Give Me Myself - Part 1

PART 1:

   It was a dark dawn for New York City. The never-sleeping city laid in distress. Plumes of smoke danced like dark women, their dresses catching in air. The sky became smothered, and became inked with black and oranges, tainting the clouds with disease. But it was not without life. Helicopters traced the skies. Emergency ones blended with the orange sun, heading towards twirling fires to provide aid, black apaches provided ample chatter as they raced to various locations, seeking one soul in a city of millions.
   Alex Mercer sighed slowly in the growing light, the dark seeping away to the bright new day. His nineteenth day. One he never should have had. Only hours ago he laid in only a pool of blood and melted flesh, the aftermath of being involved with a nuclear weapon. The young man rubbed his sore shoulder. Even though he was pulled into one whole piece again by the help of one mere life, he was still sore even after hours. It wasn't easy being pulled back together tendon by muscle by bone.
   He frowned deeply when he heard an echo of a nearby helicopter coming ever closer to his location. His rest was over. He pulled himself to his feet and made his way down side-alleys and small streets, away from the bustling traffic of soldiers and terrified citizens. He kept to the shadows as if he was one of them. He knew where he'd go. He had attempted to go literally after his reconstruction, but he became weak all too quickly, his strength diminished. But at last, he almost felt like himself again.
   It took him barely an hour to get across to the St Paul's hospital he had visited so many times in a span of a few days. And not for medical reasons. He only had to swiftly escape detection twice on his journey there, but he encountered no other problem. Soon he stood in front of the elegant glass doors of the rear side of the hospital. Alex entered through the door and sprinted through corridors and almost flew down stairs. In almost no time, he reached the doors to the morgue, where a Dr Bradley Ragland worked as a pathologist. He was a tall man, reaching six foot in height. He was dark skinned, dark eyed and quite large in figure. A vast contrast to the five foot nine, skinny and pale toned Alex Mercer.
   Alex had seeked help from Ragland at first to rid his body of a vicious cancer that was eating him alive. And again he sought Ragland's knowledge about various creatures Alex had to face...to save his sister he almost lost. And now he returns. After leaving his younger sibling, Dana Mercer, in Ragland's care in a catatonic state, Alex walked through the double doors to check on her condition.
   The morgue, as usual, was lit brightly. Steel beds laid empty, but the containments were packed. Alex felt a cold chill run down his arms, but it was normal. Of course, it is a morgue. Alex looked around for Ragland or of his sister.
"Alex, I knew you'd come back...she's back here." Ragland appeared from an office further down, where the morgue would be closed to allow the doctors to warm their bones. Yet, it only seemed Ragland was here. Ragland gestured to Alex, inviting him down.
"Of course...she's my sister." Alex spoke in a single tone, his voice always serious and stern. He closed the large steel door behind him, as if to close a fridge door, to preserve the meats inside.
   Ragland's office was as tidy as his disposition. A long mahogany desk took over most of the wall; it was full of paperwork and forms, folders and text books, even charts. Yet, they each had their own pile. A tall green plant made a feeble attempt to brighten the room, alongside a small window, which let little light in despite the day fully alit by now. A dark crimson leather chair was half turned aside the desk, where its occupant had left it minutes ago. The other walls were either covered by posters of the skeleton or nervous system, or held up filing cabinets. The only factor that made the office personal was a small shelf above the desk, where several photos of Ragland and his family lay, smiling at the camera. Alex looked at these photos briefly, taking in the happy faces, the bright eyes...when was the last he had smiled? Had he...ever?
   But his attention was taken from him. Ragland had a small key in his hand, and he had started to open another door opposite to the main entrance door. A plaque on the wooden door read: Storage.
"You're keeping Dana in a storage cupboard?" Alex asked with a slight grunt.
"It's not exactly a cupboard. It used to be, but with all the new doctors-not that you see them-they had to expand it. The office next door had a similar cupboard, but they cut down the wall and made it into a larger storage. It's about the size of a small bedroom."
"Alright..." Alex didn't really care for the reason as to how they expanded a cupboard...or why. "How is she?" Alex was right behind Ragland when the elder man pushed open the door and switched on the light.
"I'm sorry Alex...but she's worse than she was last time you were here."
   Dana was a small woman, bony and pale, but not without strength. Her short spiky brown hair was stuck to her forehead where beads of sweat and blood had dried. She remained still on a steel bed, smaller beeping machines surrounded her, making the small-bedroom-cupboard seem cramped. There was barely room for another chair, which was placed by the bed's side. Alex turned to Ragland.
"You've been here all night?" He asked. Ragland simply nodded, and let Alex past him to stand aside his sibling. Alex just stared down at Dana, who looked meek and child-like in her sleep. Not the mouthy woman Alex had grown re-attached too during the fortnight they had before she was taken. But Ragland was right...she looked worse. "Is she infected? Do you know?"
"You should know more than me...but I myself haven't seen any signs. It could be good news." Ragland replied as he turned dials on machines.
   Alex kept his eyes on Dana, who probably didn't even know his presence.
"Alex, she needs more medication. I'll have to go upstairs for it, I'll be back shortly." When Ragland received no reply, he took his leave. The Mercer siblings were alone in the cramped storage room, with only the beeps of the machines to alienate the silence.
   The older sibling knew not what to do. Should he hold her? Beg her to open her eyes? Talk to her? He just stood there, staring at her. As if just that alone could work. Eventually, Alex lowered himself into the plastic chair beside the metal bed, pulling a few strands of hair off of Dana's forehead. Alex sighed deeply and leaned back in the chair. At least he had time to think, to think about what to do next, what was the next best option for them both.
   Alex only barely noticed his eyes had closed. The warm darkness his eyelids provided was worn away to flashing lights, his ears keened on the sound of loud warning beeping. He jumped out of his seat as if he were electrocuted. Dana was still as solid as before, but her chest had ceased. With a quick glance to the monitor, Alex confirmed what he already knew. She was flat lined.
   "Dana!" Alex didn't think twice as he quickly tilted his sister's head back, and breathed two large breathes into her mouth, he then clasped one hand on top of the other and pressed down on her chest. He continued this. His strength, unlike many men, never wavered. "Ragland! Ragland get in here!" Alex continued to yell, not looking away from the monitor as he continued CPR. There was no difference. "RAGLAND-!" Alex gasped slightly, he felt his hands go further into Dana's chest, and a sickening crack echoed through the small room…he had broken several of her ribs. He was just too strong.
   Ragland flew in like a bird seemingly out of nowhere. He got straight to work, carrying on CPR. There was no need for paddles in a morgue, they only had their breaths and hands to work with…and the work began to fail. Ragland stood back, breathing heavily.
"Mercer, Dana A. Time of death, 7:47am." Ragland muttered, almost as if to himself, as if it was merely a note to take down later.
"No…no! You're not calling it now!" Alex fumed.
"Alex, there's no more we can do! We've been performing CPR for too long, she's gone! Her rips have cracked and probably caused internal bleeding, there's no more-" Ragland gasped when Alex picked him up by the scruff of the lab coat.
"You're a surgeon! Fix it!"
"I work on corpses, not live beings! I haven't the equipment to 'fix' it!"
   Alex dropped the doctor to his feet. The long flat line beep seemed never ending. However, it took one swift punch to die out and silence. With his fist still in the glass of the monitor, Alex took heavy breaths. This couldn't be real. Dana was always so tough, not one to give in…yet she slipped away. She had given up.
   Ragland composed himself and placed a hand on Alex's wide shoulder, which still bobbed up and down heavily.
"I was looking forward to meeting her properly…you always seemed to eager to protect her…to save her-"
"Well I did a poor job. Because now she's dead."
"That's not your fault, Alex."
"I broke her ribs! I caused the bleeding-"
"She was dead before that…"
   Alex leaned against the bare wall, staring down at the now silent Dana. Forever quiet. Something he'll never get used to…her silence. Everywhere he went, death was sure to follow…and now he brought it to his own sister.
"…She wouldn't blame you for it Alex…after all, it was Elizabeth Greene that put her in this state. Not you." Alex ignored Ragland's attempts to lift Alex's sorrow, if it was that he was feeling. Alex was too numb to tell.
   The clock had almost struck eight when Alex spoke again.
"You know the last thing she said to me was?" Alex waited for Ragland to lift his eyes and listen. "She said, 'No matter what, you're still my brother'. She knew what I am. What I do-did…yet…she forgave me for it all. And look what has happened in payment…I brought this on her and nothing you can say will change my mind. Greene went after her to get to me…and it worked."
   Ragland hung his head slightly. "If that's your opinion…you were always too stubborn to change." Ragland paused. "What are you going to do now?"
"Bury her…I can't do much else…I'll take her when it gets dark, I'm still being hunted after all…"
"Are you going to the cemetery?"
"I have a feeling Dana wouldn't want to be cooped up with a bunch of old people…no…she'd want to be independent. I'll bury her in Central Park. Somewhere the little kids wouldn't dare go…she didn't look like the type to like kids. I think she'd appreciate the quiet."



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PART 2 COMING SOON