Chapter 28

Beep ... Beep ... Beep...

When I awoke I was in another hospital bed dreaming about committing murder against the inventor of the beeping machine - again. There was no pain, however. I liked waking up in a hospital without serious pain. It was novel.

As was my custom, I took inventory. Arms, legs, hands, feet, head, eyes, ears ... All present and accounted for. There were three IV poles, a computer monitor keeping track of everything from my breathing, to my blood pressure, and a monitor on my right index finger, to keep track of my oxygen saturation.

Before moving I scanned the entire room, or as much as I could see without turning my head. It took some time before I remembered that I was David, and did not suffer from a bleeding skull. When I realized moving my head wouldn't result in excruciating pain, I looked all around.

That's when I noticed a young, pretty woman, sitting asleep in the chair beside my bed. Since she was sleeping, I felt free to stare, cataloguing her face, hair, shape, and clothing. Sandy blond hair fell across her forehead, framing a classic nose and high cheek bones. Nice clear complexion, with no evidence of sun, or wind burn.

Her figure, as much as I could dope out, watching her sleep, was quite attractive. Rebecca would love to get her hands on that tight, little body. Colleen would enjoy the event, but Rebecca would love this one.

I let time pass, content to rest, and enjoy doing nothing for a little while. As I rested I recalled the helicopter with an entire crew in biohazard suits. Apparently that was nothing, or the lovely young women would not be keeping me company, unsuited.

At least there was that ... and I wasn't dead. See? Two positives right off the bat.

As I rested, she stirred. At first her breathing changed slightly, which alerted me to the possibility of putting a name, and voice to her face. Then she moved around, slightly changing her sleeping position. She drew her legs up towards her chest, but never made it, before her eyes popped open and she started, seeing me watching.

The sleepy look vanished as she became fully awake. "Oh, you're awake," she said. "How are you feeling? How long have you been awake waiting for me? Do you need anything? Should I ring for the doctors?"

I laughed, suddenly grateful to hear my own voice. "You're right. I'm awake. I think I feel fine, but reserve judgment until I get up and move around some. I woke up about ten minutes ago, and have enjoyed watching you sleep. Your snoring was loud, but not at all offensive, I promise."

That got her goat and she said, "I Do Not Snore! I Do Not. Don't say that. I Never Snore.

"Hummmph..." she got a full head of indignation under her before I could get a word in edgewise and put her at ease.

"Sorry," I surrendered. "Your sleeping voice is wonderful and I enjoyed every second of it..." My smile gave me away and she giggled, realizing I was having her off.

"As for the rest of your questions: I am not in any pain, which is a wonderful condition to find myself in, and unless you have orders to the contrary, there is nothing I need from the doctors, except an explanation for my current predicament, when one comes round to visit.

"How about you?" I asked. "Are you an RN, doctor, secret agent, assassin, representative of the UN, or space alien? Because, if you are, I'm leaving before the probing begins, so there!" We were having fun, having not been introduced, so I plowed ahead.

"I'm David, as you can see. I have no earthly idea where we are, or why, but I feel certain you have at least some information. I'm sixteen years old, but tall for my age, and I currently – but temporarily - reside right here.

"Tag, you're it. Now how about you?" She smiled. I liked it.

"Well ... David ... I am Winnie Jamison. I work for DOJ as a personal protection agent, and a certain federal judge ordered my boss to have us with you every second until the people that did this to you are in jail, or the ground, and he says he doesn't care which it is.

"Somehow I suspect the federal government is very interested in your wellbeing, and my department has been tasked with supplementing your private security to keep you safe.

"Let's see ... I am twenty-nine years old, much too old for what you're thinking, by the way, and single. I know of no space aliens in my branch of government, but there are a few men that I have doubts about. And I Do Not SNORE!" She giggled when she said it, so I was pretty sure she knew she did.

"I'm neither a doctor, nor a nurse. I don't save people, I shoot them. Should anyone not authorized even try to get near you, I am under orders to shoot first and ask question when, and if it is convenient. So far I haven't shot a single intruder trying to get to you, but the afternoon is young, so we'll see." She had a wonderful sense of humor. I found myself hoping I get to keep her a while.

"As for your personal situation ... here's what I know, what I think, and what I suspect, in that order.

"You were shot by an assassin with a twenty-two. No one suspected anything but stupidity, until your wound turned rancid so fast it was impossible for it to be because of infection. That scared the living daylights out of everyone, and they overreacted so badly, that we all had to cover ourselves from head to toe, with biohazard suits, while trying to protect you.

"Now as if that wasn't bad enough, you try separating the authorized medical personnel from unauthorized, potential assassins, while everyone looked like Buck Rogers of the Twenty-Fifth Century.

"On top of that, you got REALLY SICK. Oh my gosh, you were sick. I can't tell you often the doctors gave you up for dead. Whatever they shot you with is some scary stuff. What we found out was that the heat of the gun burned ninety-nine percent of the poison up. You and everyone you came in contact with would have died in minutes, except for the fact that shooting you saved your life.

"The DOJ, and DHS is all over this as a terrorist act, and the Attorney General has declared it an attempted act of mass destruction. That gets everyone in the game. Those poor bastards won't be able to find a hole deep enough to hide in. In fact, a bunch of those idiots are already in jail, and singing their lungs out, because they are facing a mandatory death sentence that comes with the terror charge.

"This hospital is off the books, by the way. Your doctor, Rebecca Temple, and attorney have been here since shortly after we brought you in. They are sleeping, and they need it. Those two women, and the mother of one of them, have stayed by you for WEEKS and weeks.

"For the longest time no one thought you had a chance. The poison is brutal. Even burned up, it is a massive dose of death. The other thing is no one can understand why you haven't died, and the doctors will wet themselves when they discover you woke up. Nobody expects that, either.

I cut her off. "How long have I been this way?"

"It's been six and half weeks since you took the helicopter ride."

"Holy crap! What about my dog?"

"Ohhh. That would be Benjamin. He has stayed under your bed since you came in. Every time anyone except your immediates came near you, he seriously deterred them. Your bodyguard, Jack, seems to be able to deal with him, as does one, or two of your agents. Other than them and your family, forget it. No one wants to go near him while he's guarding you."

It was way too much to take in all at once. Instead of talking, I grabbed the side rail and sat up. The room began to swim but my heart adjusted blood flow quickly, and I was able to swing my legs out and stand up ... for about a second. Then I sat back down on the bed, really fast. Winnie was beside me in a flash, but I held up my hand. I'd dealt with enough physical weakness to know I was fine, just adjusting.