Chapter 33
I was lying on my back in the emergency room. A white curtain hid me from view. The noises on the other side of the curtain were loud and unfriendly. I liked my curtain. The pillow was flat, the examining table was hard. It felt white and clean and wonderful. It hurt to swallow. It even hurt a little bit just to breathe. But breathing was important. It was nice to be able to do it.
I lay there very quietly. Doing what I was told for once. I listened to my breathing, the beating of my own heart. After nearly dying, I am always very interested in my body. I notice all sorts of things that go unnoticed during most of life. I could feel blood coursing through the veins in my arms. I could taste my calm, orderly pulse in my mouth like a piece of candy.
I was alive. The zombie was dead. Dominga Salvador was in jail. Life was good.
Dolph pushed the curtain back. He closed the curtain like you'd close a door to a room. We both pretended we had privacy even though we could see people's feet passing under the hem of the curtain.
I smiled up at him. He smiled back. "Nice to see you up and around."
"I don't know about the up part," I said. My voice had a husky edge to it. I coughed, tried to clear it, but it didn't really help.
"What'd the doc say about your voice?" Dolph asked.
"I'm a temporary tenor." At the look on his face, I added, "It'll pass."
"Good."
"How's Burke?" I asked.
"Stitches, no permanent damage."
I had figured as much after seeing him last night, but it was good to know.
"And Roberts?"
"She'll live."
"But will she be alright?" I had to swallow hard. It hurt to talk.
"She'll be alright. Ki was cut up, too, on the arm. Did you know?"
I shook my head and stopped in mid-motion. That hurt, too. "Didn't see it."
"Just a few stitches. He'll be fine." Dolph plunged his hands in his pants pockets. "We lost three officers. One hurt worse than Roberts, but he'll make it."
I stared up at him. "My fault."
He frowned. "How do you figure that?"
"I should have guessed," I had to swallow, "it wasn't an ordinary zombie."
"It was a zombie, Anita. You were right. You were the one who figured out it was hiding in one of those damn trash cans." He grinned down at me. "And you nearly died killing it. I think you've done your part."
"Didn't kill it. Exterminators killed it." Big words seemed to hurt more than little words.
"Do you remember what happened as you were passing out?"
"No."
"You emptied your clip into its face. Blew its damn brains out the back of its head. You went limp. I thought you were dead. God"--he shook his head--"don't ever do that to me again."
I smiled. "I'll try not to."