Robin Cook - Marker

"I know what time it is," Laurie snapped. "I have to call my doctor. I'm not supposed to be here. I was supposed to stay in the PACU until she came in to do her rounds in the morning."

"I hate to break this news to you," Jazz said. "But your doctor, like all the other doctors, is fast asleep. She doesn't want to be disturbed about some logistics problem."

"Stop this bed at once," Laurie commanded. "I'm not going to this room."

"Oh?" Jazz questioned, but she didn't so much as hesitate. She continued pushing Laurie's bed at a speed significantly quicker than the orderly. She was eager to get Laurie to her room. Earlier that evening, when Jazz had first come into the hospital, she had trouble locating Laurie. At first she thought perhaps Mr. Bob had made a mistake about the name of the hospital, but it turned out the problem was only a delay in Laurie's name being entered into the hospital computer system. Jazz had figured that out when she'd checked the ER log while getting the potassium ampoule.

"I demand that you stop," Laurie cried when Jazz ignored her. Laurie was forced to press her hand against her upper abdomen to control the pain. Yelling jarred her incision.

"I can see you are going to be a difficult patient," Jazz said with a short laugh. Actually, she felt the opposite. Laurie was going to be one of her easier sanctions, thanks to OB-GYN being full. Having Laurie on her floor while she was acting charge nurse made everything a snap.

At room 609, Jazz rapidly rotated Laurie a hundred and eighty degrees to push her bed into the room headfirst. As they crossed the threshold, Jazz flipped on the room's overhead light, making both women squint. Jazz maneuvered Laurie over next to the regular hospital bed, which was significantly wider than the gurney-like bed that Laurie currently occupied.

Laurie glared at the nurse, whose attitude she couldn't fathom.

She blanched when she caught sight of the woman's nametag: Jasmine Rakoczi. Despite the drugs still in her system, Laurie remembered it instantly as one of the names on Roger's list of people who had transferred from the night shift at St. Francis to the night shift of the Manhattan General!

"What's the matter?" Jazz questioned as she lowered the guardrail on the appropriate side. She couldn't help but notice Laurie's startled reaction. "Something amiss?"

Without waiting for an answer, Jazz pushed Laurie alongside the hospital bed. She grabbed the top edge of Laurie's blanket and whipped it off with a flick of her wrist, catching Laurie by surprise and exposing her to the world. She was clad only in a hospital Johnny, with her bare knees, lower legs, and feet sticking out. A bulge over the right lower part of her abdomen covered the dressing applied to her incision, and a surgical drain snaked out from under the edge of the gown and entered a plastic device that maintained a negative pressure. A streaking of blood was evident within the tubing.

"Okay," Jazz said dispassionately. "Scoot over there, and we'll get you nice and comfortable." She then went to the head of the bed and transferred Laurie's IV bottle to the pole on the hospital bed.

Laurie didn't move. The panic she'd felt from being taken from the PACU had ratcheted up a notch after seeing Jazz's nametag. She was paralyzed with fear. For all she knew, Jazz could be the serial killer.

"Come on, sister," Jazz said. She stepped back around to Laurie's side and looked down at her. "Let's move your butt over onto the bed."

Laurie stared back with the most defiant look she could manage. It was all she could think of doing.

"If you want to be uncooperative, I'll have to get Elizabeth down here, and we'll move you one way or the other. This isn't a negotiation."

"I want to speak to the charge nurse," Laurie blurted.

"Well, isn't that convenient," Jazz laughed. "You're already talking to her. I am the charge nurse. At least the acting charge nurse, which is the same thing."

Laurie's sense of desperation went up yet another notch. She felt progressively snared in a treacherous web of terrifying circumstance.

"Now, why don't you want to move?" Jazz questioned with obvious frustration. She extended her hand over Laurie to point out the room's amenities. "Check out that comfortable bed with all its controls. You can crank yourself into just about every position you can imagine and then some. You've got a TV, a pitcher for water with no water since you're still NPO, a call button for us slaves… all the comforts of home. What else can you ask for?"

Laurie's eyes involuntarily took in what Jazz described and did a double take. Sitting on the nightstand was a telephone! She questioned why she had not thought about it until that second. The orderly had even mentioned it. It would be her lifeline. Gritting her teeth, Laurie rose up on her elbows and began moving her backside over toward the hospital bed. Then she repositioned her legs and repeated the maneuver, inching herself across the divide.

"Very good," Jazz said. "I see you've decided to be cooperative. I'm pleased for both of us."

As soon as Laurie was in the hospital bed, Jazz moved across the suction device for Laurie's drain. She pulled up the cover that had been positioned across the foot of the bed and let it settle across Laurie's chest. She then took Laurie's blood pressure and pulse. As she did this, Laurie watched her intently. Jazz avoided eye contact.

"Okay," Jazz said, finally making eye contact as she lifted up the guardrail with a jolt. "Everything seems in order other than your pulse is a little on the high side. I'll mosey on back to the desk and go over your orders. I'm sure you have something ordered for pain on an as-needed basis. Are you in need, or are you fine at the moment?"

Laurie was amazed at the lack of normal human warmth in Jazz's voice and actions. Ostensibly, there wasn't anything specific that Laurie could complain about other than her requests being ignored, yet there was a worrisome detachment that seemed incredibly out of place, and as such, it added to her already considerable unease. There was something definitely strange about Jasmine Rakoczi.

"Cat got your tongue?" Jazz questioned with a wry smile. She spread her hands waist-height. "That's okay with me. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Frankly, it makes my job that much easier if you don't. But if you change your mind, you've got your call button. Of course, when you get around to pressing it, I might be involved with someone a bit more communicative."

With a final smile that Laurie interpreted as brazenly indifferent, Jazz walked out of the room.

Being careful not to move too quickly, Laurie reached out over the bed's side rail and lifted the phone. The effort required her to tighten her abdominal muscles, which caused significant discomfort. Gritting her teeth in the face of the pain, she managed to move the phone from the night table to the bed. She put it next to her, and then struggled to remember Jack's cell phone number in the face of her anxiety and the drugs she'd had. It took her a moment, but then it reassuringly popped into her mind. She then snatched up the phone receiver and put it to her ear.

Laurie's heart skipped a beat. There was no dial tone! Frantically, she pressed the disconnect button, hoping for the familiar sound. There was nothing. The phone was dead. Just as frantically, she grabbed the nurse's call button and pressed it, not once but several times in a row.

Although getting an attending's opinion on Sobczyk's short segment of EKG tracing seemed like a great idea, Jack hadn't factored in the attending's availability. When Jack and Shirley got back to the cath room, Jack found out that Dr. Henry Wo was in the middle of his catheterization. Jack was forced to resort to additional caffeine-driven pacing in the corridor, punctuated by frequent glances at his watch. Shirley stood by stoically. If she was aware of Jack's restless agitation, she didn't mention it.