Watch Them Die

“Hannah? Are you still there?”

“Listen, Ben, why don’t you come by the store tomorrow? I want you to.”

“I’d like that,” he replied. “In the meantime, take care, okay?”

“Good night.” She switched off the intercom. After a moment, she unlocked the door, opened it, and stepped out on the balcony. She folded her arms against the chill. The wind whipped through her hair. She gazed down at the lone figure heading down the street, away from her building.

Ben didn’t look back over his shoulder.

Hannah wondered if she’d done the right thing, sending him away. The lives of everyone around her suddenly seemed so tentative. She watched him walking in the distance, and she couldn’t help thinking he might be dead by tomorrow.

“I hate to bug you on your day off, Tish,” Hannah said into the phone. “But I’m here alone.” She stood behind the counter at Emerald City Video. It was almost one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Where’s Scott?” the store manager asked on the other end of the line. “Wasn’t he supposed to start at eleven today?”

“Yeah. I’ve tried calling his place. I can’t even leave a message. I keep getting this stupid recording on his answering machine that says ‘Memory is full.’” Hannah tried to control the little tremor creeping into her voice—without much success. “Anyway, Tish, I think something’s happened. I’m really worried. Do you have another number we can call for him?”

“No. We better get someone else to fill in.”

“I tried Britt, but she’s spending most of this weekend with Webb. So I’m not surprised she isn’t answering. Cheryl and Victor are both due in at two.” Hannah sighed. “I’m okay here by myself for now, but I’m really worried about Scott.”

She kept thinking about what he’d said the day before: I’m toast. I’m a fucking dead man…He’ll go after me next, I know it.

“Well, we can’t be short a person today,” Tish said. “Not on a Friday. It’ll be N-U-T-Z, nuts. I’ll drag my ass over there. In the meantime, don’t worry about our Scott. He’s a big boy. Bet you a latte you’ll hear from him or he’ll show up before I make it to the store.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Hannah replied. “And hope I lose.”

Two hours later, they got the word from a friend of Scott’s that he was in the hospital.

Tish gave Hannah the rest of the afternoon off so she could visit him at Group Health Hospital. The doctors estimated that Scott would be in isolation there for ten days.

In the hospital gift shop, Hannah bought him some flowers and magazines. Before entering the corridor to Scott’s private room, she had to check in with a nurse stationed at the desk. The woman made her sign a form, then gave her a disposable smock and surgical mask to wear.

When Hannah stepped into the small, dimly lit, beige room, Scott was curled up on top of the unmade bed. He wore one of those hospital gowns, the kind that make even the healthiest person appear sickly.

Hannah cleared her throat. “Scott?”

He lifted his head up, then squinted at her. His handsome face was flushed and covered with tiny red welts.

“Oh, Jesus,” Hannah whispered. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault you’re in here. I should have been more careful washing up after being with Guy—”

“Oh, relax,” he groaned. “Neither you nor Guy gave me the damn chicken pox. The doctor told me chicken pox has like a twenty-day incubation period. I was exposed a while back.” He sat up. “Speaking of exposed, can you see up my gown?”

“My eyes are avoiding that area,” Hannah admitted. She set the magazines and flowers on a side table. Her mask seemed to be slipping, and she adjusted it. “I got you Vanity Fair, GQ, and People.”

“Thanks,” he grunted, with a tired smile. “You’re sweet. I’m going out of my mind here. I can’t believe I have to stay in this place for another ten days. I guess it’s serious stuff when an adult gets the chicken pox.”

Hannah glanced down at her hospital smock and pointed to her mask. “Tell me about it. Do you know how you might have been exposed?”

As Scott moved over to the window, Hannah noticed the small abrasions on his arms and legs. The blinds were drawn, and he fiddled with the cord. “I think Guy and I caught them at the same time,” he said. “Remember about three weeks ago, that Saturday afternoon you brought him to the store? That lady with the Eeyore voice had her brat with her, and he was wearing pajamas. She said he was sick, and she wanted to get him some videos….”

Hannah nodded. She recalled the little boy throwing several videos on the floor. Scott was picking up after him, and Guy tried to help. At the time, Hannah hadn’t been too alarmed about Guy being exposed to anything serious. People were always coming into the store to rent videos when they were sick. She didn’t think a mother would be stupid enough to bring in a kid with chicken pox. Of course, she was one to criticize. She’d been ready to take Guy on board a bus until her doctor put the kibosh on it.

“Anyway, I think Guy and I got chicken pox from that little creep,” Scott went on. “So if you see that lady and her kid again, give them both a swift kick in the ass for me. The only good thing about all this is there’s a real cute intern here, and I think he plays on my team. Soon as this rash clears up, I’ll see if I can get him to give me a sponge bath.”

“Too much information,” Hannah said. “Besides, that’s something a nurse or an orderly would do, not an intern. I know—from a couple of lengthy hospital stays.”

“Did it freak you out when I didn’t show up at work today?” he asked.

She nodded soberly. “A little.”

“You thought I’d pulled a Sharon Stone in Casino, didn’t you? So what’s the plan? Are you going to the police?”

Hannah shrugged and adjusted her mask again. “I can’t. I checked last night. It’s official. I’m wanted ‘for questioning’ in connection with kidnapping and larceny charges. They’re ready to throw the book at me. Anyway, no police. I’m on my own in this—especially now that you’ve been sidelined.”

“Yeah, guess I’m not much use to you in here. Sorry to let you down.”

“Oh, skip it. Just get well, sweetie.”

“Would you do me a favor, Han?” Scott asked. “Could you check on Britt for me? My buddy has left her a bunch of messages since early this morning, and he hasn’t heard back from her.”

“Well, I talked with her around nine o’clock last night, and she was all right. She’s supposed to be with Webb, the Wonder Creep. I might have his number. I’ll check, and keep you posted. I’m pretty concerned about her myself.”

“Thanks, Hannah.” He scratched his arm and frowned. “Listen. There’s something you should know. After you left last night, a woman came into the store, wanting to rent Psycho. When I went to get it for her, the case was there, but the tape was missing. Someone ripped it off, just like Casino.”

Gazing at him, Hannah slowly shook her head.

“It could be nothing,” Scott said. “But I figured you’d want to know. Be on your guard, okay? Your—um, secret admirer might soon be sending you another video valentine.”

Outside Scott’s room, Hannah shed the smock and the surgical mask, then dumped them in a waste bin labeled “Biohazard.” Starting down the hall, she saw someone by the nurse’s desk, and she stopped dead.

Ben put up his hand in a sort of half wave.

Hannah took a deep breath and walked up to him.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding glumly. “I followed you here from the store.”

“Do you have any idea how creepy that is?” Hannah asked pointedly.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. Can we please talk?” He pulled out a folder he had tucked under his arm. “I