Numbered

Chapter 5 - Market Mayhem

Zeke hobbled his way up the hospital stairs; he was already tiring out and he was only on the second floor. Maybe he should have taken the elevator, but he could not bring himself to go into one. A few nurses had given him an awkward glance that seemed to say he was crazy. Truth was, he was claustrophobic. He would not vomit like some did, but he would have a panic attack and he would eventually faint. Footsteps rang through the stairwell as another nurse came jogging up. Spotting Zeke, he halted and fixed him with that awkward stare, which was beginning to get on his nerves.

"You do know we have an elevator?" he asked, taking not of Zeke's casted leg.

"Yeah, I know," he responded. The nurse's glance told him that an explanation was due. Another sad truth was no one knew about his claustrophobia except his parents. "I...I'm, uh, claustrophobic."

"Matthew Zanders," the nurse said, thrusting forward his hand. "I'm claustrophobic, too. Hate the damn things, but they are there." Zeke took Matthews hand and shook it firmly.

"Ezekiel Faraday. Just call me Zeke."

"Alright, Zeke. Who are you here to see? I know a person does not hobble around a hospital for pure amusement." Matthew chuckled at his lame line, but Zeke smiled at the slight crack of a joke.

"Jacob Haverfield."

"Is he some relation to you?" Matthew asking, casting a glance to the folder tucked under his arm.

"No, just a lifelong friend, but at the same time, he is the last thing to a family I have left."

"Ironically enough, he is my patient. I'm walking up to go see him right now. I'll walk with you."

Zeke was thankful for Matthew's company, but he was even more thankful that the walk was in silence. Taking quick glances at the nurse, he took in his features little by little, until he had a full image. He had semi-long brown hair that was somewhere in the process of being straightened out. His face was aquiline and a little bony. His eyes were a steely gray, accompanied by a slightly crooked nose. It looked like he had a stubble growing, but it was too small to be certain. His body pretty much looked like a twig, but there was something that attested to a phenomenal intelligence.

The pair, rather Zeke, took a rest on the third floor. Zeke leaned on his crutch, trying to catch his breath.  Sweat trickled down his face. Being able to use only one leg was proving to be a real pain in the ass. On the positive side, at least he was getting a workout...of sorts. Matthew leaned his back against a wall, a tiny curve of his lips being the only sign of a bemused smile. Noticing this, Zeke suddenly felt rather irritated. Was this guy finding his struggle amusing? He was tempted to hop over there and wipe that smile off his face. Readjusting the crutch under his arm, Zeke started his way up the next set of stairs with Matthew following right behind him. It was a good thing Jake was on the fourth floor and not the twenty-fifth. He would have died before ever reaching the tenth floor.

Reaching his destination floor, Zeke proceeded to crutch his way around the corner and down the hall. There was no chance of taking a rest now, not when he was this close to his friend's room. Worry more or less served as his motivator, afraid that Jake had not made it through the night. Zeke could just imagine the surprise on Matthew's face at him taking off down the hall. Spotting the room number, Zeke opened the door and hopped in. Jake, seeing his visitor, sat up in his bed, his smile turning to a grimace in the process. Bandages were wrapped around his waist and up to right beneath his chest, only serving to pump it out more than it already was. Zeke hobbled over to the bed and wrapped his friend in a hug.

"How are you doing man?" Zeke asked.

"Pretty good. Still in pain, but still good. How about you?"