Callis Rose by Mark Tufo


  “Well that ought to take half my day. You’re going to owe me dinner for this.”

  “Thank you. You set up the reservation, I’ll bring you there.”

  “Love you, BT. I’ll call you on your phone when I find something.”

  Lawrence mumbled he loved her too before placing his microphone back on its cradle.

  “BT?” Wendy asked.

  “Nickname.”

  “Like a pet name?” Wendy laughed.

  “Something like that.” The familiar hot rush of blush running up his neck. “Any other inappropriate questions?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  “I don’t remember saying anything to stop you.”

  They were halfway towards the hospital when Lawrence’s phone rang.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Kendra began.

  “You found something?” Lawrence asked incredulously.

  “I almost feel bad I found it so fast. I called and made reservations to the Chop House before you could recant your statement.”

  “The Chop House! Do you know how much a detective makes? Forget it, what did you find?”

  “A call came in an hour ago from View Point Drive right on the outskirts of Highlands Ranch, couple of different sources, but the gist of it is that a woman’s dog attacked a girl, the girl stabbed it to death with a knife. And the one that did the stabbing also had another girl on the ground, the result of a Tasing.”

  “A Tasing? Are the girls in custody?”

  “No, eye witnesses say they fled the scene before the cops got there. Is this what you needed?”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Be careful, hon. Sounds like at least one of the girls is armed to the teeth and psychotic.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Looking forward to it,” she told him before hanging up.

  Wendy had only heard half of the conversation. “Someone was Tased? Do you think it’s Mindy?”

  “That would be my guess. She had another girl on the ground, that had to have been Callis. Tough to tell if Mindy is on the offensive or defensive.”

  “Were they caught?”

  Lawrence shook his head.

  “Still going to the hospital?”

  “Right now it’s the best thing I can think of.”

  Callis stumbled away from the growing crowd and the approach of the police. She didn’t know if they had yet discovered what had happened to the Fields, but she didn’t want to find out. She had been weakened from her control of Mr. and Mrs. Fields and worse yet with Talea. When Mindy had Tased her, she thought she would flat out die. It felt like her brain had been seared on a grill. Electrical misfires were scrambling her thoughts, blood poured from her nose and leaked from her ears in addition to dripping from her eyes. She knew enough to realize she was in trouble.

  She couldn’t be in any more pain if someone smashed the back of her head with a ball peen hammer, pulled the broken shell of her skull away, and exposed her throbbing brain to the heat of a desert sun as vultures tore pieces of her mind from her. She couldn’t take more than two or three drunken steps before she had to find something to support herself. If Mindy showed up now all she’d really have to do is push her over and she’d die on her own.

  Callis did the only thing she could think to do and that was find a way to get to Kevin. She staggered to the nearest bus stop, thankful that this one had a bench. She had to wait for twenty minutes until the right one showed. She had her head pressed up against the cool plastic shell of the small weather shelter as she waited. It did little to abate the pain that was blossoming behind her eyes.

  “Are you alright?” an older woman had asked as she had at first sat down next to Callis on the bench and then thought better of it. She had just that weekend watched a documentary on deadly contagious diseases – one of them being Ebola – and the girl had one of the symptoms if the blood trickling from her ears was any indication.

  Callis merely grunted. When the bus finally showed, Callis swayed up the stairs.

  “Great, another drunk,” the bus driver said, not looking as Callis fished in her pockets and dropped her money into the receptacle. She almost fell as he took off before she had seated herself.

  Mindy had run until she couldn’t breathe, and even then, she thought she should keep going. She finally found a place where she felt she could catch a breather. It was a tool shed in a yard a few streets over from her own. She sat atop the riding mower pulling in heavy breaths while trying to be as quiet as possible. She almost yelled out when her leg began to vibrate…or more specifically, her cell phone.

  She was about to answer and give Talea a ration of shit for scaring her when she noticed the caller ID. “Shit, it’s home. Well…I guess they know I’m not there now.” She didn’t answer it. She’d deal with that later.

  It rang again so she put it on ‘silent’ mode. She didn’t want to give Callis any extra way of finding her. Her screen lit up. This time it was an incoming text. It was from her mother’s cell phone; now she knew she was in trouble. Never in the five years that she’d had a cell phone had her parents ever texted her. They thought it was a rude mode of communication.

  ‘Where are you?’Her mother asked, Mindy thought it funny that her mother spelled everything out. She would have called her ‘square’ if they were back in the fifties. Her screen lit up again.

  “Shit mom, a little chatty today?” Mindy asked.

  She stood up and looked out the window in the small shed. She couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean the bitch wasn’t out there lurking somewhere.

  Mindy looked at the next message and her heart almost stopped. ‘Talea is in the hospital, her family is dead WHERE ARE YOU!’

  “Callis,” Mindy said, making the inflection sound as if she had said a curse word. For the first time, Mindy began to doubt the wisdom of her recent actions, and just as quickly moved past it. “Looks like we’re both murderers now. Odds are we’ll share a cell.” She burst out into a laugh bordering on the maniacal. She wondered if Callis was even now heading for her home and did she care? Her mother had threatened to kick her out. If they were out of the way, the house would be hers. She wouldn’t go into foster care; she was almost eighteen.

  She texted her mother back. ‘Im fine b home soon stay right where you are.’ Then she shut her phone off. Her mother wasn’t going to accept that as an answer.

  “Shit I need an alibi. At least you’re good for something, Kevin,” she said as she came out of the shed slowly, making sure her hiding spot hadn’t been compromised.

  The bus dropped Callis less than a block from the hospital and still it took her almost twenty minutes to make the journey. By the time she saw the emergency doors, a man in his seventies was ushering her in – her head hanging low, hair draped over her face.

  “I need a doctor!” the old man shouted as he came into the waiting area.

  A few moments later an admin came out with a stack of paperwork. “If you could please have a seat and fill these out, someone will be with you shortly.”

  “Hello, sweetie, why don’t you shove your paperwork up your expanding ass and get me a doctor. I don’t know this young girl, but she’s been assaulted and bad. She needs some help, now!” he shouted when she didn’t move. “That’s the beauty of being a former Marine drill instructor,” he whispered to Callis. “I expect everyone to move like my recruits in boot camp used to.” He laughed slightly. “Can you sit, sweetheart?”

  She nodded slightly.

  “I wish I had been there when this happened, I would have kicked his ass. Ex-boyfriend?” he asked as he helped her to sit.

  Callis could do little more than put her head against the wall as she sat.

  The old man winced when he finally saw Callis’ face in the harsh sodium lights of the hospital waiting room. Dried blood had left stains down the sides of her face. He knew people didn’t bleed from the ears unless they had taken a severe beating. Her eyes were r
inged in black like a raccoon, her nose was still pouring blood at an alarming rate and her skin had a sickly hue.

  “Lean your head back,” he told her as he fished out a handkerchief from his pocket like only those of his generation would or could. “I promise it’s clean, I’ve never used it. I basically keep it as a reminder of a different world…when even snot rags were something to be cherished and held on to. Weird I know.” He handed her the cloth and then brought her hand up to her nose. “That’s it. I’ll be right back. I’m going to put the fear of God into the staff until I get someone.”

  Callis was barely cognizant as he walked away.

  “I’m a goddamned war hero!” he shouted. “I need help now! Not going to look good in the Denver Post tomorrow if the headline reads, ‘Decorated War Hero denied service at Beth Israel Hospital.’”

  A medical technician came out wrapping a stethoscope around his neck. “Sir, what seems to be the matter?” the tech asked, thinking the man might just be drunk and looking for attention.

  “It’s not me, it’s my new friend,” The old man said grabbing the tech’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip. He wanted to make sure the man didn’t leave after his ruse was discovered.

  Once the tech saw Callis, he didn’t need any more prodding. “What happened to her?” he asked as he got down on a knee and began to check her vitals.

  “I found her outside. Poor thing could barely walk. I think her boyfriend beat her.”

  Doubtful, the tech thought. She didn’t have a bruise on her. This was something different, and for the briefest of seconds he wondered if even now he had been exposed to a contagion like the zombie books he loved to read. It always starts at a hospital. I told my girlfriend that if I was the first zombie or the first victim I was going to be pissed!

  Callis’ heartbeat was dangerously high, yet she could barely hold her head up. The physician’s assistant stood. He helped Callis to stand, wishing he had brought out a wheelchair. But now he wasn’t sure if she was contagious, and he didn’t want her exposed to anybody for any longer than she needed to be.

  “Gwen, hit the buzzer,” he told the receptionist. The locking mechanism buzzed then slid back with a loud thump. “Sir, someone will be back for you in a minute.”

  “I told you I don’t know her. I’m here to visit a friend.”

  “Sir, do not move. Do you understand me?” The physician’s assistant said with such force that the former Marine did not budge. He knew something was wrong, but did not quite know what.

  “Gwen,” Tom the P.A. said as the door shut behind him and he was sure no one else would hear him, “Quarantine level two. I’m going to room 103.”

  She looked up quickly, an expression of concern intermingled with a heavy dose of fear and concern on her face. “I’ll notify the staff.”

  “Get out of the hallway.” Tom motioned as he led Callis down it.

  “Where we going?” Callis mumbled. “Need to see Kevin.”

  Tom didn’t stop to find a chair, but rather helped her into a specially designed room for contagious diseases. They had received federal funding for the room after the H1N1 scare from a few years previous.

  “I need to see Kevin Denton.” Detective Tynes told the receptionist as he flashed his badge.

  “He’s in room 316, detective.” She buzzed him in.

  “You coming?” He motioned to Wendy. “Partner,” he told the woman at check-in.

  She had already forgotten about him she was so busy sanitizing everything after the girl with the bleeding ears had gone by. She had been fervently looking on WebMD for potential diseases and she wasn’t liking the laundry list of deadly viruses that were popping up.

  “My mother told me to go back to school and get a better job. Why is she always right?” she asked herself as she looked back to her monitor.

  The elevator stopped on the third floor. Tynes checked in which direction Kevin’s room was. “When we get close, I want you to hang back a bit.”

  Tynes approached cautiously, keeping close to the wall, his hand near his shoulder-holstered pistol. He stuck his head in quickly, noticing a boy in his bed apparently asleep. There was a girl sitting in a seat beside him. She stood rapidly when she saw him step in. The echoing of the chair falling over caused her brother to wake.

  “Mindy?” he questioned. “What are you doing here?”

  Mindy responded a little too loudly – partly from nerves and partly for the sake of her new audience. “I’ve been here for hours, baby brother. I wanted to see how you were doing.” She reached over, attempting to wipe the hair away that had fallen over his eyes. It was not lost on Detective Tynes how the boy reacted from her touch. He pulled back as far as his bed would allow.

  “What are you doing?” he asked her.

  “Excuse me, I’m Detective Tynes. I assume you’re Mindy Denton?”

  She nodded and he noted that she did not look concerned in the least. She was either a world class liar or a sociopath and just didn’t give a shit about what he was thinking she had done. Or there was a third less likely option, she had nothing to be concerned about; but he dismissed that one almost instantly.

  “Miss Denton, I’d like to ask you a few questions, please.” Tynes motioned for her to come out the door.

  “What’s going on?” Kevin asked.

  “Yes, detective, what’s going on?” she asked.

  She’s good. I’ll keep that in mind, he thought as he studied her face. “Please.” He motioned again.

  She had a momentary pang as she went to follow the detective. She noticed her Taser partly hanging out from between her brother’s mattress. That in itself didn’t prove anything, but the fact that she was trying to hide it might.

  “Do I need a lawyer?” she joked.

  “Probably,” Tynes answered, not joking.

  Mindy strode past and stopped. “What’s she doing here?”

  “Wendy, what’s wrong?” Tynes asked as he came out of the room. She was standing in an awkward pose as if she were about to take a step, but had thought better of it. Her left leg was bent at the knee the tip of her foot still on the ground. Her hands were up by her face and she was still.

  Callis was hooked up to a monitor and a man in a white lab coat was sticking something in her ear, apparently to gauge her temperature when she more or less came to.

  “Where am I?” she asked.

  “Beth Israel’s quarantine room. My name is Tom Shields. I’m a physician’s assistant and your first…well…second point of contact if you take into account the man who brought you in here. Good news is you don’t have a fever. The bad is that your vital signs are doing some erratic things and the bleeding from your ears and eyes have us all pretty concerned. I’m trying to figure out if you’re contagious or not so that we can get you down for an MRI. Do you remember anything that’s happened? Were you involved in some sort of accident?”

  Callis shook her head. “I just came here to see my boyfriend,” she replied groggily.

  “He’s here? In the hospital? For the same thing as you?” Tom asked. He was wondering if this was the start of a pandemic. If it was, this was not the side of it he wanted to be on: patient two…or maybe three. It was usually forty or fifty cases down before someone figured out what was going on and raced to a cure. If this were a movie, he knew he would be lucky to make it through the opening credits.

  “Paralyzed.” Callis said trying to cut through her internal fog.

  “You? Him?” Tom was liking this less and less. “Hey, are you guys hearing this?” Tom asked the video surveillance camera in the upper right hand corner. It was attached to a speaker so that a medical team could talk with the patient.

  Nurse Johnson had left the monitor room for a moment to grab another cup of cafeteria coffee. It was horrible and she was addicted.

  “Need to go see him,” Callis said as she tried to sit up.

  “Hold on, no need to try and stand right now. We can’t leave until we know what’s wrong with y
ou.” He moved in gently to hold her back down.

  His hands might as well have been defibrillators. As he touched Callis, something went off inside of her. “Don’t touch me! No one touches me unless I want them too!” she said with vehemence.

  “Sorry.” He pulled his hands back. “I was trying to help.”

  “I’ll show you how to help. Open the door,” she said as she sat up with some difficulty.

  “Are you suffering from delusions? I can assure you we aren’t here to hurt you.”

  “Open the door or I’ll make you scratch your own eyes out.”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t think you can even stand. I’m not sure how you’d be able to reach my eyes.” He laughed a little.

  She finally got into a sitting position. Her legs were hanging off the side of the hospital bed, her head hanging down, her eyes shifting up to look at Tom. He pushed his chair back; she looked deadly in that pose…and not from any virus or bacterium.

  “Oh, you’ve got it wrong. I’m not going to do it, you are.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked.

  “Open the door before you find out.”

  “I can’t, I can’t take the chance of exposing whatever you have to the rest of the hospital.”

  “What I have isn’t catching. Open the door,” she said as she placed her feet on the floor. She steadied herself and stood. She swayed for a moment and then found her balance.

  “You can barely stand, just lay down and let us take care of you.”

  Callis took hold of Tom’s hand.

  “What the hell!” he said as he looked at his arm that was now out in a rigid position, much like the Nazi salute from World War 2, which concerned Tom greatly considering he was one-quarter Jewish. “Is this a symptom?” he asked Callis. “Are you guys seeing this?” he asked the camera. “I have no control of my arm. This is weird and scary. I can sense my arm is there, but I cannot make it do anything. I feel almost like an electrical current running down my arm. It’s a mild pulse, but it seems to be interrupting my own signals.”

 
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