Traffic (Complete two-hundred pages) (Moving to Kindle Vella in 30 Days! )

24

NURSE

"SHE'S NOT IN YOUR SYSTEM?" said Jack. His voice was solid.

The security officer was silent but still watching Jack.

And the nurse eyed Jack like she had no clue why he would question her. "I'm looking at our charts right here, sir."

"Oh you are? May I see?"

"Step away from the counter, sir."

"Sir," the security guard imposed. "Lower your voice." He had his hand out, not yet touching the gun at his hip. Jack knew if he weren't white this would be a more violent situation.

"It's late," said Jack, calmly, sanely, as friendly as he could muster--smiling with the fakest smile he could chuck at their faces-- "I just thought maybe you'd been here for hours and you might need a fresh pair of eyes to read the monitor."

"No thank you, sir, my eyes are still working fine." The nurse was suddenly royally pissed off.

"Then check again."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Check again."

"I've already done that--"

Jack leaned his face in. His eyes reflecting the hot ceiling lights on her lying restless face.

"Check again."

The woman was dumbfounded. Frozen. But not complying. The air was crisp and dry like the desert, and at that moment both she and Jack looked over at the pointed gun in the security guard's hand.

"I'm going to need you to step away from the counter and leave this hospital immediately, sir." The security guard's hands was shaking slightly. Either the coffee or perhaps he'd never had to draw a gun on a man in the hospital before. He was just a security guard after all. But no, Jack thought, the reason this man's hand was shaking was with all that power in his hand he had no justice to back it up. He'd pulled a gun before. But he wasn't good at enforcing a lie. He believed in justice. And this was not it. Justice would be escorting him to see Penelope. This was not it.

But Jack decided not to move. Or he couldn't move. He was too busy trying to rip the man's head off his neck with his yet unrealized psychic abilities. . .

"It's okay, Rodolfo. I'll check again," said the nurse, feigning compromise. Next comes the humility and flattery. "This man's right, maybe my eyes deceive me. Heaven knows they begin to play tricks at this hour."

The security guard replaced his gun at his hip. His face red. He eyed Jack sternly.

The nurse typed more slowly this time. She took her time to either make her search seem authentic and careful, or perhaps she was actually checking this time. Once her eyes scrolled down to the bottom of the screen, she scrunched her lips and looked up at Jack to no avail. "Oh--" then she looked back at the screen. "Looks like she was here after all. But she was discharged earlier this afternoon. Must not have been on my shift."

This reaction was a surprise to Jack. And was a huge nightmare if it were true. "She left?!"

"Penelope Ramirez was discharged at 1pm today," she read.

Jack failed the first three attempts to mutter a word. "She couldn't have left by herself!"

"No, of course not," said the nurse.

"Who took her?" demanded Jack.

"I'm afraid that's confidential."

"She's my girlfriend!" said Jack quite authentically, he would've thought, "I was suppose to discharge with her."

"I'm sorry, sir--"

"You need to tell me who took her-- or else her life's at stake." His voice echoed around the room like an empty amphitheater. "So tell me now!"

The guard looked to the nurse awaiting her signal to arrest this man. But the nurse's chest was heaving in and out from the stress of the situation and finally came to a conclusion, "Her mother."