When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (best ereader for textbooks .txt) 📕
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- Author: Vaughn Foster
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Tyler scanned the pages from the first nurse, wrinkled his brow, then set the clipboard onto the side table. He slowly approached the man, took a deep breath, then smiled. “My name is Tyler. I’m a nurse here. We’re going to get this taken care of, okay? Val said something bit you?”
“Do I have to tell you people again?! Just get it out!” The man leapt up and landed a fist square on Tyler’s cheek.
Val screamed. In a grotesque, owlish way, the patient’s neck snapped to the side as he eyed her over. Then he took a step. It was like a marionette maneuvered by an incredibly poor puppeteer, limbs flailing about, feet dragging in a disturbed, shuffling fashion. Dillon lunged across the room, but the man shoved Val to the ground. Her head slammed against the side table and everything started to spin. She strained to see Tyler staggering to his feet and the aide tackling the man to the floor. More aides finally rushed into the room and subdued him onto the bed.
“You’re with him!” he shrieked. “The shadow! You’ve killed me!”
Blessedly restrained, the man still flailed against the bindings. “I swear to god, I’ll gut all of you the way you’ve done me! I’ll kill you!”
The overhead light stabbed into Val’s eyes like white needles. She covered her face and tried to block out the room, but everything was still white.
Sound.
Everything was muffled, and loud, and intense, and twisted together. Somehow, over the pandemonium, she made out a voice. Dillon was talking to her. He sounded distant, but something about her head… A hand slowly helped her to her feet, then another found her back. Another set of hands appeared and she was ushered out of the room—all while the man continued to scream.
“Nosferatu! I’ll kill you all! I’ll kill every last one of you!”
Val stared at her reflection, adjusting the white gauze wrapped around her forehead.
“Dad, it’s fine,” she said into her headphones. Stepping away from the glass, she lowered herself to the floor to peer under the bed.
She almost wished she had never set up Emergency Contacts. Thankfully, Jason was still in Australia and without an international plan. If the hospital had called him first, she’d never get to sleep. Notwithstanding, she’d still been on the phone with her dad for two hours. Her mother, thankfully, had been more reserved.
“Get some rest, okay? Promise me you won’t go trying to run a marathon.”
And then she went to bed. Paul Stephens on the other hand…
“I know, hon,” he said for the umpteenth time. “I just can’t believe something like this even happened.”
Val’s father had been set to drive to her apartment in Greensburg, Pennsylvania, but a blown tire had delayed him long enough for Val to get her phone and dissuade him.
“Like I told you,” she said, relieved to hear the fight leave his voice, “it wasn’t that bad. He seemed more scared than anything else. It wasn’t intentional. The worst part by far was all the paperwork.”
“I bet,” he said with a sigh. “How is this gonna affect you getting the rest of your hours?”
“Not significantly.” Moving the mass of shoes, boxes, and old t-shirts out of the way, Val straightened herself out and turned her attention to the closet. She shifted through more clothes until finally spotting a fuzzy purple object. Triumphantly, she yanked the missing slipper from the suffocating black hole.
The room was always an incarnate war between order and chaos; OCD vs reality. On a perfect day, every book was aligned by the author’s last name on its shelf. Clothes were folded and/or hung by color and season. She crinkled her nose at a long-buried Chinese takeout container peeking from beneath overdue laundry. Reality had won this week’s battle.
“If it's Wednesday now, then they just want me to take the rest of the week off,” said Val, brushing black hair from her eyes. “But I’m good to go back Monday. I’ll probably grab my stuff tomorrow, but that’s about it.”
“Mm. Sounds good.”
Val could practically see her father nodding his head, then characteristically, wiping his eyes to pretend he was wide awake.
“Dad. It’s almost midnight. Get some rest, okay?”
“Just ‘cause Mom’s a lightweight doesn’t mean I’ll tap out so easily. You sure you’re alright?”
She crossed her arms. “I am. And I’ll be even better when I know you guys got a good night’s sleep before driving home tomorrow.”
“Yeah, because playing Scrabble for your aunt’s 80th was sooo taxing.” Even as he said it, his hearty laugh was cut short by a yawn. “Huh, maybe you’re right, sweetheart. I know you were supposed to come up, but stay put until the weekend. I still don’t know how I feel about you driving out here right away.”
“Mmhmm. Night, Dad.”
“Goodnight.”
With a sigh, Val plopped onto the mattress and scooted back to the pillows. She smirked as she kicked off the slippers, having gone through all the trouble to find them only to take them off. At least she’d have both of them in the morning.
She leaned back and again tried to imagine what Jason’s reaction would have been to the fiasco. He worked for a graphic design company that was trying to land a contract with some Australian media group. While she typically hated his absence, today it was a miracle his promotion sent him afar. If he was home and heard what happened, the man would have torn into the hospital like a lion, grabbed the first patient that looked the slightest bit deranged, and pinned the guy to a wall. He was the most pacifistic person in the world until someone touched his girlfriend. Or his dog. No one touched Fiona and lived.
A smile crept across
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