The Skylar Experiment : Dead Ending (second draft)

Chapter Fifty-Four - Diagnosis

RILEY

HEATHER STOPPED AT THE FOOT of the stretcher. I waited for the verdict, grasping the coverlet tightly. Cunning eyes flitted between me and Luc, and I hoped that I didn't appear as shaken as I felt. Luc's hair was messed up by my fault. His chest heaved as he dragged in long breaths. She noticed it while he distanced himself from us, avoiding her gaze. 

Heather cleared her throat and turned to me. 

"Want to start by the good news or the bad news?" 

"Good," I chose instantly. 

"Well, good one is that you'll be fine eventually. It is, in fact, mercury poisoning, and I've treated this before." She let me exhale to flush out the tension. I was going to be fine, and hearing this took a load off my shoulders. "Actually, your mercury levels are lower than what I've encountered in the past, but your condition has complications because of the overlapping fever." 

I fiddled with the hem of the coverlet again. "But my fever's okay. It's... not that bad."

"Not yet," Luc interjected in the corner. Everything he'd let show seconds earlier was gone, and he melted into a cooler stance, no longer carried away. "It'll reach an all-time high soon, then come back down. I've seen people do freaky stuff at that temperature. Ben mistook a car door for a frisbee and tried to throw it, once."

I imagined a musclebound, shorter version of Ben, delirious with fever, ripping off a door and thinking it was a toy. Mother of God... 

"I know because I caught it seconds before it chopped my head off." He smiled like it was a disturbing but fond memory. 

Heather tsked and tapped the edge of her clipboard with a nail. "You don't have to scare her. I was going to get to the bad news. Look—Riley, it won't be pretty. We need the mercury levels to drop so that your bullet wound heals properly, and I hope that it'll be gone by the time the fever hits full-force. I'm confident it'll all work itself out, but your body is still going to try to vomit out the toxins. It's how it naturally eliminates them from your system, and that's what may also trigger seizures. There's dialysis as an option to speed things up, but it means staying longer at the hospital."

I absorbed the news, and already I knew that I wanted to leave as soon as possible. If I was going to heal one way or another, why mould in this room? 

"And if I decide no dialysis?" I asked. 

"You can be discharged now. If there are no more tests to conduct and we have a plan, I'll just let things follow their natural course, as long as you call should anything change. At least you'll be comfortable at home. Is that what you want?" 

"Yeah!" I gushed out of impulse, and felt stupid. I looked over at Luc, and his eyes were unreadable. "If... that's alright."

His eyes sharpened, standing out against the blue background. "I have a change of clothes in the car in case this happened. I'll go get it."

He pivoted on his heels and sidled past the curtain, disappearing on the other side. I was left alone with Heather, and I swallowed. Rather than talking, she stepped closer to the bed, laying a hand on the single upraised latch. 

She clicked it down and pressed a button to elevate the gurney. 

"I'll check your injury one last time to make sure the stitches are fine. If they rip at home, since it's not healing under there yet, you could bleed out again." 

I allowed her to lift the sheet and push up the dress' hemline until she uncovered the bandage. Skillful fingers unwrapped it. She leaned in with her lips pressed together, a wrinkle etched in her forehead. For a while, I didn't know what to say or where to start. But it seemed so ungrateful to stay silent while she assessed my health. I almost chickened out until Heather released her hold and began to move away.