Page 49 of Running Feral

Chapter Sixteen

Unease sits heavy in my gut. It’s so profound I almost feel seasick, as if the hushed hospital room were swaying from side to side.

He’s been gone for too long. I know nothing significant has happened to him in the middle of a busy hospital, even if it is the middle of the night. But what if the doctor gave him bad news? What if he’s freaking out, and he needs support? We haven’t had the chance to talk about his family a lot, but I get the strong feeling that he thinks his grandmother is the only person in the world who loves him.

She seems lovely. She’s out of it right now, alternating between whispering quietly with Tristan, who is crouching next to her bedside, and dozing in the darkness. I’m glad he has a relationship with her, because I’m not sure I have the bandwidth to be good with new people right now.

All I can think about is counting the seconds until Tobias comes back and my heart can stop trying to beat out of my chest. I look at Tristan, assuming he’ll give me one of his prepackaged-but-reassuring paramedic smiles and take the edge off all this anxiety.

Instead, he returns my look with one just as concerned. Anika is asleep again, and Tristan’s hands are clasped tightly in his lap, while his gaze flits between mine and the door.

When he stands up, we both know why without having to say anything. We quickly move into the hallway toward the nurses’ station. The halls are all dimly lit, but the station is full of several nurses sitting at computers, their faces all illuminated by the screens as they tap quietly on the keyboards or talk amongst themselves in low voices. I don’t see the nurse who took Tobias anywhere, but she could still be with him. The thought doesn’t settle my nerves at all, though.

There’s a woman sitting at the desk facing the front. She’s middle-aged, with bronze skin, intense but flawless makeup, and a slick, dark ponytail, who gives off a general air of authority.

“I didn’t get called about a direct transfer, Tristan. What are you doing up here?” she says, looking preoccupied but not unkind.

“I’m actually off shift, Maricella. I came to check on a patient and give her grandson a ride. Anika Tanikon. Do you know where her nurse is? She took the grandson to talk, and they’ve been gone way too long.”

Maricella looks at me, probably to figure out how I fit into this equation, but then shrugs it off. She glances at her screen quickly, but I immediately notice the crease that forms around her eyes.

“That’s weird. You said the nurse that talked to the grandson was female? Your patient has been assigned to Jameson since she arrived, who’s both male and has been on lunch for the last half hour. Who did you talk to?”

Tristan and I look at each other, but we both move slowly, like a moment out of a horror movie. Which isn’t a comparison my brain would have pulled until Tobias made me start watching the stupid things, and now I have even more horrific images running through my brain of what might be about to happen to him. As if my imagination needed the help.

“Go,” Tristan snaps, before reaching for the desk phone. “What’s the extension for security?” This question is for Maricella, who is clearly taken aback but locking into Tristan with the same kind of emergency hyper-focus he seems to have for situations like this.

I don’t hear her answer, because I’m already running. I have no idea where I’m running to, but at least I’m finally doing something.

Hopefully, Tristan is getting security to lock the place down. Or, if he can’t convince them to go that far, at least start looking for where Eamon took Tobias.

If that’s what’s happening. Is that what’s happening?

It has to be. There’s no other explanation for it.

The ‘nurse’ said something about the ICU, so I follow the signs overhead at a brisk jog, ducking around slow-moving patients and even slower phlebotomists with their giant fucking carts, doing my best not to plow anyone down in the process.

When I finally make it, I can’t get in without a keycard. But the unit is small, just a hallway with bays on either side, and the doors are transparent. I can see far enough to know Tobias isn’t in there unless he’s being held in a corner somewhere, which seems unlikely. If he’s trapped, it would be farther away from all the real doctors and nurses.

“Fuck!”

I’m loud enough that I turn a few heads from the sleepless people around me, but I don’t care. Why didn’t I get him afucking phone yet? Why did I trust him to be safe just because it was a public place?

Why did I trust myself to keep him safe in the first place?

I’ve screwed this up from the start. I’m just another person in the long series of people in his life letting him down. Now he really needs rescuing, and not only am I not there, I don’t even know where to look.

The next hour is a blur. I think it’s an hour, at least. I keep moving through the hospital, looking over every floor inch by inch, begging nurses to look wherever I can’t go. Tristan got ahold of security at least, because they’re searching, too, but their enthusiasm is lukewarm at best.

They keep asking if there’s an order of protection, or to confirm that the person isn’t a child. And I’m saying ‘no’ every time, but it doesn’t seem to land.

As soon as they wrap their heads around the fact that it’s an adult man who we believe has been taken against his will by another adult man, it’s like they shutter closed. They don’t care, or don’t believe us, or don’t think it’s in their jurisdiction to get involved. Some combination of the above.

I don’t know and they’re not explaining. But the more we look, no matter how much energy Tristan puts into barking orders and calling in any professional favors or personal influence he has, it becomes clear that they’re not interested in helping us. It’s not a child, it’s not a patient, and it’s not someone that they’re legally obligated to care about.

Call the cops or get out, is the end result.

I equivocate for about a minute and a half before I decide to call the cops. I know Tobias wouldn’t want me to. I know he’d be pissed, but we’re past that now. Eamon has him and is now fully aware that he’s capable of running. Fuck knows where he’s hiding and what he’s planning to do to him.

---