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Nurse Cassatt entered Kelly's room, eyes landing on the patient in question. Under the flimsy hospital blanket, her chest rose and fell as she slept. Maya's shoulders relaxed. She flipped the light switch off, the room still bright enough from the daylight streaming through the window.
Kelly's vitals seemed steady with the monitor's monotone rhythmic beeping, and the numbers only confirmed that. But still… she couldn't even begin to fathom how Kelly's mental state must be doing, the poor woman.
She turned to the television, a small, fickle thing desperately in need of an upgrade. Miss Kane had fallen asleep to the news channel. Part of her related to that, the news here in Clivesdale was ridiculously boring up until this point. The other part showed her a vision of Kelly passing out from the verge of anxiety, waiting for any news on the home only she had evacuated from.
As the voiceover announcer finished his spiel, the screen faded into the two news anchors she'd seen on TV since she was a kid: a woman with blonde hair and the usual pencil skirt dress, and a guy with curly brown-red hair, dressed in smart vintage. Rachel and Rod Ramsey, happily married since who knew when. Could be since birth for all Maya knew. The chyron flashed with the words Hatchetfield tragedy caused by meteor and gas line rupture.
As always, Rod spoke first. "It's been a week since tragedy struck our sister city of Hatchetfield." (She would have said screw Hatchetfield —not customary, but it evened out their tradition—but it didn't feel right anymore.) "Authorities have just released new information to the public."
Rachel nodded. "According to military personnel present at the time of the event, the mysterious meteor that crashed into the Starlight Theatre and a ruptured gas line caused the disaster…”
The story went on, for once the content being more interesting than the anchors instead of the other way around. (Not that the bar was high in the first place.)
Maya hummed. She crossed her arms and tilted her head just slightly to the side. Mellow green eyes darted toward Kelly, to the television, and back again.
Frankly, she didn't quite believe it was a gas line accident that ruined Hatchetfield.
For one, Kelly would have told her. She'd come in mentioning the meteor, as well as a helicopter and rebar—then she hesitated, almost distraught, and said that was it. Nothing about a gas line. If it were a gas line, it would be too mundane not to mention it, much less hesitate about it.
Okay, maybe she hesitated because the gas line rupturing was the lynchpin that murdered everyone she ever knew in the area. And Maya knew she hadn't known Kelly for any longer than a week—they weren't friends by any capacity—but there was no reason not to say.
Two, the military. Them coming in for the meteor made sense, sure. But why did they wait so long to tell everyone the news? Was there a cover-up at hand?
Three, the meteor. Hello, space rock unnoticed by scientists beforehand? Aliens! Need she say more?
Maya’s eyes fell to the door, suddenly grateful that she was alone. Good thing none of her colleagues were around right now. They always did say she made a distinctive face whenever her mind wandered like this—perks of being exclusively assigned to just one person, she supposed.
She huffed, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.
Never one for many friends, she really only considered two other nurses in the hospital as such: Jake Berger, who she'd met in nursing school, and Lizzie Fletcher, who made friends with everyone, though that didn't detract from anything.
Separately, they couldn't be more different aside from their career choice. But together, at the right time? Maya would never hear the end about the conspiracy thing.
The "conspiracy thing" in question being that this whole obsession started ironically. It was a joke, really. A joke that ended up pulling her into its event horizon, and she let it.
This job didn't come with a lot of free time, and for better or worse (definitely worse), she spent a regrettable chunk of it laughing at conspiracy theorists who didn't know how basic science worked. It was the best of times wasted on the internet, it was the worst of times wasted on the internet. And Maya didn't know when she started crossing over to the seriously-a-conspiracy-enthusiast side, but before she realized it, she stood far past the point of return.
Maybe it was the one about the shopping cult that got to her. Or the one about the secret supernatural-fighting branch in the military. She had a cousin in the military who always seemed shady—maybe that had something to do with it.
"I bet she's a part of the military Scooby Gang," Lizzie had joked in passing when Colonel Schaeffer had brought Kelly in. She'd said it loudly enough for Jake to snicker at it as he picked up papers from reception. The Colonel had been out of earshot, of course. At the time, she'd been annoyed as per usual, but in hindsight it felt inappropriate considering the barely-conscious survivor was right there, bleeding out with rebar sticking through her leg. She should have thought about the implications.
"Mmph."
Kelly stirred from where she slept, wearing an expression Maya couldn't exactly pinpoint. A single offbeat beep turned into faster-paced beeping. Kelly mumbled in her sleep, nothing she could make out, but from the tone alone she could tell it wasn't good.
Before Nurse Cassatt could do anything, Kelly exhaled a sharp breath. The beeping went back to normal. Cautiously, she gave Kelly a small nudge, and then another, until hazy brown eyes fluttered open.
"Are you all right, Miss Kane?" Maya asked quietly.
Kelly gave a noncommittal grunt. Her heartbeat's pace, on the other hand, went up a notch. She scowled at the monitor.
"Got a headache," she muttered, still dazed and half-asleep. "Do we have any painkillers?"
Something told her there was something more, but she didn't press. "Um. You're already on painkillers.” She made a vague motion to her patient’s leg.
"Damn. What about coffee?"
"I don't think that's a good idea right now," she said gently. "You experienced some heart palpitations and an elevated heart rate while you were sleeping."
She blinked. “Oh. You know what, just”—she rubbed her temples—“more water. Please.”
“Got it,” Maya said softly. She glanced over to the water cooler and frowned. Wasn’t that nearly full when she entered the room? Worry and theories started creeping into her mind and—
No. This was not the time. She needed to get more water. And probably grab Kelly’s physician on the way back, just to check on whatever had happened.
Kelly screwed her eyes shut, opened them again, and fumbled for the remote. She'd settled on the nature channel when Maya left, closing the door behind her.
She hummed a soft, catchy tune, bounding down the hall and past reception.
"Yeah, I'm here for Kelly Kane?”
She held her frown, turning around to see Jake talking to someone unfamiliar. He was tall and lanky, and his eyes were unnervingly blue. He tapped his fingers together.
Jake quirked an eyebrow. "What's your relation to her?"
Panic shot down her spine. Schaeffer had warned her not to let any visitors see Kelly unless it was the Colonel herself.
"I'm a friend," he said wistfully, in a way that didn't sound like they were just friends. Something out of a romcom, really.
"Er…” Jake shifted where he stood. She'd never seen him uncomfortable before. "Sorry, sir, but—"
"Hello!" Maya said brightly, nearly slapping herself with whiplash in the process. "You're looking for Kelly Kane, Mister…?”
"Bridges, Ben Bridges," the man nodded eagerly. She felt the weight of Jake's hidden confusion.
"She's in Room 311," she said. A clear lie, but Ben didn't know that. Maya flashed a smile almost on par with retail service.
"Okay," Ben's head bounced, "okay. Thank you!"
Colonel Schaeffer did plan for this. (She probably had a plan for everything.) Get to Kelly's room, lock it shut and call her with the private number she'd left in the pastel cyan backpack. Yeah, Maya could do that. Just three easy steps. And a possible murderer or supervillain or alien to dodge.
She shot Jake a glance and ran.
Maya cut through the cafeteria, bolting to a further elevator—one she was certain Ben wouldn't use. She smashed in the fourth floor button, ignoring the side eyes from other hospital staff and patients. The ding felt like it took forever to arrive.
She let muscle memory take over, shifting her focus to the near-identical doors that passed her by.
- 417. 418. 419.
- 421. 422. 423.
Maya rounded the corner to room 424, only to skid to a stop.
"It's never a good idea to lie in a hospital, Maya," Ben tsked. He shook his head. "You of all people should have known better."
Her heart tightened. She could only splutter as she stepped a pace back, then another.
"I can make this a painless operation, Nurse," he said distantly, "in the backseat of a car…”
Ben's eyes pulsed blue as he sang, the same colour tarnishing his bright grin.
Maya eyed the corridor from where she came. With a deep breath, she pivoted on her heels.
"In the corner of a room…”
A second voice joined Ben's, clear and resonant. Lizzie. Her left ear and red hair were matted glowing blue. Blue seeped into the veins in her eyes.
"In the shadows where I hide from you.”
"No," she whispered as Jake joined the harmony. Blue leaked from his neck.
"Do the hospital bed crawl…”
The cool of the walls hit her full force. They'd backed her up into a corner. Her brain screamed at her, eyes darting to their faces and their wounds and the sickening smile on Ben's face and the blue, everything was covered in blue.
“Do the terminal yell…”
The vocals dropped to just Ben.
"And the violently alone I feel."
The trio lunged at her all at once. Her scream cut through her vocal cords as the musical alien zombies cut through her flesh.
Musical alien zombies? Seriously? Not even the conspiracy theorists could have come up with something as absurd as that.
Wait no, those couldn't be her last thoughts—
Before she could backtrack, music exploded in her ears.
She watched from a corner, the room just as dark as the night outside. Emma—her name was Emma—slept soundly. An empty mug rested on her bedside table.
"Well hey," the King loomed above her, brushing a stray lock of hair off Emma's face, "you're the only thing I wouldn't change…”
Emma sunk into her pillow, a smile playing on her lips. She had never seen that before. They really were meant to rule together, huh.
"In this place, it's strange to say—you're the only angel I ever gave away."
She frowned. He deserved happiness, what kind of King didn't?
"But not for long," the King whispered, eyes closed. He rested a hand on Emma's shoulder. "It isn't the right time yet, my love."
He breathed deeply, placing his hand in hers. The soon-to-be Queen curled her fingers around them.
"Soon."