Faye's heaviest class/work days were Wednesdays. I decided to call in sick on Tuesday to gather my intel before she could have the chance. If someone from work saw me out and about, I'd say I was on my way to the doctor's office. It wasn't even a lie.
"Aren't you going to work?" Faye caught me lying convincingly on the couch wrapped in a blanket like a human burrito on her way out the door, long after I should have left.
"I feel really dizzy," I moaned. "There's no way I could focus."
Concern flashed in her eyes. "How long has this been going on?"
"I don't know, a few days maybe? I've been feeling lightheaded but nothing like this."
Faye's mother hen instincts took over, as I knew they would. "That's really bad Lori! You need to go to the doctor. Do you need me to drive you?"
Crap. I hadn't anticipated that when I chose dizziness as my main symptom. "No, you can't miss class. I know your professor is super strict about attendance. If I feel like I can't drive I'll pull over and call one of my work friends, okay?" She didn't need to know that I had no intention of asking anyone for a ride. Or that I didn't have work friends.
She wavered. "If you're sure…I just want you be to safe. What if you crashed and died? That would be horrible!"
It was an innocent statement and she had no idea how close she was to potentially being the cause of my death. Virginia believed in the death penalty. I'd fry for sure if I was caught. It took all of my willpower to prevent the strangled, hysterical laugh from working its way through. "I know," I said with a small smile. "Thanks for caring."
"Of course I care, silly! You're my best friend." She slung her backpack over her shoulder and gave me one last look of concern before exiting the apartment, nearly tripping over Angel, who had decided the best place to nap was right in front of the door. "Take it easy today!" was the last thing I heard before the lock clicked in the door.
It took about five minutes to get to the parking structure from our apartment. I waited nine before I dared jump up, wearing street clothes under the blanket and rushed out the door. I had three different hospitals to hit before Faye got home around 6. She'd get suspicious if I wasn't lying on the couch in misery at that time of day.
The night before I had peeked at her files while she was in the shower. It was so tempting to see what she had on me but I was running out of time so I only took what I absolutely needed and committed it to memory. My potential ally seemed to only be targeting known/suspected gang members. The kills happened at all times of day on different days of the week scattered across the three hospitals. The timeline wasn't consistent. Sometimes there was one month between kills, sometimes there was three or four. The victims ranged from what seemed to be every single gang in the city, in no particular order. There was hardly any pattern to follow at all.
This doctor was smart. It was as much a wonder that Faye had discovered enough evidence to link all these deaths to this vigilante as it was that she had for me. No one else could have possibly figured it out. People died in hospitals. These deaths were just random enough to divert suspicion from anyone but Faye. I had to warn them.
While casually chatting up the receptionist at the first hospital, I learned something interesting. Most doctors don't move from hospital to hospital. Their hours are so crazy they couldn't manage two jobs. That crossed off a lot of suspects from my list. That was the good news. The bad news was that many nurses, surgical assistants, techs, and so on did move around. My list was still insurmountable. Worst of all, I didn't have access to personnel files. But that meant Faye wouldn't either. Unless she directed her concerns to the police…no!
I had to find this person before anyone else could. They were like me. We had to stick together and try to figure something out. Anyone clever enough to get away with this for so long had to be capable of coming up with a plan if we combined forces.
The second hospital wasn't much more helpful and I was about to give up hope that anyone would be able to give me anything useful when I had a bizarre stroke of luck. I was dejectedly walking out of the administration building at Midtown General, the third and final hospital on my list, when an ambulance came screeching around the corner. I was near enough to the ER entrance that I heard what the EMTs were shouting at each other.
"We need an operating room, stat! Male, twenty-eight, GSW to the chest. He's losing a lot of blood."
"Where'd you pick this one up?"
"Downtown in Tiger territory. A passing kid heard the gunshot and called 911."
Tiger territory. The Tigers were one of the most merciless street gangs out there. And messy. Their members couldn't seem to stop getting in fights and shooting each other. At least three of the victims from Faye's files had been Tigers. There was no way I was going to pass this up. As I strode into the ER I winced when I saw the time. 3:53. Who knew how long I'd be here trying to gather information? What was I going to tell Faye? I couldn't think of that now. I had to find a way to spy on that operating room.
It was easier than I thought. The ER was packed with screaming kids, people moaning in pain, and gurneys being wheeled through double doors every few minutes. I only had to wait about fifteen minutes before I took my chance and slipped in through those double doors behind several panicked people in lab coats pushing a gurney.
I frantically looked around for the operating rooms but found something better. The women's locker room. A fresh set of scrubs was folded neatly on a bench as if it was there just for me. It was risky, very risky, but wasn't bursting into the back of a hospital risky too? I normally wasn't this impulsive but there hadn't been much of a choice. Not allowing myself to ponder my insanity too thoroughly, I pulled on the scrubs and wound my hair into a sloppy bun. A glance in the mirror told me that I looked the part. Now I just needed to find that operating room. With any luck, my mystery person would be there. If they weren't, I was screwed. I shook that thought away. I couldn't think like that yet. For now, I had to believe they were here.
I held my head high as I walked out of the locker room, remembering something my high school drama teacher had once told me. If you believe it, the audience will too. If I acted like I belonged here, it was less likely that anyone would suspect that I didn't. The closest I had ever been to a nurse was when Cindy and I used to play doctor with our Barbies as kids.
My heart spasmed. I could not think about Cindy while I was in dangerous territory. I'd almost certainly drown in memories after this harrowing experience but I had to try and deliver my message first. Gritting my teeth, I continued my way down the endless hall, trying not to look lost.
A harried blond man with a receding hairline in scrubs rushed toward me. "Nina! Good, you've scrubbed in. You're needed in the OR."
Who was Nina? And OR…what did that stand for? Why hadn't I paid more attention when Faye tried to make me watch Grey's Anatomy? I froze only a few seconds before realizing it may have been my only chance to get anywhere near any of the operating rooms.
"Of course, lead the way." I infused my voice with every ounce of confidence I could muster. I couldn't be expected to know which operating room if this guy had to come find me, right?
He seemed relieved, so my instincts must have been right. "It's a bad one, GSW to the chest."
My every nerve stood on end. I was going exactly where I needed to go. Could this man be the one I was looking for? He looked innocent enough, but so did I. "What do you need me to do?"
My guide looked confused for a moment. "Oh yeah, you're new. Probably haven't done many assists out of nursing school yet. That's fine. You pretty much just need to stand there and hold the suction so blood doesn't seep into the chest cavity while Doctor Wetzel operates."
I almost began hyperventilating right there. They expected me to actually do something. I barely stifled another hysterical laugh. What was wrong with me today? Had I finally snapped? Now was not the time! "I can do that," I managed to get out semi-calmly.
My guide fell for my tone, at least. He smiled, showcasing a small chip in his front tooth, and held out his hand. "I'm Nick, by the way. Nick Ekins."
"Nice to meet you," I said sincerely as I shook it. He was helping me out after all. As long as I didn't betray myself by spazzing out, Nick may have saved my hide.
When we arrived at the OR I was extremely grateful I was used to the sight of blood because there was a lot of it. How was this guy still alive with that much blood on the table? I snapped gloves into place and affixed my mask. There. Now I was less recognizable if someone realized I wasn't actually Nina. Hospital procedure was very useful.
"Nurse Alvarado, the suction please," a man holding what looked like a pair of pliers said looking pointedly at me.
Oh. That must be me. "Right away, Doctor," I said meekly, praying he was actually the surgeon. He must have been because he didn't comment, just pointed me to the suction machine.
Somehow, miraculously, I didn't screw up because nobody seemed to notice me after that. Other nurses handed the surgeon tools. Nick occasionally handed over syringes filled with liquids of various colors. The surgeon kept at his work, almost none of which made any sort of sense to me, and after what seemed like an eternity, sighed with relief.
"He's stabilizing."
A cheer went up from the rest of the nurses but I was disappointed. I was so sure the other vigilante would be here. I'd risked getting arrested for nothing.
"Good work everyone," the surgeon said gruffly. "Go clean yourselves up."
Everyone filed out of the room, chatting and laughing. I hung back as long as I could but I was probably starting to look suspicious. Disappointed, I left the room. I was still trying to figure out how to get out of the hospital without getting caught when I saw a figure in clean scrubs heading back into the OR.
Curious, I peeked through the window and saw the man in scrubs wheeling the patient down the hall through the other door. With no thought for my own security, I followed the pair at a distance. The gurney was parked in a room and the patient was hooked up to several tubes. I was disappointed. It looked like standard procedure. Until I saw the man look around to be sure no one was watching and plunged a syringe into one of the tubes.
"Nick?" I said incredulously.