Standard Procedure

Standard Procedure: New Patient

The call came in around 5:00 in the morning leaving Jane with only about one hour of sleep. She wished whoever called would just call back later, but the ringing persisted. She finally dragged her tired body toward the side of the bed and fumbled for the phone, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. She pressed the talk button and listened. It was her boss, every available nurse was needed at the hospital. They had a very resistant gunman who'd been shot by the cops. She returned the phone to its cradle and groaned as she tugged on a pair of jeans. She was working overtime here and she didn't care if she looked professional.

Her keys in her teeth she started for the door, pulling her tangled hair in a messy bun at her neck. Headlights blended together as she skillfully navigated through DC traffic. She was so tired, she'd been on for 48 hours now and was falling asleep on her feet. She felt her eyelids start to droop as she pulled into the hospital parking lot for the second time. Leaning her head back on the headrest she pondered what it would be like just to sit there and nap.

Jane shoved the heavy metal door inward and rounded the corner. The maze-like hallways made her feel like a rat, looking for a way out constantly but being pulled back by the allure of cheese that no one ever found. She heard a commotion down the hallway and started to walk faster. A sea of blue covered the entire hospital room. The police were everywhere and at the center of it all was the man. He appeared normal, except for the stain of deep crimson on his chest. Five officers held him down even though he was handcuffed to the bed.

She wondered at the show of uniforms. He wasn't a very large man, average build and body type. Why do they need five men to restrain him? She saw why in the next couple seconds.

With his hands cuffed to the sides of the bed he sat straight up, head-butting the young officer in front of him. Jane saw the veins pulse in his arms. His eyes were wild and feral, they held no compassion, no consequence. His dark hair was matted to his forehead with sweat. He wasn't even out of breath. The police scrambled to restrain him further. The hospital bed shook and groaned. How could he be that strong, those beds were made of steel?

Jane felt herself back into the doorway as another policeman was head-butted. The fallen officer didn't move, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Jane turned herself back to the man in the bed. His chest was heaving hard now, the veins in his neck looking ready to explode, but yet that wild resistance was still in his eyes. The cuffs dug into his wrists, rubbing them raw. Jane's breath hitched as he stared at her. There was no soul behind those eyes, they were empty. She pulled her eyes away from his, horrified at what she saw.

Jane turned around and filled a syringe with sedative. The police piled on top of him and he squirmed beneath the weight. She pulled up the man's sleeve and he tried to grab her hand. With shaking fingers she shoved the needle into his arm and watched as the clear liquid left the syringe. The man tensed and his sleeve slid up more, revealing the tattoo of an eagle on the interior of his elbow.

The man's eyes widened as he saw her staring at his mark. The bed shook and cracked, the sedative didn't even phase him. The policemen struggled above him, pressing with all their weight on the man. She couldn't help it and again stared into his eyes, she blinked. This couldn't be right. There were flecks of gold in his green eyes. Blinking again she beheld the same image. Jane was frozen, she'd never seen anything more strange in her life. The spell was broken only as his face contorted, the lines in his face deepening as pure hatred seeped into his vision.

She again reached for the sedative as he took out another officer. She jammed it into the same spot as the last one. She could tell as it sunk in, his arms relaxing, the muscles no longer straining at the cuffs. Jane sighed and let herself fall to the floor, she sank to her knees and relaxed. The policemen slid off him and stood beside the bed. Just then a piercing scream shook the building and the man again shot up with full force, snapping the sides of the bed from the frame. He stood up breathing heavily. The cops were on him in an instant, he was slower, his senses dulled. He still fought them off managing to stand upright the entire time.

The remaining policemen raised their guns and aimed them at his chest. He kept charging, the steel hospital bed railings trailing behind him like wings. Shots echoed in the small space, one clipping him in the side, the other buried itself in his rib cage. He slowed but didn't stop and rammed into the line of police at full force. Jane quickly filled another syringe, to the max. She rushed forward, eyes on the figure, he was beating the cops, his fist slammed into the jaw of the police chief and Jane heard a sickening crack. She worked up the courage and stabbed the needle into his neck and pushed. She turned and ran toward the hallway, never looking back.

She felt a hand clamp on her ankle and she tumbled to the tile. His gold-flecked eyes seared into hers. She felt his grip lessen and his eyes started to fade. The sedative was taking effect. Finally his head sunk to the floor and Jane backed away from his still figure. She was shaking, she pulled herself up along the wall. Shouts rang out all around her and a herd of doctors poured into the room. There was enough sedative in his body now to sedate a full grown tiger for four hours.

Jane felt a hand on her shoulder. A male doctor led her away, she turned her head as she reached the door, staring back at the man on the floor covered in blood. She shook all over. The groans of policemen echoed in the hallway where she stood. The male doctor took her hand trying to comfort her. She wasn't crying, she felt spent. She drifted away from the man, he didn't follow her. Jane shoved at the stair door, collapsing into it actually. The floor was cold as she sat down on the dirty tile. She stared down at her ankle and turned her head.

On her hands and knees she hacked up the pizza she had eaten not more than three hours earlier. The blood on her ankle brought the whole scene to life. She turned again to her side wanting to vomit again but couldn't. She heard a noise behind her and raspy breath. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see what was behind her. She could feel his eyes on her.

David stood behind her. He was actually standing, he couldn't believe it. He coughed and brought up more blood. When the shots pieced the air he knew something was horribly wrong. No one saw him as he struggled to stand, reaching for anything he could grab as he exited the hospital room. He slowly began walking, and he ended up in the stairway. She was sobbing as he got closer. "Please don't hurt me, dear God no," she moaned. He coughed again and she slowly turned her head.

"Mr. Peterson,......... but how?"

"Not a clue."

David was starting to feel weak, his legs unaccustomed to walking. His sudden burst of strength had deserted him. He swayed where he stood. Jane was on her feet quickly and she led him to the step. He sat down and stared at her. Her eyes were rimmed red with tears.

Jane stared back at the old general, how could he walk? Whatever strength had possessed him moments ago had clearly left, he now sat beside her breathing hard, blood leaking by the side of his mouth. She tried to smile at him, but couldn't seem to lift the sides of her lips. He noticed and his eyes rose to meet hers. She was scared, he felt sorry for her. If he and Margaret had ever had a child he imagined a girl would have looked a lot like her. They didn't speak for a long time. A commotion outside the door meant they'd found out that Mr. Peterson was no longer in his bed.

Jane got up, her own legs shaky, and signaled a few male nurses. They helped the old general back into his bed. Jane thanked them and turned to Mr. Peterson. His walk had taken so much out of him. He now laid on the bed coughing.

Jane laid her hand on his arm, she felt him calm. The coughing slowed and he looked up at her.

"Go home, you need some sleep, time to think," he said.

She nodded and a tear slide down her cheek. Whether she liked it or not the old man had become one of her closest friends. She said goodbye and exited the room.