The City Of Death

Chapter One- Macy

I wash the blood off my hands as quickly as I can. I'm practically nodding off at the sink while I scrub out, and once the blood is off my hands, I hold my head in them, not really caring that they're wet. Maybe the water will help wake me up. And if that doesn't work, I can always take five minutes to go to the breakroom. There's always a few boxes of theobromine capsules lying around in there. It's just a matter of figuring out where the other Doctors stashed them after use.

It had been a long twelve hours from the time I scrubbed in, and I'm absolutely ready to complete my nightly rounds so I can go home and maybe get some sleep. I was woken up at about three in the morning by the phone ringing- two hours earlier than I normally wake up. That's one of the perks- or downsides, depending on who you ask- of being a Doctor. I get a phone in my apartment, something that is only allowed to us and the hospital. Everyone else has to use Messengers.

But I suppose that in emergencies, Messengers might just not be quick enough. And once I heard the word "emergency", my adrenaline kicked in. But now that the surgery is done and the emergency has passed, I'm starting to crash from the rush. Tonight is going to be an early one for me. But at least when I go to bed tonight, I'll sleep easy knowing that I saved someone's life. They won't have the same life that they did before, but at least they'll be alive.

As soon as my hands are dried and my plastic cap, mask, and gown are all removed by a Medical Assistant and thrown away, I put my grey coat back on and leave the operating room. One of the MAs will take the patient to their recovery room. For now, I have rounds to do and the patient's friend to go talk to. From what the MA that helped me scrub in told me, he was a bit of a mess when he arrived. He probably still is a mess.

As I walk the halls to the waiting room, I think about the past twelve hours, and as I do, I start to regain some of my energy. The patient- or Nameless, as we call patients we can't identify- wasn't supposed to live. When he'd been found lying on the concrete, bloody and gasping, no one knew how long he'd been there. The only guess as to what had even happened was that he had been found lying under a balcony. Nameless must have jumped, but from which floor, that was the question.

The MAs managed to keep him alive until I got there. And after twelve long hours of slicing, dicing, and repairing the damage I'd found, it looks like he's going to live. The thought brings a new pep in my step. This is why I became a Doctor. To save people's lives and to heal their illnesses and injuries. To bring new life into the City. And so far, it seems I'm doing a good job of it. If only Skye could see me.

When I enter the waiting room, it's not hard to see who I'm looking for. A man is sitting in the corner with his head in his bloody hands. He should wash those when he gets a second. I'm guessing the blood is his friend's, and who knows what could be in it. I don't think Nameless would want his savior to become sick because he had dirty blood near his face. As I step closer, the man looks up at me and is instantly on his feet, running over to me.

"Dr. Macy, are you the one that operated on Zeke?" the man asks, and I nod. Even four years after becoming a Doctor, I'm still sometimes surprised when Citizens I've never met know my name. But I've been told the whole City talks about me. How I'm the youngest Doctor the City has ever seen. How good I am at my job. And, in the case of some older Citizens, how much I look like Skye.

"Yes. Are you the one who found him?" I ask, and it's his turn to nod.

"Yeah, I'm Connor. Zeke is my best friend. I'd just finished a session at the studio when I found him. He was just lying there, looking up at the sky, gasping and covered in blood. I tried to ask him what had happened, but he could barely speak. I didn't want to move him, but I knew that if I waited for someone else, he wouldn't make it," Connor rambled, and I listened intently, trying to get the full picture of what had happened.