Chapter 3
Madison’s arm hurt, unpleasant ringing drilled through her ears into her head. The hospital floor felt cold and sticky under her. Strange sounds came from all around her, but she heard it as if through water. She moaned and tried to move to get her arm that was twisted under her into a more comfortable position. It didn’t feel broken or sprained, just awkward. Her body wouldn’t move.
Dazed she looked around. Interns lay as if scattered on the broken floor tiles. Red smears and puddles stained the tiles and wall everywhere she could see.
She had to blink several times before she could focus. The once pristine white wall opposite her had strange red patterns on them and it took a while for her to realize the wall hadn’t magically changed to red. It dripped with blood. Like a macabre painting done in red on white. Now I’m going to have to paint it again, she thought dazedly.
Through the screams and ringing in her ears she heard a moan. Viktor, who’d been flirting with her the whole afternoon, lay in a pool of blood, his limbs at a strange angle. His black skin was grey. She moaned and tried to get up to help him but still couldn’t lift herself off the floor. No matter how hard she screamed at her body, it wouldn’t budge. The world around her moved in slow motion.
Two white blurs raced around the room and her mind couldn’t make sense of it. Everyone else moved sluggishly, but what looked like two white coats darted like humming birds. Why could the blurs move while she was paralyzed? She blinked and they’d gone onto the next injured person. Interspersed between the white blurs was a green blur. She must’ve hit her head and that caused her to see moving white and green paint blurs. But how? What did she do before she ended up on the floor? Why did she end up on the floor? She managed to lift the arm not trapped under her and clutched her aching head. She’d been painting and then Viglar stood behind them. Maybe he tried to cut off her head. She gingerly touched her neck--nope, still whole and attached.
“What happened?” Her voice wouldn’t work. The words coming out slurred. Lost among the screaming and sobbing.
The green blur went from person to person and then it sped over to her. Madison blinked. A few aliens crouched before her, all their hands moving up and down in front of her, and then he pressed something against her neck. Suddenly, she saw only one of him, her focus improving. He held a silver gadget in his paw and leaned forward.
She cringed back. “Please don’t eat me,” she said in an embarrassing squeaky voice.
In the clips the resistance released, every now and then, they’d shown the aliens savagely tearing humans apart and eating their entrails.
“Human, I’ve never been that hungry,” he said in a voice that reminded her of ice, of glaciers breaking up.
She realized what she’d just said--to whom she just said it--and felt dizzy again. Now he probably felt justified in calling humans stupid.
He leaned forward and pressed something against her neck. Suddenly. the fog cleared from her mind.
“Rachel.” She forgot her embarrassment in her fear for her friend. “Rachel was next to me.” She clutched her head. No that wasn’t right, she’d gone to the restroom. Was she safe? “Rachel?” She meant to scream, but it came out more of a moan, lost among the screams of everyone around her.
“I’m okay.” Rachel crawled over to her. “I think the bomb was where the alien stood, but he doesn’t even look injured,” she said dazedly.
Bomb? Madison couldn’t grasp the concept. Rachel had no bruises or obvious injuries. She must’ve been far enough away to escape damage.
Viglar was already pressing something against another doctor’s neck.
“I thought he was going to eat me,” Madison said, still dazed. How did Rachel know where the bomb was planted? “Are you sure it was a bomb?” Her voice wouldn’t come out louder than a whisper.
“Madison, are you all right?” Rachel peered into her eyes. “You sound out of it.”
Madison forced herself to focus. “Yes, I’m fine.” She looked around, saw Viktor still lying in his own blood. She should’ve helped him sooner. He’d lost too much blood. They were going to lose him. For a moment, she couldn’t move, blind panic overtaking her. She couldn’t be responsible for another death. Not again.
Viglar tended to a severely injured woman not far from Viktor. Madison didn’t know the woman. She wasn’t a nurse or doctor at the hospital, but she was badly injured, her body lying at an odd angle.
“Alien, we have to help Viktor.” Madison didn’t wait to see if he heard her. She couldn’t get to her feet so she crawled over to Viktor and looked around for her medical bag. She’d had it with her for her next shift. His blood soaked through her white pants and her hands were slippery with it. When she turned back to Viktor she suppressed a sob. He was dead. He’d never again flirt with her, compete with her for promotion. She should’ve gone to him, tried to help him instead of wasting time saying senseless things to the alien. Once again, she was responsible for the death of someone. She’d been too slow coming to her senses, and Viktor paid the price.
“Out of my way, human.” Viglar did something to Viktor with a few silver devices he attached to his head, heart, and stomach.
Madison held her breath, she and Rachel holding onto each other with bloodied hands. Viktor’s chest rose and fell and his eyelids fluttered.
“He’s alive,” Madison breathed.
“Thank God, I couldn’t bear it if--” Rachel bit her lip and went to one of the wounded.
“He shouldn’t be able to do that,” someone muttered.
“Do not move for ten earth minutes,” Viglar told Viktor and moved on to the next wounded as if he didn’t just bring a dead man back to life.
The alien continued to go from wounded to wounded, moving a slim silver disk over them. It was difficult to reconcile the ruthless alien who’d decapitated people with the way Viglar helped the wounded. He might be rude and brusque, but he checked each and every human who’d been near the bomb. Two people died instantly, and he didn’t bring them back to life, but all the wounded people he treated would walk out of there.
He didn’t appear wounded or even slightly disoriented, and she heard more people murmuring how he was in the spot that should’ve killed him. That he was bomb resistant.
Rachel knelt in front of one their colleagues who seemed physically fine, but totally out of it. She took off her jacket and placed it over the shivering man.
“Why are you so sure it’s a bomb?” Madison asked Rachel who tended to a woman who sat staring around her with dazed eyes.
Rachel shrugged. “The noise for one thing, and the type of injuries. Abrasions, bone fractures, blast injuries, and so on.”
Madison spotted her medical bag at last and grabbed it with numb fingers. It looked the worse for wear but the contents survived the blast intact. “How do you know so much about bomb related injuries?”
Rachel shrugged. “I saw a program about it on the TC.”
Madison strongly suspected the bomb was planted to take out the alien specifically. Not that it did whoever planted it any good. “We suffered while that alien stood on top of a bomb and walked away unscathed.” She heard the bitterness in her own voice and didn’t care. Frankenstein helping everyone today wouldn’t bring back Rory.
“I’ve heard they’re bullet proof,” Sandra said. She seemed to have escaped unscathed.
“Those monsters probably killed my brother. If there’s any justice in this world, Dr. Frankenstein would’ve died,” Madison told her. Even as she said it, she knew she didn’t want him dead.
“Dr. Frankenstein,” Sandra asked.
For once she didn’t snipe at Madison. She had no visible injuries--all of them were in shock--but Sandra seemed unfazed. Though shortly before the bomb went off she’d disappeared and that bothered Madison, though she didn’t know why.
“It’s one of her obscure references to ancient writing,” Rachel said.
“He’s a fictional character, a doctor who re-animated corpses,” Madison told them.
Rachel tried to smile. “I get it, he brought Viktor back to life.” Rachel was pale and shaking, despite being in the bathroom at the time the bomb went off. She tried to sound calm, but Madison could hear the tears she tried to suppress.
“Yes, though people used to confuse Dr. Frankenstein’s monster with him, which is actually quite fitting, because Viglar is a monster and a doctor,” Madison told them.
Sandra and Rachel paled and focused on something behind her. Madison didn’t have to turn to know, said Frankenstein stood behind her.
Resigned, she turned to face the alien that still haunted her dreams.
Madison pressed her lips together, refused to be intimidated by that black gaze that sometimes showed barely there red tendrils. No alien could intimidate a Johnson from Alabama. Though she had to admit, she might run real fast if he went for his sword.
He stood practically on top of her, towering over her. She’d known he was big, but this close she could see impressive muscles bulge under his uniform. Raised veins ran down his neck and disappeared inside his uniform. What did he look like without his clothes? The fit of his uniform hinted at a really good body. And she wasn’t going there.
“Your arm, show it to me,” he said before she could open her mouth and get herself killed.
She considered refusing, but in the end held out her sore arm. She didn’t even realize she was favoring it. His hands were big and tough looking and her normally thin arm looked fragile in his grasp. It was a strange feeling, since she never thought of herself as fragile. His nails were different, more claw like. They said when the aliens slaughtered the humans at the Battle of No Name Town, their claws extended into lethal weapons. She couldn’t suppress a shiver, and he gazed at her face, before focusing on her arm again. That brief glance seared her.
“You should eat more, human. Your arms and legs are like twigs.”
Madison glared at him and tried to jerk her arm back. He held her firmly while he sent the silver instrument over her again.
Sandra snickered and Madison wanted to hit her. Of course, the irritating woman would enjoy her embarrassment.
“I will send a nutrition plan to your primitive communications device and you will follow it.” He briefly ran his scanner over her. “I will expect you to be in better shape in a month.”
Madison stared up at him. How did he expect her to gain weight and get in better shape when he made her work all the time? She worked so many hours, buying food just didn’t factor into her day anymore. She would’ve loved to tell him a thing or two, but didn’t dare, for fear he’d take her off medical duty. Before she could decide if she should thank him or kick him, he turned and walked away.
“There’s nothing wrong with my weight. You should see my cousin Becky. She had to tie knots in her legs to have knees,” she told the others.
“You do have quite a colorful turn of phrase for every situation. A little backwoodsy for my taste, but quaint,” Sandra said with a falsely sweet smile.
“Maybe Joshua could come and tell the alien that he’s overworking you,” Rachel said. She’d had a crush on Joshua ever since he came to the city to bring Madison some home baked goods from her mother. Madison had thought it would pass, but Rachel seemed fixated on Joshua.
“Is that the brother you’re supposed to marry,” Sandra asked sweetly.
Madison glared at her. Sandra didn’t even try to be subtle anymore, why did the woman hate her so? So, she was from southern Alabama and their county had had some problems in the last century. So, her family weren’t stinking rich and her brothers were a bit rough. So, they ran a successful moonshine operation. They had to make a living somehow. Hands fisted, she faced Sandra. “What’s your problem? I’m getting tired of you sniping at me all the time.”
Sandra’s lips pulled down in a sneer. “Some of us actually deserved our place in this hospital.”
Madison wanted to slap the sanctimonious woman and took a step forward, but Rachel grabbed her and dragged her away.
“Let it go, she’s just jealous. Let’s go and help make sure all the wounded are seen to.”
“In your dreams. You have nothing for me to be jealous about,” Sandra called after them.
Ignoring the irritating woman, Madison and Rachel assisted those people too injured to go home.
An hour later, they left the last person in the ward set aside for the bomb casualties. “Let’s escape before Frankenstein puts us to work. Though he seems awfully interested in you,” Rachel said.
“What do you mean? He worked on everybody not just me.” And he said she looked like a stick figure.
“You’re the only one he talked to.”
“It was about my arm and him telling me in his professional opinion I was too thin. Nothing personal.”
“He watches you all the time. I noticed it yesterday,” Rachel insisted. “Whenever he comes into a room he looks around until he finds you.”
“No, it must’ve been your imagination. Or it’s because I keep bugging him in his office. He’s probably making sure where I am so I can’t corner him again.”
“Honestly, every time he came to check on us he would stare at you for a few minutes. Maybe he thinks you’re pretty,” Rachel said with an arch smile.
Madison shuddered and even if she was given the choice of being gator bait or telling the truth she’d never admit that the shudders weren’t totally distaste. “Don’t even think that. Alien eeuw.” Except she dreamed about him, night after night, no matter how tired she was she dreamt those sensuous dreams that left her aching and wanting.
“Miss Johnson, Miss Brown, I assume you’re ready to resume your painting duties. You each have an hour left.” Jacobson stood looking at them, failing to hide his pleasure at giving them the bad news.
Madison’s whole body ached, and she had a throbbing headache. “What? I can’t believe this. We’ve just been bombed. I’m happy to help with the wounded, but do you seriously expect me to paint now.”
“Viglar has left directions that work will continue as usual. You have strict instructions not to allow the bomb to disrupt the schedule of when work will be completed.”
“What do you mean he left instruction? Where is he?”
“You do not need to know his movements.” He tried to look all-knowing and superior, but Madison wasn’t fooled.
“Hah, I knew it. You don’t know where he is.”
“Come on, Madison, let’s get it done,” Rachel said and pulled her away from Jacobson.
They went back to painting with dragging feet. “I’m so tired I could sleep for a week,” Madison told Rachel. “I hope that alien gets a cramp for making us work even after we’ve been bombed.”
They both received new supplies and again she was impressed with the alien’s organization. She’d never seen equipment being replaced this fast. Her stomach turned when she faced the blood-spattered wall. They washed it down and then painted over the red stains. Twice she had to run and empty her churning stomach in the bathroom.
Clarkson joined them ten minutes later. He had a cut on his forehead, but was fine otherwise. “The resistance took credit for the blast. They claim it’s in retaliation for the people the aliens have driven out of the city.”
Madison was undecided about the aliens’ actions. Ever since they’d done that, it had been much safer to walk to her flat after work. If she knew it would end there, it might be all right. But what stopped them from kicking all the humans out of the cities? Or restricting them to certain areas?
“Hey, the aliens are issuing a statement,” someone shouted and activated a TC.
Instead of a TC image the same hologram who’d announced the conquest of earth appeared.
“In an act of human cowardice, a bomb was planted to kill my warrior. There will be consequences.”