Page 84 of Ruled By Fate

The driver gave her a look but turned up the radio so they could hear the dispatch reports about incoming traumas. Brie blushed scarlet and lowered her head. Much as she didn’t want to be known as “that person” in the workplace, she couldn’t stand the way they were writing this man off as though he was already lost. Even if she was fairly certain they were right.

Sherry reached over and squeezed Brie’s hand. She squeezed back.

By the time they pulled into the ambulance bay, everyone in the rig feared the worst, but they still worked determinedly, as though they had at least some chance of bringing the man back. Only after the code had been run, only after every medical option to save his life had been exhausted, did the on-call doctor snap his gloves onto a nearby tray and call time of death.

Brie and Sherry looked on grimly as the room slowly emptied of personnel. They stayed while the distraught new widow was allowed a last glance at the deceased before being taken away again, sobbing, to complete the kind of paperwork that no young wife should ever have to fill out. They stayed while the room emptied again, sinking onto the bed across from the dead man.

They sat next to one another in dark silence. Finally, Sherry stood.

“I don’t feel much like shopping anymore. I’m going to call Mike to pick us up.” She pulled out her phone. “And I’m getting us some coffee. This isn’t the kind of situation one should face without coffee. Do you want anything?”

Brie shook her head and stared at the body, unblinking.

“I’ll be back. Do you want to come with me?” Sherry asked.

Brie shook her head again, unable to summon words.

After a moment of hesitation, Sherry closed the curtain separating the room, blocking Brie’s view of the body, and walked out into the hall.

Brie stared into space. Only an hour ago, he’d been alive and vibrant. He’d been kissing his wife goodbye. He had a job, a nice home, and a lovely partner. Plans. A future.

Fate is so cold. So arbitrary.

She was still lost in her thoughts when she heard scuffling footsteps enter the room. At first, she thought it was Sherry coming to get her, but some deep instinct told her to stay quiet. That’s when she heard the horrible throat-clearing sound she’d come to loathe just like the rest of the staff.

Dr. Matthews.

She tucked her feet up onto the bed so he couldn’t see her. There was a strange thump, followed by a series of clicking sounds. Then a rustle, like something being lifted out of fabric.

Ever so slowly, she peeked around the curtain.

Dr. Matthews was bending over the deceased. His strange black bag was open on the floor beside him. On the dead man’s chest lay a bizarre-looking object. It looked like a sculpture of some kind, carved in interlocking, polished swoops of wood. The thing had a decidedly claw or antler-like appearance, and a black stone sphere was shining in the middle. Though the craftsmanship needed to sculpt such a thing was undeniably in the realm of artistry, the piece itself was too sinister to be beautiful. The stone emanated a faint golden glow, somehow sickly but growing steadily stronger.

In a moment of decision she hadn’t consciously made, Brie whipped back the curtain.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a loud voice, hoping her volume would hide her fear.

Matthews leaped back with a cry, nearly dropping the strange object. “I’m…” He looked at her with a wild mix of fear and anger before making the decision to go with anger. “What are you doing here?” he glared accusingly.

“I came in with the code,” she answered, turning her head up defiantly. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here? What is that thing?”

He tried to keep his composure, but his breathing was ragged, and his forehead was already dripping with sweat. Nonetheless, he decided the way out of this situation was to pull rank.

“That is my personal property, and I am here on hospital business, which frankly is none of your concern, Nurse Weldon. Now, I suggest you hurry along before I have you written up.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Written up for what?”

Before he had a chance to respond, she cut him off. “You know what? Knock yourself out. In fact, let’s get HR down here right now. We’ll see who they’re more interested in: a nurse who decided to stay with a dead man’s body till the morgue came to pick it up out of respect or a doctor who gets his jollies by sneaking into a dead patient’s room and messing around with the body, even when he wasn’t involved with the case at all.”

He stammered for a moment before stuffing the strange contraption into its case, turning on his heel, and rushing out the door. He nearly knocked Sherry over on his way out.

“Watch it!” she protested, almost spilling coffee on herself. She turned to Brie. “What the hell is going on with that guy? What was he doing in here?”

“Sher, stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Brie rushed out the door before she could hear a word of protest, following Matthews down the hall and past the nurses’ station before she ran smack dab into Denise.

“Weldon, slow down.”

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