Destined to Play, Feel, Fly Trilogy Page 35
I can’t help one last plea. ‘You know I don’t want to do this, any of this.’
‘I’m aware of that, Dr Blake, but money always has an interesting way of procuring the appropriate outcomes.’ The cannula seamlessly slides into my vein and he holds my hand in a tight grip while injecting the contents slowly into my system.
‘Money?’ I screech. ‘You think this about money?’ At least he seems to be good at his job, but jeez I hate injections, and I’m not brave enough to try and snatch back my hand. I have to look away from the proceedings but thankfully it doesn’t hurt.
‘At the end of the day, most things are, I’m afraid.’ Oh god, how bad does this look? Here I am thinking I could give the money to charity, that I was doing the right thing taking it from a company flush with funds. Now it looks like I’ve agreed to go through this because of the money I am being paid.
‘Well, I’m not, I’d never do this for the money. It makes me feel sick to the core that you think that. I’m doing it for my safety, to be released from here unharmed. Then I can return to my children, so they don’t end up without a mother.’ He ignores my emotional outburst as he calmly picks up another vial from the tray and injects it again through the cannula. Why am I justifying myself to this man? Once he has finished, he realises the tourniquet.
‘Very noble, Dr Blake. It’s important you lie still while this moves through your system to avoid any unwanted side effects.’ As I lie as still as possible, I can’t believe that that is exactly what people will think. By signing that bloody contract it almost endorses the fact that my decision was about the money. And I thought I was being smug about the contract not being able to stand up legally. Now that they have offered me money and I have accepted it, it has all the components of a legally binding contract. Offer, acceptance and consideration. But duress, that has to account for something doesn’t it! Holy shit, what have I done!
I can feel whatever was injected taking over my body. My muscles feel relaxed and there is a comfortable warmth spreading through my limbs. The doctor steadily sits on a chair beside me checking my pulse.
‘Can you wiggle your fingers for me?’
I attempt to wiggle them but nothing happens.
‘Good, this is working well. Please remain calm.’
Shit, how can my body be anything but calm if I can’t move anything?
I can’t help but try to wiggle my toes. A weird spasm escapes them and then nothing. My legs are dead weights. I can still feel the doctor’s fingers on my inner wrist but I can’t move my arm away from him. I’m conscious but completely paralysed. Oh dear, this is not good at all.
‘I know this is a strange sensation, Dr Blake, but you will be more comfortable if you relax into it rather than fight it.’ I try to remember the last time I wasn’t fighting internally over one thing or another, it seems to be an embedded habit recently.
I try to say yes, but my mouth can’t form the words. This absolutely freaks me out and although I’m now utterly stressed and panicking internally, I’m lying perfectly still and content externally.
‘Use your eyes to communicate. You are doing very well, just remember to stay calm and you will be fine. Just let the drugs do what they need to do.’ I desperately try to say no with my eyes but the doctor is now letting two men in white clothes, carrying a stretcher, into the room. I can’t move an inch, completely immobile. I can only see what comes into my line of sight or my peripheral vision. This is a really weird, dissociated feeling.
They adjust their stretcher to the height of the bed and on the count of three, easily heave my body from one to the other. A white sheet is placed over me and three straps are secured over my body. The doctor smooths hair away from my face, and I mentally flinch at the softness of his touch before I am wheeled out the door of the room and beyond the great entrance of the chateau. I roll beneath its majestic archway looking straight up before being taken outside and carefully loaded into an ambulance. The doctor follows me in, sits on the bench beside me and once again monitors my pulse. He notices the bracelet on my hand. ‘This is an exquisite piece of jewellery, Dr Blake. I hadn’t noticed it before. It is a shame you are unable to tell me where it is from. I’m afraid it will not be allowed where we are going, however. I will ensure it is returned to you at the end of your time with us.’ I try to scream in desperation, but there is only the silent movement in my eyes. A moment later, I can feel we are moving with flashes of lights reflecting through the windows. This is really too much for me to bear.
I hear sirens swirling around me as we rush towards the hospital and then heaven knows where after that. Which reminds me, I still don’t even know what country I’m in. I’m not sure which is the stranger feeling, being strapped into a wheelchair hidden beneath a burqa but being able to struggle and tense my muscles, or feeling rather frustratingly yet serenely relaxed, gliding along in a stretcher as if my brain is incapable of sending an effective message to the rest of my body. As these thoughts float through my mind, I’m being whisked through the corridor of what seems to be a rather small village hospital. I try to scan the entire scenario, keen for any visual information as to what could happen next. Eventually I’m handed over, literally, to some nurses in a small room. The straps are removed as are my clothes and I’m efficiently dressed in a revolting, backless, hospital garment. I know that is the least of my worries but even so…
My limbs are thoroughly washed by the nurses and I’m redressed in another hospital robe. Doctor Josef returns to the room and does his usual checks. This time I obviously can’t ask any questions. He checks my responses, which are non-existent. He looks pleased with how all of this is progressing. He looks at the clipboard he is holding and flicks through some pages. ‘I’m assuming you are still comfortable, Dr Blake?’
I move my eyes up and down. As comfortable as this situation allows I suppose, and very empty.
‘I’m going to set up a drip to ensure you have the nutrients you need for the next day or two, so you will not require food after your enema. That should ensure you feel re-energised and promote your overall wellbeing.’ God, he makes it sound like I’m in some health spa retreat, instead of lying in a coma with an overactive mind.
He goes about his business. Yet another injection; it’s not as if I can stop him. This time a cool sensation filters through my veins. They say you need to face your fears in life…hopefully, after this hospital experience I won’t have a problem ever again.
‘Once this bag has emptied, I will give you one last injection and that will be it for the rest of your time with us. You will continue to have no muscle control, as is the case now. However, you will feel extremely relaxed, eventually falling into a deep sleep and remain in this state for the next hour or so.’ His words alone are making me stressed, which he doesn’t seem to notice as he continues to impart information.
‘Soon you will be moved to another part of the hospital. During this journey you will not be able see as your face will be covered. Our aim is to complete this transition as quickly as possible. Obviously you will be unable to move, but it is still important that you remain calm during this time as we don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Do you understand?’
God, if he tells me I need to remain calm one more time I think I’ll scream. If I could, that is.
I move my eyes again. Understand? Sure, stay calm to reduce danger, yeah right, got it!
‘You are doing very well, Dr Blake. We should have you back to your normal state in no time.’ Bloody hell, there is absolutely nothing normal about my state or my life any more! I feel the urgent need to visually disengage from this process for as long as possible. Maybe I have more to thank Jeremy for than I realised, I think sarcastically. I can’t believe I neglected to ask whether the probability of risk or danger in relation to any of these procedures would be high, medium or low. That may have prompted more of a detailed discussion with Madame Jurilique and I didn’t even go there…oh dear.
‘Right, we
are almost ready.’ I start to feel incredibly relaxed, really wonderfully relaxed, and can’t help but acknowledge this is a beautiful feeling. Warm, fuzzy and absolutely delightful. Whatever he has given me is a great drug. Although I feel heavy, like a dead weight, I’m also soft and gooey. Happy days. I’m shifted back onto the stretcher.
‘Okay, Dr Blake, we shall look forward to seeing you on the other side. Please stay relaxed.’
Hmm, staying relaxed is the only option available to me as I hear something being zipped along my body. It continues until it covers my head and my line of sight vanishes. We begin to move. Just as the good doctor said. I don’t care one bit; they can do whatever they want to me when I feel this fantastic… I can’t begin to imagine what the next three days will hold…then nothingness blankets my brain like a snuffer putting out a candle’s flame.
PART FIVE
Sorrow is tranquillity remembered in emotion.
— Dorothy Parker, 1939
Jeremy
I lose all sense of which way is up as I continue to fall down the steep hillside. Rocks belt into my sides and legs as I attempt to protect my face and head as best I can. I feel a sharp rock cut deep into my knee but I can’t inspect the damage due to my gathering speed. Eventually, I slam thigh-first into a rock and come to a stop. Fuck that hurts, but I have no time for pain. My backpack is crushed between the earth and my back and I have no idea whether its contents have survived the impact. I gather myself up from the ground and limp as fast as I can back down to the village, desperate to tell Sam what I’ve just witnessed.
I finally make it and push open the door of our small room. There’s a woman in the room who looks a few years younger than me. Sam leaps to his feet.
‘Jeremy, what the hell happened to you? You’re covered in dirt and, god, is that blood?’
‘I fell. It’s fine, don’t worry about it now, Sam, we need to find out which hospital ambulances end up at around here. They have —’ I stop myself, both to catch my breath and so I don’t say too much in front of this stranger.
Sam realises and introduces us. ‘Jeremy, this is Salina. She has been sent as our bodyguard.’
‘What? What happened to — oh, it doesn’t matter.’ I can’t really come out and say I had just assumed the bodyguard would be male. I attempt to hide the disbelief in my voice. She looks about five foot seven and is slim with short dark hair cropped around her face. She certainly doesn’t look too dangerous but as I’m learning all too well — looks can be deceiving.
‘Who sent you?’ I feel a desperate need to verify everything first-hand given what I’ve just witnessed for the second time.
‘Martin Smythe. He’s responsible for assembling the team in Munich who are on standby for our update.’
‘Right, good.’ At least she seems to know what’s going on. ‘I’m Dr Jeremy Quinn. Pleased to meet you.’ I wipe my palms against my trousers in an attempt to clean my filthy hand before shaking hers.
‘Salina Malek. Likewise.’ She sounds all business at least.
‘So, tell us, Jeremy, what happened?’ Sam urges me to continue.
‘Not here, we need to get going. There’s an ambulance headed northwest on the road out of this village and Alexa’s in it. I’ll tell you the rest in the car.’
‘It sounds like they’re heading towards Bled, there’s a small hospital there, otherwise there is a large hospital in Villach across the Austrian border, if the emergency is more serious. Where are the keys? I’ll drive.’
I must admit I’m a little surprised by Salina’s instant, proactive response, but I’m pleased she seems to knows her way around here. For a moment I am about to insist on driving, but I’m a bit shaky after my fall and subsequent dash to the hotel. I can focus on updating them and cleaning myself up in the back seat. I throw her the keys and she immediately catches them. Good. Fast reflexes at least.
Salina wastes no time finding the open road and I’m impressed with her driving skills; nothing puts me on edge more than being a passenger with a bad driver. I look at my leg and my trousers are ripped, and there is blood still pouring out of my knee. As I fill the others in on what I’d seen, I rip my shirt sleeve and wrap it around the wound to try and stem the flow. At first glance, it looks like it may need a few stitches.
‘Bled is about 20 kilometres away from here. Are you sure this is the direction the ambulance was heading?’
‘Yes. I’m sure.’
‘Were the sirens on?’
‘Not when they left the chateau, only the flashing lights, then the sirens started as they turned off past the village.’
‘Okay, I think we should do a thorough search of Bled Hospital. It’s only small so, between us, it won’t take long. We should be able to see whether an ambulance is still there and recently driven. By the looks of your knee, you may need some assistance, regardless.’ She glances back toward me and I wish she would keep her eyes on the road.
‘I can stitch myself up, but it would be good to use some of their equipment.’
‘How was Alexandra when you saw her, J?’ Sam asks.
‘She actually looked okay. A little forlorn’ — I remember the sadness in her eyes as she looked at the Alps and, unknowingly, toward me — ‘but otherwise well.’ My voice catches on these last words and I swallow hard before continuing. ‘Then she disappeared for quite some time. I stayed in my position as soon as I saw the ambulance arrive and the other car being brought to the entrance. The next thing I knew she was strapped to a stretcher, lying perfectly still, before being whisked off down the mountain.’
Fuck, what could have happened to her now, what if she’s had a seizure from the stress? As if she wouldn’t be scared shitless after all she has been through the last few days. They could have given her a drug and she’s reacted badly, drugs have always had a more extreme effect on her than on others. I remember the impact the sedative had on her before we arrived at Avalon. I had thought it would help her, but she took a long time to recover.
‘Can you speed things up, Salina, we seem to be taking forever?’ I can’t take the edge off my voice, more from my own stress than anything else.
‘We will be there in less than five minutes, Dr Quinn.’ I notice the speedo registers she is going as fast as she can under the circumstances. She continues, her voice brisk. ‘Right, this is what we’ll do. You two go in together and provide me with a distraction to go and search the rooms and the basement. Hopefully, you can get your knee tended to.’ She glances toward me again. Eyes on the road, I plead in silent exasperation. ‘Samuel, you can check each person in the emergency wing, in case she is in there. Don’t stray too far from Quinn as you are unarmed and obviously these people are dangerous.’
I’m having difficulty assimilating Salina’s instructions, when I’m the one who is normally in charge. Unfortunately, there is not too much I can add as everything she has said makes sense. So I keep my mouth closed until we pull up at the tiny hospital.
‘Is that the ambulance?’
‘Yes, it looks like it.’
‘Good, hopefully they are all still here.’ She picks up her phone. Obviously, Martin is on speed dial.
‘Martin. Malek here. I’m with Quinn and Webster at Bled Hospital. Blake was sighted being loaded into an ambulance outside Kranj and we believe she is inside. We’re heading in for surveillance and will send an update ASAP.’
Efficient on the phone as well, obviously.
‘Ready?’ she asks. ‘Remember you are here as a patient, Quinn. Quite convenient that you had your fall under these circumstances.’ I don’t like being considered a patient or convenient by someone I barely know. It’s not like I’m looking for sympathy, but I doubt I would get it from her anyway. We both nod as she pulls up to the hospital entrance to let us out and then quickly parks the car in visitor parking. I don’t need to pretend to limp to the front desk, as the pain is steadily mounting in my knee and hip. The nurse speaks a little English as we attempt to explain my injuries. Whe
n she leaves her desk to come around to inspect my leg, Salina quietly slips by into the shadows of the corridor.
I try to explain that I’m a doctor as she escorts me into a small curtained room and indicates for me to sit down in the chair. She insists on finding the locum doctor and wanders off, giving Sam the opportunity to check the rooms on the other side of the hospital.
A friendly young Indian doctor eventually introduces himself and he speaks good English. I tell him I was hiking and that I’m happy to give myself stitches if he can provide the equipment. He looks hesitant until I pull out my medical card from my wallet and then he smiles. ‘Okay, doctor, good. Very good.’ He shakes my hand before telling the nurse to supply me with what I need. Thankfully, the procedures at this hospital don’t seem to be as strict as in the States or Australia. When she returns with the equipment I get to work and as the doctor is still loitering around I decide to find out what I can.
‘Do you have many people working on this shift?’ It is the least busy hospital I’ve encountered for many years.
‘Only myself and two nurses. We are never too busy here. There is another intern who rosters on occasionally from Ljubljana and one specialist doctor who sometimes brings his own patients, but otherwise it is quiet most of the time.’
‘And the ambulance that recently arrived, is everything okay?’
He looks distracted as he fills in the paperwork. ‘Ambulance? Oh yes, that is the specialist doctor I was just talking about, one of his patients just arrived. Very serious. It’s not looking so good.’