The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(28)

Hopeful that the whole ‘smothering me with a pillow’ bit might now be avoided, I leave Frank’s mind.



*



Next, I go searching for a doctor.

If I overdose from the shot the nurse gave me, a doctor might be able to save me. They do it to TV junkies all the time. Maybe I need an adrenaline shot to the heart, like in Pulp Fiction.

In general, I read that it’s rather difficult to die in a hospital if you have doctors around. That’s why people sign those ‘do not resuscitate’ papers. They don’t want to be saved under certain conditions.

But first you have to find a doctor. I run around the floor in the Quiet, trying to stay within a short distance of the room where my unconscious self is.

I don’t find a doctor, but there is a young woman whose ID states that she’s a resident. I touch her earlobe and focus.



*



Twenty-two hours on the job. We drink the espresso-spiked latte, but it’s now as effective as chamomile tea when it comes to holding on to some semblance of sanity.

I, Darren, disassociate from Jane’s thoughts. I’m wary of entrusting her with the mission I have in mind, given how tired she is. That she’s here in this condition and expected to treat patients borders on criminal negligence. I don’t have much choice, though. She’s the only person I can use in close proximity to the room where my physical body is.

First, I need to pillage her memories for a solution, to zero in on a memory of a specific topic. I did something like that once before, when I was searching for memories of my biological parents in Sara’s mind.

I decide to try the same method, only being more intentional about it. The topic is morphine overdose. I try to feel light, as if I’m trying to get deeper into someone’s memories. At the same time, I try to think of ODing patients.

“Jane, you will want to see this procedure,” Dr. Mickler says as we’re half-running after him.

“What’s wrong with him?” we ask, looking at the thin, pale-looking guy on the table.

“Heroin,” Dr. Mickler says.

I let the rescue scene unfold. There was no shot to the heart as in the movie. Instead, they used a drug called Narcan, which has a Naloxone Hydro-something as an active ingredient. It’s very promising, as it saved the guy from that heroin overdose, and his vitals were very bad.

I scan more of Jane’s memories, trying to find information about this drug. I learn that it will work for morphine just as well as it works for heroin.

I begin Pushing.

‘Get Narcan. Go to a room.’ I provide a mental picture of the path to the room.

‘Don’t get sidetracked when you see the nurse having an episode there. She’s being held by the police. The key priority is to help the patient the nurse accidentally hurt. She gave him 10mg of morphine.’

I play out different ways the whole thing could unfold. When I feel like there’s no other path for Jane but to save me, I reluctantly exit her mind.



*



I feel marginally better now that I’ve done something to fix the situation. I decide to get back to my body, phase out, resist falling asleep, wait a few moments, and then phase into the Quiet to see if my unwilling helpers are beginning their assigned work.

I walk back into the room, touch my frozen self’s hand, and hear the noises of the hospital return.





Chapter 13


I feel great. I’m not even all that concerned that Betty is about to try to kill me. The only thought I have is that it’s no wonder people ruin their lives taking this morphine stuff. It’s pretty awesome.

Somewhere I hear a door open. I’m only mildly interested.

I see Betty with a pillow in her hands. This reminds me that I’m supposed to remember something, but I’m distracted by this strange itch that I’m feeling on my arm. When I scratch the itch, it feels amazing.

Then Betty lowers the pillow on my face.

My respiration rate is slower than usual from the morphine; a memory surfaces, and through my opiate haze, I realize this pillow will make it even harder for me to breathe.

Phase into the Quiet, that’s what I’m supposed to do. But it requires me to be scared, which is hard at the moment, even with the knowledge that I’m being suffocated.

Suddenly, the pillow is gone from my face.

I hear a thud, which is supposed to mean something to me.

I make my best attempt to phase into the Quiet, but I feel like I’m floating instead.

My lids feel heavy. Very heavy.

I close my eyes, hoping this will help me concentrate.

Maybe if I snooze just for a moment . . .



*



I’m wide awake and completely sober.

Every hint of pleasantness from the morphine is but a distant memory.

I’m feeling sick.

Something is in my arm, something that’s hurting me, so I rip at it. There is a moment of pain and then relief.

I open my eyes and see that I’m holding the IV.

In front of me is Jane, the resident I Pushed, who looks surprised to be there.

She’s holding the other end of the IV cable I just took out of my arm; attached to it is a syringe. I assume the drug, Narcan, is in it, which means my Pushing worked.

On the floor is Frank, the guy whom I used to tackle Betty, the nurse who just tried to kill me. She’s cursing and trying to escape Frank, but he doesn’t let go.