Reaper Read Free Page B

mid to late twenties, five-foot six or seven, about one hundred twenty-five to one hundred thirty pounds, good looking but not beautiful.  Her eyes first centered on Max’s face and then immediately shifted to the monitors near the head of his bed.
    “A makeshift memorial with thousands of flowers …”
    She moved next to his bed, picked up a plastic cup with a straw in it, and guided the end to his lips.  At the same time, with her other hand, she pushed the call-button for the nurse.
    When she pulled the cup of water away, he asked, “How’d you know?”
    She smiled and said, “Everyone is thirsty after waking up in the hospital.  I think it has to do with the air conditioning.”
    “What happened to me?  And who are you?  You’re not a nurse.”
    “I’m the paramedic who brought you here.  I just …well, ah, I just wanted to check up on you, you know, to see how you’re doing.”  And after a short awkward pause and another smile, “Just part of the service.”
    Maybe it was something she said, but he suddenly remembered being inside the mall, he remembered shooting someone, he remembered two officers being shot, but he couldn’t remember who was shot or what else happened.
    She started to say more but was interrupted by the arrival of the nurse, who, like the paramedic, looked at the monitors but, unlike the paramedic, lifted up the sheet covering him, looked at his side before dropping it back down again, next examining a plastic bag hanging from the side of the bed, before putting it back in place, and finally checking his IV drip.  She asked him a series of questions such as his name, if he knew where he was, what day it was, if he knew what happened to him, and finally, if he was in pain.  After that, she typed something on a laptop computer mounted on a rolling cart.
    “…we go to Ivan Moore at the Oakridge Mall …”
    Before leaving, the nurse turned to the paramedic and asked, “Friend of yours?”
    “No, had a few minutes so thought I’d just check up on him.”
    The nurse gave her a strange look, started to say more, but instead left.  As she passed through the door, a uniformed officer took her place.  Max didn’t know the officer’s name, but recognized him as a Reserve. 
    Whenever a police officer was injured in the line of duty and confined to the hospital, an officer was stationed outside his or her door.  When there were no full-time sworn officers available, a reserve officer was assigned.  I guess the boys are busy, Max thought.
    “Stay tuned for our continuing coverage of Memorial Day terror …”
    The uniformed officer entered the room and, once again, the paramedic stepped back.  His nametag read Cartwright.  “How you feeling?” he asked.
    “Like someone ran me over with,” his eyes caught the paramedic’s, he smiled, “with an ambulance.”
    Cartwright snorted and said, “More like a tank from what I hear.”
    The paramedic interrupted, “Hey, I better go.  Glad to see you’re awake,” and turned to leave.
    “Hey wait, don’t go,” Max said.
    “You’re busy, and I’ve got things to do.  Maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow.”  The way she said the last, he knew she was lying.
    “You were going to tell me what happened.”
    She nodded at Cartwright and said, “Sounds like he’s got more information than I do.  I’ll catch you later.”
    “Your name; what’s your name?”
    “Myra.  Catch you later,” and she was gone.
    “She’s been hanging out for, I don’t know, three or four hours at least,” Cartwright said.  “A couple times I looked in she was checking the machines, your drip, stuff like that.  I thought she was a friend or something.”
    “Nah, don’t know her.”
    “Humm.  …So how much do you remember?  You want to hear what happened?”
    Another memory came back to Max.  “Steve; is Steve okay?  He was with me.  I remember an explosion.”  A terrible thought crossed his mind.  Maybe there was something wrong