Jenica Jencks arrived back at the nurses station about 10 minutes later. She had taken a shortcut which ran past a vending machine. She took this time to grab a soda, using her Hospital swipe card, then she continued to the main station, located near the front of the building on the same floor that Anthony was staying.
“JJ. You have Perdita’s chart?” called a burly voice from the main desk. That was Head Nurse Manuela Garcia, a slightly heavy-set woman of very distant Hispanic heritage. The only features about her that her long dead relatives might recognize included her slightly darker complexion and her tendency to speak faster than could be understood. Her hair was blond, her eyes were blue, and she didn’t know a word of spanish.
Jenica set the clipboard upon the desk and stared into Manuela’s eyes. Her sky blue eyes could not hide what Jenica saw there. Jenica walked around the front of the desk, the area where patients and family members were required to stand, and stood by Manuela’s side. Then, lightening quick, she plunged her right hand in between Manuela’s ample bosom. Her fingers spun, rotating with lightning speed, tearing Manuela’s clothing and quickly chiseling into the bone. Flecks of flesh and white bone fragments spattered Jenica’s face. Finally the sawing stopped. Manuela’s face was lit with terror. She was gasping with the loss of blood and shock, unable to move to protect herself or attack in her defense. Jenica walked to a drawer in the desk, removed an object, and returned to her artform. Then, with a permanent marker, she drew an “x” over Manuela’s heart.
Jenica considered the wound for a bit, then with a wry smile commented, “I thought it’d be smaller than that.” She recapped the pen and left the hospital.