CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and FIFTY-SEVEN
Friday midday — 11:34 a.m.
“They’re out there again,” Xanda, one of the med techs, said to Tanesha.
Xanda was a quiet African American young woman. She rarely spoke to anyone until Fin and Tanesha showed up in the ER. Now, she only spoke to them.
“Who?” Tanesha asked.
“Those jerks,” Xanda gestured outside the windows. “They say that we’re lying — that the ICU isn’t full. They show up with their weapons and. . .”
Tanesha turned to look at the young woman.
“What?” Tanesha asked.
“Someone’s going to get killed,” Xanda said. “You know — you, me, your cousin — it’s usually us.”
“What is this?” Fin demanded in his princely voice.
Xanda shook her head and walked away.
“She says that there are people outside with weapons,” Tanesha said. “They believe that we’re lying that the ICUS if full. They demand to come inside and. . .”
There was a shout at the door.
“I will take care of this,” Fin said.
“Fin!” Tanesha said, but he was gone.
She watched as Fin walked outside the ICU. Two of the guards bowed to Fin and moved to stand around him. Tanesha started toward the door.
“This is a place of healing.” Fin’s voice boomed over the chants of these armed protestors. “You are not welcome here.”
“Get him on camera!” someone yelled.
The guard standing at Fin’s right raised her hand. All of the electric devices burst into flames, including the hospital’s surveillance camera.
“What the. . .?” the leader of the protest asked.
Fin and the guards transformed into their new Fairy military uniform, complete with gleaming broad swords.
“You will leave here and never come back,” Fin said, in a low threatening voice.
The protestors were so surprised that one of them jerked his machine gun and shot off a round. Fin easily deflected the series of bullets with his broad sword. The bullets flew through the crowd.
The protestors began screaming and complaining that they were being fired at. A few of them ran toward their cars.
“Leave now,” Fin said.
There was a snap and the people disappeared.
Fin nodded to the guards. The guards held their broad swords to their foreheads and bowed to Fin. As he walked back into the ICU, his armor and sword transformed into the personal protective gear they wore in the ICU.
“Subtle,” Tanesha said.
“Look around you,” Fin said. “No one saw a thing.”
“That’s not the point,” Tanesha said. “Those guards are here to guard you?”
“I am a prince,” Fin said. “They are here to defend me, should I need them. You cannot ask me not to be exactly what I am as you deny what you are.”
Irritated, Tanesha squinted at Fin. He gave her a bright smile.
“And the people? Well, I assume you sent them home?” Tanesha asked. “You did send them home, didn’t you?”
“I may have,” Fin said with a grin. “They won’t remember that they were ever here.”
“Smart,” Tanesha said.
Fin gave her a nod and went back to work. More than an hour later, a doctor came up to Tanesha.
“Did you see that protest this morning?” the doctor asked. “They showed up with their machine guns!”
Tanesha made a non-committal sound.
“They just disappeared,” the doctor said. “One moment they were there and the next they were gone.”
“Weird,” Tanesha said.
The doctor sighed.
“This job. . .” The doctor shook her head at Tanesha.
“You make it look easy,” Tanesha said with a smile.
“If I were you, I’d never become an ICU doctor,” the doctor said.
A siren screamed indicating another patient’s oxygen level was dropping fast. Their conversation forgotten, the doctor and Tanesha ran to help the patient.
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow...
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