Exsanguinate (9 page)

A
micula signed
into the ExsanguiNation portal with her avatar and wrote on a piece of virtual parchment paper. Before sealing the parchment with the crimson wax, Amicula re-read her letter to her aunt, the Queen, one last time to ensure she left out no detail.

As Amicula’s avatar folded the virtual paper and dribbled hot wax onto the edge to seal it, she recalled the respect Khaldon held for Lord Stovall during the meeting.

Amicula remembered the way Khaldon once respected her. Once held her so long ago. Once loved her. Her thoughts relished the words on her tongue.
One day ... one day soon. Khaldon will revere me in the same manner as he did before. When I am Queen of the Vampyre Nation.

Amicula hit the send button and her electronic emessage inside the game was delivered.

“
H
-Hold on
, I’ll get the n-nurse.” My father squeezed my hand.

My vision blurred as I tried to focus. My head felt woozy, like a swollen watermelon full of rancid beer.

Did anybody get the license plate number of that Moose? Dear God – am I still alive?

I wrapped my fingers around his hand, and I tried to smile. Who knew the twelve muscles required to smile could hurt that damn much? Everything hurt – from the follicles on my scalp to my toenail polish. I dropped the smile and decided to go for the
drugged-out patient
look instead of the
I’ll be okay, Dad
look, ‘cause right at that moment, I didn’t have enough energy to care.

“Are you th-thirsty? I have some water.”

When he mentioned water I realized how my parched body ached. Even though I knew better, I could’ve sworn I’d sucked down several sandpaper milk shakes. If extreme thirst were an Olympic event, I must have medaled for sure.

I tried to nod and found any neck movement caused excruciating pain. My father pushed the button on the bed controls to raise the head of the bed. I contorted in to an upright position to reach the water straw, but my muscles cried out in protest.

“Stop. Please stop!”

My ribs continued to crack. Whimpered cries shed silent tears onto my plaid hospital gown. My father pushed the nurse call button again.

At once, he lowered my bed back to the original position. I wasn’t sure which was worse, going up or down. Any movement left me in a haze of pain.

Finally, the torture device they called the hospital bed stopped moving. Daddy supported my neck for me to drink through the straw. My tongue and mouth savored the icy goodness; it must have been days since I had anything to drink.

Swallowing the water, however, was a whole different story. I could’ve sworn to the Pope himself that my dad gave me a can of liquid Sterno to pour down my throat and lit it on fire. My neck muscles seized when I tried to swallow. Violent coughs brought up globules of blood and other thick nasty stuff out of my mouth. I spit it out and dribbled the mess all over the front of me. Terrified to take another sip, I pushed the cup away from my face even though I desperately wanted the wet relief in my mouth.

I wanted morphine. I wanted to return to the deep, inky blackness of the netherworld where there was no pain. Please send me back to rest in the blissful arms of Morpheus.

“Dakota? Sheridan?” My sisters flooded my mind.

My father looked at his hands folded up in his lap. It hadn’t been a dream – what he showed me in the newspaper – it was true. The newspaper head lines – Sheridan and Dakota were missing from the Halloween Scream Nights.

My words croaked out, “Daddy … I’m sorry … my dream … the Red Man …”

At first, my breathing became so labored the pain was more than I could endure. I couldn’t stop the sobbing, or the ache in my chest, knowing my sisters were gone. The hitch in my breathing shot scorching fire pokers throughout my rib cage as I tried to contain my tears. I cried out in mourning for my sisters. My father hugged me as I cried in his arms.

A young, slender nurse with dark raven hair and eyes answered my father’s call and came in to check me. “Hello, Cheyenne, my name is Amicula. I’m your night nurse. Are you okay? Are you in much pain?”

My father sat up and we looked at the intruder.

Feckin’ lovely. A sarcastic nurse. Am I in much pain? My sisters are most likely dead – yes, I’m in pain.

I nodded with imperceptible movement. Knowing I shouldn’t take my grieving out on her, I noted the name on her scrubs. When I felt better, I would apologize. I’d never seen a name like that before.

She checked her watch. “Are you ready for another dose of happy juice?”

Happy juice? Did she mean the little morphine button of long forgotten sorrows? Hmm. Maybe, she wasn’t that bad after all. I can’t stand feeling like this.

I gave her an agreeable thumbs up.

She typed onto her electronic tablet. The machine that went ping over my head let out another chime, and the nurse smiled at my dad. She leaned over toward his face, patted his arm, and whispered, “She needs to sleep. Try not to upset her too much and don’t use the bed controls to move her.”

My father politely nodded at Amicula. I wondered why I could hear her whispered words to him as clear as if she had whispered them directly to me.

She turned back to face me and said with inarguable certainty, “You are going to be fine, Cheyenne. You have healing to do of course, but you’re going to live for a very – long – time. The doctor will be in to see you soon.”

Without moving my head, I looked at Amicula, then back at my dad, and then back at her again. Amicula seemed so … perky.

She smiled a practiced smile and left the room tapping on her tablet. Glad to have her gone, I needed to be alone. I wanted time to understand and process what had happened to me, and to see if I could remember any details about Sheridan and Dakota. Maybe I could give the police information to help in the investigation.

Clearing my throat from thick mucus, I tried to croak out words without much success. Frogs have sounded better. “How long have I been out?”

“It’s been a c-couple of days, Cheyenne.”

“There hasn’t been any news of them?” My eyes pleaded with him.

He shook his head. “No, nothing.”

I bit at my lips to try and hold back the sobs.

“J-just relax now, Cheyenne. You heard the nurse. There’s nothing you can do at this moment other than get better. So please, try to breathe baby. O-kay?”

I nodded.

My father’s face wasn’t as swollen as I remembered. I knew when he was this upset, his stuttering was worse. The doctors said the stutter came from the traumatic shock when Mom died eight years ago. They weren’t sure if he’d ever regain control over his voice in stressful situations again.

A few minutes later, a male voice I did not recognize asked, “Good evening, Miss O’Cuinn. My name is Lloyd, and I’ll be here at your beck and call tonight. How are you feeling?”

Unsure how to answer, I tried to wade through the fog in my head. I made a
meh
gesture with my hand.

“Perhaps we’ll see how you’re feeling in the morning. There’s no hurry – we’re glad to have you back. Baby steps for now, okay?”

I blinked at him and gave him a slight smile. I liked him better than I did Ms. Perky Pants.

Lloyd raised the yellow bag hanging from the side of the bed for me to see. “Looks like you’re draining well. You don’t seem to be retaining fluids like you were earlier. That’s a super sign of recovery.”

Catheterized. This lovely little scenario just keeps getting better.

“Let me get this output logged in your records. I saw the surgeon come onto the floor to make his rounds. I’ll let him know you’re awake. Overall, you’re looking much better from when you first got here. You’re lucky to be alive you know that?”

I looked at my dad again. He patted my arm. Why were hospital staff members always so chatty?

“If you need or want anything, you press this blue button okay? Can you see this? He held the clicker over my face for a moment. I blinked twice to acknowledge his instructions.

“Water. Lip balm.” Cracks in my lips hurt, and my mouth still felt as if I had consumed the Sahara.

“You’re thirsty?”

I blinked at him again and swallowed.

“Let me get another cup of ice chips for you. We’ve got mouth sponges to help you with your thirst and keep your lips moist. We’ve had to be real careful with your throat, so don’t try to drink too much yet okay?” His voice spoke as if this were an everyday occurrence. I guess for him – it was.

Lloyd stepped toward the door, snapped his fingers up beside his head, and turned towards my Dad. “Oh, before I forget, will you both be staying with us again, Mr. O’Cuinn? I can arrange for another easy chair recliner if you would like?”

Daddy looked across the room towards the windows and then back at Lloyd. “Yes. Thanks. D-do you know how long the cafeteria will be open?”

I tried to see at what he looked at, but couldn’t raise my head high enough to see past his shoulder.

“Tonight is Monday night and the nurses’ station orders out to the Honey Wing BBQ House. It’s kinda tradition each week. Would you like for us to order you guys something from there instead of the hospital food?”

My father was a chicken wing fanatic, but I couldn’t figure out why Lloyd kept saying guys. Was there somebody else in the room?

“Brilliant – sounds aces to me” a voice sounded from the back of the room. “What do you think, Kiernan – ready for something other than bland potatoes?”

My breath hitched in my chest.

Oh no! How could he possibly be here? How would he know? I never met up with him at the waterfalls.

“Thank you, Lloyd, that’d be keen. I app-appreciate that. When can Cheyenne have some food?”

Lloyd answered, “Let me check with the doctor and see if we can get her some broth tonight, maybe even a liquid Jell-O. I’ll be right back with the menus.” He grabbed his tablet and returned to the nurses’ station.

I grabbed at my Dad’s arm, struggling to look past him. My eyes desperate to focus and see who was behind the voice I knew so well. The voice I fell in love with so long ago. The voice I had spent hundreds of hours over the headset playing with as Lady Caz in the ExsanguiNation simulators.

With a stupid grin on his face, Daddy leaned back to give me a better line of sight on my target. Afraid of what I thought I would find, I saw the outline of a man sitting on a couch across the room. What slowly materialized before my eyes was the face of a man I had never seen before in person, but my heart knew I had heard his voice a thousand times.