Nora Stevenson

Chapter Eight

"Hey, bud! How are--" I am interrupted by a bizarre noise, that of a goose being strangled. "Alright, then," I mutter to myself. I pass the bed from which the hideous snoring erupts.
    Flouncing across the far wall, I yank the ugly hospital curtains open, allowing blinding daylight to filter in.
    The strangled goose wakes up. "Daaaang, that's bright," moans a drowsy Liam. "What are you even doing? I like it dark."
    I turn to face him, perky with adrenaline. "You're going to break out of the hospital."
    Liam nearly chokes on a sip of water. "I'm what?"
    "I'm breaking you out! You're going to be free!" I take my phone from my back pocket and look at the stalker pictures I'd taken of the hospital staff over the past week.
    Liam grimaces. "You do realize I was in a very serious car accident."
    "Indeed, I do."
    "I sustained spinal injury and a concussion."
    "Yep."
    "And you're going to break me out of the hospital?"
    "Mmhm."
    "Okay." Liam inclines his bed and stares at me expectantly. "So, what's the plan?"
I open the notes on my phone and hand the device to him. I watch, excited, as his eyes scan the screen. He scoffs. "Are you serious?"
    I frown. "What do you mean?"
    "Nora, you have a list of doctors on here that you could impersonate." He looks at me, his eyes pleading. "Can't you be the hot one?" Rolling my eyes, I snatch my phone out of his hand.
    "And who would that be?" I glare at him.
    His eyes sparkle as he begins to describe his latest crush. "Her name is Dr. Alison Kent. Her hair is like yours except she wears it down. And her smile! Oh, and get this – she's British."
    My face maintains a deadpan nonchalance and I say in monotone, "Fine. I'll be Dr. Kent. Where is she; do you know? I'd need to swipe her nametag."
    "Oh, she's not here right now, she comes for night shift. But her stuff is in the front office. It's just a matter of getting the receptionist out of there so you can get her stuff." Without warning, Liam begins to heave himself out of bed.
    "Woah, woah, woah! What are you doing?"
    He flashes the crooked smile I love and collapses into the wheelchair beside his bed. "Well, someone has to distract Sharon."

    I hang back in Liam's room while he wheels himself to the receptionist's desk. I scoff as he pulls out the charm. I hear Sharon laugh giddily and agree to take him somewhere. Scrunching beside the door, I catch a glimpse of Liam bugging his eyes out as he passes with the woman.
    After assuring myself that they are out of earshot, I slip out into the hall, darting across it like a deer in the headlights. Scrambling to collect Dr. Kent's things, I sort through the mountain of clipboards and piles of coats.
    At last, I find the materials I've been looking for. Sweating nervously, I yank the hair tie out of my medium length blonde hair and smooth it out in the reflection of my phone screen. I take a breath and pull on the white coat, hang a stethoscope around my neck, and grab the clipboard. This should be good enough for now.
    Adequately prepared, I head back to Liam's room and wait, hidden behind the wall. The clock ticks with monotonous, bland rhythm. Oh, for God's sake, hurry up! I roll my eyes as I hear Liam return, flirting with the receptionist. Disgusting.
    Sharon deposits his wheelchair outside his room, 307, and bustles back to her desk. Liam rolls himself in, smirking. "I've still got it," he remarks.
    "Shut up." I present myself to him as the apparently hot Dr. Kent. Liam's chair swivels to face me, and his eyes widen just a tad.
    "Dang."
    I roll my eyes at him and attempt a British accent. "Keep it shut, loser." He snorts and rolls his chair towards me.
    "What's the plan?"
    I take in a deep breath and give him the low-down. "Here's how it's going to go. I'll wheel you out into the hall as Doctor Kent, and if anyone asks, I'm making up a shift that I lost last week. I'll sign you out on the discharge sheet, and then we'll just roll into freedom."
    Liam considers my concocted plan and nods, giving his consent. "Let's go, then."
    I take a second to get into character, then grab his wheelchair by the handles and push him out to the hallway. I nod to another doctor crossing in front of us and make for the desk. Sharon has returned, so I request the papers in my best British accent. Pretty good, I dare say.
    I then incoherently scribble the name, Dr. Allison Kent. Cheeks flaming and desperate to leave the hospital, I wheel Liam's chair outside through the smudged glass automatic doors.
    "Woah," I groan, hit by the sun's blinding light. I'd forgotten it was noon. Liam shields his eyes and I squint as we make our way toward the taxi waiting for us in the parking lot. Greeting the cab driver, I help my friend into the car, then push the wheelchair back to the hospital entrance. I jog back across the pavement and climb in the opposite side of the car. "Hi," I say breathlessly. "Nearest hotel, please."
    The cabbie nods and the car jolts forward as he exits the parking lot. "Oh," I add, "preferably a nice hotel that isn't too expensive." I recall with a shudder our tragic experience at the dilapidated Sunnyside Up Motel.
    Taking a deep breath, I turn to Liam. "You okay?" I ask, wondering if he's in any pain. No reply. I snort softly when I realize that he has already fallen asleep, his cheek squished against the window. I gaze at the buildings whizzing past me, my mind already brooding about what my next step should be.