Page 9 of Private Exhibit
“Oh. I guess that's not so bad. But still.”
“Yeah. But it's within walking distance, which helps. And the pay sounds great. And it's not like I can break anything,” he added, thinking of the countless trays full of hot dishes he'd dropped over the years, thanks to his disease. “And they specifically wanted someone with Tanasian ancestry.”
Oliver's eyebrows went up. “That's a weird preference.”
“Right?”
They stared at one another until, at the same moment, they both whispered, “Ghosts?”
Devon slowly nodded. That had to be it. There were bound to be ghosts all over the hospital, but especially down in the morgue. He supposed it made sense to have staff who could actually see them. Maybe even communicate with them. Help ease their passing.
Of course, if that were the case, Devon was screwed. He couldn't see ghosts anymore. He'd had that ability taken away years ago.
It was part of the reason he was still alive.
Chapter 4
ANDY SCOWLED at the body on his slab.
“For gods' sakes,” he grumbled. “Just tell me who you are already.”
He snatched up the tablet displaying the deceased man's file. The guy was a complete unknown. No records in the hospital database, nor in any other database for which the hospital had information sharing privileges. Andy cursed. He honestly wasn't even sure he was doing the search correctly. He'd never been good with computers. Never had to be, until he took over the morgue. All through his career, he'd had a whole team of doctors and nurses under him, people who could do the tedious paperwork, research, and data entry while he focused on what he was good at: diagnosing weird problems and saving lives.
Except he wasn't very good at that either, considering he couldn't even save his own son.
Andy growled and flung the tablet across the room. It hit the polished floor with a deafeningbang.
Whoa!
Andy whirled around at the sound of his son's voice. He spotted Junior halfway between himself and the tablet, the boy's eyes wide with shock.
“Gods,” Andy gasped, darting towards him. “Are you alright? Did I hurt–”
Junior laughed.Dad. Come on.The boy gestured at himself, then deliberately passed his hand through the autopsy table beside him.
Andy blinked dumbly, then let out a heavy breath. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I mean,” he quickly added.Shit. He cleared his throat.
Junior rolled his eyes in the most teenager way possible.Dad, come on. I've heard worse. Hells, I've said worse.
Andy narrowed his eyes. “When?”
Junior repeated the eye-roll.Come on, Dad. I'm twenty now. I think I can say a few bad–
“No, you are not, young man,” Andy bit off. “You're sixteen.”And always will be, he added, but he kept that thought to himself as he gave his son a quick once-over. Of course Junior wasn't hurt. The boy couldn't be hurt anymore. Not by anything physical, anyway.
Junior held up a finger, nodding towards the wall that separated the morgue from the basement hallway. Andy listened. He heard soft footsteps and a hint of two voices. Probably the janitorial staff heading for the supply room. Andy muttered a curse, then shut his mouth. He'd been caught one too many times having seemingly one-sided conversations with himself. Most people on Agoran couldn't see ghosts. Just another reason Andy had confined himself to the morgue after Junior died.
Still, it was best to keep their conversation inaudible.
Junior turned around, picked up the tablet, and held it out.Good thing these are nearly indestructible.
Yeah, Andy muttered telepathically. He scowled down at the unharmed tablet, then tossed it onto the corpse's chest.
So what was that all about?Junior asked.
Andy sighed.Got an unknown, he replied, pointing at the body. Two unknowns, really, considering the boy who haddisappeared on him. The loss had plagued him all night. Incredible as the experience had been, he'd wanted more. So much more. He'd been so eager to open his eyes and see that little face staring up at him in awe.
But all he'd found was an empty cushion with just a hint of an indent from where the boy had sat on it. The sight had been unnerving. It reminded him too much of the pillow in that hospital bed after Junior's body had been removed. Andy had quickly tucked himself away and gotten up to look for the boy, but there was no sign of him anywhere.
