Without Incident [Wattys2016]

03.

After dropping Hayden back home and getting off the phone with his parents, Mason hung around Beacon Hills Memorial with me, Corey in tow. Doctors and nurses hustled past us as we lounged uncomfortably in a row of plastic chairs. I curled my lip at the smell of their white coats and scrubs.

“Why are we still here?” Corey said, sagging against a wall. I half expected him to disappear into it.

Mason and I looked at him sideways, forcing him to double back.

“I didn’t mean it like that— it’s just—actually, yeah. What are we still doing here? He’s fine; we know he’ll be fine. What are we waiting around for?”

I blew out a quick breath. “I hate being here just as much as you. But I need to be sure of something.”

I needed to be sure we weren’t dealing with a problem with fangs and claws.

“You don’t think—” Mason cut himself off, narrowing his eyes at me. He was working on something, the cogs in his brain whirring. “The universe isn’t that cruel, right? Here I was thinking we had dealt with all the crazies.”

“Things were good,” Corey said under his breath. “Quiet.”

Mason looked up at Corey from the dark frame of his eyelashes, his expression pitying.

“That’s the problem, Core. It was our own fault for getting too comfortable.”

“We’ve had this many days without incident so far,” I quickly amended. “Maybe we’re just being paranoid. Calm down.”

“Hey you were thinking it first,” he countered.

“But you said it,” I shot back childishly.

“Either way we need to get in that room. We get in, check for marks, and then we get out.”

“And then what—”

“Boys?” A deep voice boomed behind me. We all jumped back, whirling as my step dad walked up with his lab coat flapping after him. I stood on my feet, nervously clenching my fists. “Wherever there’s trouble you aren’t too far behind, huh?”

“Well, sir, you know what they say—where there’s smoke…” I brought my heel down on Corey’s toes before he could say anything else. He choked off into a strangled whimper.

My step dad rolled his shoulders, scratching the stubble on his chin. “Word spreads fast. It’s a great feeling, finding out from a colleague that your son was in a car accident.”

“Dad, no. It’s not even like that. I know I should have hit you up sooner but I figured you were on call—”

“Relax. Are you all okay?” He asked to which we all stared at him, mouths gaping. “What? Were you expecting me to lay into you?”

He looked my way as if to say he still had some words for me when he got home. When he asked us what happened we all started in at once, speaking over one another, filling in gaps with endless noise on top of noise.

“Whoa. Maybe you all should be heading home. It’s late, there’s nothing else you can do here.”

Corey and Mason seemed to sigh in defeat as someone caught my eye. A mane of messy brown curls framing her haggard face, Melissa McCall rounded the corner.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to Ms. McCall…about a thing,” I said, trying to wave her down. I excused myself, jogging after the older woman. She had a charming way about her but the look that she threw me when I grabbed her arm underlined just how much of that was a mask for her maternal ferocity.

“Ms. McCall, I need your help.”

“Isn’t that always the case?”

The last time I had seen her she had threatened to body me and put me in the morgue for nearly killing her son Scott. Her trust was hard won.

“What’s this about, Liam?”

“There’s a guy that was involved in a traffic accident that was just admitted to this floor. We kind of hit him with our car.” My voice raised an octave as she stared at me with unguarded disbelief. I rushed on. “He was conscious long enough to babble on about something that had attacked him before he ran out into the middle of the road. You know the kind of thing I’m talking about. We need to get into his room and check him for bite marks or scratches. I need you to make a window for us, get my dad out of the way.

Looking me up and down, after a long pause, she said, “The things I do for you kids.”

She turned on her heel, marching right up to my dad, pretending to look winded. “Dr. Geyer I’ve been looking all over for you. Dr. Messa needs you on the second floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you know how he gets when people keep him waiting. I would just get it over with, see what he wants.”

“Alright,” he said but he sounded doubtful. He started off in the opposite direction toward the elevators, eyes trained on us. “Go home, all of you.”

Scott’s mom hooked a finger at us.  “Five minutes.”

She escorted us down the hall, pointing us in the right direction and giving us the room number. Not wanting to risk getting caught sneaking three teenagers into a place they didn't belong, Ms.McCall left us to do our thing.

Turning my thoughts to a rampant inner dialogue, I had almost forgotten to look where I was going. I bumped into a large guy in a worn trench coat, colliding with him so hard I nearly got whiplash.

Righting myself I said, “My bad, dude.”

The guy excused himself, waving a dismissive hand as he muttered something in a language that was decidedly not English.

My skin felt electrified, the hairs on my arms standing on end.

Mason nudged me along as I snapped back, remembering our mission.

I faltered at the door, hand resting on the cold metal handle. Exhaling, I pushed it open enough for me and the other boys to slip quietly through.

I expected to see the man of the hour hooked up to whirring machines. I expected a body in a bed. I expected to be confronted with the anxiety of two options. Instead, I was given one.

Instead, we found ourselves staring at red stained pillows and torn bed sheets.  A pair of bloody footprints led to an open window.

Unable to hold my outburst in, I cussed loudly enough to bring a nurse or two running. Mason raised his eyebrows at me, a matter-of-fact kind of smugness coloring his expression.

“What was that you were saying about days without incident?”