Chapter 183: Chapter 183 - Lance Briggs
"It has been less than a month since his last chemotherapy session. We have not received new supplies yet. But he is holding on because he knows you are coming." Susan said as they walked in deeper.
Iyisha felt her chest tighten.
Lance is sick.
He’s a patient and he’s in this hospital.
Which means...
She looked over at Malcolm. He kept his eyes on the floor as they walked beside Susan down the hallway.
She might find the reason why he went missing in action.
Susan stopped outside a room near the end of the corridor. The door looked plain and closed yet her heart pounded.
"Are you ready?" Susan asked looking at Malcolm.
Malcolm took a slow breath. "Yes."
Susan opened the door and stepped aside.
Malcolm went in first.
Iyisha followed behind him.
The room was quiet except for the steady hiss of an oxygen machine beside the bed.
The man lying there looked much thinner than the person in the photograph Iyisha had seen earlier. His brown hair had grown longer and fell loosely across his forehead.
He looked nothing like Malcolm.
Malcolm’s blond hair and blue eyes made them look different.
Even so, the shape of Lance’s face, his eyes and his nose made it clear they were brothers.
An oxygen tube rested beneath his nose. Clear tubing ran to the machine beside the bed. An IV line was taped into his arm while a dextrose bag hung above him and dripped slowly.
Malcolm stopped a few steps inside the room. His body went still as he looked at the bed.
Lance turned his head slowly toward the door.
His eyes focused.
For a moment he only stared.
Then recognition appeared.
"Malcolm?"
His voice sounded rough but steady.
Malcolm walked to the side of the bed.
Lance smiled faintly.
"Well," Lance said slowly. "Look who finally decided to show up."
Malcolm studied him for a moment.
"You look terrible. Did the apocalypse not treat you well?" Lance asked.
Malcolm let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
"You look worse."
"That is rude," Lance said, though the corner of his mouth lifted. "I am on my deathbed. You are supposed to lie to me."
Lance’s gaze shifted past Malcolm.
He noticed Iyisha standing near the doorway.
"Well this is new," he said. "You brought a woman."
Malcolm glanced back at her.
Lance looked between them and his smile grew.
"Wow," he said. "You disappear for years and come back with a girlfriend."
He looked impressed.
"I knew you were out there doing something productive."
Malcolm rubbed a hand over his face.
"Lance."
"What?" Lance said. "I’m sick. I’m allowed to say things."
His eyes returned to Iyisha.
"You must be special," he said. "You’re the first person he brought here. My name’s Lance. Malcolm’s younger problem."
"I’m Iyisha," she said with a small smile reaching in for a handshake but he lifted it to his lips.
She froze but she smiled sweetly at him.
Personality wise he was nothing like Malcolm.
Definitely far from Malcolm.
"Pleasure to meet you."
She took a step back.
Lance smiled before looking back at Malcolm. He lifted his hand expectantly.
Malcolm reached into his bag and handed him a small plastic bag.
Lance opened it immediately.
"Fuck yes," he muttered.
Chocolate bars spilled onto the bed.
"Easy, Lance," Susan said.
"I’m dying. No one gets to tell me what not to eat," Lance said with a grin.
He looked between Malcolm and Iyisha again.
"My brother shows up with a girl. This calls for a party."
He turned toward Susan.
"Tell them we’re celebrating."
Susan shook her head but she was smiling.
"I’ll talk to Mark," she said softly.
Malcolm and Lance continued talking inside the room.
Iyisha stepped closer to Susan and lowered her voice.
"How is he doing?"
Susan looked at her for a moment, then nodded toward the hallway.
They stepped outside and Susan gently pulled the door closed behind them.
The corridor felt quieter now.
"He’s getting worse," Susan said.
Her voice was softer than before.
"The government hasn’t been sending the medicine we need lately."
She sighed and sat down on the bench along the wall.
Iyisha sat beside her when Susan patted the empty space.
"We’ve been trying," Susan said.
For the first time Iyisha noticed how tired she looked. Not just tired from work, but the kind that comes from watching someone slowly slip away.
"The medicine is never enough," Susan continued quietly. "And with Lance we are just waiting for when it happens."
Her eyes drifted toward the closed door.
Iyisha felt something tighten in her chest.
The young man inside the room had been joking only moments ago. Bright. Easy. Laughing like nothing was wrong.
It had not felt like a deathbed.
"What cancer does he have?" Iyisha asked.
"Lung cancer," Susan said.
"He’s been in and out of hospitals since he was a kid."
She let out a small breath and rubbed her hands together slowly.
"I watched those boys grow up in hospital rooms," she said quietly.
Her eyes stayed on the door.
"Malcolm used to sit beside Lance’s bed and pretend everything was fine."
She swallowed.
"He was just a kid himself."
Her voice softened.
"So when Lance was transferred here after everything collapsed, I promised Malcolm I would take care of him."
She shook her head faintly.
"I’ve kept him alive this long."
Her voice cracked slightly.
"But I don’t know how much longer I can."
Iyisha sat quietly beside her.
Susan pressed her fingers together and stared at the floor for a moment before speaking again.
"He was so small when I first met him," she said. "Always coughing. Always back in the hospital."
A tired smile touched her lips.
"And Malcolm would sit there beside the bed like a guard dog."
Iyisha listened.
"He never left," Susan continued. "Even when he should have gone home. Even when visiting hours were over."
She let out a slow breath.
"He used to bring Lance stupid things to make him laugh. Candy bars. Comic books. One time he snuck in a whole bag of chips and got into trouble with the nurses."
Susan shook her head faintly.
"They were just boys."
Her eyes moved toward the closed door again.
"We met them in Connecticut," she added quietly. "Their grandmother brought Lance to the hospital there when he first got sick. When we had the chance to move here and maintain the hospital, we brought Lance with us."
She paused.
For a moment she said nothing.
"We’ve kept Lance stable as long as we could," she continued quietly. "Oxygen. Antibiotics when infections start. Pain management."
She swallowed.
"But the cancer keeps spreading."
Iyisha felt her chest tighten.
Susan rubbed her hands together slowly.
"When the supplies stopped coming, we had to make choices," she said.
Her voice lowered.
"There are patients here who still have a chance to recover."
She paused.
"Lance knew."
Iyisha turned toward her.
"He told me not to waste the medicine on him," Susan said softly.
A small sad smile appeared.
"He said Malcolm would yell at me if I did."
She looked back at the door again.
"But I still gave him the last chemotherapy dose we had."
Her voice lowered further.
"I wanted to give him a little more time."
Iyisha looked down at her hands.
Inside the room Lance’s laughter suddenly carried through the door.
Light. Easy.
Susan closed her eyes briefly when she heard it.
"That boy," she whispered.
Then she looked at Iyisha again.
"He’s been waiting for Malcolm."
Her voice softened.
"Every day."
