself believe that then he would open his eyes and discover that it was all a dream, that he was really still in that tiny cage in the jungle waiting to die. Whatever hope he'd had died with Charlie. And he had buried a part of himself in that shallow grave with him in that god forsaken jungle.

Abigail finished her round and grabbed a bite to eat before returning to the ward. As she walked down the aisle, she glanced at each bed as she passed by, automatically checking on the occupant. When she reached the bed of the young man she had tended to earlier, she noticed that his eyes were open. It wasn't the first time he had opened his eyes but it was the first time that she noticed an alertness in those gorgeous sapphire depths that hadn't been there before. She walked to the side of the bed and gently reached down to touch his shoulder. "Hello, soldier." She said with a warm smile "Can you tell me your name?" She held her breath as she waited to see if he would answer her question or not.There was a moment's hesitation and then he said in a husky voice

"Where am I?"

"You're in a field hospital just outside of Saigon. My name's Abigail and I'm a nurse here." She told him, relief washing over her as she realized he had finally come back from the blackness of his own mind. "Now, can you tell me your name, rank and serial number?"

"Private First Class David Starsky. United States Army. Division C. Serial number 433-26-4058." He responded automatically.

"Nice to meet you, Private Starsky. Where are you from?"

"New York originally but I've lived in California since I was thirteen." David told her. He took a deep breath, the simple task of talking exhausting him. He looked at Abigail intently for a moment and then demanded "Why are my hands tied down?"

"Because you kept trying to escape and we can't have that. Your leg needs to stay elevated unless you want to lose it. You got bit by a snake, didn't you? A little yellow and green one?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

"I've seen the bites from that little critter before. They get pretty nasty when they aren't taken care of right away. Just like yours did."

"How bad is it?"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like death warmed over."

"That bad, huh?" David asked with a short laugh that he cut off quickly as his chest tightened painfully making him cough violently.

"I wouldn't do that just yet." Abigail told him "You've got pneumonia in both lungs….that's why your chest hurts so much."

"Anything else I should know?"

"Other than the fact that you're severely dehydrated and you've lost almost thirty pounds….naw, I think that about covers it."

"If I promise to be good and stay in bed, will you untie my hands?" David asked with a ghost of his smile. He hated being strapped down. It still made him feel helpless and afraid, too much like he was still a prisoner.

"I know you don't like being strapped down….especially after what you just went through….but I need to leave the restraints on just a little bit longer….just until I'm sure you're back with us and that you won't try to slip away again. Can you handle that? Just for a little while?"

"How long?" David asked in a tightly controlled voice, struggling to control his fear even though he knew it was irrational.

"Four more hours."
"Will you come back and talk to me once in awhile?" David asked hating the pleading tone he could hear in his voice.

"Of course I will."

"Okay. Four hours." David agreed reluctantly

"If you really can't handle it….I'll take them off before that." Abigail told him with a gentle smile. "Deal?"

"Deal." He told her with a grin.

"Great. I'll be back in a little while….I'll go to the mess tent and see if I can get you something to eat. How does that sound?"

"Great." David told her, his stomach suddenly growling at the thought of some real food. He watched as Abigail walked away and tried to relax in spite of his restraints.

He let his gaze sweep across the room, noting the activity and the noise. Anything to keep his mind off the fact that his hands were tied down.

True to her word, Abigail returned shortly with a tray in her hands. Raising the head of David's bed, she sat the tray on his lap and sat down on the edge of the bed to feed him some Jell-O and chicken broth. Since he hadn't eaten regular food in so long, he could only tolerate a few bites before his stomach cramped violently. He fought back the urge to vomit, breathing slowly until he got the nausea under control. Noting his discomfort, Abigail sat the tray of food aside and gave him a few sips of water.

"It's okay. You'll be eating steak again in no time." She reassured him with a smile. "Right now your stomach just needs a little rest too." She glanced at the restraints around his wrists and said "I think we can go ahead and take these off but I'm going to leave on the belt around your waist." David breathed a deep sigh of relief as she carefully unfastened the restraints from his wrists.

"Thank you." He said in a grateful voice as he rubbed his wrists to restore the circulation to his hands and fingers.

"You're welcome, David." Abigail told him. "Try to get some rest and I'll check back on you in a little bit." Even before she had finished speaking, David's eyes had closed and he had drifted off to sleep.