Free Alarums by Richard Laymon

and complete recoveries. I've seen others who weren't so fortunate. But your father is in excellent physical shape for a man his age, so we can be somewhat optimistic about the outcome. At present, however, he's comatose.'
        'He's in a coma? Bodie asked.
        'He hasn't regained consciousness since the time of the accident. He is no immediate danger, however. We have him on life support systems, and his condition is being constantly monitored. His vital signs are good.'
        'You think he'll come out of it, though?' Bodie asked. 'There's just no way of knowing. He might pull out of it today or next week…'
        'Or never,' Melanie said.
        'That's also a possibility. But we're doing everything we can for him.'
        

CHAPTER EIGHT
        
        Bodie stood at the foot of the bed. Melanie, beside him, stared at her father while Pen went to the man's side and took hold of his hand.
        A sheet covered him to the chest. Tubes ran into his nostrils and arms. The top of his head was wrapped in bandages.
        The cardiac monitor had a jagged green line and beeped regularly just as such machines did on television - which was the extent of Bodie's exposure to such things until now. The respirator made a chirping sound as it pumped air into the man's lungs. Somewhere, Bodie had heard the term 'bird respirator'. He supposed they were called that because of the noise.
        All very interesting.
        He wanted the hell out of there.
        The doctor had made it sound pretty good, almost as if the coma was just a minor setback. But the old guy, bandaged and hooked up from every direction, looked like a Victor Frankenstein experiment on a bad day.
        'Dad, it's Penny. The doctor says you're going to be fine. Melanie's here, too.'
        'Hi, Dad,' Melanie said.
        'You're going to be fine,' Pen repeated.
        His chest rose and fell, but he didn't twitch an eyelid. The cardiac monitor beeped at the same rate as before.
         Good thing this isn't a television show, Bodie thought, or the line on the screen of the heart machine would go flat about now and you'd get that long whining noise.
         So far, so good.
        He didn't want to be around, though, when it happened.
        A long time seemed to pass before Dr Gray suggested they leave. 'You could come back this evening at eight and see him for a few minutes. Maybe his condition will have improved by then.'
        Pen squeezed her father's hand. 'We'll see you tonight, Dad.' She let go and backed away.
        Melanie said nothing - as if she knew there wasn't any point.
        They left the room. Dr Gray led them to the elevator and tried once again to reassure them before he departed.
        As the elevator doors began to close, a voice called, 'Could you hold that?' Bodie pushed the 'Doors Open' button. An orderly swung a gumey around and rolled it inside. On the gumey was a wasted, sallow-faced old woman with greasy hair. Bodie, wishing he could go back in time and let the doors shut her out, tried to hold his breath as the elevator descended.
        Hospitals. Charming places.
        The old crone had a bad case of impending demise, and he hoped it wasn't catching.
        Finally, the doors glided open and he hurried out. The orderly and his ghastly patient stayed. They were going down. What was down in the basement? Isn't that where hospitals took their dead? She wasn't quite ready for that yet.
        Dropping back, Bodie walked alongside Melanie to the lobby doors. And then he was in the sunlight, in the fresh untainted air. Well, there was a slight odor of exhaust fumes from the cars rushing by on Pico, but that was far better than the hospital air with its smells of floor wax and disinfectant and, far worse, its secret under-smell of decay and death.
        'It's nice to be out of there,' Pen said.
        They waited at the corner. The WALK sign came on. An RTD bus went