Banished

10: Shock and Awe

"No one's really dead until the series finale. And even then it's debatable."

-The Completely Unauthorized Storymaker's Biography

10
Shock and Awe
Dorthea

"Ngn."
I yawned, but the inside of my mouth was so gummy and gross that I was sure someone had tried to glue it shut. I was so tired, which seemed counterintuitive since I was just waking up. I raised my arms to stretch, but I could barely raise my left. It was tethered. Restrained. My heart rate skyrocketed.
There was a quiet groan next to me.
Realizing I was not alone, my eyes shot open. The nurse practitioner sat beside my bed, hanging on to the IV pole so it didn't tip over with my squirming.
"Be still. It's almost done." She flicked the tube going into my arm to unkink it and restart the green liquid fire flowing into my veins. "I was hoping to be finished before you woke up, but I couldn't start until your new doctor calculated the new dose of treatment. And have you ever seen a doctor run on time?" The nurse shook her head and tsked. "No. I swear if Death came a calling for them, they'd stick him in a waiting room and tell him to cool his heels until he was called." She muttered something about self-important bleep-bleeps before remembering I was there. "You never mind I said that. It's all sorted, and you'll be feeling right as rain in no time."
"I hate the rain." The words simply popped out. I couldn't remember why that was important to me. Trying to sort out anything in my mind was like traversing through thick fog with no lighthouse. And it felt just as dangerous.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
John stood inside my door. "You still alive?"
"Seem to be," I said, miming checking my pulse. "Are you disappointed?"
With a shrug, he said, "I went to a lot of trouble to save you, so it would be an awful shame if you keeled over now."
He made it a foot inside the room before the nurse held out her hand. "Not another step, young man. This room is under controlled protocol. Medical personnel only. Unless you've got a medical degree lying around, you should keep scooting."
With on hand behind his back, he patted himself down with the other and then snapped his fingers. "Darn, I must have left it in my other pants."
"John," she said in warning.
He held up his hands in surrender. One of them held a small stuffed animal. "I'm going. I just wanted to leave this here. Catch." He tossed the gift from the door. It landed on my lap.
I picked up the stuffed animal, which was a small terrier toy with mangy brown fur. A mutt. I couldn't help it. I busted out laughing.
The nurse huffed. "Don't be rude. That was a very sweet gesture."
But there was no problem. John was laughing too.
"Oh, good," he said and chuckled. "I saw it and felt the same way."
The nurse looked back and forth between us two crazies. "I don't get it. Is this an inside joke?"
"Dunno," John said. "Maybe you said something about little beasts, or maybe it was something I saw on your walls. But I knew it would make you smile."
I stopped laughing and looked into his eyes seriously. "Really, thank you. It's perfect."
He held my gaze for a moment. "Don't mention it. You're making it weird."
I gasped because the nurse pulled out the IV from the port without warning. "All done," she said. "I'll turn on the TV for you on my way out." She pointed at John. "And you're coming with me."
"Yeah, yeah," he replied.
The screen on the wall flickered to life. Kansas City news at noon.
"...books completely destroyed." A news anchor seemed to be interviewing the head librarian. "It's bizarre. Perhaps it was a mold. One day the books were fine, and the next, dark spots started to appear across the pages. And those spots got worse every day."
"Can we see one of the damaged books?" the reporter asked.
"Of course." The librarian held out an older book. It looked decayed and withered. "This was in our collector's section. The first known collection of Grimm's fairy tales, handwritten by the brothers themselves. Not only is this a monetary loss, but a piece of history is now gone forever."
John and the nurse weren't paying attention, still bickering in the background, but the news story had my full attention. The book's cover was leather with a red quill engraved on the front. I'd held it often enough to know it well. The Book of Making.
The news reporter examined the book. "This truly is a mystery."
"It gets even stranger," the woman added as the anchor flipped through the book. "We've gone through all of our collections in the library for worry of how it would spread, but it seems that only certain sections are affected. The folklore, fantasy, and mythology section is a complete loss."
The camera panned to an entire bookcase of blackened, diseased books. I squinted to see better. Then I cried out in alarm. The spines of the tomes were not only damaged, but there was a thick swarm of glistening, black bugs scuttling out of the pages. They poured out of the book on the lectern.
"What? Are you okay?" John asked, pushing the nurse aside and rushing into the room.
I pointed to the TV. "The bugs."
John moved closer to the screen. "I don't see anything."
I pointed more urgently. "Can't you see them? They're all over the books. And oh Grimm, they're crawling all over that woman's arm!" I put my hands over my mouth to keep from gagging.
John came to my side. "There're no bugs. Just moldy books. The lady's arm is normal."
"No," I moaned, willing someone else to see what I could.
The nurse pushed John toward Bubba. "The doctor warned us this might happen. Take him out of here while I handle this." She shoved a small cup of the same sweet-smelling red liquid under my nose.
"No, I don't want-" She didn't care about consent. She tipped up the cup up the second my mouth opened. When I tried to spit out the thick liquid, she covered my mouth and held my nose.
I fought to hold out, but eventually, I ran out of air. I coughed and sputtered as the nurse moved her hand.
"See, that wasn't worth putting up all the fuss. You'll feel better soon," she said.
Lies, I thought as I dropped out of consciousness again.
• • •