Haunted (State v. Sefore) (2 page)

Chapter Two

M
addison hated all
Sundays, but this one in particular conspired against her. Throwing her messenger bag over her shoulder, she raced for the front door. “Disengage lock.”

She grabbed her remote from the bowl on the table and bolted toward her navy blue Chrysler 8, deactivating its alarm as well.

Footsteps pounded behind her. “Wait up.”

“Don’t you know what time it is? Why didn’t you tell me?” The sharp words bounced off Jakob, who shrugged as he dropped into the passenger seat. He tossed an apple into her lap.

“You might get hungry later.”

“Start ignition.” She tossed the apple into the console as the seatbelt locked into place. The strap rested at an awkward angle along her collarbone. She resisted the useless urge to tug it back.

The autopilot computer came online. “Identify passenger and destination, please.”

“Jakob James. Destination: PS 124.”

“Passenger and destination accepted.” The dash lit up, the clock displaying 7:38 a.m.

She tried to swallow the panic crawling up her throat, but it leaked out. “We’re never going to make it.”

“Well, then your car better step on it.” Jakob grinned.

The glare she shot his way didn’t make a dent. Her brother—unflappable in the face of fear. That used to be her.

She stomped down on the memories as the car shot out of the driveway and toward the corner. The computer’s GPS registered the time and replaced their normal route with a quicker but less maintained way. Her fingers curled around the steering wheel. She formulated acceptable excuses for their lateness.

She knew better than to be late for school and hadn’t been, not once, since the day after her parents … Well, the teachers had understood. She had no such excuse today. This morning’s noteworthiness lay in nothing more than being the beginning of another school week. No, the fault lay with her alone.

She found herself hitting the snooze button more and more, clinging to every moment away from school. The attendance panels, boring teachers, and a dwindling senior class trapped her in a rapidly tightening net.

“Look, the GPS already cut ten minutes off our route. We’ll be there in no time.” Jakob drummed his fingers on the door. “Radio on.”

“Radio off.” She shot him a glare. “Be serious, would you? I don’t want a visitation.”

His mouth tightened, and his hand stilled. “Neither do I, but we’ll be fine.”

Her eyes returned to the road as they pulled into the school parking lot and her assigned space on the far end. “You don’t know that.”

“We’ll run. It’ll be okay.” As soon as the car finished parking itself, he hit the manual seatbelt release, alarms blaring, and darted out. He sprinted toward the tenth-grade building, a blur of sandy brown hair, red t-shirt, and distressed jeans.

The clock read 7:57 a.m. Three minutes.

“Power off.” The alarms silenced, and her seatbelt flew off. She grabbed her bag from the backseat and swung around to open the door, activating the alarm even as she made her own dash. The cars in the lot stood alone, devoid of their usual groups of lounging students waiting for the first bell.

The trees and flowers along the manicured paths were the sole witnesses to her mad scramble for the twelfth-grade building on the other side of campus. The staccato tapping of her flats disturbed the peace in the courtyard. The doors of the main entrance slid shut behind the last stragglers. She sucked in a deep breath.

She quickened her pace but forced herself to stay under a run as she approached the doors. They opened without a sound. The camera mounted above recorded her speed, its red light taunting her. She controlled her expression and ran a hand over her hair as if she had nowhere else to be. As she walked past the open classroom doors on either side of the hall, the startled gazes of teachers and students burned into her back. She didn’t acknowledge them. She’d grown proficient in ignoring stares and whispers in the years since her parents’ liquidation.

As she came to a stop in front of room 108, her eyes darted to the time stamp on the handprint panel. It changed from 7:59 a.m. to 8:00 a.m. She shot her hand up to the blank screen, and it read her palm-print, temperature, and heart rate. A moment later, it registered her as in attendance, and she slid into the classroom.

Her blood pulsed through her veins as she took her seat, waiting for her name to be called. After all, the computer had logged her tardiness and noted her increased heart rate. Mrs. Rimes frowned at her but began the lecture. Her gaze only darted up toward the camera in the corner for a second.

Olivia shot Maddison a smile, and the air released from her lungs. Maybe a minute’s difference wouldn’t set off alarms. They wouldn’t pull her from the classroom, right? She took another breath, this one much deeper, and looked back at her friend. A large multicolored flower crowned Olivia’s light brown hair. Maddison couldn’t help but smile back.

Maybe Olivia and Sophie could come over after apprentice hours. It would make their standing ice cream date on Thursday night seem closer. Pulling her v-compad out of her bag, she tried to concentrate on Mrs. Rimes’ lecture. No good. The teacher’s monotone paired with the endless dates from history couldn’t hold her attention.

She pressed the awake button and pulled out the stylus while she waited for the compad to power up. The picture of Olivia, Sophie, and Josh from last summer flashed up as her background, and out of habit, her gaze fell to the left. She startled. A stranger sat beside her. His light blond hair and steel blue eyes were the exact opposite of Josh’s. Not that she’d really expected to see Josh in his old seat, but still. The stranger cut his eyes at her, and his mouth quirked an inch. He typed two words on his compad and tilted it so she could see the screen. “Brandon. You?” Where had he come from?

A set of heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she shot up in her chair. Everyone else did too. Her palms felt slick. Mrs. Rimes continued but spoke with more passion, shooting glances toward the classroom entrance. The footsteps paused outside the door. Maddison’s lungs stopped working.

A voice rumbled on the other side. The steps began again, walking further down the hall. Another door chimed open, and then two pairs of feet, one stumbling and one striding. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief—until the sharp four tones sounded.

Her head whipped up to the large vidscreens mounted at the front of the room, awaiting the local announcement. Most of the other students fidgeted, drumming fingers and shifting in their desks, but she kept herself still. The new boy did the same. Local or not, they waited for a government message, which meant one of two things: a Restructuring of Responsibilities or a Liquidation Update.

Considering that stumbling set of feet, she braced herself for the second.

*

“Blood pressure, temperature, heart rate, and respiratory rate.” Noah recited the vital signs under his breath as he slammed the door of his vintage gray Mustang. Three weeks of intensive CNA training had tattooed his brain with the information, but repeating it helped him focus his ever-stimulated senses.

Time to go to work. He fought a grin for a millisecond. No need to hold it back. Noah Save-The-World Seforé was a grinner. He crossed the employee parking lot in twenty strides, scanning the area. Forty-five cars sat in the lot. All midrange models. No unique stickers or strange license plates. No one loitered by the entrance. His internal radar remained silent.

The double doors glided open, and the polished voice used in all government facilities welcomed him. A wave of fruity air freshener mixed with bleach assaulted his nose, and he stopped inside the door. A few patients milled around the check-in desk to his left. He surveyed the empty chairs and orphaned snack shop while listening to their conversations. The man at the beginning of the line argued with the nurse behind the desk about his scheduled appendectomy. A mother placated the worried little boy in a cast. The woman behind them in a wheelchair mumbled nonsense while the middle-aged man at the back of the line checked his watch. For the beginning of the week, everything seemed relatively calm. Looked like Sunday wasn’t as frantic as he was led to believe.

At the employee terminals on the right, he swiped Seforé’s new vidcom and entered his handprint at an open computer. Answering its questions took five minutes. Lying to a computer required only the right pass codes and key words.

His first challenge arrived moments later. She strode forward, not pleased. Too busy to deal with a new CNA, he assumed.

“Noah Seforé?” Her tone dared him to contradict her.

He didn’t even blink. He’d been a Seforé for eighteen years before the Elite changed his name. This was the man he should’ve been. The man he would’ve been … if his attempt to throw his Gifting and Aptitude Placement had succeeded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Manners do you no good here. Keep up.” She pivoted and headed back toward the hospital’s center.

He caught up in two strides and kept pace. She raised an eyebrow as they turned deeper into the bowels of the hospital. The scent of antiseptic grew stronger, and he breathed through his mouth. Once in the break area, she pointed toward a pile of light blue scrubs.

He killed the smile. Working her would require playing the role of the intimidated employee, so he grabbed a set of scrubs and slipped back into the locker area. The part grated, but if it made Madame Director think she was in control, he’d use it. He changed into the uniform identifying him as a Certified Nursing Assistant, stashed his gear, and returned to her side within minutes. There went the eyebrow again.

“Your paperwork says you served in the ER at a hospital in Coastal South West for the last two years. Med/surg might not be the high intensity environment you’re used to, but I think you’ll find the diversity of your cases will keep you busy enough. Take the elevator to the second level and report to the nurses’ station. They’ll handle your orientation.” She handed him an ID badge complete with his archived picture before snapping the file closed. “Don’t ask me any questions. I don’t have time for answers. For your sake, I hope this is our sole interaction. Getting called to my office shouldn’t be on your agenda.”

Noah nodded, eyes averted, and walked around her toward the elevators. Once her footsteps faded away, he straightened his shoulders. Wonder if her attitude would’ve been different if he’d used his official last name?

No, she didn’t seem the type to relinquish her authority to anybody. Even if her life hung in the balance.

“You don’t scare easily, do you?” The voice floated up from his right.

Looking down at his unexpected companion, his smile returned. “I think I’ll wait until we’re in the elevator to answer.”

The blue-eyed sprite in pink scrubs laughed as the elevator opened. “Brave and wise, you must be ER staff.”

Noah chuckled, pushing the button for his floor. “You’re a bad eavesdropper.”

She leaned back against the wall, twisting her long chestnut hair up into a bun with a practiced move. “Not an eavesdropper. Just intuitive.”

Interesting. “Well, Miss Intuitive, you’re half right. I used to work in the ER, but I’ll be in med/surg here.” He held out a hand, using the opportunity to study her further. There were hints of green mingling with the blue of her eyes. “I’m Noah.”

She took his hand as the elevator dinged. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you are?”

As she exited, she shot back, “Miss Intuitive to you.”

Heat crawled up Maddison’s neck. What had gotten into her? She quickened her pace down the hall and hoped no one would notice her flushed face. Maybe she would be shadowing Dr. Wallace on the other side of the floor today. She could be out of sight before Noah announced himself at the nurses’ station. Right?

“Maddison.” Nurse Walker’s face relaxed at the sight of her. “I’m so glad you’re here. We’re slammed today. Three new admissions this afternoon alone: a gall-bladder removal, appendectomy, and a Crohn’s patient with a case of MRSA. Plus, we have a new CNA, and I don’t have time to show him the ropes. I need you to do it.”

She pasted on a smile. “No problem.”

“Great.” Walker looked over Maddison’s shoulder. “Maddison, meet Noah Seforé. Noah, this is Maddison James, my best apprentice. She’ll be in charge of your orientation today, and you can sign out at six when she does. But I’ll expect you first thing tomorrow for the full shift.”

Maddison allowed herself one moment to close her eyes and swallow before turning to face him. The corners of his mouth turned up as his gaze met hers. Why, oh why, couldn’t there have been two new CNAs today? Couldn’t she have flirted with anyone else?

“So, Maddison, is it?” Laugh lines framed the mirth in his ivy green eyes.

He didn’t seem eager to embarrass her in front of Nurse Walker. Maybe this afternoon wouldn’t be so bad after all. “That’s me.” She pulled her ID badge from a pocket and clipped it on. “Why don’t we start with a tour so you’ll get the lay of the land before someone sends you running for ice chips?”

“Lead the way.” He swept a hand in front of himself in a gallant gesture. A single butterfly took up residence in her stomach.

She took her time showing him the optimal routes to and from the various patient rooms and supply closets. By forcing herself to concentrate on the minutiae, she blocked out his confident gait, broad shoulders, and inquisitive face. At least, she tried to.

“Should I be prepared for a quiz on this material?” Despite his question, Noah appeared undaunted by all the information she’d thrown at him in the last thirty minutes. They rounded the last corner, back in view of the nurses’ station.

“No. I hate quizzes, so I won’t start giving them anytime soon.” Although she had more than one question for him—and none of them had to do with hospital procedure. They centered more around the topics of his relocation to Metro Area Four, his age, and if, based on his physique, he’d been a secondary school wrestler or football player.

“You can’t hate quizzes because you fail them.” His eyes studied her. She hoped he found whatever he looked for. “You wouldn’t be an apprentice at a hospital if you hadn’t scored well during your gifting placement. So, what is it? I’m intrigued.”