Red-Line: The Shift (Volume One) (23 page)

“Damn it.” Ramsey’s frustration was evident. He dropped his head and sighed. “She must have known…” He stopped and looked down at Sarah, realizing then what she had done for Leroy and for him. “I’m sorry.” He spoke to her as if she could hear him. “I did this. This is my fault.” Despite his joy at Leroy’s recovery, he now berated himself for his perceived neglect. He grasped and squeezed her hand before looking back at Hannah with steely determination. He bent to pick up Sarah. “Hurry. We’ve got to get her back in the water.” He stood with Sarah in his arms. “She saved Leroy, and I’m damn well going to save her.”

RAMSEY CARRIED SARAH into the adjacent bathroom. Hannah raced ahead and turned on the faucet. She made the water hot, but not too hot. She had no idea what Sarah could tolerate at this point. Her main objective was to warm Sarah up. Hopefully, her body’s defenses would kick back in and do the rest.

Ramsey laid her in the tub as the water began to rise. He sat down next to her unresponsive form, willing her to come back, waiting for some sign that she would regenerate the heat vital to her survival.

As Hannah and Ramsey tended to Sarah, Declan helped by utilizing his own talents and began the process of removing the three bodies from the house. He made a few phone calls to people who he knew could be discreet and efficient. He searched the pockets of all three but found nothing. No phones or wallets or any form of ID. Since all three bodies required identification and he wanted an autopsy, he made arrangements for them to be taken to a local medical lab run by people he knew and trusted. He moved X, Z, and the older man into the garage and covered them until their bodies could be collected.

His next job was to put the house back into some semblance of order. He found some plywood in the garage to cover the broken window in the living room, then returned the tables and chairs to their rightful places and did a quick sweep of the floor to remove the larger shards of glass. He checked on Leroy to ensure he continued to rest comfortably. Declan worked to keep his mind off Sarah. He knew she had risked her life to save all of them, and now he prayed that her life could be saved as well.

Within the hour of making the call, two members of his security team arrived to remove the bodies. Declan met them at the garage door and helped move the remains into a waiting van. He talked to one of the men before they drove away to ensure his instructions were clear. He did not call Morgana. He decided he would wait for Leroy’s input before that phone call was made. He also wanted to see if Sarah’s condition improved. When he looked at his watch, he was surprised to see that almost three hours had passed since he’d begun his clean up. He went inside to check on Ramsey and Hannah’s progress.

The scene in the bathroom did not encourage him. Ramsey sat on the floor by the bathtub as he held Sarah’s hand. Hannah ran the water off and on in order to keep it as warm as possible. Sarah appeared no different than before. She was unresponsive and very pale. Her hair hung limply around her face, and her eyes remained closed. She no longer emanated the vibrant energy that Declan had previously felt from her.

“Sarah?” Ramsey tried again to rouse her. “Sarah, come on. Can you hear me?” His voice sounded strained, and Declan sensed his distress.

“Ramsey.” Hannah tried to get his attention. “The water’s gone cold.” When he didn’t reply to her, she tried again. “Ramsey. We can’t keep her in here. This is doing more damage than good. We have to take her out.” Hannah’s fatigued voice finally seemed to reach him, and he looked up at her.

He glanced down at the water and put his fingers in it. His face clouded, and he closed his eyes, then opened them again. He looked down at Sarah’s colorless, unresponsive features and then turned back to Hannah.

“Okay,” he said, “go pull the sheets off the master bed and put some new ones on. There should be some clean ones in the linen closet.” Hannah, grateful for something else to do, began to rise. Ramsey continued. “We also need to clean that bathroom floor in there. Clean up the shards of mirror, in case we…” He paused. “No, when we need to use that bathtub again.”

Hannah said nothing. She nodded and left the bathroom.

Declan could tell his stepbrother was on the edge. Ramsey’s last twenty-four hours had been a mix of extreme highs and lows. That mix, combined with little sleep and no food except for a few bites of cold eggs that morning, was taking its toll on him.

“John?” Declan asked.

Ramsey did not respond. He continued to sit with Sarah, as if willing her to come back.

“John.” He tried again. “Why don’t you let me sit with her for a while? Go take a break. Check in on Leroy.”

At the sound of Leroy’s name, Ramsey finally seemed to acknowledge him. He glanced up at Declan, who was startled when he saw the anguish in his brother’s eyes.

“How’s is he?” Ramsey asked him.

“He’s fine. You should go look in on him. Take a break for a while. I’ll stay with Sarah.” Declan hoped he would agree.

Ramsey sighed as he looked at Sarah and then back at Declan. He ran his fingers though the water again and watched the ripples travel over the surface. He sat up slowly, leaned in, and placed his arm into the water and unplugged the drain. The water began to empty, and Ramsey’s face conveyed his dwindling hope that Sarah would regain the strength she’d lost.

Declan could not recall seeing him so miserable. Leroy’s near death had devastated him, but Sarah’s current condition and the cause of it seemed to eat away at him like a nagging virus. Ramsey blamed himself, and it occurred to Declan that if Sarah died, his brother, although still alive, would be just as dead inside.

Ramsey stood and released Sarah’s hand. He swayed for a second but caught himself, and Declan reached to help, but Ramsey waved him off.

“I’m okay.” He took a breath and steadied himself, then eyed Declan. “Stay with her. I just need a few minutes.”

“No problem. Take your time.” Declan sank down next to the tub as Ramsey left the small room.

Ramsey walked into the hall, his body aching from the events of the last forty-eight hours. He cursed himself for his mistakes. Despite their attempts, Sarah had not responded to the water, and worse, she seemed to be weakening. He battled with himself as he replayed in his mind the events leading up to this, but he could not find a resolution that in any way calmed his troubled mind. It had been her or Leroy. She must have known but said nothing. He wondered what he would have done if she had given him the choice. He didn’t know. Rationally, Leroy’s death would have crushed him, but Sarah’s death sentenced them all. At the time, though, rationality had played no part in his actions. His friend had lay dying, and Sarah had saved him, not just for Leroy’s sake but also for his own. And that was the part that was killing him.

He stopped for a moment outside the bathroom to prop his arm against the wall and lean against it. He took some deep breaths and tried to focus. He knew the hours in front of him would be long and difficult, but he would not give up on her. His stomach grumbled, but he had no interest in food. He straightened as he pushed back against the wall, and he walked into the bedroom where Leroy lay sleeping. He sat at Leroy’s feet and stared off into the distance, his mind going blank with fatigue. He closed his eyes to rest them.

“Hey, sleepy head.” The faint voice alerted him, and he opened his eyes. Leroy lay awake, watching him.

“Hey, you’re the one catching all the Z’s around here.” He tried to sound relaxed.

Leroy wasn’t fooled, though. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

As usual, Ramsey failed to hide anything from Leroy, but he kept trying anyway. “Nothing’s wrong. Go back to sleep.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Sherlock.”

“I’m actually quite a good liar, Leroy.”

“Not with me, you’re not. Where’s Sarah?”

Ramsey said nothing, and Leroy started to sit up. The blood on his shirt and stomach had dried, and now the fabric and sheets stuck to him as he moved.

Ramsey moved to stop him. “What are you doing?” He tried to get Leroy to lie back down. “You almost died a few hours ago.”

Leroy ignored him, sat all the way up, and swung his legs over the bed as if he’d just had a full night of solid sleep. “That was a few hours ago. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m healed.” He looked down at himself. “I need a shower.”

“Leroy,” said Ramsey, the angst back in his voice, “I swear to God, if you collapse on me, I’ll kill you.”

“Sherlock.” Leroy’s tone was strong and pointed, and he met Ramsey’s eyes. “I am not going to die.” He held his stare. “You understand?”

Ramsey let out a ragged breath, relaxed his posture, but held the look. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Leroy watched as his friend teetered on an emotional ledge. “Yeah, well, if it helps, it scared the hell out of me, too.”

Ramsey half smiled and tried to appear calmer. “Still want me to water your plants?”

Leroy chuckled. “Are you kidding? No need for them to die.” He stood slowly, and Ramsey supported him as he steadied himself.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, watching Ramsey.

“What’s that?” asked Ramsey, knowing exactly what Leroy was referring to.

“You know. Sarah. Where is she?’ He watched Ramsey’s demeanor deflate.

“She’s in the bathtub,” answered Ramsey, deciding he could not keep the truth from Leroy. “Take a look for yourself.”

Leroy took a few short steps and, realizing he was strong enough, headed into the bathroom unassisted. He stopped to see a lifeless Sarah lying in the drained tub with Declan by her side. The energy previously pulsing from her was gone, and her skin had gone from red to white.

Declan regarded Leroy. “Well, look who’s up. How are you feeling?”

Leroy took in the scene. “I’d feel better if she were better.”

Declan’s eyes tracked from Sarah and back to Leroy. “She’s still hanging in there. We’re not giving up on her.”

Leroy continued to watch her. “She’s a brave lady.” He paused. “I take it what she did for me caused this?”

Ramsey answered. “Don’t do that, Leroy. She did it because she had no other choice. She couldn’t watch you die.”

“She barely knew me, Sherlock.”

“That didn’t matter to her. She did it because that’s who she is. She’d have done it for any of us.”

Leroy heard Ramsey’s words, but he knew the truth and could sense it as well as anyone in the room. Sarah hadn’t done it for his sake; she’d done it for Ramsey’s, and that was what was eating at his friend. It was why he’d looked so troubled when Leroy had awakened and seen him wrestling with his emotions and self-doubt.

Ramsey continued. “This is not your fault, Leroy. Don’t blame yourself.”

Leroy turned and faced him. “And I’ll ask you to do the same, Sherlock. This isn’t your fault either. Don’t put this on your shoulders.”

Ramsey stilled at Leroy’s advice. He saw Declan, who also looked back with that same expression, conveying Leroy’s words, but saying nothing.

He ignored them both. He stood silent in the room, refusing to let himself off the hook. He responded tersely, without meaning to. “We need to get her out of here and into some dry clothes.” He proceeded to step closer as Declan moved aside. He kneeled down and picked up Sarah carefully, holding her close. The wetness of her clothes seeped into his as he carried her out of the small bathroom, through the living room, and back into the master bedroom. Declan and Leroy watched him go.

DECLAN ROSE FROM his seat on the floor. “I’ve never seen him like this,” he said.

Leroy didn’t answer. After a moment, he replied, “He’s battling demons.” Leroy continued to stare after his friend. “He’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe,” said Declan. “That is, if she lives.”

Leroy regarded Declan. “Well, if she dies, than it really won’t matter, will it?”

Declan considered that. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

Leroy looked down at himself. “I think I need to clean myself up a bit.”

Declan didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Shower’s all yours. You have a change of clothes?”

“Yes. I keep some in the bedroom closet.”

“Okay.” Declan paused before leaving the bathroom. “I should tell you that our bad guys, X and Z, are dead, along with their older friend.”

Remembering his encounter with Z, Leroy answered, “I assumed as much. Where are they now?”

“I made a phone call. Had the bodies picked up a little while ago. They had no identification on them. The lab will try to make a positive ID.”

“And Morgana?” asked Leroy.

Declan shrugged. “I figured you’d want to handle that phone call.”

Leroy’s shoulders fell. “You leave me with all the fun jobs, don’t you?”

“That’s what happens when you’ve been sleeping for the last three hours.”

Leroy grunted. “So much for sympathy.”

Declan turned serious. “All kidding aside, Leroy, I’m glad you’re back among the living. You had us pretty scared.”

Leroy smiled. “Me too, Declan. Me too. And thanks for what you did for me. I know Sarah was the ringleader, but I get a strong feeling she couldn’t have done it without help from everyone.”

“No thanks required,” said Declan. “I’m just glad I don’t have to be the one who keeps John out of trouble.”

Leroy chuckled. “Yes, that is a big job. You’re welcome to help at any time, though.”

Declan smiled back. “He’s all yours.”

“That’s what I thought.” Leroy responded. “Now get outta here. I’ve got to get myself cleaned up.”

With that, Declan turned and left and Leroy closed the bathroom door.

Twenty minutes later, Leroy reemerged, looking and feeling much better. He dropped his bloody clothes in the trashcan in the kitchen as Declan sat at the kitchen table, munching on a sandwich.

“You’re looking better,” said Declan.

“I don’t think I could have looked any worse.” He looked around the room and took in the scattered remnants of glass on the carpet and the bloodstains in various areas of the room. He allowed himself a moment to consider how close it had been for him, but it was unlike him to dwell on what could have been, so he shrugged it off and moved on.