Somewhere, Out There



Scene Title Somewhere, Out There.
Synopsis Somewhere in New York are three people that Joanna needs to know about. If they're alive, or what they did to her.
Date November 14, 2010

Hospital, Reclamation Zone, Staten Island

Joanna sat on the edge of the hospital bed, feet planting on the ground and working her way from sitting up to standing up. A week since being operated on in some hack and slash manner more better adopted for some military field hospital. Sasha's ability ensured that she lived long enough to be carted off to the hospital that was in the reclemation zone.

By that time, she'd been unconscious, sent off to lala land where her daughter wasn't missing, ex-husband wasn't a fugitive and she knew whether either was still alive. More surgery for the woman, look for any leaks, stitched her back up, flood her system with antibiotics and hope that she really did make it.

Two days later, an infection she'd gained was being beaten back and Joanna had woken. All inquiries to the whereabouts of her daughter had been answered with a shrug of their shoulders and firm instructions to remain laying down. They'd inquire for her. She'd been able to watch the news, see the devastation that had reached into the city like a giant hand and just squeezed parts of it.

But no word on Tasha. She could dial numbers from her hospital bed, hands shaky from exertion, call other hospitals, inquire, leave multiple messages on Tasha's cellphone, Leave messages on the house voicemail in case she might access it. But still nothing. No other hospitals had a Tasha Oliver, Tasha Renard or Tasha Lazzaro found.

The fear that her daughter might be some nameless body out in the streets, or in a morgue somewhere having been transferred from wherever they had sent her to triage and had died had sent her into a panic and eventually a need to be sedated.

She'd slept for another few days, IV's sending drugs through her system to dull the pain, Doctor had come by to update her on her condition and a date for release.

It was now Sunday afternoon, and her sister Diane had flown in from the midwest. She was going home to Solstice Condominiums where she would feel more comfortable. She'd hired a nurse to come in, help change her bandages and whatever else she needed and Diane would help with everything else. A co-worker was dispersing her cases among others at the office since she wouldn't be back for a few weeks, apologies to all the judges.

But right now, she waited, Jacket draped across the end of the bed, Diane rattling off about making more calls and seeing what she could find out while Joanne stared out the window that showed the expanse of Staten Island and other buildings. Somewhere out there, hopefully, her daughter was alive. Maybe Vincent was with her, maybe he'd found her. Somewhere out there was a Russian. A Russian that she needed to know what he'd done to her that had the Doctors all frowning and shaking their head muttering about scar tissue.

The rattle of conversation from her sister stop, replaced by an orderly and a wheelchair. Time to go home, time to rest, get better. wait.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License