My curls were nearly dry, and moving irritatingly slowly, I used the comb in the hospital care kit to try to smooth out the tangles. The shampoo and cream rinse had been from the kit as well, and I wasn't eager to find out how much cracking the thumb-size bottles was going to cost me. I was betting five bucks a bottle. It was worse than the amenities fridge in a five-star hotel. But asking Ivy to run home and get my stuff wasn't going to happen. The less I was carting out of here, the less likely someone would realize I was a fleeing patient.
Before the Turn, you could ask for an AMA, or Against Medical Advice discharge, and be done with it. But after the quickly spreading pandemic had ravaged the population, legislation gleefully took away a lot of patients' rights. Unless you did the paperwork ahead of time, it took forever and a day to get an AMA. If I wanted to leave, I had to sneak out. I'd likely have cops after me as the hospital tried to protect themselves from a lawsuit, but they'd go away once the AMA came in.
My shower this evening had tragically turned from the expected forty-minute indulgence in someone else's hot water into a five-minute rush; the force of the water beating into me had made me dizzy, giving me the sensation that I was washing my aura off with the soap. But I now sat reasonably comfortably on the hard couch by the night-dark window, dressed in the clothes Ivy had brought over: jeans and a black sweater she had complimented me on the first time I'd worn it.
I'd thought a hot shower would be just the thing, but the activity turned into an exercise in learning how fast I could move. Or couldn't move, rather. My aura was uncomfortably thin, and every time I shifted quickly, I seemed to lose my equilibrium. I got cold, too. Oddly so. Almost an ache. Weird, Glenn had said. That was the word for it.
Giving up, I flicked the comb into the trash and wondered if anyone had bothered to tell Pierce what had happened and that I was all right. Probably not. It was drafty by the window, and when I peeked past the curtain, the gleam of the red and white car lights against the snow made it seem all the colder.
I reached to put on my coat and found a new scrape on the right sleeve. Crap. Frowning, I shrugged into it, carefully levered my boots onto the couch, and sat with my arms wrapped around my knees. My smiling giraffe was sitting across from me, and memories came creeping back, memories of me sitting like this waiting for my dad to get better or die, older memories of me waiting for my mom to come pick me up and take me home. Sighing, I dropped my chin onto my knees.
My mom and Robbie had visited earlier. Mom had been shocked when I told her it was a banshee attack, and Robbie predictably went off the deep end. His exact words involved hell and an ice storm, but he'd never approved of my career choice, so what he cared didn't matter. I loved him, but he was a prick when it came to trying to make me fit into his ideas of what I should be. He'd left when I was thirteen, and I would always be thirteen in his mind.
At least when Marshal found out I'd be sneaking out tonight, he'd asked if he could help. After seeing him take down Tom, I was of a mind to accept his offer, but I was holding him in reserve in case I had to flee my "safe house" for a new one once the AMA police came after me.
The almost unheard squeak of the oversize door drew my attention across the dimly lit room and I lifted my head. It was Ivy and Jenks, and I smiled and put my feet on the floor. Jenks reached me first, the slight dust from him leaving a faint trail in the dark room.
"You ready?" he said, buzzing around my damp hair before shunning my shoulder. He was wearing Matalina's latest attempt at pixy winter wear, and the poor guy had so much blue fabric wrapped around him he could hardly put his arms down.
"Just have to tie my boots," I said as I shoved the giraffe into my bag next to Bis's carved rose; I'd take it after all. "Are we set with Keasley?"
Ivy nodded as I sent my fingers among my laces. The cops would check the church. My mom's house was out, too, even if I wanted to put up with Robbie's pointed barbs, but Keasley could put us up for a few days. Ceri was spending much of her time in the Kalamack compound, and I knew he'd enjoy the company as well as the full pantry we'd leave him with.
