Page 37 of Fortress
“Yeah, but...” Jake groped for the right question. “Does Cunningham know?”
“She isn’t involved in discharge decisions,” Dr. Turner said coolly, “but I’m sure she’ll be relieved to learn she no longer has an unidentified supernatural in her hospital. Is there a problem?”
“No, no no no, we’ll be out of here before your next refill. Just, uh.” He hesitated, the next words awkward in his mouth. “Thanks. For thinking of Toby.”
Dr. Turner nodded curtly and pushed the papers across to him. “Review these and let me know if you have any questions. If you tell me where you’re headed, I could see if I have colleagues in the area who would understand the situation. Oh, also—the lab is rushing his blood work, but the results won’t be done until later today at the earliest. Here’s my card. You can call me later this week for the results.”
Jake folded the papers around the card and stood up. “I appreciate it, doc.”
A little under an hour later, without so much as a glimpse of Dr. Cunningham, Jake was helping Toby out the door of the hospital. He knew it wasn’t possible for Toby to have lost a ton of weight in under twenty-four hours, but he felt as thin and fragile as he did in those brutal first weeks in Boulder. Or maybe it was Toby’s hunched posture, how he wouldn’t look at anyone, hadn’t spoken more than a couple of syllables as Jake got him out of the restraints and helped him change into real goddamn clothes,how he’d let himself be adjusted like a doll as the nurse—still in her stupid protective gear—gingerly fixed the sling for his right arm.
Toby was white as a sheet and breathing shallowly by the time Jake got him into the Eldorado’s shotgun seat, clutching an ice pack to his side despite the cold outside. Jake had pulled out all their spare coats and blankets to bundle around Toby, but he still cast him a worried glance as he started the engine. No way they’d make hundreds of miles today, as much as he wanted to put distance between them and the hospital. He’d have to take Roger’s advice, see if Alex could harbor them, because Toby needed somewheresafefor the next few weeks at least, and he needed it now.
Alice arrived in Sedona late in the morning. She’d booked the red-eye the night before, but a weather delay had kept that one on the ground, and flashing her ASC badge wouldn’t have done a damn thing to speed up the process. Besides, as Director Jonah always said, showing the badge was often just showing their hand, and it sent civilians into a panic besides. Though a couple times through the interminable lines, she had really wanted to.
At least the rental car in Phoenix was ready to go, and by keeping precisely to the speed limit, she walked into Methodist Hospital less than two hours later.
She did display the badge at the front desk, this being official business. “I’m Alice Dixon with the Agency for Supernatural Control. I got a report that you had a supernatural incident that brought in a freak. I’m going to need to see that freak and also Hunter Jake Hawthorne.”
The receptionist gave her a wide-eyed look. “Oh—let me—I’ll call Dr. Turner right away.” She picked up the phone, and Aliceresisted the temptation to tap her foot. Arrogance was important for the Dixon image, but it could backfire. If she wanted to succeed in public relations, it would be good not to alienate too many staffs.
A second later, a formidable-looking woman strode through the doors. “You’re the ASC representative?” she asked, offering her hand. “I’m Dr. Kendra Turner, sup-spec for Methodist Hospital.”
“Alice Dixon, Regional Public Relations Manager,” she answered. “I need to see Hunter Hawthorne and the freak he brought in immediately.”
The woman’s mouth tightened. “You’re going to have to speak to Dr. Cunningham.” Nodding for Alice to accompany her, she turned back for the doors. Irritated, Alice followed.
Cunningham was the typical curt executive in her fifties with no patience for distractions from the usual business of her day. She also seemed to know without explanation why Alice was there. “I can’t help you,” she said unapologetically. “Hawthorne and his supernatural left without clearing the front desk three hours ago.”
Alice blinked. “Excuse me?”
“They weren’t officially discharged,” Dr. Turner explained. “They left anyway. Preliminary examination showed that the supernatural wasn’t a threat. Actually, it seems like he was instrumental in saving the lives of—”
“If Hawthorne’s gone, I need to know everything,” Alice said, cutting her off. “All your reports, all your notes, any surveillance footage you have. I need access to all your records and a list of personnel who interacted with them, and all this in a place where I can work.”
Neither Cunningham nor Turner seemed particularly pleased about that, but Cunningham nodded without argument. “Of course we’ll assist the ASC however we can.” The two womenexchanged a glance (Cunningham angry, Turner defensive) that implied more than Alice could parse this early into the game.
It took far too long to get everything she wanted. She pored over the records of the hospital visit, interviewed the survivors of the troll hunt, talked to all the staff who’d seen Hawthorne and his behavior around the freak. She had more than one interview with Turner, who was definitely hiding something, but the best that Alice could figure was that for a supernatural specialist, she had something of an unprofessional soft spot for the monster that Hawthorne had brought in.
When she found out all that she could, she called Director Jonah.
“Cousin.” His voice was fond, precise, confident. “What do you have for me?”
Wishing it was more, Alice outlined the hunt and the steps the hospital had taken to contain the supernatural, her inferences about Hawthorne’s behavior (he certainly had a soft spot for his pet monster as well), the general impressions that both had been in good health and had apparently been hunting. She passed along the results from the blood work (frustratingly incomplete due to some incompetence in the lab), their injuries, and how shortly before her arrival they had left.
Alice concluded with her recommendation that a squad be sent out to make sure the troll was actually dead (they could get up after a lot of damage, and even if they didn’t, that corpse would be valuable for study; the existence of trolls had been debated for years) and that there was nothing more to learn where she was.
Director Jonah listened carefully,hmmed, asked a couple careful questions, and at the end thanked her.
“Keep an eye on those alerts for Jake Hawthorne,” he said. “Actually, keep an eye on both Hawthornes.”
“Should I flag anything in particular, sir?”
“No, nothing in particular. You’ve done well,” Jonah said. “Hopefully you will be faster next time. Thank you for your thoroughness on this visit.” He hung up before she could respond.
Alice replaced the receiver and sat back in her appropriated hospital office, staring out at the wintry parking lot. Next time, shewouldbe faster.
Chapter Seven
