Addison sat on the couch, his legs sprawled over a nearby coffee table. Despite the fact that he’d torn off all his clothes, a large sweat stain had formed on the couch around him. He’d turned on the TV in a desperate attempt to distract himself, but it wasn’t working.
Thoughts of the cult leader and the Great Being swirled around in his mind and pumped adrenaline through his body. Even though he knew he was too weak to make any sudden moves, he felt as though he would shoot through the ceiling if anyone so much as knocked on the door.
A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead, fell off his eyelid, and splashed onto his lip. He licked it away.
On TV, the evening newscast began. Addison’s parents always watched the news in the evening, and it comforted him to do the same, even if the news wasn’t always good. He tilted his head to the side to listen in.
“Our top story of the night concerns the recently-discovered ‘fire disease,’” said the same blond anchor that Addison had seen during his shift. Addison perked up ever-so-slightly. Maybe there would be some good news.
“As we reported earlier, Elaine Hastings is still missing. We heard that police have found what may be her ashes near the Monastery Woods, but these are unconfirmed reports. There is also a rumor that a cult is behind her disappearance and the potential spreading of the fire disease.” A faint fire burned in the anchor’s eyes. “We sincerely hope this is not the case.”
“In other news about the fire disease, doctors are working hard at developing a cure and preventative measures for the new illness. Surgeons and disease specialists at St. Newbury’s Hospital are among the first to present an experimental drug that could help alleviate symptoms of the disease. The drug is still in development, but early tests in mice show that it could be beneficial. Any human sufferers are urged to apply for testing.”
Addison didn’t hear anything else that the anchor said. An experimental drug. Maybe he could get out of this alive. Even if the drug killed him, he thought, it might still be better than living in the shadow of this cult and a disease he knew nothing about. He could think of no better option. St. Newbury’s was right down the road, too; if the cult leader really was bluffing about being able to track him through Facebook, maybe he could get in, get the drug, and get out before anyone knew any better. For the first time since he’d gotten home, he threw on some clothes, wrapped a towel around his sweaty head, and marched out the door. It was time to fight back.
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Though the hospital was only a few minutes down the road, it seemed like an eternity to Addison. The sun had gone down, but there were enough cars on the road that their combined heat only made him feel worse. He turned up the music, then turned it down, then turned it up again. His leg pushed restlessly on the accelerator. He passed a car on the side of the road that had burst into flames. He swallowed.
When at last he had reached St. Newbury’s, he turned into the parking lot on two wheels and headed for the emergency room. The steering wheel of his car was glazed with sweat. His heart pounded far too quickly as he found an open parking spot and turned off the ignition. He sat for a second, gathering up his strength and resolve. Even if the cult leader was here, Addison reasoned, hospitals are protected spaces. There’s nothing he could do here to harm me. I have to try it. He opened the car door and swung his legs to the side, heaving himself off the seat.
He limped halfheartedly to the automatic door. He could feel the air blowing from a vent above him as he stepped across the threshold, but it was like a hot desert wind coursing over his face.
The room was full of people in varying states of distress. A harassed-looking nurse was helping a man who seemed to have broken his ankle, while a woman threw up into a trash can in the corner. Addison had never been to an emergency room before, but now he understood why people tried to avoid them. He sat down on an empty chair, mopping his forehead with his thoroughly soaked towel.
After a few minutes, the annoyed nurse bustled over to him. “And what’s wrong with you, hon?” she asked, eyeing him up and down. Addison though he saw her face pale a little.
“I—I think I’ve got the fire disease,” he mumbled, looking around to make sure no one heard him. The nurse’s face became even paler.
“You’re probably here for the new drug, then. Let’s get you out of here…we don’t want you infecting the other patients.” She extended a gloved hand towards him and he took it, feeling his own hand slip around in her grasp. He kept his head hung low as she led him towards the wards and the waiting room’s exit. Several other patients who had seen him come in looked at him jealously, obviously wishing that they had been helped that quickly. Addison sighed internally. If only they knew.
🔥🔥🔥
“Sign here, and here, and initial here,” said the doctor, handing Addison a pen and a form on a clipboard. Addison dutifully signed, giving up all his rights to sue the hospital should he come to any grievous harm from the experimental drug. He gave the form and pen back to the doctor and shifted in his bed. He wasn’t any cooler, but at least he didn’t have to walk anymore.
The doctor looked over the form and gave Addison a half-smile. “A nurse will be here in a few minutes. We’ll give you the drug via IV. It does take about an hour to get into your system, so we’ll keep you at least overnight for observation.” He turned and left the ward, his white coat swishing in the breeze from the open door. Feeling a little bit more comfortable, Addison examined his surroundings.
He was in a large, white hospital ward. He could tell there were other people in the room with him, but the ward was large and there were curtains in between each patient, so he didn’t know how many other people were there with him. There was a small table next to his bed with a little red flower in a vase sitting on it. Someone groaned a few beds away from him. He shifted again in his bed and felt his wallet and his keys in his pocket.
As promised, a nurse came to his bedside, dragging an IV on wheels behind her. “This shouldn’t hurt too much,” she said soothingly. “In fact, a lot of patients say it feels refreshingly cool.” She plugged the IV into the wall and inserted it into Addison’s arm. Immediately, Addison felt an icy cold blossom from where she had stuck him. It careened down his arm and reached everywhere from the tips of his fingers to the fringes of his shoulder. He sighed in relief. If it felt this good, it had to be a cure.
“Now remember, you need to leave this in for at least an hour. Someone will be back in here to check on you around that time. Let us know if you need anything!” She gave him a cheerful smile before looking him in the eyes. Her face became inquisitive. “Do I…know you from somewhere?”
Addison didn’t recognize her. “I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. The nurse shrugged and walked to the patient to his right. Addison sank down into his bedding and let the drug do its thing.
The nurse was trying to be quiet, but since there was only a curtain between them, Addison could hear most of what she said. “How are you coming along, sir? Is the drug helping you?” she asked. The person gave a noncommittal grunt. The nurse’s voice turned a little harder. “We heard you didn’t want to be hospitalized here, but it’s—it’s for your own good,” she finished with difficulty. It sounded like the person next to Addison was also suffering from the fire disease. Addison turned to face the curtain, hoping he could catch a glimpse of whoever was behind the curtain. He saw the nurse’s shadow walk to the person’s bedside table, and as she did, the curtain fluttered. Addison got a full look at the person in the bed.
It was the man with the vial from the cult.
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