Pitfall (22 page)

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Authors: Cameron Bane

BOOK: Pitfall
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Chapter Twenty-nine

L
ight. Sound. As if from a great depth my faculties were returning one by one, like a dimmer switch being turned brighter.

From somewhere I heard a beeping. A deep voice called my name from a long way off, growing louder. Was it Seth? Pain ground me down, and I was so cold. I struggled against the black depths, and to lift my heavy eyelids. No strength.

In my mind came a rush of flashes of so many battles. And of that last day in Iraq. A kaleidoscope of medic’s faces blurred together, people talking hurriedly, hovering over me—then or now? With everything in me I battled against the dense fog clouding my mind.

It began to lift a bit. GeneSys. And Sarah. Where was I? I managed to open my eyes, just a little at first, the light dazzling me. Gradually I started to focus better, but everything was still fuzzy. I looked around. A hospital? Sure smelled like a hospital.

I vaguely recalled the medevac slick landing, my being lifted aboard, and an oxygen mask being placed over my face. Somebody—Seth?—saying, “Hang in there, John. Don’t you die on me.” Vibration. The slick dusted off, its noise like a million spoons rattling inside a thousand metal drums.

And now I was here? But where was here?

Straining against sliding back down into darkness, I shook my head to resist. Instantly I regretted the motion. The walls and ceiling wavered and slid, and the room seemed to rock as waves of nausea rolled through me.

“Oh man …” Halting my movement I closed my eyes and waited out the heaves. Gradually my stomach settled down. That’s when I realized I wasn’t alone as someone approached the foot of the bed. I squinted into the light, and saw who it was. Terrific. Sheriff Hardesty.

“Welcome back.” He peered at me. “How do you feel?”

Like I’m half-dead
,
I almost answered. Instead I rasped, “I’ve been better.”

“No doubt.” His voice blasted through my head. “Do you feel up to making a statement?”

“What? Now?” I tried to swallow.

“Why not? It’s the best time. You’re more likely to tell me the truth.”

“Screw that.” A booming voice had broken in, clanging around in my brainpan and making my whole body tense. I turned my half-open eyes to see Seth Delacroix, angrily entering the room like a force of nature. A second later he was standing next to the sheriff.

“John will be glad to give you his statement when he’s up for it,” he said. “And not before. And what are you doing here, anyway? Unless I’m mistaken, Sheriff, the doc told you to wait. John’s supposed to sleep and get plenty of rest. And
quiet.”

“Fine,” Hardesty nodded. “I can wait.” That said, he turned on his heel, opened the swinging door, and exited.

Seth crossed the room in a few giant strides. Reaching me, he dropped the gruff edge and lowered his voice by half. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him out of your hair. How about some water?” Before I could reply he pressed the call button for the nurse.

Settling in for a wait, I swallowed. “How long?” I asked.

“Have you been here?” he finished, knowing what I was going for. “A little over a week.” He frowned. “Man, you look rough.”

I felt rough. With halting speech I said, “Over a week? Why didn’t somebody—?”

“Bring you around earlier? You were a hot mess. You needed to rest and stay quiet.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment. “What is all of this? I take it it’s not good.”

“Not hardly. You were in surgery a long time, then in intensive care. Now you’re just listed as serious, so they moved you down here.” He glared. “You got a death wish or something? Why’d you pull a stunt like that? You’re just too hardheaded to stay that sick.”

“It ain’t easy being me.”

About that time the nurse, an older woman, arrived in crisp hospital whites. Taking a look at me she turned and left, returning with a doctor. For the next few minutes he gave me a cursory exam, asking me questions to test my lucidity. I answered them as best as I could.

Seemingly satisfied, he checked my eyes. The tiny light hurt like a mother. I heard his vague words through the thick mass of pain in my head, telling me to lie still and go back to sleep as he injected something into my IV tube. Then they left.

My friend regarded me closely. “So how you doin’? Really?”

I tried to speak, but found I just couldn’t answer. Again I faded away.

*

When I awoke again, I had no sense of time. From the slant of light coming in the window I could see it was still daylight. Slowly turning my head I saw Seth slumped down in the visitor’s chair next to the bed, his head cradled in the palm of his hand. I couldn’t tell if he was actually asleep or just resting.

“Hey,” I rasped.

His eyes snapped open. Jumping to his feet, he hustled over. “You’re awake.”

“And he’s sharp, too. I could use a drink of water.”

“No can do, John. I found out, doctor’s orders. But how ‘bout some fresh, delicious ice chips? Mighty tasty.”

“Whatever …”

Grabbing the cup, he fed me a few from it. “Better?”

“Not much.” But what about the girl? Was she safe? “Tell me about Sarah.”

“Not much to tell. She’s all right. You’ll see her soon.”

Relief flooded me as I found myself steadily becoming more alert and aware of my surroundings. And what was this? In the corners of the room, filling them up, I spied several large bunches of flowers, topped by brightly colored Mylar balloons. Some kind of writing filled their sides, but I couldn’t make it out.

I motioned with my bandaged right hand. “What’s all that?”

“You mean the flowers and stuff? It’s been coming in for days.”

“What did you say? From who?”

“You won’t believe this.” Picking them up off the nightstand, his mitts held a double handful of envelopes. “Thank you cards. I opened them already, seeing’s how you can’t. One is from the kids on the football team; the whole bunch signed it.”

The kids had sent me a card. They didn’t have to do that.

“Another card is from the Cahills. Over the past few days the news broke about that GeneSys ring you broke up. And some of the cards are from the parents of the runaways you rescued. Looks like the country dodged a bullet, thanks to you.” Seth grinned. “Seems you’re a popular dude.”

I didn’t respond. The thick gauzy webs were parting more and more. Silently I pondered all that had transpired, the deaths I’d caused. Boneless I could have cared less about: a useless torturer of women, he’d dealt his own play. I was equally unconcerned about … what was that guard’s name? Albert Trask, now with only half a head. He should have believed me. No way was I going to let him kill Sarah.

Speaking of which, where was she? My mind swam and swirled. It was like trying to reach into a dark fissure and put together the jumbled pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that had no edges.

Closing my eyes, in sudden anguish I remembered another woman I’d failed. Shelly. Her face came to the forefront of my memory. And her little boy Ronnie. He was only four. They both were dead because of my carelessness.

The look of fear and desperation on her face would haunt me forever. I was furious for having failed her—all of them—and shuddered involuntarily from a weight that had nothing to do with my injuries. A strange but familiar lethargy crept through me, settling like a shroud. I knew what this was; I’d felt it before. It was as if my soul had been freshly ripped away.

Seth knew nothing of Shelly and Ronnie, of course. I knew I’d be a long time getting over that mistake. If ever. Their blood was on my hands. 

Buying time, once more I took inventory. My torso and head hurt like fire, and try as I might, I just couldn’t keep things in focus all the time. I was still nauseous and found it difficult to talk much above a hoarse, croaking whisper.

And as Seth had pointed out, my hands were swaddled like big white mittens. My fingers felt restricted by hard objects, and I couldn’t move any of them. I couldn’t budge my left arm either. It was wrapped tight up against me in a sling of some sort. A huge white bandage had been placed over my shoulder wound. My gauze-covered burns stung, and I could feel tape or something halfway around my ribcage, making every breath a chore.

And what was up with my stomach? My insides hurt like a mother. An oxygen line had been taped to my face, going up into my broken nose;
that
was all-out annoying. I could also see a bandage partially covering my left cheek, and felt the stick of stitches and tape as I talked.

As a final fillip, it seemed my aching head was resting on a lump of something; uncomfortable, to say the least. Couldn’t they fix that? Seth was wrong: “a real mess” didn’t even begin to cover it. I must have looked like a train wreck victim. I sure felt like one.

“Why can’t I move these fingers?” I grew increasingly frustrated as I lifted my right hand, like it didn’t belong to me.

“The joints were overextended, and they set all the fractures. It must have happened from the pressure of my keeping your heavy butt out of that pit. You’re too big for your own good, John. Maybe you need to cut down. Too much pie.”

Shivering, I harked back to the hallway shoot-out. “Yeah, I already thought of that.”

He picked up the cup. “More ice?”

“No way, I’m freezing already. Get me an extra blanket, would you? And screw the doctor, I want a drink of water. And some aspirin. Help me sit up.”

Before he could respond an older nurse came storming in, all starch and business. “I see we’re awake, Mr.  Brenner.”

“We?” What is it with these medical types? “You got a mouse in your pocket?”

She ignored my jibe. “Are we feeling better?”

“Jim dandy. Wanna dance?” She didn’t bat an eye. “Here’s what I want, and I want them now. I want to sit up, and I want some water, and I want an extra blanket. I’m cold, dammit. And get this thing out of my face.” I was referring to the oxygen line.

She volleyed back a tough look as she checked the tubes and wires and all. “The blanket’s not a problem, and we’ll raise you up just a little bit. I’ll check to see when you can have water. For now the tube stays.” After pressing a button on the bed’s side, sending me to a half-sitting position, she walked over and pulled an extra blanket from the storage bin in the wall. Tucking it in over and around me, she asked, “How’s that?”

I tried a little charm. “That’s great, thanks. Now, please, about that water? And this oxygen line?”

“We’ll see.” Turning to Seth, she eyed the cup in his hand. “How much ice has he had?”

“A whole one of these, a little at a time.” He held it up for her to see and shook it. “This is the second one.”

“That’s enough.” Taking the cup from him, she whisked out of the room.

Seth just shrugged. “I guess she told you, huh?”

“Battleaxe.” My thoughts were dark as I watched her go. I’ve had more productive conversations with my parrot. It’s no wonder I hate hospitals. Their businesslike detachment always gets to me; the Marquis de Sade had nothing on these people.

Speaking of torture, I returned my attention to Seth. It was time for a few answers. “What happened that night? Where were you? And why did it take you so long to get there? I called your cell, your landline, the hanger, everywhere I could think of.”

“About the landline, Janine might have been on the phone with her mom’s nurse, while I was in the shower. And there was a storm here while you were gone. Knocked out the phone lines at the hangar.”

“Good to know.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You complainin’?”

“Just asking.”

He glanced out the window. “But as far as my cell phone … you’re gonna be ticked at why I didn’t answer.”

“Maybe. Tell me anyway.”

Turning back to me, he rubbed his nose, his ebony face growing even darker. “Well, the truth is … Kenny swiped my Blackberry.”

I gave him a blank look. That took a moment to process. “Your kid Kenny? He
swiped
it?”

“Yeah, I’d laid it on my dresser when I took a quick shower. So I could hear it, you know? While I was in there the little buzzard ran off with it. Said he was playing commando, like Uncle John.” He gave me a wry look. “Remember, he’s your godson. And he’s just turned six. So I figure we both can cut him some slack.”

I stared, not knowing whether to be upset or not. Suppressing a laugh—I did
not
want to laugh, not in this shape—I said to him, “Pretty careless, First Sergeant. If we were still in the service I’d have you busted down to an E-1 for a stunt like that.”

“Listen, don’t rub it in, all right? He and it were both gone. When I finally found him at the neighbor’s, Kenny said he didn’t know where he’d left it during his ‘mission. ’ The two of us looked high and low. Three hours later we finally found it up in his tree house.”

“Tree house,” I repeated slowly.

“Yeah. First thing I did was check messages, voicemail and text, before I squeezed down out of there. When I heard the tone of your voice, and the code word, that was it. I scrambled, grabbed my guns, and ran, making some calls on the way. It’s a miracle I didn’t get stopped.”

“Unbelievable.” I slowly shook my throbbing head. Mistake. I really needed to stop doing that. “Here I almost get myself dissolved in an acid bath because your kid swiped your Blackberry. So how’d you find us down in that room, anyway?”

“Easy.” His reply was blunt. “I just followed your blood trail. But it was the craziest thing. Somehow that elevator worked without me having one of those key cards. How do you figure that?” I couldn’t; maybe Marsh’s magic, maybe … that Someone again. “At any rate, I made it. You’re here, right?”

“That’s not entirely all your doing.” Sheriff Hardesty’s booming voice broke in as he pushed open the door, reentering the room. I guess he’d hung around all day.

“You again,” Seth frowned. “Eavesdropping were we?”

Hardesty’s words were concise. “You had some help, Mr. Delacroix. I received a call from Captain Steven Bovard, over at the Ohio State police barracks, regarding the call you made to him.” Pulling a small tape recorder from his shirt pocket, he clicked it on and held it close to my mouth. “Since you can’t write, I’ll use this for your statement. You
are
ready now, aren’t you?”

My reply was a grunt. “I suppose.”

“Let’s start with those guards’ bodies we found. You were a busy boy that night.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“Did you find anything incriminating before all hell broke loose?”

“Yeah.” I paused. “I got evidence.”

“You did?” he frowned. “What?”

“I didn’t know if I was going to make it out of there alive or not, so I managed to lift a couple of Eli’s DVDs.” I looked at my friend. “You told him about them, right?”

Seth furrowed his brows. “What evidence? What are you talking about?”

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