Page 24 of Violent Skies

“Yeah, left side.”

I can see his face so clearly in my mind, the agony that I caused and my stomach churns violently.

“The beauty of it is that if he had left it in, it would have been an easy fix. Whoever stabbed him missed anything vital…” She shrugs and grabs a few folders to start assisting with rounds.

“You said three-nineteen?”

She nods, backing away.

The second I’m alone with the computer I bring up the information from the other night. We live in a violent city, and the chance that this stab victim is the same as mine is low—but not impossible. Checking will either make me feel much better, or much worse. I start to click away on the computer, trying to see if they ran any tests on him before he disappeared but can’t find much other than the fake name he gave and a few charts that are mostly indistinguishable from any other stab wound I’ve seen.

“What would Murphy do?” I chew on my lip. “Hacking the hospital system is a little above my pay grade… Alright. What would Koa do?” I look at my surroundings and my eyes land on the camera at the end of the hallway, pointed toward three nineteen.

I can go in there, check it out. But it’s been a few days, it’s clean and… I look at the log, and it has a patient in it for an emergency appendix removal.

“Nickie!” I whisper, the thought hitting me suddenly. I close out and push out of the chair to make my way down to the security room. I stop to grab a donut and coffee for him before knocking on the door.

After a couple seconds he lets me in, “Hey Cress!”

Nickie is a sweet old man with an even sweeter tooth and a love for good conversation. He’s been with the hospital since before I was even a nursing student. Walks to work every morning, knows everyone's names, and keeps everyone safe by sitting at his computers all shift.

“Donuts? You must need something.” He clocks me immediately.

“Just some information for an incident report. Think you can help me out?” I ask with a smile and he invites me inside.

“What date?” he asks, moving back toward his desk with a smile, “and what am I looking for?”

“Two nights ago, we had a guy come in, agitated, bleeding from a stab wound. Marla Waiters was his nurse. He attacked her before fleeing the hospital. I’m just looking for some video maybe? If the camera at the end of the hall caught it? We just need to confirm it was him with her report.”

He takes a bite of his donut and I hand him a napkin as he moves his mouse around to start looking for it. “Here it is.” He points with the final piece of it. “Four forty in the morning,” he says.

It’s him, alright. I’ve seen his ugly face in every nightmare I’ve had. Over and over, the sound of his voice when the knife sank into his shoulder. The threats, the violence, the destruction. I swallow the vomit that rises in my throat.

“You alright? Looks like you’re gonna be sick,” he says and I inhale slowly.

“I’m okay. That’s perfect, Nickie. Can I take a video?” I ask, pulling out my phone.

“Better yet, I can email you the clip, how does that sound?” He clicks around slowly on the screen when I nod yes. My phone dings and I lean down to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re too good to me. You really saved my behind with this one!” I say to him as I’m backing away, “double donuts next time!”

I wander back up to where I’m supposed to be and return to my desk. The rest of the shift is quiet and I watch the video on repeat for hours, his face haunts me and makes me nauseous but I have it now.

Driving over to the house after work takes me less time than normal, and maybe it’s because my foot feels heavy on the gas pedal, but I’ll never admit that to anyone. Murphy is at his desk in the garage, bouncing a sucker around between his cheeks when I show up. He’s wearing a baggy West Coast Choppers sweater and his hair is unbrushed around his concentrated face.

“Here,” I say, dropping the phone on the desk with a smile.

“Damn look at you go, Cress.” He pops the sucker out of his mouth and smirks, pushing his glasses up with the back of his hand. “Our little criminal in the making, how did you get your hands on this?” Murphy examines it as it hits his inbox. “It doesn't even have a trace-back on the IP.”

“I asked for it?” I shrug and this makes him laugh. “Oh! I bribed an old man with a donut.”

“Next time lie and say something cool.” He shakes his head. “And how come I don’t get bribed with donuts?”

“Can it help?” I ask him, ignoring his pout.

“It’s definitely a clearer shot of his face, and it’s comforting, we know he’s alive now.” He looks up at me as Birdie slams into the garage.

“Why is that comforting?” I ask nervously.