Five Rights

At 4:07 in the morning, Kelsey Vane had two hours and 53 minutes left before she never had to see Mason Reed again. Not that she was counting. She was absolutely counting. Kelsey lived in Casey, Illinois, and had spent nearly four years making the drive north to Urbana for 12 hour night shifts at Carle Foundation Hospital. She hated the drive. She hated nights. She hated hospital food, hospital coffee, hospital politics, and, increasingly, hospital patients. At seven that morning, she would clock out for the last time. Monday, she started at a private surgical center closer to home with better hours, better pay, and patients who, as she had explained to another nurse at least six times that night, generally did not throw urine.

               Mason had never thrown urine. Kelsey disliked him anyway. He was 34 and had arrived at Carle three days earlier after a Clark County deputy found him wandering barefoot along a county road outside Casey shortly after midnight. Mason had blood on his clothes, a fractured wrist, two broken ribs, and a concussion. He claimed a pickup had struck him. Police found no vehicle, no debris, and no blood on the road.

               They did find Mason's shoes. Almost two miles away. Mason also had schizoaffective disorder and had apparently stopped taking his medication several months earlier. That explained everything as far as Kelsey was concerned. According to his chart, Mason believed people sometimes became "copies." Kelsey considered that interesting for approximately ten seconds. Then Mason became another room number. "Your boyfriend needs his meds," Tasha said.

               Kelsey looked up from her phone. "Who?"

               "314."

               "Not my boyfriend."

               "He asks for you."

               "He asks everybody if they've been replaced."

               Tasha laughed. Kelsey pocketed her phone. "Three hours."

               "You counting?"

               "Nope."

               "You've announced it every 20 minutes."

               Kelsey smiled. "Jealousy is ugly."

               "So are those shoes."

               "They were $200."

               "That makes it worse."

               Kelsey laughed and walked toward the medication room. Three hours. Then she was done.

               Mason was sitting upright when Kelsey entered. "You're late."

               "Four minutes."

               "Still late."

               Kelsey placed the medication cup on his tray. Mason looked at it. "What are those?"

               "Your medication."

               "Those aren't mine."

               "Yes, they are."

               "No."

               Kelsey sighed. "Mason."

               "My pills are white."

               "Manufacturers change."

               "The big one's blue."

               "Take your medication."

               Mason looked at her badge. Then the cup. Then her. "Five rights."

               Kelsey stopped. "What?"

               "Five rights."

               "I heard you."

               "You know them?"

               Kelsey laughed. "I'm a nurse."

               "Tell me."

               "Take your pills."

               "Right patient." Kelsey folded her arms. Mason continued. "Right drug. Right dose. Right route. Right time."

               "Congratulations."

               "Which one did you get wrong?"

               Kelsey pushed the cup toward him. "None."

               Mason picked it up. "Then you take them."

               "Mason."

               He smiled. "Thought so."

               Kelsey checked his wristband dramatically.

               "Mason Reed. Date of birth September 18th, 1991. Room 314. Happy?"

               "No."

               She scanned his wristband. Then the medication. The computer beeped. Green. "There. Technology agrees with me."

               Mason stared at the pills. "You trust that thing?"

               "More than you."

               He swallowed them. Kelsey left. At 4:16am, Mason began screaming.

               Kelsey reached his room first. Mason was pressed against the wall. "What happened?"

               "Get them out."

               "Who?"

               "The five."

               Kelsey looked around. Empty. "Mason, sit down."

               "They're standing around you."

               "Okay."

               "Don't fucking say okay."

               Tasha entered. "What did he get?"

               "Scheduled meds."

               "Which?"

               Kelsey recited them. Tasha frowned. "That's not his dose."

               Kelsey looked at her. "What?"

               "The quetiapine. He gets two hundred."

               "It said four."

               "No, it doesn't."

               Kelsey checked the medication record. 200 mg. She stared at the screen. "That's not what it said."

               Tasha stepped closer. "It's what it says now."

               "No."

               Mason laughed. "Right dose."

               Mason remained medically stable. Kelsey did not. At 4:39am, she checked the medication drawer. 341. Not 314. Room 341 belonged to another patient. Kelsey's stomach tightened. She pulled up the scan history. Nothing. No barcode scan at 4:07am. No medication administration. Nothing. "That's impossible." She remembered the green light. Technology agrees with me.

               Tasha found her. "Report it."

               "I know."

               "Then report it."

               Kelsey looked at the clock. 4:41am. "What happens if I report a medication error on my last shift?"

               Tasha stared at her. "Seriously?"

               "The surgical center can see disciplinary stuff."

               "You gave a patient the wrong medication."

               "He's fine."

               "That's not the point."

               "The scanner accepted it."

               "Then document that."

               Kelsey looked toward Mason's room. He was watching her through the doorway. "Give me a minute."

               "Kelsey."

               "I said I'll handle it."

               At 5:03am, Kelsey made the second mistake. She opened Mason's chart. Entered the correct medication. Correct dose. Correct time. Then she disposed of the packaging from what she had actually given him. She stared at the screen. Nobody would know. Mason was fine. The system had malfunctioned. It was her final shift. No harm. No foul. Someone whispered behind her. "Right drug." Kelsey spun around. Nobody.

               At 5:12am, Mason pressed the call button. She ignored it. Again. Again. Finally Kelsey entered. "What?"

               "They're closer."

               "Who?"

               "The five."

               Kelsey leaned against the wall. "Fine. Tell me." Mason looked surprised. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Engage without validating?"

               Mason pointed beside her. "One doesn't have a face." Kelsey glanced over. Nothing. "One doesn't have hands."

               "Mason."

               "One's mouth is sewn shut."

               "Stop."

               "The fourth is swollen."

               "Enough."

               "The fifth looks like you."

               Kelsey froze. Mason smiled. "Except she's dead." Kelsey headed for the door. "She says you got all five wrong."

               "I got one wrong."

               Mason tilted his head. "Did you?"

               At 5:47am, Kelsey went to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face. One hour and 13 minutes. She looked into the mirror. Someone stood behind her. No face. Smooth skin from forehead to chin. Kelsey spun around. Empty. She looked back. Nothing. "Get it together." She reached for a paper towel. The dispenser did nothing. Again. Nothing. Kelsey pulled manually. Something grabbed her wrist. She screamed. A human arm protruded from the dispenser. It had no hand. The wrist ended in smooth, scarred flesh. Kelsey fell backward. The arm disappeared.

               Tasha ran in. "What happened?"

               Kelsey stared at the dispenser. "Spider."

               "What?"

               "A spider."

               Tasha looked around. "In December?"

               "Leave me alone."

               At 6:03am, Kelsey had 57 minutes left. Mason was asleep. Vitals normal. Everything normal. Kelsey sat at the nurses' station. One hour. She could survive one hour. Then someone spoke behind her. "You aren't leaving at seven."

               Kelsey turned. Mason stood six feet away. She screamed.

               Tasha jumped. "What?"

               Kelsey pointed. Nobody. "Mason."

               "What about him?"

               "He was standing there."

               Tasha looked toward room 314. "Kelsey, Mason's restrained."

               Kelsey ran. Mason lay in bed. Both wrists secured. His eyes opened. "Fifty-six minutes."

               "What?"

               "She's excited."

               "Who?"

               "The one who looks like you."

               At 6:17am, Kelsey decided to leave. Fuck the remaining 43 minutes. She grabbed her coat and entered the elevator. Pressed one. The doors closed. The elevator descended.

               Ding.

               Doors opened. Third floor. Room 314 directly ahead. Kelsey stared. "No." She pressed one again. Doors closed. Movement.

               Ding.

               Third floor. Mason stood in the hallway. His restraints dangled from bleeding wrists. "Right route." Kelsey hammered the close button. The doors shut. When they reopened, she was on the first floor. She ran.

               The employee exit rejected her badge. Red. Again. Red. "Come on." Again. Red. Footsteps behind her. A woman stood 20 feet away. Her mouth was sewn shut with black thread. Kelsey backed away. The woman pointed toward the clock. 6:31am. Kelsey grabbed the emergency release. Alarm. Door opened. She stepped through. Room 314.

               Mason looked at her from the bed. "Right time." Kelsey screamed.

               At 6:42am, Tasha found her crying at the nurses' station. "Kelsey, talk to me."

               "I need to leave."

               "Then leave."

               "I can't."

               "What does that mean?"

               Kelsey looked behind Tasha. The faceless woman stood there. Beside her was a man with no hands. Kelsey looked away. "I made a medication error."

               Tasha became still. "What?"

               "Earlier."

               "I told you to report it."

               "I know."

               "Did you?"

               Kelsey did not answer.

               "Kelsey."

               "I fixed the chart."

               Tasha stared at her. "You falsified his record?"

               "I was going to fix it."

               "You just said you fixed it."

               "You know what I mean."

               "No, I don't."

               Tasha moved toward the computer. Kelsey grabbed her. "Don't."

               "Let go."

               "I'll do it."

               "You've done enough."

               Something changed in Kelsey's face. "Don't fuck up my new job."

               Tasha stared at her. "Your new job?"

               "I have 18 minutes."

               "You could've killed him."

               "But I didn't."

               Mason screamed from room 314. Both women turned. Five voices screamed with him.

               6:51am. Nine minutes. Kelsey ran. The main lobby was filling with day-shift employees. Normal people. She saw the doors. Outside. Freedom.

               "Kelsey." She turned. Mason stood beside the vending machines.

               "How are you down here?"

               People walked around him. Nobody looked. Another Mason appeared near the elevators. No hands. "Right patient." Another stepped from behind a pillar. No face. "Right drug." A third stood outside the glass doors, horribly swollen. "Right dose." The fourth opened his mouth. Black thread held his lips together. Kelsey turned. Normal Mason stood directly behind her. "Right route." She backed away. He smiled. "Eight minutes."

               Kelsey ran upstairs. She needed Mason's real body. Proof. 6:56am. She entered 314 and slammed the door. Mason lay restrained. "You." He opened his eyes. "Tell them to stop."

               "Who?"

               "Don't do that!"

               "I'm sick, remember?"

               "I made a mistake."

               "No."

               "Yes!"

               "You made a mistake at 4:07am." Mason looked at the clock. "Then you made a choice."

               Kelsey stared. "How do you know?"

               "The one without a mouth told me."

               "I'll report everything."

               "Now?"

               "Yes."

               "Because you're sorry?"

               "Yes."

               Mason laughed. "No. Because you're scared."

               6:58am. Kelsey opened the chart. She began typing. Medication error. Incorrect patient medication. Incorrect dose. She stopped. "What did I give you?"

               Mason smiled. "You still don't know."

               Kelsey looked at him. The realization hit. Right drug. Right dose. Right patient. She had no idea what she had actually administered. The lights went out.

               6:59am. Five figures stood outside Mason's room. Faceless. Handless. Mouth sewn shut. Swollen. Normal. Kelsey backed against the wall. Normal Mason entered. "Right patient." Another followed. "Right drug." Another. "Right dose." Another. "Right route." The last one smiled. "Right time."

               Kelsey sobbed. "I didn't mean to."

               Normal Mason looked at the clock. "One minute."

               "I'll tell them."

               "You had almost three hours."

               "I'm sorry."

               "No."

               The clock changed.

               7:00am.

               Nothing happened. The figures disappeared. Lights returned. Mason slept. Kelsey laughed. She covered her face. "Oh, thank God." Her shift was over. The clock clicked. 6:00am. Kelsey stopped laughing.

               Mason opened his eyes. "Your shift ended." He smiled. "You didn't."

               At 6:07am, Kelsey made the medication error again. She tried to stop herself. Her hand picked up the medication anyway. Reset. The next time, she refused. Her body walked to Mason's room without her permission. Reset. She reported the error immediately. Reset. She called pharmacy. Reset. She ran. Reset. She begged Mason. Reset. She smashed the medication. It returned to her hand. Reset. Once she made it outside. She found herself standing beneath the World's Largest Rocking Chair back home in Casey. For one glorious second, she laughed. Then every street clock she could see changed simultaneously.

               6:00am.

               Mason stood beneath the enormous chair. "Wrong route."

               Reset. Another time Kelsey locked herself in the bathroom and cut her wrists at 6:48am. She died. At 6:00am, she woke alive.

               Again.

               Again.

               Again.

               Eventually Kelsey stopped knowing how many times she had lived the hour. The five became creative. They forced pills down her throat until her stomach split. They removed her tongue and placed it inside a medication cup. They pushed drugs through her IV while she screamed. Once Kelsey reached seven and found herself strapped to Mason's bed. Five nurses surrounded her. One held a syringe. "What is that?"

               "Your medication."

               "What medication?"

               The nurse smiled. "All of it." Reset.

               At 7:14 that morning, Tasha found Kelsey dead on the floor of room 314. Her coat was on. Her employee badge was clutched in one hand. No obvious injuries. Mason remained restrained. Security footage confirmed he had never left his bed. The autopsy found five medications in Kelsey's bloodstream. None prescribed to her. Each at exactly five times the therapeutic concentration. Nobody could explain how they got there. Mason could. Three days later, a nurse brought his morning medication. She checked his wristband. Checked the order. Scanned the medication. Then checked everything again. Mason smiled. "Careful."

               "I am."

               "You know the five rights?"

               "Of course."

               Mason swallowed the pills. The nurse turned to leave. "Wait."

               She stopped. "What?"

               Mason looked at the clock. 7:00am.

               "She finally got one right."

               The nurse frowned. "One what?"

               Mason smiled. "Right time."