Chapter Sixteen Cardio, Crisis, Catastrophe
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Things started going well at home.
Over the next few days, Brie and Cameron settled into a routine. He woke up before her alarm could start screaming and woke her gently instead, sitting on the bed beside her and stroking her hair. She’d get ready for work, and he’d head down to the living room to send his father a report about anything new that might be happening. Apparently, her case was still being discussed amongst the Elysian council. The elders couldn’t decide whether deploying a team of Elysian guards was within their purview, or if it was worth the risk of exposing their community to the human realm.
Brie got used to greeting Ephriam, and an unlikely, nonverbal friendship started to form. She’d ask him about Cameron’s most embarrassing childhood moments. He’d twinkle and glow in reply, and she would pretend to understand him perfectly. Whatever he was saying was enough to turn Cameron’s ears bright red. He’d inevitably cut off their conversation with a snappish, “That’s certainly enough of that!” or, “Whatever happened to loyalty between comrades in arms?” or, “That was one time. She said it was the custom of her people, and it would be disrespectful not to.”
Ephriam would twinkle with laughter and disappear back to Elysium to give his report. Brie and Cameron would head off to a local café. She would get her standard cappuccino and croissant to go, as he worked his way through the menu in an ecstatic exploration of the culinary universe. The only thing that disappointed him was cottage cheese, which seemed to be a textural issue. Tastes, smells, and sensations delighted him. She found herself appreciating things she’d taken for granted her whole life. He hadn’t tried chocolate yet. She thought it best to check that one off the list in private, for fear his reaction might get them banned from the establishment.
Just knowing he had faith in her decision to stay the course in Virginia gave her a courage of conviction she’d been lacking ever since her attack in the woods. Her doubts about whether she should have left home in the first place had been replaced by a confidence and determination she hadn’t felt in many years.
When she got home at night, the two of them would sit together and talk about her day and about his world and all the fantastical things he’d seen. Despite his fascinating tales of Elysium, it was the human world that interested him most, the one he’d been ripped away from before he could pull in that first breath. He was endlessly interested in her life — every detail, every memory.
She found herself remembering long-forgotten events, things that had slipped through the cracks of time. She managed to recall conversations with her mother that had lain buried in her mind for years. She remembered the first song she learned to whistle, the first time she played in snow.
One such evening, as he was rifling through an old book she’d bought at a flea market in college, he started humming a quiet melody under his breath. In all likelihood, he didn’t realize he was doing it, but she froze where she stood and stared at him, the flicker of deep memory stirring inside her heart. After a few seconds, she started humming along with him.
After a few more seconds, she sat down beside him and took his hands. “My mother,” she murmured, her eyes shining. “My mother used to sing that to me. I couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. She’d sing it every night before I fell asleep.” She stared at him. “How did you know? How could you possibly have known?”
He gazed down at their entwined hands. “You hummed it last night in your sleep.”
She considered this a moment, then peered up at him. “You watched me sleep?”
He blushed faintly and shifted away from her, back to the books. “Old habits die hard.”
? ? ?
Brie was flying through her orientation. She spent her days diligently making her rounds, caring for her patients, and her evenings charting with Rashida. It felt as though she worked a lifetime every shift, then spent hours charting to recap every single detail each night. Denise had even given her a grunt of approval on several occasions. Sherry started to join her when their breaks coincided. Brie carefully avoided so much as looking at the cold storage lockers.
The one thing she couldn’t manage to do was keep an eye on Dr. Matthews. He scuttled around the hospital like a cockroach, keeping to himself whenever possible, and just like the repulsive insect, he tended to scatter when exposed to light or human contact. She’d initially thought it would be easy enough to keep tabs on him, given all the access and information afforded her in the nurses’ station. Still, he never seemed to be where he was supposed to be. Try as she might, she never got a chance to speak with him or observe him while staying unobserved herself.
She did, however, learn a great deal about him secondhand, just from listening to her colleagues. Doctors, nurses, and staff members alike seemed to loathe his very presence. He was a diminutive man, easily overlooked, so he’d developed a nasty habit of announcing his arrival in a room with a colicky throat-clearing noise that seemed to universally set people’s teeth on edge. So did his high laugh, like a mouse skittering over a keyboard, a sound that always came at the most inappropriate times and usually at someone else’s expense. His bedside manner was nonexistent, as was his relationship with his coworkers.
But the worst thing about him was undoubtedly his deplorable patient outcomes. His nickname, Dr. Death, was well-merited. Brie didn’t think it was a lack of intelligence or skill on his part that led to his high patient mortality rate. She could swear it was almost like he wanted some of his patients to die. He was always slow to show up and quick to call time of death.
Then there was his bizarre habit of coming back to skulk around the bodies after they’d been pronounced deceased before they were taken away to the morgue. Once, she walked in on him as he was leaving, carrying that oddly shaped black case he’d been given by the mysterious blonde. Before she had a chance to hail him down or ask what he’d been doing, he was gone. Nothing looked amiss in the patient’s room after he left. Their body lay resting with a sheet respectfully pulled up over their head. But Brie could never shake the feeling something evil had just occurred.
She didn’t see the blonde woman again.
She heard no mention of a child.
? ? ?
On Friday night, Sherry caught up with her on her way down to the morgue.
“Are you excited for tomorrow?”
Brie blanked.
It isn’t her birthday… It isn’t Elizabeth Taylor’s birthday… It isn’t Shark Week… Is it the anniversary of the time we TP’d the principal’s house? No, that’s next month…
“Shopping, darling. Honestly, sometimes I worry about your priorities.”
Shopping. Right.
So much had happened in the last few days, so many invisible traumas and supernatural revelations, their agreement to make weekend plans seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Right. Yes, I totally remembered.”
Sherry rolled her eyes. “Very convincing. I suppose you also forgot about our exercise date tomorrow morning.”
“I most certainly did not. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Ha. I’m not,” Sherry declared. “Regardless, I’ll come by to pick you up in the morning, bright and early, so make sure you aren’t in the middle of any indecent shenanigans.”
“Says the woman whose date nights routinely involve handcuffs.”
They stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement. Sherry regarded her with a curious frown. “How’s it going with you two, anyway?”
There was a quiet pause.
“I don’t really know how it’s going,” Brie admitted. “Or where it’s going. Or if it’s going. But he gets me in a way I never thought possible. I can be myself with him in a way I’ve never known.”
She opened her mouth to say something further, then bowed her head in defeat.
“Oh, honey.” Sherry wrapped an arm around her waist. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Truth be told, I don’t know why you’re upset at all. Those are great things you just said.”
“Yeah, no, they are.” Brie nodded quickly, surprised at how quickly the simple question had unraveled her. “He just… keeps himself at a distance. Do you know what I mean?”
A divine distance. One that comes with heavenly repercussions if you dare to cross those lines.
Sherry nodded wisely. “The age-old problem. These guys would fight a puma with their bare hands, but when it comes to relationships, they’re afraid to commit. I blame it on increased lead in the water supply.”
The elevator doors opened, and they headed towards the morgue, only to be stopped in their tracks by the sound of raised voices — one patient, the other filled with rage.
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing there.”
“That’s impossible!”
“Then you find something.”
The two women shared a glance, frozen in the middle of the hall. It was easy to recognize the strained, patient voice as Rashida’s. The other had a distinctively bureaucratic edge.
“This young man’s family is a huge donor. The east wing of the hospital is named after them. I can’t go back to his grieving parents and say we have no idea what happened to their son.”
“This is what I’ve been telling you for months. There’s no reason he should be dead. No family history, no underlying condition, no architectural deformity, no disease, no history of addiction, no foreign substances in his blood, no external trauma.”
There was a momentary pause as Rashida caught her breath. “There’s nothing wrong with him, except his heart’s been pulverized. From inside his chest.”
Papers rustled, and shoes squeaked against the floor.
“Well, that’s just unacceptable.”
“I don’t disagree at all. But it’s what’s happening. And I’m telling you, I think it’s tied to all these unexplained ODs. In some of the cases, it’s clearly poison, but with no poison in their system at all. In others, it’s as if their heart merely explodes.”
There was the sound of someone pacing.
“You tell me what you need, Ms. Botha. Money, equipment, anything. I’ll tell the family our investigation is ongoing. But Ida,” his voice was almost pleading, “you have to find something.”
The woman sighed heavily. “I’ll rerun my tests. Again.”
“Keep me informed.”
The door opened, and a hospital administrator Brie had never seen before walked out. He was an enormous individual — at least three hundred pounds of anxiety in an expensive suit. He very nearly bowled them over before he realized there was anyone else there.
“Ladies,” he said curtly, before heading towards the elevator.
Brie and Sherry looked at each other and ducked inside the morgue.
There were no visible signs of carnage. No disciplinary notifications or committee censures strewn across the floor. There was just one overtired, overworked pathologist, staring at her computer like she was trying to translate the Code of Hammurabi.
“Hey there,” said Brie tentatively. “We brought sandwiches.”
Rashida didn’t move for a second, still in her trance, but finally slowly turned her head to look at them. “Oh, hi,” she said in a beleaguered tone. “Thanks.” She accepted a veggie sub and set it down without unwrapping it, obviously on autopilot, staring into space but seeing nothing.
Sherry caught Brie’s eye and tilted her head towards the door.
Brie nodded slightly but hesitated to leave. “Ida, if this is a bad time, we can always—”
“No, no, you’re fine. I’m sorry you had to hear that. I just…” She trailed off hopelessly. “It keeps happening. I don’t know why it isn’t making the news at this point. At first, it was just a few cases every once in a while, but now? Two or three times a week, someone lies on my table who should not be there. And I don’t know how to diagnose what happened to them, so I don’t know how to help.”
She pushed the sandwich away, defeated. “I don’t usually let cases get to me. No point, you know? It’s already happened; there’s nothing I can do but bring closure to the families. But now, not only can I not do that, but every day that goes by, this happens to more and more people. Maybe if I could get to them earlier, I could help, but by the time they get to me, whatever evidence exists inside these poor people is gone. Or if it’s there, it’s beyond my skill to find.” She hung her head in dismay.
Brie had no idea what to say, but luckily, Sherry did.
She crossed over to Rashida’s side of the table and took her firmly by the shoulders. “Would you like to watch a bunch of hot guys play soccer with us this weekend?”
? ? ?
That night, Brie brought home a pizza.
Perhaps her body was craving an infusion of burnt cheese and grease. Perhaps she wanted a momentary distraction, watching her angel delight in the newest “culinary masterpiece” for the first time. She waited until he’d stopped making his rapturous noises before telling him about the incident in the morgue.
He listened intently and considered his words carefully before answering. “I understand your concern and that of your friend. I’m sorry for it. But isn’t it likely this is simply a new drug that the police and medical community are not yet aware of?”
She grabbed another piece of pizza and absentmindedly picked off the olives. “I guess so, but the way she was talking about it? The frequency and intensity of it? It didn’t sound natural to me. And with all the other supernatural stuff going on, I guess I was just wondering if you’d heard anything. You know, on your end. From your people. It’s kind of their area, isn’t it?”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose it might be, though I’m sure I would have heard something already. I can put the word out in the morning, just to make sure.”
She remained quiet for a moment, then said, “She made it sound like it was some kind of plague.”
The pizza halted on the way to his lips. “Say that again?” he asked sharply.
“Rashida made it sound like it was some kind of plague.”
His eyes went dark, and he put down his slice. “If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. I’ve seen plagues, Brianna, and that can’t be what’s happening here. For one thing, during a plague, there are particular, powerful players involved who most certainly aren’t here. For another, that’s the kind of thing you can’t keep quiet. Not in your world, nor in mine.”
She regarded him thoughtfully. “So, you’ve seen real plagues, is what you mean.”
“I have.”
“Is it bad form if I ask you about it?”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “It’s panic, isolation, fear. The suffering is enormous. A war raging in another realm causes immeasurable collateral suffering in this one. By the end, everyone has lost someone. Some people have lost everyone.” He glanced at her. “It isn’t like that now, is it?”
She shook her head and looked out the window at the rising moon. “You’re right. I guess the way she phrased it just threw me is all.”
He nodded his head slightly. “Olive juice.”
She whirled around, eyes bright and wide. “Excuse me?”
“Olive juice. It’s dripping off your plate.”
She stared a moment, then snatched up a napkin. “Right — yes. Thanks.”
He looked at her, confused. “What did you think I said?”
She pretended she hadn’t heard, crossing towards the television and kneeling down beside an old box of DVDs she’d yet to unpack. She riffled through them, then pulled one up with a sudden mischievous grin. “Let’s watch this one tonight.”
He caught the box when she threw it, staring down with a little frown. “Is it meant to be grammatically incorrect?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
He waved the picture in confusion. “‘ I ain’t afraid of no ghost?’ ”
? ? ?
An hour later, the angel’s mood had soured significantly.
“Well, I must say, this is highly offensive, Brianna,” he huffed. “ Highly offensive. If this is how humans regard those who have passed on to the next realms, it’s no wonder my people have strict rules about our concealment. There’s a particular disregard for the sanctity of memory, not to mention that confusing bit with the giant snowman. Why was he in a naval uniform? Quite frankly, I think…” He trailed into silence. “Brianna?”
She had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, lips slightly parted like a child.
He let out an exasperated sigh and smiled despite himself. He shifted the pizza boxes away with his foot before turning off the television with a flick of his fingers. A blanket shimmered its way into existence, and he covered her, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Goodnight, Brianna.”
He circled his arms around her and settled in for yet another night — watching her sleep, counting her heartbeats, curious to hear in the morning what that maddening mind of hers decided to dream tonight.
It was the most remarkable thing, though. He felt tired. He’d allowed himself the luxury of sleep on occasion, of course. But he’d never felt tired before.
It was all the human food and activity, no doubt. It must be wearing off on him. It was only a temporary lapse, probably all in his head. Perhaps he’d shut his eyes, just for a moment.
Within that moment, he drifted off to sleep himself.
? ? ?
“Well, isn’t this just adorable?”
Brie and Cameron woke with a start. Sherry was standing before them, and a camera flash went off in their eyes before they even had a chance to disentangle themselves.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Sherry…”
Sherry looked at the photo and let out a hoot of laughter. “It’s terrible. I’m having it framed.”
She pointed her phone at Brie like a sword. “You, madame, are late for our exercise date. And you, sir,” she pointed at Cameron, “have surely been the one to drive her to such distraction. Up! Up with you both. Brie, I cannot believe you’re putting me in the position to be the one to enforce cardio. Who even am I? Where are we?”
With that, she proceeded to swoop around the house, opening curtains and flooding the place with light.
Brie squinted and staggered to her feet. At a glance, everything was as it should be, given the celestial impossibility of having fallen asleep with an angel on her couch. It wasn’t until her eyes settled into focus, that she realized something was wrong.
“What are you wearing?”
“What, this?” Sherry glanced down at her terrifically oversized Hello Kitty T-shirt and skin-tight, fur-trimmed, leopard-print yoga pants. She held her head at an imperious angle, nose in the air. “Spandex is a right, not a privilege, Brianna. If you must know, I am disinclined to keep my curves to myself. And how dare you question my stylistic choices? The nerve! That’ll be fifty extra push-ups for you.”
“I wasn’t… I can’t even do fifty push-ups.”
“Well, five then. Up! Up! We’re burning daylight.”
Sherry power walked into the kitchen to fill a thermos with water as Brie groaned and turned to Cameron, who was making no effort to stifle his grin. “Can’t you freeze-ray her or something?”
“Actually, I think it might be best if you get out of here before I’m summoned to check in with my father.”
Brie’s eyes flew wide open, and she rushed to the bedroom to get ready. “Five minutes! Give me five minutes. Oh, shi—”
There was a distant crash.
Sherry never looked up from the sink. “Darling, we’ve talked about this. Walk first, undress later. Remember what happened with the penguins.”
Cameron’s eyes flashed at her curiously. “What happened with the penguins?”
Sherry squinted at him. “I’m fond of you, Cameron, but don’t get it twisted. We’re not that close yet.”
? ? ?
“Why did I ever let you talk me into this in the first place?”
Sherry clutched her side and glared daggers as Brie jogged in place a few paces ahead, armed with a wicked grin.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Weldon. This is attempted murder, and it isn’t funny.”
“You came and woke me up, remember? You were rather insistent.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sherry groaned loudly and arched her back in a stretch. They were down near the waterfront, passing rows of homes newly restored to look historically old. A cool breeze off the ocean whispered over their skin, cutting through the heat of the cloudless day.
Sherry windmilled her arms around before giving up again and doubling over at the waist, panting at the asphalt.
Brie walked back to her. “Are you alright?”
“Of course I am.” Sherry glared at her presumption. “I’m not going to let a little thing like exercise-induced cardiac arrest get the best of me.”
Brie knelt down and caught her eye. “You know, I read this study that said that walking is every bit as effective as running so long as you don’t stop very often.”
Sherry lifted her head in hope. “Really?”
“Really.”
“ Well then.” Abruptly cheerful, Sherry straightened up and squared her shoulders. “Let’s get a move on, soldier. I don’t know why you always insist on these breaks.”
Brie grinned and fell into step beside her. “How’s it going with you and Mike?” she asked, wiping sweat from her brow.
Sherry beamed. “Fantastic. He’s not like the other boys I’ve dated, Brie. I mean, physically, sure, he fits the bill for what I’m looking for. Every inch of him.” She gave her friend a significant look. “ Every inch. But beyond that, he’s steady, honest, and hardworking.”
Brie bit her lip to hide her amusement. “That doesn’t sound like your type at all.”
“It isn’t. Remember Austin?”
“Was he the perpetually out-of-work actor who worshiped you as his muse?”
“Got old so fast. And Remond?”
“The bodybuilder?” Brie asked with a laugh. “Everyone on the west side of Atlanta remembers Remond. When you broke up, he stayed in your driveway doing sit-ups for two days to win you back. It made the local news. It attracted the local strays. I thought he might move into the woods behind your house and learn to live off squirrel meat and unrequited love.”
“Poor lost soul.” Sherry sighed, staring nostalgically into the distance. “I had to get a restraining order just to avoid his abs.”
Brie stole a glance at her. “Well, I’m happy you’ve found someone who seems to fit your evolving taste. No one deserves it more than you.”
“Except maybe you,” Sherry replied lightly. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to make the same mistake two days in a row and ask how it’s going with—”
“I think I’m falling for him.”
Sherry gasped and grabbed her arm. “Really? That’s huge!”
“Don’t get too excited. We still haven’t—”
That’s when they heard the scream.