Tom’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t answer. He recognized the nurse, but her name escaped him. She lived just outside of Rickdale. She was one of the people he’d been concerned about getting stuck on the bridge in the fog.
“Sorry. Perhaps I should have started with explaining that I am one of the nurses caring for Jim. I was there when he was brought in, and the initial intake nurse with Dr. Peptic. I heard most of what he said. I knew you were coming. I can take you straight to his room. Dr. Peptic already knows you’re coming and is expecting you.”
Tom eyed her badge, grateful that her name was visible. “Thank you, Allison,” he said with a smile.
“Of course. I was in the lobby waiting for you, but you managed to sneak past me,” she confessed and laughed slightly as a blush crept across her cheeks.
“You wouldn’t be the first to say that. I have a way of being where I need to be before people realize I’m there. Comes in handy as a police officer. I catch a lot of things people don’t want me to hear.”
The small talk with the nurse calmed him. The memories playing in his head disappeared as they bantered back and forth, not caring if the people who joined them in the elevator overheard them or not. When the elevator stopped on their floor, he held the door open for her, and she squeezed past.
“Follow me,” she said, nodding to the nurses sitting at the desk at the front of the ward. “He’s just down the hall.” She stopped at the nurses' station. “Page Dr. Peptic, please. Let him know the sheriff is here.”
“Sure thing,” the nurse behind the desk said as she picked up her phone.
They entered the small hospital room. The machines took up most of the creamy, butter-colored wall behind the bed. A bland, sterile taste filled Tom’s sinuses. There were no windows, but Allison quickly pulled the curtain closed. Jim lay on the bed, barely recognizable, a line of drool dribbling from beneath his oxygen mask.
“And he came in like this?” Tom’s concern could be heard in the lilt and texture of his voice. It became thickly quiet, as if he held back a sob.
“No. He was worse than this when he came in. He’s been cleaned up considerably.”
The gentle swish of the curtain rings sliding open redirected their attention as Dr. Peptic entered.
“Sheriff,” the doctor greeted.
“Doctor. What’s going on?”
Dave moved to Jim’s side and watched the man for a moment. “He’s a bit calmer now. I hope that means he can give us some answers. Jim?” He patted Jim’s shoulder lightly and snapped the fingers of his free hand. Jim’s eyes fluttered for a moment before they opened fully. Jim’s hand reached up and tugged at the mask, and Dave removed it. He watched Jim struggle to breathe for a moment before his chest settled down and breathed on its own.
Jim coughed and tried to sit up, but Allison stopped him.
“Don’t get up, Jim,” Tom said.
Jim’s eyes sought out the voice. “Tom?” he said weakly, his eyes still searching but unable to focus. His eyes held a strange silvery glow around the milky whiteness.
“Is he blind?”
Dave nodded. “I believe so. His eyes looked like this when I brought him in. He was covered in blood, but when we cleaned him up, we discovered the blood only came from his eyes. Whatever happened to him out there...” his voice faded for a moment. “Whatever happened to him out there happened to the John Doe we have too, only he is completely unrecognizable. I’m sorry, Sheriff. I can neither confirm him nor remove him from your list. He was completely naked when he was brought in, so I don’t even have his clothes to help identify him.”
Tom nodded, but words failed him. “We have medical records on everyone in the town. If John Doe was born here, we’ll figure out who he is.” He looked at Jim again. “Dave, why did you call me here?”
“While we were cleaning Jim up, he kept saying something that made no sense to any of us. Jim?” He tapped Jim’s shoulder again. “Can you tell Tom what you told me earlier? Do you remember?”
Jim didn’t say anything at first. His chest hitched, and he couldn’t regain his breath, so the nurse replaced the oxygen mask until his breathing calmed. When she removed it, Jim shot up straight in his bed, his silver eyes glowing as he stared straight at Tom.
“You’re next. You’re all next,” he said. “She’s coming, and she won’t leave anyone behind this time. They’re all coming.”
“Who’s coming?” Tom asked, but Jim fell back against the bed. His chest stilled, and the machines blared their shrill, screeching warning. The doctor pushed Tom out of the room as they rushed around to revive him.
Tom’s jaw ground against itself as he watched from the hall. No matter how many times they tried to jumpstart his heart, it refused to continue beating. Dave continued the chest compressions long after they should have, breaking a couple of Jim’s ribs in the process. Tom entered the room and laid his hand on Dave’s shoulder.
“He’s gone, Dave,” Tom said with a shake of his head. “He’s not coming back this time.”
Dave groaned and nodded. He called the time of death and covered Jim with the sheet. “What will we tell Edna? I should have called her before now. She could have at least said goodbye,” Dave said as he covered his face.
As the Chief of Staff for the small town’s hospital, it always hit Dave hard when he lost someone, but this loss was especially hard. The Millers both came from prominent Rickdale families. Their heritage ran back to the beginning. Edna’s father may have served under Tom’s dad, but it was her ancestors who financed all the land and buildings of Rickdale through their bank. The name Miller was almost synonymous with Rickdale, as it was their lumber that built every home and business in the town. And the only answer he could provide for Jim’s cause of death gave no explanation for the state of his eyes. He was not looking forward to Edna and her volley of questions he knew she would rightfully ask.
“You didn’t expect him to die. You did right. She knows I was looking into a lead here. I’ll pick her up.”
Dave nodded, not quite comforted, but he understood the sheriff meant well. “Can you make heads or tails of what he said before he died?”
They’re all coming echoed in Tom’s mind.
“Not all of it. I suspect it has a lot to do with our resident lady in white, though. Who ‘they’ are is beyond my scope of understanding. Harlan returns first, and then Mae. We already know Harlan’s back. What other ‘they’ could there be? I have Curtis looking into the whole thing back at the station. Maybe he can shed some light on Jim’s final words. All I can say is, don’t leave the hospital if you can help it, especially if the fog’s started rolling in. Something happens in the fog, but until Jim here, no one has survived it to tell us about it.”
“My wife won’t be happy to hear that. We’re expecting number four any day,” the doctor answered. “I need to check on her.”
“Before you go, take me to see this John Doe?”
The doctor looked at the nurse who still hovered nearby. “Allison? Take the sheriff to see the John Doe in the morgue, please.”