Zia… The Diner— Secret Medical Chambers

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He’s in a deep sleep as the toxins work their way through his body. It’s his beast side that’s in control,” Miss Connie said, looking over at Greg.

Zia looked around the room. The same one that she’d spent time in almost a month back as she healed enough to go home. This time, she swore the room looked more substantial and equipment enhanced. Maybe Miss Connie’s medical suite morphed to meet the need?

Zia continued to stand near the area were her mate, and the youngster was as the others sat off in the distance of the open part of the room. She appreciated that they’d known to move aside once they’d done as Miss Connie directed. This left only Miss Connie and her in the active treatment area with plenty of space for the healer to move around and do her thing.

A powerful but oddly quiet air purifier produced a whispered whirl of air in the room. Other mechanical sounds hummed while the patients remained still as the dead.

They hadn’t been able to rouse Boogie or Greg when they’d gotten to Miss Connie’s. Now the two patients were supine on motorized hospital beds with see-through protective netting around each bed; that occupied in a state-of-the-art lab and pro-level medical suite.

Miss Connie checked a gage when the purifier began to flash blue.

“All right, my darlings, it’s safe to take your masks off.”

Each person took off the paper coned protective masks and passed them back to Miss Connie. If nothing else, the woman was a one-person medical team who left nothing to chance. Competence and confidence permeated the atmosphere. Zia appreciated and needed a bit of surety to help her deal with how wrong tonight had gone.

Zia couldn’t ignore the hypervigilance that drove her to stand watch over everything happening. “What about them? Will the purifier be able to reach the air trapped in that plastic netting over their beds? What about the fine particles of that dust being trapped in there with them? Will they continue to be drugged by contaminated air?”

“Look at that,” Miss Connie pointed to large black coils. One snaked from each of the plastic-looking coverings to smaller units. Those units appeared to be purifiers. “Each has his dedicated oxygen-infused purifiers. Those smaller purifiers clean, circulate and infuse their air with more oxygen. That aids their healing time.”

“I'm a worry-wart. It looks like you’ve thought of everything,” Zia had to admit.

“Never can be certain, but I’m going to throw whatever I have at the problem. Don’t worry, hun, they’re going to pull through this just fine.” Miss Connie opened a door that held a closet and retrieved another comfortable-looking plush rolling chair. “Looks like I’m not going to be able to get you away from there. Here, take a seat.”

Another room.

Outside, the whole of The Diner looked to be the size of her old bakery, which had been around fifteen hundred square feet. Adding this room and the one she knew as an interrogation room had to add another thousand square feet to that number.

Zia still couldn’t wrap her head around how many rooms were in the secret back area of The Diner. Like the Lair, with this place, looks were deceiving. For all she knew, this area straddled many universes too. That was her bet by how the place defied many of the earth’s natural laws and physics.

Zia’s attention stayed on the too still Greg. “Is there anything I can do to reach him?” she asked the healer.

“I don’t know, hun. Like I said, his beast side is calling the shots. Let me take a look at his blood levels to see if these tests gave up any information and identify what happened. I’ve run the same test on little Boogie over there. By the way, do we know what his momma named him? I don’t want to call that child something as plebeian as ’Boogie’ if he has a more proper name.”

“Sorry, that would be a no. I only know him as Boogie.” Zia’s voice revealed how tired she was. It was late into the night, and Greg hadn’t moved.

Miss Connie buzzed around the room humming in the same spirit as was her normal easygoing manner.

“Come, child, help me put these compression garments on him.” To Hildy, she said, “Hildy, love, please, do the same for Boogie. Don’t want either of them waking to throw a clot.”

Zia’s hands trembled as they managed to lift the dead weight of her mate. Once the garments were fastened into place, Miss Connie smiled at her and shooed them out of her workspace.

The older woman walked back over to the lab area. It was impressive and technologically intimidating. The complexity of the operation might as well be blockchain, the Internet of Things (IoT), and artificial intelligence (AI)—if they rolled themselves up into one. Zia would bet her king cake recipe on the idea that this lab was light years ahead of any on earth.

A notification dinged from one of the devices.

“Good. Time to see what’s going on.”

Everyone, including Wren and Quinn, who had come over from the Lair, held their collective breath.

Miss Connie read a scroll of paper as it flowed from one of her many machines.

“Hmm… That’s not what I was expecting. Was hoping for something different but, won’t let it throw a wrench in the program. No time for that.” Miss Connie’s normal light mood gain more heft and weight of serious concentration as she continued to read. Then the older lady’s attention locked onto another machine. That one behaved like the first when a similar scroll of paper began to sputter out. “Ah, okay,” she said as she began to read that as well.

No one spoke as her eyes moved down the pages.

“All right, listen up folks. Both Greg and the child have been drugged with the same substance with a kick.”

“And?” Zia asked, hoping the woman would give them more details.

“And, the dust used is a masterfully produced cocktail of an evil-challenged social deviate’s dreams. The core ingredients alone all carry a heavy damage toll. There’s the criminal favorite, Hyoscine, also known as Scopolamine and commonly referred to as Devil’s Breath. This ditty by itself is enough to turn a person into a walking, talking puppet. They’ll do whatever you want and not remember doing any of it afterward.

“The next ingredient is a synthetic stimulant called Alpha-PVP (ᵅ-PVP). Some of the street names for that nastiness are gravel, flakka, and the zombie drug. That crap is cheap to make and used in bath salts. For a bit of drug designer flare, there are shrooms or magic mushrooms chemically known as Psilocybin also thrown in. This version is particularly potent because of its purity.”

Miss Connie took a moment to shake her head in disgust. She huffed and continued reading off the information from the scroll. Zia was grateful for the added commentary to help her understand what each drug component did.

“The drug bringing up the caboose on this death train of a ride is common Methamphetamine—with a mutated kick. Not sure what the mutation does, but might be an amped up version. This bathtub drug swill is likely included to hook and addict the person to speed instantly. It also provides the base for the other psychedelics to run amok producing a high that is meant to never end until death or takeover. Let’s pray that this stuff never truly hits the streets or humans will be dropping like flies or worse.”

Miss Connie shuddered.

“Worse like what?” Wren asked.

“Worse like becoming open vessels for demons to possess. Child, don’t you know that drugs are a part of sorcery?”

Wren nodded. “I didn’t know about demons, and their connection is all.”

“Well get ready because something tells me someone out there wants to usher in their revival on the face of the earth.”

Cold fear fell over the room as the conscious members contemplated that scenario.

Ajax broke the silence when he asked, “You want me to take their clothes out and burn them out back?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want any of the remnants to escape. Once I have these two stabilized, I’ll take the clothes and apply an acid-lye compound to them. That will perform a complete breakdown.”

“Remind me never to cross you, Miss Connie,” Hildy said.

“She could write the handbook on how to get away with murder. That goodness gene is too strong of a force with her,” Quinn said, admiration for the woman shining through.

Miss Connie gave the group one of her signature smiles. “Unfortunately, whoever made this powder is a hateful cuss and most likely is a baby unicorn hunter to boot. This dust is particular in that it has timed release for the progressions of each drug to take full effect. Like I said, it first stuns the person into complete compliance as an obedient zombie. Then it knocks them out for a while. If they live to wake up again, that’s when the psychedelic nightmares happen with a kick of mutated Meth to keep the person hyped up and create an addict. Oh, and because of the Devil’s Breath, if anyone tries to figure out what happened to them, they usually can’t remember. Sometimes they lose as much as twenty-four hours of their life.”

Wren gasped in shock as Zia sat there too naturally stunned to say anything.

Miss Connie continued to scrutinize the readouts. “Whoever made this is on a master pharmacist’s level. I can’t help but marvel at the meticulous dedication to their craft. Doing this work for good would help solve some of this world’s biggest medical mysteries. It would provide legendary breakthroughs. That is if the creator wasn’t a complete psychopath,” Miss Connie lingered over the readout a bit more. “It’s that the amounts are so precise. They're balanced to allow each to have its full expression. All this without interfering with each other. That’s almost impossible with the volatility hyoscine brings to the mix.” Her face held a hint of marvel. “Yes, it’s awesome in the most horrific way.”

“Miss Connie, it’s like you have a hard-on for this guy. What gives?” Hildy asked in her direct manner.

Miss Connie bristled a bit at the insinuation. “Never going to admire an instrument of such death and destruction. I ponder on the mind that could conceive such debauchery is all. That genius of this level could be used to create such destruction is counter-intuitive to the humane element of all humanoid beings.” Zia heard the hurt in the woman’s voice as she continued to speak. “This douses a little more of my hope for this planet with inhabitants like this person. How cruel and sadistic does one have to be to create on this level of personal hate? No one deserves this fate. That custom concoction isn’t satisfied with being diabolical in what it does.” Miss Connie wiped at her eye. This was the first time Zia had seen any emotion other than joy flow out of the woman. “I know I keep going on about it, but I guess this is my process for unpacking what has happened to Greg and Boogie.”

“Please, talk about it as much as you need to,” Wren said.

The room warmed to usher in a collective empathy to induce healing from the chemical monster that had been revealed tonight in their midst.

Miss Connie spoke again. Therapeutic healing of spoken words drove out sorrow and hurt. The invasion of darkness the dust had brought into their midst had oozed with malice and twisted evil.

“I can’t get my head around why.” Mis Connie’s voice fell to a level that was personal and localized to her soul as she continued. “Besides the stun and psychedelic trip that it packs, the dust has the nerve to have a buffer. This mutated strain of Meth is pure overkill. Why be so mean? The sick bastard created this death dust for whoever ingested it to become comatose. Then the poor soul would wake up to nightmares and uncontrollable cravings for more. It’s so concentrated that the potency can take down way more than the average human. My assessment is based on the timeline you supplied for when our Greg received it. I don’t even want to think about what it does to the body’s organs.”

Quinn spoke. “Miss Connie, you mean to tell me someone dusted a kid with a super drug death bomb? Come on! He’s a kid. That is beyond sick. Let me wrap my head around this Frankenstein creation. Correct me if I get this wrong. You’re saying that this dust is a meth-laced, blackout, psychedelic shroom zombie drug?”

“Don’t forget that it’s set up to help usher in demons to possess the person,” Wren added.

“Oh yeah, can’t forget that nightmare-inducing component.” Quinn looked off to the sleeping form of the boy. In this state, he looked more like the child he was than the big boy he’d try to be the entire time. Quinn’s lips trembled as she held back tears. “Let me get my hands on whoever did this—the raggedy bastard. That poor baby was trying to be so strong. No wonder it knocked him out and then started to torture him. If the team hadn’t found him, Boogie could have been in a frenzied nightmare, hyped on adrenaline until his heart exploded.”

“No, hun, I’m saying that this is evil incarnate. The goal of this dust was straight up intentional extreme torture. Whoever did this did so with the intent to kill or enslave. You say that a sorcerer is behind it? I can believe that. Either outcome works for a sorcerer. You know they can gain power by sacrificing souls to demons and building an army of drug enslaved pawns. This is a case of power corrupting absolutely.

“Looking at the amounts still in their systems, it’s a grace that they are both shifters. Their faster metabolisms and ability to enter into some form of recuperative hibernation is the reason why they’re not dead. If that baby over there,” Miss Connie referred to Boogie, “was a regular boy, he’d be dead by now.

Hildy waved the card in the air. “Miss Connie, the sick fuck who did this knew Boogie was a wolf shifter. He referred to him as the little wolf. And if that’s not enough, the instructions say for Zia to go with those Imp goons. She can't have her phone, smartwatch or any other device that could track or trace her whereabouts.”

“Then what? They do the same to Zia?” Wren asked. “They better pray I don’t find them or I’m going to blast them into another galaxy.”

“Whoa there, Fire Starter, we need to get these two patched up, and Lucien and Matt must get back. After we get a solid plan before showing anyone our hand, might wake the others, too.” Quinn’s words showcased her gift of strategy even in the midst of high emotions.

“The showing our hand part has been done.” Hildy looked at the note and began to read. “It says, that Zia must arrive at the prescribed location by no later than seven p.m. local time or forfeit the antidote for Boogie. It goes on to say failure to comply means Boogie dies.”

Miss Connie looked over to the two beds. “That’s not going to happen. Now that I know what happened, I have something that will knock it out of them.”

Everyone watched as the grand healer and honorary matriarch of the Dragofin Clan went to a place behind them. She waved her hands to make what was a false wall disappear. The entire wall was a safe door to rival Fort Knox.

“Turn around kiddos. You can’t be tortured for what you don’t know.”

Everyone obeyed as she did something so quiet she might have been simply standing behind them for a small amount of time.

“Okay, got it,” she said.

Miss Connie walked past the group back to the area where Greg and Boogie were with a tall carafe of green-blue liquid. She treated the substance like a rare and precious item.

“After I give them this, we wait.”

“What is it?” Zia asked.

Miss Connie smiled. “Just a little gift from my ancestors and home planetary system.”

Zia didn’t miss the twinkle and wink the woman gave her. She also knew that was the most she’d get out of Miss Connie about the strange liquid.

Everyone waited as Mis Connie added a specific measured amount to an I.V. for each of her patients. Once the woman had adjusted the drip speeds and dosage levels on a state of the art monitor, she turned her attention back to the room.

“They should both start to come around within the next twenty-four hours. I want to keep them both here overnight at least for observation. They’ll be dehydrated. I’ll need to monitor and push the necessary fluids to help them regain their strength.”

Zia wiped at the escaped tear that skidded down her cheek.

“Miss Connie, are you sure they’re going to be okay? I can’t reach Greg. I’ve tried for a while. Are you sure? I need to know, please.”

Those pale blue eyes that crinkled with love and nurturing locked onto Zia’s. The older woman stared at her for too long for it to be casual.

“Ahh… Zia, child, come here,” something in Miss Connie’s voice had everyone in the room on the edge of their seats.

Zia was too scared to ask why. She got up and moved to sit in the chair next to one of the tables.

“While I examine our newest Dragofin mate, I’ll tell you why I need to move so fast and aggressively with helping Greg and Boogie recover. Roll your sleeve up for me, hun,” she said to Zia.

“If we must sit through a story, can we at least get some dinner? I’m starving. Haven’t eaten in forever. How about it?” Ajax asked.

“Yes, of course. Wren, would you call my assistant back here? Y’all get your orders in mind so you can tell him when he gets here. Wren do you have any desserts left?”

“No, ma’am, but I can whip up something real quick.”

Ajax’s voice soared in delight. “I’ll take an apple pie with a quart of vanilla ice cream, some of your butter toffee chip cookies. Make that a dozen, oh, and some of your truffle butterscotch fudge. It’s all in honor of Greg. I’m feeling blond desserts tonight.”

“Is that all? Or would you like me to make a caramel cake too?”

“Ooh, yeah, sis. Totally forgot about your caramel cake.” Ajax looked around and announced, “I won’t be sharing any of that, so make sure you order what you want—Quinn, talking to you.”

“Pumpkin, I wouldn’t dare try to eat off any of y’all plates tonight. You did your thing with this whole mess. Eat and be merry.”

Hildy jumped back in. “Miss Connie, while my glutton of a mate tries to eat you and Wren out of house and home, I’d like you to continue your story. From what Zia was able to get out of Boogie, it seems like this drug combo and some shady characters are the reason why we’ve had such an increase in kidnappings and overdose deaths. Not to mention, those two young guys with the Imp tagalongs. They said they were introduced to their hosts through drugs.”

Miss Connie continued to work on Zia as she thought.

“That lines up with what I’ve seen a few times before but not on this level. The idea of dusting is used as a way to enslave the victim. Usually, by the time the person wakes to the amped up high from hell, they’re begging to get off the ride. I’ve seen folks be willing to go into prostitution, modern-day slavery, and in some cases, offer to become a host for demons, all to get relief. What no one tells them is that without the right antidote that hasn’t been discovered or created in earth’s realm yet, they have either a lifelong addiction or death. This dust is way more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?” Zia asked, hoping that to be the case.

“No, not about this. Without the elixir I’m giving those two, their road to recover without it would be long, painful and precarious. The only cure available to average humans if they’d been dusted with this that I can see is a psychological therapy called Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, or CBT. Many aren’t able to stick with it to get relief due to the tug of addiction.”

Miss Connie grabbed her stethoscope and started placing it on Zia’s chest, back and then her belly. She worked in silence. Then Miss Connie moved to her other bank of machines where she put a sample of Zia’s drawn blood in one of them.

“Now we wait.”

“Okay? Mind telling me what we’re waiting for?”

“I’ll know when the results are in. Too soon to speculate.”

Miss Connie’s assistant appeared at the door. Zia had a hard time discerning his features.

Wren yelled across the room. “Hey, Cupcake, I have everyone’s order except yours and Miss Connie’s. What’ll you have?”

Zia didn’t want to think let alone choose food. “Wren what are you having?”

“You don’t want what I’m having.”

“I’m tired and can’t think straight. Just tell me.”

“All right. I’m having a green salad, Bananas with ham and melted cheese, a side of boiled eggs with ketchup, and sour cream covered red grapes for dessert.”

Zia’s mouth watered at the order. She liked how her friend ate. “Sounds good, I’ll have the same.” Her stomach growled, “Ooh, would you please add a side of a few slices of mustard toast with bacon, and a peanut butter grilled cheese sandwich fried in butter, grilled onions, and mushrooms?”

“Ew, you can’t be serious?” Ajax asked.

“Yeah, I like those additions too,” Wren could be heard giving the assistant the order, “Make this order twice. Miss Connie? What’ll you have?”

Miss Connie was lost in her work.

“Old woman! Turn your hearing aids back on and answer Wren,” Quinn yelled to her back.

Miss Connie looked up and smiled. My assistant knows what I want. To the mysterious figure at the door, she nodded and said, thank you. After Wren finishes, that will be all for tonight. See you in the morning.”

Loud beeps that mimicked sirens started to blare bringing Zia’s heart up to her throat. She followed the sound to see her mate bucking uncontrollably.

Miss Connie yelled over the fracas. “Quick, Ajax, help me get him restrained. Grab the widest belts from that cabinet.”

Zia watched in horror as Ajax jumped up to open the netting and straddle her mate. It had to be done, or Greg would have hurt both of them. For his part, Ajax moved with swiftness to get the restraints in place.

Once Greg’s body was cinched up tighter than a whore’s corset, Miss Connie motioned for Zia to come near.

The older lady whispered in her ear, “Speak to him and let him know you’re near. This is the worse of it. Once he gets over this part, he’ll be back in your arms.”

Zia did as she was told and leaned over to speak of her love for this man. His bucking and jerks were limited, but Zia hated to see him have to go through this.

Miss Connie stood close by reading his vitals with intense interest. Another notification bell rang in the short distance. Miss Connie moved to take a look at the results. Zia saw out of her periphery as the woman lingered at the table.

When she couldn’t bear to see her Greg in that state any longer, Zia stopped and stood up to look at Miss Connie. The rest of the room watched as if the three of them were on a stage.

Miss Connie said, “put your hand on his forehead while I tell you something.”

Zia did.

Miss Connie leaned in and whispered in her ear once more. “I have some newsworthy updates. Once Greg is back to himself, I want you to both come see me together.” Without looking down at Greg, she added, “You are refined through this fire. You’ll emerge stronger than ever before. For your patience and diligence, the Goddess has rewarded you mightily. Be healed with speed and return renewed to a higher power.”

The latter part of Miss Connie’s words was for Greg, Zia knew it. She was happy that they had some good news to share. Until then, it was her turn to practice patience and diligence at becoming the best mate she could be for him.

“Food’s here!” she heard Wren say.

“May I stay here and eat? I don’t want to leave Greg,” she asked.

“By all means,” Miss Connie said as she put the netting back in place. “I suspect everyone will want to stay with both of them until I put y’all out.”

“Thank you, Miss Connie.”

Wren moved through the small group of people with a tray laden with food. Miss Connie cleared a side table, and they all gathered around to eat.

Zia was famished. She took a bite of the peanut butter grilled cheese sandwich with grilled onions and mushrooms and moaned in pleasure. Melted butter ran down her fingers as she bit into the golden brown crust of the buttery goodness.

“Mmm,” Zia purred at the satisfying taste, texture, and her overall sensation response.

She didn’t know why she craved such odd food combinations, but eating this meal was one of the most fulfilling food experiences she’d ever had.

“I’m with you on that one,” Wren said around a huge bite of her sandwich.

The two women ate with gusto as the others watched in a bit of horror at the food combinations and delight in which they were consumed.

Miss Connie smiled as she looked at them.

“My sweet, precious girls. The Goddess is great.” As if speaking to herself, she added, “Thank you for allowing me to see this. I am truly honored and blessed.”

Zia did a little shimmy when she popped a ketchup slathered boiled egg half into her mouth. “Oh my freaking gosh, this is so good.”

“I know, right?” Wren said, mouth full.

Zia and Wren ate everything on their tray and finished before everyone else. By the time Zia had popped the last sour cream covered grape in her mouth, low-grade nausea she’d sported most of the evening had subsided. Her body wisdom had kicked in to give her exactly what she’d needed—food.

Miss Connie got up, looked over at her patients and then the others. “You all are free to stay for another hour and then you need to leave. Only Zia can stay after that.”

The groans and complaints did nothing to the lady’s resolve.

Once the others were gone, Miss Connie checked on Boogie and Greg again. By now both looked like ordinary sleeping men.

Zia caught Miss Connie looking at her with a huge smile.

“What? I didn’t do anything to help him.”

“That’s not what matters. He’s here, and you’re now family.” The woman squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving our Greg’s life in so many ways.”

Zia couldn’t bear the emotion that rose up. She allowed the tears to flow. “Miss Connie, I was so scared. I still am. He has to be all right.”

Zia was gathered into the arms of the woman where the aroma of ambrosia, buttered toffee, and other comfort foods filled her nostrils.

“He will. He has so much to live for. You’re the source of those reasons. Now, I want you to get some rest. Follow me.”

Miss Connie opened yet another door to reveal a little bedroom.

“Get some rest. I’ll be in here with the boys. If Greg wakes before you do, I’ll make sure to come and get you. Sweet dreams.” Miss Connie closed the door, and Zia allowed fatigue to claim her.