“Mums the word,” I said as a replacement box materialized in my hand.
“That’s strange,” I said as I turned the box over and over. “This box is like the last one. No name.”
“Give it a minute. Sometimes they’re a little slow to catch up.”
Hauser and I sat on the bench, both intently focused on the box.
After what felt like an eternity, Hauser’s eyes narrowed. He looked into my eyes and uttered two words.
“Oh, dear.”
Napoleon’s Assassin
Chapter 1
Having maneuvered the endlessly stark hallways dozens of times over the past few months, I still couldn’t get use to the stench. A sterile, antiseptic smell hung in the air like an arctic fogbank as I passed through the bleak corridors. Walking along, I could practically feel my energy being sapped from above. I knew it was a figment of my imagination, but I still found it oddly ironic that in place such as this, where life preservation was the standard, the harshness of the overhead lights seemed to counteract that exact intention. I wondered why it was different in other parts of the hospital; color and life were prevalent throughout the decor, but here in the Intensive Care Unit, white was the preferred palette.
Moving into the central core—the bullpen—I glanced at the personnel behind the counter. Having been a constant shadow in the ICU wing, I felt I knew the entire staff by name. When I saw a new male nurse standing near the coattails of one of the doctors, my interest was piqued. In all the time I’d spent searching for the owner of the soul I was there to collect, I had never once considered that it might actually be a doctor or a nurse, and not a dying patient.
I walked toward them in hopes of gleaning the new employee’s name. As I stood near, listening to the doctor ramble on about the various patients’ conditions, I looked over the nurse’s uniform for any indication of his name. Unfortunately his ID badge had been flipped over, and I was unable to read the front side.
Finally, after several minutes of boring medical jargon, the doctor asked if Theo had any questions. After hearing his name, I didn’t stick around a moment longer.
I walked out of the bullpen and headed directly to room 742. As I approached the opening, I glanced at the medical chart hanging just outside, where the name Alistair Hobbs was printed clearly. I smiled and walked in.
As I slid the door shut, Hobbs looked up at me from his bed and smiled. “Hey, Jack. What’s the good word?”
“You know. Same shit, different day. How about you? Hanging in there I see?” I said.
“Well, I’m as surprised as you are. With the way these doctors and nurses prick and prod me, I feel like a human pincushion,” Hobbs said as he adjusted the oxygen tubes near his nose. “Have any luck?” he asked.
“Unfortunately, no. I’m just starting my rounds for the day, but…”
“Hey, Jack. Keep your head up. I’m sure Calvin will present himself when it’s time.”
“I hope so, Alistair,” I said, nodding. “Speaking of, did you by chance get any information out of the staff?”
Hobbs rolled his head from side to side as it rested on the pillow. “Sorry, pal, but as soon as I brought up another patient, they shut me down pretty quick, telling me that information was only released to family members. I couldn’t even get anybody to confirm or deny that there was anyone named Calvin even admitted in the hospital.” Hobbs closed his eyes and took in several deep breaths.
“You doing okay, Alistair?” I asked. “You look a little out of sorts.”
“Hey, you know. One minute I feel like I’m doing better, then the next I feel like I might not make it to my afternoon sponge bath.”
“And still no word? Your collector hasn’t shown up yet?”
“Nope. The only ghost I can see or hear is you, my friend.” Hobbs winked and smiled.
“Well, I’m sure that you’re not in any rush to move on into the afterlife, but if I’m seeing you and talking to you, I’m sure your collector is on their way.”
I felt awkward talking to Hobbs about his imminent death, but when I first met him two weeks ago, he had fully accepted the fact that he was going to die. In fact, he practically welcomed it with open arms.
“Is there a number you can call or something? You know, and request some assistance for me?” Hobbs asked with a grin.
“Ha ha. If there is one, my trainer didn’t give it to me. But as soon as I see him, I’ll ask him about the hold up. I’ll make sure he comes to visit you right off. Deal?”
“Thank you, sir. It’s not like I’m dying to get out of this world,” he said with another wink and a chuckle, “but if it’ll help with this pain, I’m ready to go now.”
“Sounds good, Alistair. I’ll keep you in the loop. But for now, I’m gonna go take a walk through the emergency room. With any luck, maybe my Calvin is just checking in. If I don’t talk to you before, be sure to have a happy afterlife.”
Hobbs nodded his head, then closed his eyes to sleep.
Stepping back into the nurse’s galley, I decided to run by the patient board to see if any new names had been added. After a brief check, it appeared that someone had rewritten all the patients’ names, eliminating all the first names from the list. All that was left was their first initial. I scanned through the names, arriving at a new patient’s name that began with the letter C. A quick glance to the side and I found that he, or she, was in room 715. Without hesitation, I was off to look for Calvin.
“Please let it be,” I said. I needed to move on from this soul and get out of this hospital.
As I sped through the stark hallways, I glanced at the room numbers as they decreased in count. Even numbers on the left, odd numbers on the right. Room 721. Room 719. Room 717. Room 715. I stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath before lifting the medical chart off the wall. It was clearly a new patient, as nobody had written in the patient’s name on the board above the hook yet. As I flipped the aluminum cover open, my eyes darted to the top of the chart to the patient’s name. Charles Grafton.
“Crap.”
I slammed the medical chart shut and slapped it against the wall, barely catching the hook at the top. I felt like punching a wall.
“Dammit, Hauser. Why is this so difficult?” I said as I blasted out of the ICU wing and headed for the stairway.
“Hey, compadre. If you ask a question of me, you might want to stick around for the answer,” Hauser called out from behind me.
Chapter 2
Hauser’s voice halted my stride. I spun around and found him wearing a doctor’s coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He was leaning casually against the side wall. I stared at him incredulously.
“What?” Hauser asked. “Didn’t you just call out for me?”
Exasperated, I walked up to him, prepared to give him a piece of my mind. But before I could say a word, he threw his hands up in the air.
“Slow down there, Jack. You’re the one that wanted to do this collection alone. I only gave you the space that you asked for. Am I wrong?” Hauser said.
“I… uh… yeah. I guess I did. I just thought that after—”
“Don’t sweat it, kid. I get it. It’s easy to feel the way you did after the successful sidestep of collecting your last soul. I guess I’d be feeling pretty invincible myself. But I don’t think I would’ve handled it quite the same way as you.”