Induction

Splashed across the bottom of the screen was a breaking news banner reading four dead in hospital attack. A reporter stood in front of the camera. “For those of you just tuning in, we’re coming to you live from St. Vincent’s Hospital where just moments ago police shot and killed a female attacker. Eyewitnesses report that a female patient began attacking other patients and staff in the Emergency Department shortly after midnight.

“Authorities have yet to disclose the identity of the attacker, or the three victims brutally slain in the violent assault. The scene is in chaos, and we have received reports that the attacker was mistakenly pronounced dead just minutes before, regained consciousness, and began attacking staff. We will continue to bring you real-time coverage as information is released. We take you now to chief meteorologist Ken Aspesi for more on Tropical Storm Ike.”

The scene flicked back to the studio, “Thanks, Jim. Tropical Storm Ike has just been upgraded to a category three Hurricane. Southwest Floridians can expect to see some severe weather in the next twenty-four hours. Tune in to Channel four for continuous coverage as Ike progresses.”

“Oh, my God, Jake. I was just there. I… I think I know the patient that did this. I mean, I lost someone tonight, right before midnight. I did CPR on her and they pronounced her dead. But she was dead. Really dead. I saw it with my own eyes. It couldn’t be her.”

I was floored by what I had just seen and reality crashed down on me. I realized Kat was still at the hospital. What if she had come down to say goodnight after her shift? Leaping from the sofa like a madwoman I caught my shin on the corner of the coffee table. “God damn son-of-a-whore!” I made a weird hobble to the kitchen table and found my phone.

At this point, in near hysterics, I was close to hyperventilating. With each ring of the phone that went by with no answer, I became more frazzled. Tears sprang to my eyes as I heard Kat’s voice mail pick up. I disconnected the call and redialed. The phone connected after the third ring and I collapsed into the chair.

“Thank fucking Christ you’re okay. Did you see it?” I cried into the phone.

“I was so scared that something happened to you,” she replied. “You never answered my text when I got done so I just went home. I had no idea what was happening down there until I got home and Sam met me in the garage. There is no way I’m sleeping tonight. I’m wired.”

Her kids could be heard in the background fighting with Sam about going back to bed. Kat sighed. She had the perfect family, the kind you would see in a packaged picture frame. Her husband, Sam, was a corporate big-wig, and they had two of the most adorable little girls I’d ever seen. They were the perfect age, too, five and seven. Old enough to be more independent and carry on a good conversation, but still young enough that you could shower them with hugs and kisses.

“Grr. They won’t go back to bed for hours now. Would it make me a bad parent if I did a little late night grocery shopping and brought them? I am so not prepared for this stupid hurricane.”

“Meh,” I said. “Go for it. It’s probably better to get it out of the way now than wait ’til the morning. You just know there’s going to be a frenzy.” A grin spread over my face as I thought of my fully stocked house. I utterly hated the grocery store, so when I reached the point that I could no longer sustain life on what stocked my pantry, I made a very expensive trip to Costco and was safe again for two months.

“Ugh, you’re totally right,” she groaned. “Girls, go get dressed, it’s fieldtrip time!”

I remembered what my patient had told me about the man attacking her at McDonald’s. It was less than a quarter mile away from the grocery store. “Hey, Kat,” I blurted before she hung up the phone, “be careful. I admitted a patient tonight that got attacked near there by some crazy dude.”

“Thanks for the heads up. And if I hear anything more about the hospital thing I’ll text you.” With that, she hung up.