Double Dose, page 27
“That’s the big mystery. I’d love to find out. By the way, if you don’t have that pathway, you’re immune from the horrors.”
“Okay…accepting this pathway exists, what do you do?”
Here’s where we lose him.
“Well, if you block the feed you stop the horrors. So I send a part of me into the victim and block the pathway.”
Milton spoke slowly, in a halting tone. “You send part of yourself inside…”
(“Look at him…you can see him shutting down.”)
But check Ames: She’s totally buying it.
“You go inside?” she said, eyes wide and sounding breathless. “Like with your mind? Can you teach me?”
“I wish I could,” Daley said. You have no idea. “But it’s simply not possible. You either can do it or you can’t.”
Milton shook himself, obviously far out of his rational comfort zone. “Okay, explanations aside, you gave those two women back their lives and for that I—and everyone here—is eternally grateful. Can you cure more?”
“Sure,” Daley said.
The more we do, the better your chances of tracking the source, right?
(“Right.”)
“How many more can you manage?” Milton said.
“How many y’got?”
He stared at her. “You’re serious?”
“I’m here. Put me to work.”
“Damn, did we ever misjudge you. But anyway, I can’t give you an exact number off the top of my head. It’s constantly growing. More than half the hospital’s beds are filled by horrors patients and the steady influx is threatening to take over the rest. Our resources are so stretched we’re thinking about moving some of the healthiest ones—younger victims with no complicating medical issues—to an intermediate-care facility.” He gestured down the hall. “But for now they’re all under one—uh-oh.”
Daley followed his gaze and felt her heart sink.
Sandoval was marching their way with two sheriff’s deputies in tow. One was Sam Alvarez who did not look happy to be here.
Dr. Milton stepped between Daley and the newcomers.
“What’s going on?” Milton said.
The CEO was wearing that smug smile. “Taking out the trash.”
Daley bit back an angry retort as Milton shook his head in disgust.
“Is that really necessary?”
“I’ve reported her as a disorderly person. These two fine officers of the law will remove her from the premises.”
Milton said, “You might want to look in the room we just exited first.”
“No, that won’t be nec—”
“You will check out the two horrors patients in that room,” he said, his tone hardening. “And until you do, I don’t care if you bring in the goddamn National Guard, this young lady is not going anywhere.”
(“Told you he was a good guy,”) Pard said.
Obviously taken aback, the CEO glanced uncertainly at the two deputies.
Sam gestured toward the doorway. “Be easier if you did.” The other deputy nodded agreement.
Sandoval’s expression said she loathed the idea of lowly deputies calling the shots, but she couldn’t remove Daley from the hospital without their cooperation.
“Go ahead,” Milton said. “There are two nurses in there tending to the patients.”
Squaring her shoulders, Sandoval marched past them and into the room. Less than a minute later she stumbled out with a slack expression.
“Amelia’s back? She’s awake…they’re both awake…they’re both talking…”
“Knew it!” Sam said softly with a little fist pump.
Sandoval looked at Daley. “You?”
Daley nodded but said nothing.
“I…I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Milton said. “But I know what I see. And Ms. Daley has agreed to bring back as many as she can.”
“But how?”
“How doesn’t matter. And you’re wasting her time. People need her.” He ushered Daley toward the next room. “Shall we?”
“I didn’t know,” Sandoval said, taking a hesitant step forward as Daley turned away. “If I’d known I-I-I’d never…”
On impulse Daley went back to her.
(“Daley? What are you doing?”) Pard sounded worried.
Gonna pretend I’m a grown-up.
She thrust her hand out to Sandoval and said, “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. Maybe we can we be friends now?”
The CEO’s mouth worked but no words came out. She did manage to nod as she grasped Daley’s hand in both of hers.
“Great.” Daley pulled free, saying, “Gotta go. Work to do.”
(“Her expression,”) Pard said. (“If I laughed, I’d be in hysterics right now.”)
Sometimes I like to do the unexpected. And besides, Gram says that being nice to an enemy is like heaping hot coals on their head.
Dr. Milton’s expression mimicked Sandoval’s. “You are something else, young lady. What planet are you from?”
“This one.” She lowered her voice and jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Sandoval. “But she’s from Uranus.” As Milton burst out laughing, Daley said, “Okay, let’s do this.”
69
(“How are you holding up?”) Pard said as he emerged from the last of the victims.
Daley released the guy’s wrist. Already he was stirring. How long had she been at this? Hours and hours that seemed like days.
A little pooped—more emotional exhaustion than anything else, I think. You’re doing all the work.
(“But it’s not physical for me. Nor emotional. Just frustrating.”)
Because you can’t find the source?
(“Exactly. The images they’re experiencing are emanating from somewhere outside their bodies, but they seem non-directional. They appear to be all around us but only those with that neural pathway can perceive them.”)
So we don’t know any more now than we did this morning.
(“We know that a private life may be a thing of the past for you from now on.”)
Sam Alvarez stood guard at the door to the last two patients’ room to keep out the curious and the obnoxious. After the Sandoval confrontation this morning, his fellow deputy left to resume his regular duties, but Sam had appointed himself her personal bodyguard. She’d thought that unnecessary at first, but as the day had worn on, she was glad he’d stayed.
“Ready to move?” Sam said.
“How’s the crowd?”
“Even bigger, I’m afraid.”
The news that someone was curing the horrors victims at ECRMC had flashed through the valley like lightning. Victims’ relatives swarmed the lobby and soon overwhelmed the security resources, flooding through the building to all the patient areas.
It didn’t take them long to realize that the slim young woman in black with the white patch of hair and the golden hand was the source of the miracles. The Hispanic families called her “La Curandera.” Those with loved ones she had already seen wept with joy. Those with relatives still lost to the world prayed she would be able to work her magic on them. And an obstreperous few demanded that their loved one be next.
Daley tried to remain above it all, simply going from one room to the next. Often she had to wait for a room to be cleared so she could do her thing. Sometimes the relatives refused to leave and so she simply moved onto the next without entering. The lesson was quickly learned: Clear the area for La Curandera or delay the miracle.
Daley took a deep breath. “Get me out of here, Sam.”
Dr. Milton had left her in Sam’s care to take care of medical issues elsewhere in the hospital. Sandoval had morphed from and enemy to an advocate and had assigned her two of the hospital security guards—Marcus and Elena. So, with Sam leading the way and a guard on each side, they began to push through the crowded hallway.
News that she had cured the last of the victims present had spread through the crowd and a cheer went up as she appeared. They made way for her, their cellphones held aloft to record her passing, and many hands reached out to touch her as she passed.
What a difference a day makes. They were spitting on me yesterday.
(“Fear appears to lower the IQ, but what it really does is blunt the capacity for critical thinking. They’re afraid, so they emote instead of think. They don’t know who the horrors will strike next. And with no cure, the fear ramps up and up.”)
Now they have a cure—me. But I’m it? No one else can do this? That’s scary.
(“And a huge responsibility.”)
Finally they reached the elevator where Sam would allow only Marcus, Elena, and himself on with Daley.
“Give me your car keys,” he said as soon as the doors slid closed.
Daley wriggled a hand into the pocket of her skirt. “What for?”
“I’m going to drive you out of here in a sheriff’s department unit. That should discourage any of your new fans from following. Elena will take your car and we’ll all meet at the Old Eucalyptus Schoolhouse.”
“Schoolhouse?”
“Actually it’s a banquet hall, west of town on S80. You can switch to your own car there and I’ll drive Elena back.”
“You really think that’s necessary?”
He shrugged. “I could be overreacting, but if I’ve learned anything from this job is that a certain percentage of people are crazy—not psycho, necessarily, but filled with crazy ideas. Most of those aren’t bad people, but they can cause harm without meaning to. You’re not Ms. Daley anymore, you’re La Curandera, and if somebody out there thinks they can use your magic or somehow share it, things could get strange and maybe even dangerous.”
Seems like overkill.
(“Might be. But he’s given this some thought, and he’s got your best interests at heart. Go with it.”)
“Also,” Sam added, “to some warped person’s mind, it’s only a slight sidestep from ‘La Curandera’ to ‘bruja.’”
Daley knew the word: witch. Some of the Pendrys had already slapped that label on her, and wasn’t there something in the Bible about not allowing a witch to live? She shuddered. This could turn ugly.
She described to Elena approximately where she’d parked her Crosstrek and gave her the license-plate number. And then the elevator doors opened on a madhouse. The hospital lobby was jammed with people. A cheer, much louder than upstairs, went up as they spotted her and surged forward. Cell phones were raised everywhere, some on sticks as people leaned in to catch a selfie with La Curandera. Sam, Marcus and Elena had to push hard against them to move Daley toward the entrance.
Luckily, El Centro PD had sent a number of officers to aid with crowd control and they helped clear a path to the outside. Once more, people were reaching for her, touching her, calling out “La Curandera! La Curandera!”
I take back what I said about overkill.
Sam’s unit was parked right in front of the main entrance portico. He quickly ushered her toward it, avoiding a reporter with an extended mic. Daley caught a passing glimpse of a panel truck labeled K-something-TV with a dish on its roof. Sam pushed her into the passenger seat, then got them rolling. He hit the flashers and siren and roared north on Imperial Avenue. Cars pulled over to let him pass.
“Made it,” he said, checking the rearview. “Nobody following.”
“Thanks for all your help,” she said.
She leaned back. It felt so good to sit. She’d been on her feet for hours.
“You’re thanking me? After what you just did back there? The whole town—the whole state should be thanking you. And after what you did for Araceli…you will admit now that you did it, right?”
What do you think, Pard?
(“The cat is, as they say, out of the bag now, so why not?”)
She nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
He pounded the steering wheel. “Knew it! Knew it! Knew it! So it’s not just the horrors you can cure.”
“I can’t cure everything, Sam. Just a few things. A small brain tumor that hasn’t spread just happens to be one of them.”
“But why wouldn’t you tell me? Why keep saying Araceli cured herself?”
She looked at him. “We just waded through the reason.”
“Oh…right. But where did you get this power? Were you born with it? Did someone teach you?”
Here was the second time today she’d been asked if it could be learned. She recycled the answer she’d given Nurse Ames this morning…which seemed like an age ago.
“You can’t learn it. Either you can do it or you can’t.”
You’ll notice I’m trying not to lie these days.
(“I have noticed, and I’m duly impressed with how, with that one simple statement, you managed simultaneously to avoid lying and avoid answering the question.”)
Think I might have a future in politics?
(“I thought you promised to give up scams.”)
Sam said, “I’ve known in my heart all along that you cured Araceli. It happened when you gave her the pink quartz. You put her hands around the stone and your hands around hers. That’s when it happened, right?”
Daley nodded. The contact had allowed Pard to go in and strangle the tumor’s blood supply.
“That was it.”
Another bang on the steering wheel. “Knew it! You know, even though I was totally sure of it, I never mentioned it to anyone, even Araceli’s mom, because I knew they’d think I was crazy. But now—”
She put her hand on his arm. “Please don’t. Leave it a mystery miracle.”
“But—”
“Like you said: Some people get crazy ideas. If they hear I cured one tumor, they’ll think I can cure all tumors.”
“And you can’t?”
“Definitely not. I’m still learning about this. There are so many things I can’t cure. People won’t understand that. I’ll tell them ‘I can’t help you’ and they’ll hear ‘I won’t help you’ and get mad and maybe even violent. So please, let’s leave Araceli our secret, okay?”
“Anything you want, Daley. I’m on your side forever. If that’s the way you want it, that’s the way it’ll be. Mum’s the word.”
70
Rhys answered the knock on his bedroom door and found Cadoc standing on the threshold.
“My room,” his brother said in a clipped tone. “Now.”
Before Rhys could respond, Cadoc was on his way down the hall. Well, he had nothing better to do, so he followed him to where his brother held the door and shut it behind him as soon as he’d entered.
“What—?”
“You need to see this,” Cad said, grabbing the TV remote. “I recorded it earlier.”
The flat screen on his wall came to life with a freeze frame of a crowd outside the medical center in El Centro. Then the people started moving and the camera focused in on an African American female reporter holding a mic before a tearful young woman.
WOMAN (sobbing): —e’s back! I can’t believe he’s back!
REPORTER: Who’s back?
WOMAN: My dad. He got hit with the horrors last week and all they’ve been doing for him is knocking him out to keep him quiet. Then we hear—I mean, my uncle calls us up and says he heard there’s someone down the hospital curing the horrors.
REPORTER: Did you believe it?
WOMAN: Well, no. I mean we heard about this con artist they caught and I figured it was her.
Rhys groaned. “Is this going to be a rehash of Daley’s—?”
Cadoc held up his hand and made a shushing sound. “Listen.”
REPORTER: You mean the woman who—?
WOMAN: Yeah-yeah, but my uncle, he says, No this sounds like something’s really happening—something big. So I come down here and— (puts hand over her eyes and sobs again)
REPORTER: Go ahead.
WOMAN: So I come down here and there’s this whole crowd of people—I mean, the place is totally mobbed, you know? I can’t barely move. But then my uncle—he’s my father’s brother—he finds me and drags me up to the second floor where—(breaks down again) where my dad’s sitting up in bed—I mean he’s sitting up in his (beep) bed talking! It’s a (beep) miracle!
REPORTER: What happened?
WOMAN: This girl—woman—she’s like my age, you know? She’s all in black and she’s got this white splotch of hair up here (touches her crown) and she’s going from room to room curing the horrors!
Rhys said, “She’s describing—”
Cad nodded. “Yes, I know.”
REPORTER: Did you get her name?
WOMAN: Everyone’s calling her “La Curandera.”
REPORTER (nodding): “La Curandera”—the Healer.
WOMAN: Right! I took a picture of her— (holds up her phone)
REPORTER: Thank you. We have smartphone video we’ve acquired. (looks toward camera) Is it loaded? Okay, we’re ready. This was recorded by someone in the medical center just a short while ago.
Some static on the screen and then a shaky video of a slim young woman all in black with a white patch of hair exiting a doorway and being escorted by a sheriff’s deputy a short distance through a crowd of onlookers into another room.
As the visual returned to the reporter, Rhys could only stare in awe. Daley…Daley had returned to the medical center.
The screen went dark as Cad turned it off, saying, “Believe in her now?”
“But she flat-out denied that she’d cured those first cases.”
Cad dropped into a chair. “Yeah…I couldn’t understand that. But you know, after seeing the crowd she attracted down in El Centro, maybe I do.”
“You’ve got no doubt that she cleared up your skin?”
“Not the slightest.”
“And the horrors? The Horrors? Nobody’s been able to do a damn thing for the horrors.”
“Until now.”
“How many did she…?”
“According to the news, all of them. Sixty-two, to be exact.”
Rhys found a chair for himself and stared at the blank TV screen. Daley could heal people…cure the horrors. His Daley…
His? That was debatable now.
“I’ve really blown this. If only she’d told me.”
“Well, she didn’t and it’s easy to understand why. I know you’re hurt, but—”
“It’s that obvious?”
