Though Nurse Kaylin’s first name was Jessica, nearly everyone called her “Jess”. The only people who didn’t were her parents—who could get away with it—and new employees—who had yet to learn why they couldn’t. As Ani had told me, it had something to do with maintaining decorum. Ani had also told me that no one dared to make a joke about Nurse Kaylin’s height. According to hospital folklore, the feisty, short-haired, middle-aged woman was no more than five foot three, though only Nurse Kaylin’s personal physician knew the actual numbers, and, whomever that physician was, word of mouth suggested they’d taken a vow of silence on the subject. But Jess had a strongly bulldog-shaped personality, so that wasn’t the least bit surprising.

When the Prelatory fell, its modesty codes for women’s dress had fallen with it. Nevertheless, old habits died hard, and you still saw a fair share of woman in the hospital’s employ who wore dresses even though it wasn’t strictly necessary. Ani was one of them, though you’d only notice the hem of her skirt sticking out from beneath her unisex physician’s coat if you bothered to look down at her feet. Yuth Costran wore the old-fashioned nurse’s get up, headpiece and all. Jess Kaylin, on the other hand, wore scrubs, just like Dr. Marteneiss—pale blue and smooth to the touch. But that wasn’t what was most remarkable about Nurse Kaylin’s dress.

No, that would be the black belt she wore around her waist. This was a literal “black belt”, gifted to her by her karate sensei in recognition of her many years of diligent study of that martial art. “Whoop-ass” was something of a theme of hers. Jess had the words emblazoned on the side of her coffee mug she kept in her favorite staff lounge. She was also the only person in Ward E who could best Cassius Arbond in the colorful vocabulary department. At a certain point, once you knew enough about Nurse Kaylin, details like these lost their powers to surprise. In hindsight, however, they made me all the more regretful that I hadn’t been there to see what had happened.

Nurse Kaylin had a lot of problems on her plate. Given her position as Ward E’s Chief Nurse, this was hardly unusual for her. Her current problem, however, was something new, and it went by the name of Joe-Bob O’Houlighan.

There were many reasons a person might choose to become a nurse. Jess Kaylin’s reason was starkly simple. In her words, it was the most satisfying way to, quote, “Beat the living shit out of problems without having to shoot ‘em.”

Nurse Kaylin stepped into Mr. O’Houlighan’s room. Her eyes sized up the situation in front of her, analyzing it with an almost mechanical efficiency. And there was a lot to size up. The biggest eyesore was Mr. O’Houlighan himself. The portly, corn-fed neckbeard sat up in bed, glaring at Jess with suspicion. As was often the case, the story here came in three parts—and boy, was there a story here.

The first part was a tale of abuse. Hachiko was one of the most promising new hires Nurse Kaylin had seen in years, and, whatever Joe-Bob had said, it was enough to reduce the young woman to tears. The second part of the story was the cannula jammed up Joe-Bob’s nose—a cannula being a thin tube inserted into a vein or body cavity to drain fluid or administer medications. A plastic cable trailed from the cannula, looping over Joe-Bob’s bed to the wall fixture to which it was attached. Joe-Bob’s lungs were ruined, and the oxygen flowing into the cannula compensated for what his lungs weren’t doing for him. The third and final piece of the story was the rerun of John Henrichy Tonight play out on the Joe-Bob’s bedside console.

Dark filaments had begun to rifle their way beneath Mr. O’Houlighan’s skin, though the messy stubble on his neck and cheeks partially obscured it.

“Who’re you?” he said, speaking in between labored breaths.

Normally, Jess would have made a concerted effort to cool her tongue while in the presence of her patients. Good nurses showed respect toward their patients and concern for their well-being, but that rule ran both ways. And Joe-Bob wasn’t holding up his end of the nosocomial covenant.

“You Joe-Bob O’Houlighan?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

The man nodded. “I reckon I am,” he said, after a cough.

Taking a very deep breath, Nurse Kaylin crossed her arms and tilted her head in judgment. “What the fuck did you say to Hachiko?” She spoke slowly, clearly enunciating her words.

Hachiko Nagoya was the nurse tasked with Joe-Bob’s care. She was one of Jess’ favorite new recruits: soft-spoken, sweet like molasses, but with an incisive mind and with an extensive knowledge of different sauces and the culinary situations in which to deploy them.

Joe-Bob blinked. He hadn’t expected the short lady to be so spicy. Groaning, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat upright, his thighs automatically man-spreading. His legs had too much marbled meat on his bones to rest comfortably in close quarters.

He wheezed. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Jess nodded. “You heard what you heard. Now hear some more. There’s a special place in hell for bastards who make nurses cry.” Leaning forward, she glowered. “You’ll spend eternity running over this ice with the Hallowed Beast at your back, chasin’ you across the Night.” She scowled. “And with bulk like yours, you’d sink like a goddamn anvil.”

Mr. O’Houlighan’s face turned the color of a bleeding tomato.

“It ain’t my problem the bitch didn’t know how to listen,” he growled. The east-coast drawl was strong with him. “I told that girl the truth!” Joe-Bob clenched his jaw so tightly, it trembled.

“Oh?” Jess raised an eyebrow. “And what ‘truth’ is that?”

“You’re killin’ us, one way or the other.”

“Now this, I gotta hear. Lay it on me, Joe-Bob.”

“Haven’t you heard the Chief Minister? It’s all on John Henrichy Tonight.” He turned the mounted console to face Jess.

Jess turned it off with a tap of her finger on the screen and a scowl on her face.

Joe-Bob scoffed. “Fine, keep lying to yourself,” he said.

“About what?”

“The pandemic!” Joe-Bob spat, and only a quick reaction from Jess kept her out of its path. “The pandemic’s a load of bullshit,” Joe-Bob explained. “It’s all overblown. It’s the Big Reset, just another ploy by people like that weepy chi-chi nurse. You’re tryin’ to get the gub’ment to steal our every goddamn dime in medical bills, forcin’ us to pay for everythin’ but the treatments we actually need. NFP is a scam. Heelibectin and colloidal iron pills clear it up in no time, don’tcha know?” Joe-Bob scoffed. “And you,” his derision cracked into a coughing fit, “y’all have ‘em in spades, you just won’t give ‘em to us. Y’all want to bleed hard-workin’ folks like me dry, all ‘cause selfish pansy-asses like yourself wanna stick their fingers up in other people’s business where they don’t belong.” He coughed again, spurting black and green sputum on his gown. “Well…” he cleared his throat, wincing from the pain. “I’ve. Had. Enough.” Energy spent, Joe-Bob leaned back onto his bed. “And that’s the truth. I told your girl that, and now I’m tellin’ it to you. So you better damn gimme that Heelibectin and those iron pills, or, I swear, I’ll sic the cops on y’all and they’ll be here faster than you can say fricassee.” He cleared his throat, struggling to clean his airways. “And get me some water while you’re at it!”

“Well, first of all,” Jess said, pyramiding her fingers, “fuck you, and fuck your mom and dad too for not exchanging a self-righteous sad sack of shit like you for a better kid. We work ourselves to the bone. You wanna complain about the service? Try going to nursing school first. For realism, I recommend you also give yourself arthritis from bending over backward day in and day out dealing with the petty needs of thankless marmots like yourself who expect the world to be their fuck-box.”

Amazingly, Joe-Bob slid onto his feet. He stood up tall, towering over Nurse Kaylin. Anger boiled in his eyeballs, even as the cannula continued to pump air into his lungs.

“You’re gonna gimme that medicine, you bitch!”

“Heelibectin’s a steroidal immunosuppressant, gum for brains!” Jess yelled, gesturing angrily. “It’s so strong, you need a goddamn organ transplant to get within five fuckin’ feet of the stuff. And do you know what happens when you shove a military-grade immunosuppressant in your veins while you’ve got a virulent infection chowin’ down on you? You fucking die!“

“I’m not gonna let you kill me,” Joe-Bob replied, legs wobbling beneath him. “You’ll put me on a ventilator and I’ll die like all the rest. I’m not gonna be your next victim.” He bellowed. “I’m a man. I’m a real man! Blood, bone and grit!”

Swinging his beef-flab arm, Joe-Bob lunged at Nurse Kaylin, clawing at the air.

“Gimme the meds!”

Jess gritted her teeth. Taking the wind out of big, pompous bastards like this was what she’d been born to do. It was the Angel’s will.

Dipping down, Nurse Kaylin slid one foot forward along onto the slippery vinyl floor, crossing the leg against Joe-Bob’s shins, while anchoring herself with her other foot and the airy shoe insert beneath it.

It took only the slightest push.

Joe-Bob gyrated his arms, teetering forward and back like the world’s stupidest gymnast.

With a smirk, Jess jabbed her elbow into Mr. O’Houlighan’s paunch. “Timmmmber!”

The patient toppled back onto his bed.

Not wasting any time, Nurse Kaylin hog-tied Joe-Bob’s arm and leg to the bed using the burly restraints dangling from its side. Mr. O’Houlighan flailed in surprise and sputtered in indignation, but before he could react, Jess had pushed off the foot of the bed and swung around to the other side. Doing a double take, Joe-Bob rolled toward her, only for the whole bed to bounce—wheels rattling—as the restraints held him back and made him clonk his head on one of the beside monitors. By the time he’d finished rubbing the sore spot on his male-pattern-balding skull, Jess had already secured his other arm. Joe-Bob managed to get one hit in, kicking his yellowed, calloused toes at Jess’ breasts. But instead of staggering back, Nurse Kaylin threw herself onto Mr. O’Houlighan, immobilizing him long enough for her to secure his leg beneath the final restraint.

Jess hopped off him. Her heart raced in her chest, beneath the soreness of his blow.

Now that’s how you rodeo!

Nurse exhaled deeply, savoring the sweet taste of victory. Joe-Bob O’Houlighan writhed beneath the restraints, rollicking ineffectually from side to side. Sweat sparkled beneath the lights as his face flushed beet red, like a stuffed pig under an oven’s bright light. The bed stopped jostling once Nurse Kaylin bent down and flipped the latches on its legs to lock the wheels in place.

“You wait, you just wait!” Joe-Bob roared, coughing and gasping. “My brother-in-law’s a big-shot lawyer downtown. I’m gonna tell Betty-Lynn about this, and you’ll be sorry! Y’all be sorry!”

Fuck off, sonny boy.

With a snort, Nurse Kaylin inputted a patient status update into the wall-mounted console beside the door.

Due to violent, bigoted, dipshit behavior, Mr. O’Houlighan is to be kept restrained until he learns to be respectful to the people who are trying to save his fucking life.

The software on the console would auto-censor the message, but Jess didn’t care in the slightest.

It was just another day on the job