Inside 863

Chapter 14 | 2/15/2021

I sat in a chair beside Dakota's hospital bed, writing an email to John Doe. What happened to Dakota? What happens next? Dakota told me a few things before the incident, I typed. I could ask the doctor what was wrong with Dakota, but quite frankly, the doctor didn't know.

I sent the email. Hopefully I'd get a reply soon. I stared at Dakota as he slept. He looked so peaceful right now, the complete opposite of how I had last seen him. The doctor had told me that Dakota refused to eat, drink, or swallow anything at all. Whatever Dakota had drank had burned a line from his mouth all the way down his esophagus. What could have done that? Some sort of acid maybe? Suddenly, it dawned on me. The clear serum. How would I explain this to the doctors? Was there even a cure for it? Or would Dakota have to stay in the hospital until his throat healed?

As I watched him, his eyes fluttered open. He seemed bewildered as he looked around at his surroundings.

"Payten?" he said weakly.

"Hey Dakota," I said softly. "How do you feel?" He sighed as he fell back onto his pillow.

"Tired," he responded. I nodded.

"Here's some things I brought over from the studio," I said, heaving a large bag onto the foot of his bed. One by one, I pulled out cards, candy, presents, and all sorts of things that would cheer Dakota up while he stayed in this bleak hospital room. He smiled broadly at the sight of the gifts.

I sat with him while he read each card and opened each gift. After he had finished, he asked me, "Payten, does my mom know?"

"I think she knows you're here," I replied.

"No . . . does she know what landed me here?" I opened my mouth, then paused.

"Do you want her to know?" I asked quietly. He pondered this for a minute.

"I'd hate to put her through any more hardship right now, but I think it's about time that she knows the truth." I nodded solemnly.

"Would you bring me some paper and a pen?"

"Of course." I stood and left his room to go ask for the elements at the receptionist's desk. I returned and handed him the paper and pen. For the next few minutes, we sat in silence, save for the scratching of the pen against paper.

"Would you take this to her?" Dakota requested, handing me the folded up piece of paper.

"Of course," I said. I didn't fancy going back to his parents' house, but I couldn't turn him down either.

I knocked on the door to the Farling home. Or should I say, the Syphus home? I thought wryly. The door was answered by a man, whose face I recognized. Crap, I thought, my nerves skyrocketing.

"Can I help you?" he asked gruffly.

"Uh, just get this to Mrs. Farling please," I said, jerkily holding out the note.

"Okay . . ." he said, giving me an appraising look. A second later, he inquired, "Do I know you?" A sudden burst of anger filled me.

"Do you know me? Do you know me?" I said, my anger rising faster than the volume of my words. "You just don't happen to recall knocking me out with a shovel?" The man seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"Nope," he said finally.

"Ugh!" I cried frustratedly. "Nothing? Nothing at all?"

"Nope," he repeated. "Look, I've knocked out a lot of people with shovels in my lifetime." I was too angry to catch the dark comment.

"Whatever!" I huffed, whipping around on my heels and marching back to my car. I threw him one last dirty look, and as I did, I realized he was staring at me scrutinizingly. I shouldn't have done that, I thought with a sudden chill. What if he does know?

I drove back to the studio, fearful of what would happen to me next. I feared ending up in a hospital bed just like Dakota. Or worse, I thought, chilled.

I parked and opened the door to Blue Base. I had to tell Matt about the clear serum.

"Matt?" I said, peering into Megadesk.

"What's up?" he said, spinning around in his chair to face me.

"I think I know what might've happened to Dakota," I stated, my voice small in my own ears. He gave me a curious look.

"Someone put the clear serum in his drink."

"What?!" he asked incredulously, jumping up from his seat. "You gotta be kidding . . . ."

"I very strongly believe that's what it was," I said with a shrug. Matt fell back into his chair, running his hands through his hair.

"Poor kid," he remarked. I nodded in agreement. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to check it. It was an email from John Doe.