LoveBites || #NONC2022

2.2 Ghosts

I hadn't been able to sleep after my shift. Too restless after a particularly unsatisfying hypothermia code. My mind was racing with the alternatives and possibilities...if I hadn't waited to initiate more aggressive rewarming, if I'd held out for one more round of compressions... I should have tried something else. I should have done something more. I almost did not hear my phone.

Dr. Bishop, I—I shouldn't have called, but please I need help.

It took me a moment to place the caller's voice. Memories of dark eyes and another unsatisfying case.

Julia? What's happened?

There was silence. Then panic.

Julia's voice came in a breathy rush, dotted with Russian expletives: I shouldn't have called. Shit! I fucked up.

Tell me where you are.

I can't. I can't. Oh God, she's going to die.

I mentally inventoried my first-aid kid built from the wayward hospital supplies that found their way home in my pockets. An expired bag of Lactated Ringer's. A couple of vials of lidocaine. Sutures in various sizes. A tourniquet or two. Nothing advanced, but enough to provide some basic medical care while I convinced Julia to take her friend to the hospital. She'd been so nervous, when she had been in the Emergency Department. She'd begged not to get law enforcement involved. No social workers. The track marks. The tattoos. The repeat visits for broken bones and venereal diseases. I could help her, if she would trust me.

Tell me where you are, Julia. Let me help. No cops. Just me.

I—I—I'm at the port. We've been staying in one of the ships.

The empty train to the port. The break in the chain link fence. The abandoned ship. Julia appearing from the darkness, pale and shivering. Her dark hair was lank, shielding her darker eyes. She hastily pulled down her sleeves to cover the fresh bruises and track marks on her arms.

Where is your friend, Julia? I looked for another person, but we were alone in the shadow of the rusted vessel. The sound of the water against the hull surrounded us. Julia's backs stiffened. Her face as tear-streaked when she turned.

I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry.

My chest cramped with sudden fear: I should have told someone I where I was going. I should not have come. I reached for my cell phone despite knowing that I'd have no reception in this ironclad deathtrap.

A hand circled around my wrist. We were suddenly not alone.

Good work, Julia. You've done well.

I hadn't remembered that voice. A man's voice. A soft, pleased baritone. The surprise shattered the grip of the fractured memory. But she was here. I could ask her. I could know.

The narrow face that stared back at me wasn't the one I'd expected. I imagined the shadowed eyes, the gaunt cheek bones... but they weren't there. The nose was too long. Julia's eyes weren't blue. My stomach sank. It wasn't her. I was losing it.

"Sorry," I said weakly, drawing my hand back. It obviously wasn't Julia. She was too tall, too tan. I swallowed and apologized again. Despite the fact that my brain knew that no one in the busy market cared that I had chased down a stranger, I could not shake the prickly, skin-tight feeling that everyone was watching and judging. That I was trapped in a crowd of enemies. My pulse scratched against my throat. My legs ached to run. You're fine. I forced myself to still. You're fine. To smile. It came out like a grimace. "I thought you were someone else."