Racing Against the Bullet

Tad's eyes stared at his doctor, then through him. But, where? Somewhere far off, destination unknown. The doctor held eye contact for a long while, then averted his gaze. Tad hadn't noticed.

“Mr. Smith?”

He cleared his throat, “Yeah.”

“Nurse Gentry will be in to discuss possible comfort plans.”

“That's it?” Tad's eyes engaged with the doctor once more. “'Comfort plans'? You're not gonna try to … cure me?... You're just gonna soften me to death and throw me in the heap?”

“Mr. Smith, at this stage in this... sickness,”

Tad scoffed, “sickness...”

“The best we can realistically offer is palliative care before natural or compulsory expiration.”

“Before you euthanize me.”

“Mr. Smith, I assure you, our only concern is to assist you through this … inevitable process.” Tad studied the doctor's face. He was speaking as though this were any given day. He was unaffected. It was just a job to him.

Tad's eyes narrowed a bit. He heard his mother in his head. Stay calm...

Tad wondered how his mother had remained calm when she felt that cold barrel against her neck. A thunderous boom and she was no more. A chorus of gasps before she slumped to the ground. Tad had screamed so loud, he lost his voice. His father collapsed. That had been a decade ago. He still had nightmares about it.

To Hell with 'calm'

His stare went cold. “How long.” His chest heaved.

Doctor Porter took a small step back, “Listen, Tad--”

“How long?” Tad's voice filled the space of the examination room.

The doctor's face went stolid. “Generally, around six months.”

Tad nodded, his nostrils flared. “Six months.”

Doctor Porter nodded.

'Six months.' His life had been reduced to 'months' because of some maniac.

Dr. Porter shifted his weight. Tad balled his fists. His eyes drilled into the doctor's.

“I understand how you're feeling,” The doctor's face was impassive.

Tod smoldered.

“but, I assure you... violence will only make matters worse. Especially for a man in your position.”

Tad felt a sharp pain in his temple. He squeezed his eyes tight.

“How are the symptoms managed.” His voice was cold.

Doctor Porter paused for a second, “Nurse Gentry can discuss treatment options with you, if you'd wish.”

“If there's a medication, I'd prefer that.”

“As I stated, Nurse Gentry can discuss treatment options with you. If you'd wish”

Tad took a few measured steps toward Dr. Porter.

He heard his mother's voice, calm.

“If there's a medication,” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I'd prefer that.”

The two men leered at each other for a few seconds. Dr. Porter broke the gaze, scribbled the name of a medication on tamper resistant paper and handed it to Tad.

Tad snatched his jacket off the examination table and walked out.

*

He decided to stop at the pharmacy on his way to... Where was he going? His head was spinning, racing...Angela. First pharmacy, then Angela's.

The elevator doors opened to the first level of the hospital. The line was snaking out of the pharmacy. He hurried to wait with the rest of them.

He shifted his weight from side to side. He checked his phone, his watch. Nothing helped. He wanted to scream as loud as he could, but he was silent like a still river: calm on the surface, yet ever running beneath. His mind wondered back to the night before.

He had been waiting in line at the grocery store. A homeless man ambled up to him. A pungent smell of urine and dirt orbited around the man as he approached, “Change, brother?” The scent drifted into Tad's mouth.“Sure, man.” He sat his hand basket down to grab his wallet. The man lunged for his arm and clamped down. His teeth were razor sharp. Tad screamed. Something tore in his throat. He felt the man's teeth slice deep into his muscle and tore a chunk of it away. Tad looked down and watched red cascade in a pool near his foot. The homeless man grabbed his wallet and took off. Tad fell to the floor, writhing in agony.

People were screaming, some stood in shock or ran away. The cashier had gone rigid. The manager was screaming something at Tad, but it was hard to hear. The man's voice began to dampen. Darkness closed in more and more. Tad heard less and less until he woke up the next morning in the hospital.

Nurse Gentry was the one who had told him where he was.“We're running tests right now.”

“Tests? For what? Did the cops find that lunatic?”

She was quiet for a few long seconds. “I don't know... Now that you're awake, we'll notify them and they'll send an officer.”

“What are the tests for?”

“Necrotic malocclusion , or, NMS”

“... Doesn't “necrotic mean 'death'?”

“ sort of, it's more like dying tissue”

“Does that mean my arm's getting amputated?” His eyes widened.

“Not sure.”

“I don't want to lose my arm.”

“Mr. Smith, losing your arm at this point might be best case scenario.”

“Sir?” The pharmacist's voice jolted Tad back to the present.

Tad took a few steps toward the counter and handed him the script. “Name?”

“Tad Smith.”

The clerk nodded, “Have a seat. The pharmacist will call you to that window over there when your prescription is filled.” He pointed toward the other end of the counter. Tad gave a nod and found an empty seat in the back corner.

He turned on his phone display. No messages. He searched through his contacts and found Angela. He knew he had messed up with her weeks before, when he had fallen asleep on her couch. She had used his thumb print to unlock his phone. Of course she went through his messages and discovered texts to and from Ashley and Capri. Of course, she had ended it.

She didn't answer the first three times. He expected that. I'll try again late tonight... If she still doesn't answer, I'll show up. He knew he had hurt her, but he also knew she loved him. He needed that love. He didn't want to die alone.

“Smith!” He heard the pharmacist's voice and looked up.

He stood up too fast and bumped his injured arm into the chair. He gritted his teeth. A few people looked over at him. He went to the counter and struggled using his non-dominant hand. He managed to show his I.D. to pharmacist, Stanley.

“Now, you're gonna take ONE of these each day. You've got a 1 month's supply here, and 5 refills.”

Tad's heart sank to his stomach. He only had 5 refills, because they only expected him to need 5 refills. 6 servings, and then...

“You may experience blurry vision, nausea, headaches...”

This can't be right... Tad's head was spinning. No more than 48 hours ago, he was a young, handsome man under 30 with the world at his disposal, his whole life ahead of him. Now...'6 months and 5 refills'.

“Do not operate a vehicle for at least two hours after taking this medication...”

His phone buzzed. He hoped it was Angela, but knew it probably wasn't. If it wasn't he didn't give a damn.

“If these side effects worsen, contact your doctor. Make sure to take one of these at the same time each day... Do you have any questions for me?”

Tad shook his head. Stanley gave him a tight smile and wished him a good day.

*

Tad checked his phone. The message was spam. He headed home to take his first dose of medication. He quickly fell asleep.

When he awoke, the pain medication had done its job, but the other... The room spun. His eyes were heavy. He looked at the clock on his nightstand. Blurry red numbers. He reached to bring it closer. His arm was heavy. His breath was heavy. His eyelids were sluggish. He grabbed the clock and dragged it closer. 3a.m. He had been asleep for nearly 12 hours. He checked his phone, nothing from Angela. He plopped back down on his mattress. It was damp with sweat. Tad didn't care. He gave in to slumber.

*

He woke up the next morning and felt better, but his arm was pulsing. He gritted his teeth and took one of his prescribed pain pills. He tried to ignore the pain as best he could while checking his phone. Nothing from Angela. He called her. No answer. He called again right after. “Hello?” Another man's voice answered. Tad's stomach went empty, his pulse quickened. The throbbing in his arm seemed to have disappeared. “Yeah, is Angela around?” He asked.

The line was quiet for a few seconds before the man answered. “No, you have the wrong number.”

He confirmed the number with the man. “Yeah, I just got this number bro.” The man chuckled. Tad offered a lite laugh and apologized before hanging up. The throbbing returned. Gonna have to go over there. He sighed to himself, but he was relieved that the guy wasn't her guy.

He hoped against any other hurdles he might have to jump, because time was running out. He purposed to drive over to her apartment around the time she used to make it home. In the meantime, he decided to research what NMS was and if there were any possible cures other than voluntarily succumbing to it. Later that afternoon he took his medicine.

*

Tad woke up at three in the morning, on top a sweat soaked mattress, with a pulsing headache. He burped. An unpleasant tangy essence of his lunch and something else filled his mouth. His arm throbbed. His teeth ground against one another. He tried to stand to grab his pain pills and plummeted to the ground. Both his legs had given out. His mind rushed back to watching his mother hit the ground. It all flooded to the forefront of his mind, burning bile surged up his throat. And there he sat. Legs weak, sweat drying at his back, blanketed by his upchuck.

*

He woke up the next morning and felt a lot better. He noticed something. Can't really go anywhere after taking the meds. He thought of Angela and picked up his phone. He called her best friend, Melanie, and asked for her number. Melanie refused but promised to let Angela know he was trying to get a hold of her.

“Please... It's really important.”

Melanie hesitated but only promised again.

*

Three days had gone by. No word from Angela. He delved deeper into forums of people who had been diagnosed with NMS. Almost everyone had complained about the medication, some even sited lucid nightmares. He kept scrolling.

His phone buzzed.

Angela: Melanie told me you're in trouble.

Tad sighed. The tension released in his body. He knew that if she contacted him, there was still a chance.

Tad: I am.

Angela: What does it have to do with me?

Tad: Can we talk in person?

Angela: Y?

Tad: Too much to text.

Angela: That bad?

Tad: Yeah

Angela: What did Ashley and Capri say about it?

Tad sighed. That was fair, but it wasn't the time for it.

Tad: You will be the first and only person I tell.

Angela took a while to reply before his phone buzzed again.

Angela: I'll stop by after work.

He relaxed a little. He decided to skip a night of medicine so he could be lucid. He took another dosage of pain pills.

*

Angela showed up that evening. Tad nearly cried when he opened the door. She wore a stern expression, but she was still beautiful. He grabbed her and hugged her tight. Tears spilled from his eyes. He hadn't known how much he had been holding in until that moment.

After a little while, she gently shifted away from him. “What happened?”

Tad told her about the attack, Dr. Porter, the prognoses, the medication. Angela's face was sorrowful. “How are you doing?”

“The best I can...”

Then after a while, she asked, gently, “Why did you call me?”

Tad looked deep into her eyes and knelt down. Angela leaned back a little. Tad grabbed her hand. “I know how it looks... but eventually, I woulda asked anyway, and...”

“You don't want to die alone.”

No, she knew him better than he thought she had. He looked at her for a long moment, truly looked at her. It was in that moment, that he truly knew.

“You're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Angela's eyes met his. She paused for a few long moments before taking hold of his shoulders. “get up.”

He stayed where he was for a minute. She repeated herself softly.

“Answer.”

“When I get proposed to, I don't want it to be under duress.”

“I'm not being forced.”

Her eyes softened, “Yeah, sort of, you are.”

They were quiet for a minute.

“But, I will be your friend. I will help you however I can.”

Tad broke their gaze and nodded. His arm throbbed. He welcomed it that time. Anything that would distract him from what had just happened. Angela took his hand in hers. They sat together in the dark until they both fell asleep.

*

Tad woke up early the next morning. He looked down and noticed they were still holding hands. He watched her, awkwardly seated, mouth agape. A fragile smile formed on his lips. He reluctantly released her hand and nudged her awake. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Today is my day off.” She stretched, “how are you feeling?”

Tad thought about it. That had been the first night he hadn't woke up sick. He thought of their hand holding. Neither one had let go, even unconscious. “Better, now that you're here.”

Angela nodded. “Let's eat, then do some research.”

They freshened up and headed to a diner.

*

The two researched NMS all day. Most people complained about the medication. Tad and Angela turned a blind eye to the posts about watching loved ones slip away. A few people had declared that home remedies helped them feel normal without the side effects of the medication. They made note of those posts, but continued looking for someone who might have found the cure.

The sun began to dip into the horizon before either of them realized. Tad cussed.

“What?”

“Forgot to take my medication. You're supposed to take it everyday at the same time. I already skipped yesterday.”

“Why?”

“So I could talk to you, lucidly.”

“You didn't get sick.”

“Naw, but...”

“Try it again... If you start to get sick, then take it.” she waited a few seconds then asked, “Does it make you feel better?”

Tad thought of the side effects and shook his head. “No.”

“Hmm... skip for tonight then. Let's see what happens.”

Tad thought about the past couple of days, then agreed.

He awoke early that next morning. No side effects. He was able to walk over to the love seat, no problem. “Ang,” He rocked her shoulder.

“Hmm”

“No side effects.” He was smiling. She smiled too.

That Sunday, the same thing happened. Monday too. Before tad knew it, the next four months had flown by without sickness. He had gotten grafts for the gash, and prescription refills at Angela's suggestion to avoid suspicion. He didn't take anymore of the medication.

Tad proposed again. “Ask again in six months.”

“I'm four months in.”

“I know.” she gave a suggestive grin.

One month passed. He didn't take the medication. Two months passed... He didn't take the medication. 3 months after his predicted death date had passed, Tad began to wonder. Had it been a miracle, or... a set up?

*

“I'm gonna have those pills tested.” Tad declared one night over dinner.

“You think there's a conspiracy to 'thin the herd'?” Angela spoke as though she had had the same thought.

tad nodded.

Angela rested her chin on her hand. “Do it.”

*

A week later, the lab called. The results were in. The “medication” was nothing more than a concoction of yellow threat zone toxins. One dose could make a person sick, Six months worth of the medicine nearly guaranteed death. 6 months.

Tad thanked the lab tech and hung up. He looked at Angela in disbelief. “can you believe this?!”

Angela shook her head.

Tad shot up and grabbed his coat.

“Where are you going?” Angela stood.

“The cops!”

“The cops?”

“Yeah! They're killing people!”

Angela lowered her voice and looked in Tad's eyes. “Tad.”

“what?”

“Thousands of people have died from NMS. Thousands. And counting. I think... they're probably aware.”

Tad's eyes narrowed. “What am I supposed to do then?!”

Angela looked at him. “Lay low”

“'Lay low'” He frowned.

“Yes. Whistle blowers rarely 'live happily ever after'”

“I can't just sit around while they try to play God. They don't rule over life and death.”

Angela's mouth tightened. She was quiet.

“I'll do it anonymously.”

“There are ways to name the unnamed.”

“Everyone will know, though. That's the threat. Widespread knowledge, outrage”

Angela paused for a long minute before responding. “I'm just afraid you'll be given another death sentence... and that time, you won't be given six months.”

Tad's mind went back to that awful day his mother had been executed for blowing a similar whistle. He finally understood why she had done it.

“That may be true...but a lot more will live longer.” He searched for his local news stations tip number and called.