Son of Tesla

SON OF TESLA: Chapter 12

GILLIAN FLETCH MADE a quick mark on her clipboard and then softly closed the patient's door behind her. It was a quiet night at Bellevieu General Hospital, and after she made the decision to send the new RNA home early, the little emergency room staff had dwindled to a cozy three.

Tim Rollins, a heavyset black man in dark blue hospital scrubs, was manning the reception desk. The on-duty EMT, Shane Glazer, was sitting beside him. A deck of playing cards was spread between them amid a pile of empty candy wrappers, and both men were leaning over their hands, concentrating hard. Cold, sterile light from the overhead fluorescent panels washed over both of them, and every few seconds the light flickered as one of the bulbs briefly shorted out.

They looked up when Gillian Fletch walked through the trauma door at the back of the reception room. Both gave her a nod, and Shane favored her with a smile. Gillian smiled back. Shane was the newcomer to Belleviue General's little night staff, and he was cute.

"Just doing rounds, fellas," Gillian said. "As you were."

"Thank goodness," Tim said, a goofy smile spreading over his round face. "I thought you were coming in to give me more work."

Gillian laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it. You're clearly swamped"

Shane held up the playing cards fanned out in his hand. "I will be after Tim takes my paycheck tonight. Game keeps going like this, I'll be flipping burgers down at Chewies just to cover rent."

Gillian frowned. "You know the rules about gambling."

"He kids, he kids, Gilly Bean," Tim assured her, still smiling. "We're playing for trips to the vending machine. Loser buys the next round of Twix." His neck jiggled as he laughed, and Gillian decided not to ask if another chocolate bar was really what he needed.

"Where's Gale?" Gillian asked, referring to the hospital's night security guard. "I haven't seen him in at least ten minutes."

"Think he said something about hitting the upper levels," Shane said. "I don't get why we need an armed guard, though."

"New city ordinance. All the hospitals in the Apple've got 'em," said Tim.

"Yeah, but this far out?"

"Hey, rules are rules," said Tim, winking at Gillian. "Ain't that right, Gilly Bean."

The faulty fluorescent panel buzzed loudly and all three looked up at the sudden flicker.

"Wish someone would get that fixed," Tim murmered, eyes already back on his cards. "Gives me the creeps. Night of the living dead kinda vibe."

"Oooooh," Shane intoned in a low moan, extending a hand slowly toward Tim's face. "I vant your bloooood."

"Cut that crap out, man. I'm not kidding." Tim slapped Shane's hand away. "Your go."

"Do you have any seeeevens?" Shane asked, still mimicking a zombie.

"Go fish, Frankenstein."

"I think you guys have your monsters mixed up," Gillian said, watching them with a bemused expression.

"Ooooooh," they both said at once, and then cracked up. Gillian laughed with them.

"Idiots," she said, smiling. "Oh, Shane, I meant to ask–"

Before she could finish, a loud screech came from the parking lot, making all three of them jump. The overhead light flickered.

"What's that?" Tim asked, cards forgotten.

Gillian ran over to the glass-paned wall facing the empty emergency room parking lot. Two headlights sliced crazily through the dark.

"It's a car," she said.