Stardust

A novel by Aaron Craiger

First Draft

Chapter 3

"I'm dead," I said, blinking. "How can this be possible?" We were back in Steve's office.

"I don't know, man," he said. "This is physically impossible…well, unless you have a Ventricular Assist Device, or you're on bypass, which you're obviously not." Sighing, he shook his head. "I really should write a paper on this," he mused.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked."

"Well, I guess we could try to restart your heart, if you want."

"Sounds like a good idea. We have no idea how long this odd phenomenon will last," I agreed.

"You want to try drugs, CPR or defibrillation?" Steve asked me.

"Oh, great – break my ribs, shock the crap out of me, or stab a needle into my heart. Hmm," I said. Steve shrugged at me. "I guess I'll start with the drugs, then." Steve pulled a syringe of Epinepherine – synthetic Adrenaline – out of the cart and handed it to me. I pulled my shirt off again (sure am spending a lot of time shirtless today), laid down on the exam table, and prepared to stab the needle into my chest. I felt a little reluctant, but hell, I was about to stab a needle into my chest. Wouldn't you? As I raised my arm to thrust the needle through my sternum, terror flashed through me, and my left side suddenly went ice cold. With a yell, I flew off the table, dropped the syringe, and squared off, glancing fitfully around the room.

"What the…Dean, are you OK?" Steve asked, standing up, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know, Steve," I said. "I was about to inject myself but…" I shook my head to clear it. Steve picked up the syringe and tossed it into a sharps container.

"Ok, then. You want to try external pacing?" Steve was referring to a technique where external shocks were used to regulate the heart's speed.

"Ha," I said, putting on my shirt. "Not so much, no. I can't explain why, but for some reason, it seems that it would be a very bad idea to restart it."

"Why?" Steve asked, sitting back down. I remained standing, still feeling fidgety.

"Call it Medic's intuition, I guess," I said. Steve nodded in sympathy.

"Alright, I'll accept that. You have a lot of experience in this kind of stuff," Steve said.

"So do you!" I said, laughing. "You're the Cardiologist here."

"True," Steve replied, "But you have a lot of acute experience. Mine is mostly chronic."

"Yeah, I guess," I said, then glanced at the door. "Bro, I have to leave," I said. "I need to go back to the boardwalk, clear my head. Today's been quite a day."

"I understand," Steve replied. "Would you like me to walk you out?"

"Sure, if you want," I said. Steve stood, and we left his office, headed for the elevator. We rode it down to the ground floor, and headed for the parking lot. "Boy, I have a damn good excuse to skip out on work tomorrow." I mimed picking up a phone. "Hi, Captain, I can't come in today – I'm sick. Yeah, my heart isn't beating. No, I had some chicken soup, but it didn't help." Steve Chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah. Are you going to go in tomorrow?" He asked.

"I guess," I said. "Can't see why not. I could use the distraction."

"Make sure you call me if you have any problems," he said.

"I will," I said as we got to the front doors. "See you later, Steve," I said as I left.

"Bye, Dean," he said. I got in my car and drove off.

I spent the rest of the day wandering up and down the boardwalk, my mind reeling. I have no pulse. My heart is not beating. How the hell is Oxygen getting to my organs? How are the nutrients getting to my cells? Now I understand why the Adrenaline wasn't affecting me earlier, and why the Stardust was still affecting me. The blood in my body couldn't get to my liver, so the impurities couldn't be filtered out. My kidneys seemed to be working fine, though. That's another thing. My blood isn't flowing, so how is that working? Come to think of it, how exactly am I still alive? Magic? Some sort of miracle? My brain felt like it was going to explode. Finally, exhausted, I went home, undressed, and collapsed into bed, Blizzard curled up next to me.