Chapter 2 - St. John's Nightmare

On May 5th 23 years ago, St. John Jackson wailed in his sleep at a time when the only other sound around his four bedroom house was crooked tree limbs brushing against brick. The scream triggered a device he designed to send warm waves to his cinnamon skin and sooth his ears with soft white noise.

St. John (pronounced sin jin) squirmed under his silky goose down comforter and rolled until his buttery pillow caressed his right cheek. As his blood cooled from boiling to simmering, visions of aberrant beasts tearing his flesh faded. He dozed with his shoulders clinched.

Seventeen minutes later, a buzzsaw ripped through his sleep. "Aggf," he said. His athletic arm jerked to swat his phone off of the nightstand and snapped back to pound the pillow next to his head.

An app triggered a pinpoint strobe light perched on his antique wood headboard. "A baby." St. John said. He pounded the pillow again and pushed to a seated position as he swung his legs around.

The phone went silent leaving the bzzt, bzzt, of the tiny strobe and the scraping outside. St. John dropped to grab the phone as it came to life.

"Dr Jackson," he said. His knees pushed into the heirloom rug that dominated the room.

"We need you now."

St. John bristled at the voice of Eunice Givens, head nurse of the maternity ward night shift.

"All my patients have my direct number and I'm not on call."

"Not your patient. Dr Jawarski had an emergency. His partner is out of town, and he specifically asked for you to cover. You know who it is," Eunice said.

St. John sat back into his bed and switched off the strobe. "No." He hung up the phone.

The buzzsaw started before he could put it down.

"I'm not even next on the rotation. I'm not doing any special favors for Jerry tonight. Not her"

"I'm walking into her room," Eunice said.

St. John jerked his ear from the phone. Violent wretching. Shrieks followed each wretch, with scratchy gasping crammed in between. The background was hustle and chaos.

"Nurse," St John said. "Eunice."

"I'll be in the delivery room when you get here." She hung up.

"Save my baby."

St. John whirled his head around. He was alone.