Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

THE KINGDOM :: 151
in his feet, the pressure in his head. He felt the panic drain
out of him so vividly that he would have sworn that a pool
was collecting on the floor.
After a few minutes, he was able to redirect his focus and
take in the room around him. Alameda Hospital was clean,
but older than many hospitals he had visited, and its age was
reflected in the shabbiness of its rooms.
This wouldn’t be a place where he would want to spend
any significant time. At least Randall is unconscious, he
thought. Or the angel, reminding himself of who the current
occupant was. He stared at the body, its chest silently rising
and falling, an occasional tic twitching a cheek or an eyelid.
Funny, he thought, he doesn’t look much like Kat. Sure, his
hair was black like hers, but that’s where the resemblance
stopped. Still, that’s the way it was with some siblings.
Just then, Susan’s voice rose above the quiet humming of
the room’s monitors. It was hard to fluster Susan, so he was
instantly concerned. He rose and followed her voice to the
nurses’ station.
“Problem?” Richard asked her, approaching the counter
at her side.
“They just changed shifts,” Susan said, holding her forehead
in both hands, “and the last shift didn’t tell them we
were coming.”
“They didn’t write anything down?” Richard inquired.
The corpulent African American woman seated behind the
counter narrowed her eyes at him without deigning to
answer. She exuded an air of arrogant superiority that did
not need to suffer these fools or any others.
“Did you show her the letter?” Richard asked.
“Of course I showed her the letter.”
The nurse cocked an eyebrow as if to say, “I am sitting
right here” and then turned back to her computer screen.
“So, no problem, call Kat and have her explain it again.”