Touch of Death (9 page)

“Just kill the thing.” Tommy grunted. “Look what it did to Jake.”

“No,” Melodie and I protested. Mike and Tommy looked at us like we were crazy.

I was still shaking, but I couldn’t stand the thought of Tommy or Mike smashing the squirrel with a hammer. “You can’t kill it. It’s a squirrel. It got spooked or something.”

“You call that getting spooked?” Tommy asked.

“It probably freaked out because it got in here and couldn’t find a way out. Animals act really weird when they feel trapped,” I insisted.

Brian flipped his phone shut. “My dad’s just around the corner. He said he’d be here in a minute.”

That made me feel a little better. At least if the vet decided to kill the squirrel, he’d do it in a humane way. One that didn’t involve a hammer or a two-by-four.

Sirens blared in the background, and brakes squealed as the ambulance pulled up to the building. We stood around staring at each other as the paramedics took Jake out on a stretcher. They said he’d lost a lot of blood and would need a series of rabies shots, but he’d be okay. Mike’s brow was sweating, probably because he was going to have to fill out another accident report. I swear I overheard him ask Tommy if he thought Jake would sue.

Brian’s father got there right after the paramedics left with Jake.

“Luke Hemshaw, veterinarian.” He reached out and shook Mike’s trembling hand.

Mike pointed to the toolbox. “It’s in there.”

Dr. Hemshaw carefully opened the box. He gasped when he saw the squirrel and quickly slammed the toolbox shut again, which made the thing start chattering like crazy. He reached into his medical bag, muttering, “This is impossible. It can’t be.”

“What?” I asked. “Does it have a disease or something?”

He turned and looked at me. “No, it’s not sick. It’s dead.”

“It isn’t dead,” Mike argued. “It attacked Jake. Ripped the back of his neck right off.”

I felt the two bites of waffle I’d eaten for breakfast coming back up.

Dr. Hemshaw took a syringe from his bag. “I’m going to sedate it and show you what I mean.”

Sedate it? He just said it was dead. Melodie looped her arm through mine, squeezing me in fear. I watched Dr. Hemshaw open the toolbox just enough to stick the needle inside. After a few seconds, he pulled the needle out and put a latex glove on his hand. He reached into the toolbox and pulled out the squirrel. It was covered in blood, Jake’s blood. Dr. Hemshaw turned the squirrel over in his hand. “Have a look.” No one wanted a better look at the thing. We stood still. Finally, Dr. Hemshaw stepped forward and showed us the squirrel. The back of its head was smashed in from where my hammer had hit it, and its brains were leaking out.

Melodie covered her mouth and ran from the room. Mike wasn’t far behind her. I was frozen in place, not able to move or talk.

“There’s no possible way this animal is alive.” Dr. Hemshaw shook his head. “Yet, it attacked someone, and I had to sedate it.” He sighed, unable to make sense of it.

“What are you—?” I gagged, my throat constricting from the sight of the squirrel.

“Sorry.” He covered the squirrel’s head with his other hand so I couldn’t see its brains anymore.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“The only humane thing to do is euthanize it. It’s clearly in pain, and it can’t survive like this. Another animal would pick it off in a matter of minutes.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. I’d seen what the squirrel could do, even with the contents of its head spilling out.

Dr. Hemshaw took another syringe from his bag. Taking one last look at the squirrel, he euthanized it. “I’m going to take this to my office, check it for rabies and other diseases so I can let the hospital know how to treat… Jake, is it?”

I nodded as Dr. Hemshaw walked to the door. I was still in a daze. My life couldn’t get more bizarre.

“You should really go get that hand looked at,” Mike said after Dr. Hemshaw had left. He was writing on his clipboard.

“Yeah, I’ll go now. I just need to find a ride. I walked here because my car is in the shop.” I thought about the deer and how it had looked dead, but then it got up and ran off. Ran off and terrorized a farm, killing two sheep. The reporter said the deer was probably rabid. Images of the deer popped into my head. It had looked… well, like the squirrel did. Diseased. Dead. What was going on in this town? And why did I always seem to be around when it happened?

“Want me to get one of the guys to drive you?” Mike asked.

“No, that’s okay.” I didn’t know these guys. They seemed nice enough, but Mom would kill me if I got in a car with a strange guy like that. It wasn’t like my injury was life-threatening.

“Come on, let’s go home.” Melodie still looked green.

“I have to get my hand checked out and make sure my tetanus shot is up to date.”

“My car’s at home. How are you going to get there?”

It was too far to walk to the clinic. “Mom left me her car, but I’m not good at driving stick. I hate to ask, but could we walk to your house and you maybe drive me? You can drop me off if you don’t want to wait around for me. I’ll call Matt or someone for a ride home.”

“Yeah, okay. Maybe the doctor will have something to settle my stomach.”

We walked back to Melodie’s house, and she ran inside to get the keys to her car. I leaned against the passenger side door. The sun was bright, and it felt good. My entire body was chilled to the core, and not because of the February weather. I heard a noise in the bushes and jolted upright. Dirty blonde hair stuck out from the top of the closest bush.

“Alex?” Normally, I would’ve been freaked out, but I had had enough for one day. “I can see you. Enough with the games. I’m not in the mood.”

He stepped into the open. Finally, we could get this over with. But Melodie came rushing out of the house with the car keys. “Sorry that took so long, I—” She stopped when she saw Alex.

“Melodie, this is Alex, my personal stalker.”

He glared at me, not even glancing at Melodie. “Another time.” He turned and disappeared behind the bushes.

Melodie unlocked the car. “Get in. Let’s get out of here before he comes back.”

“He’s not coming back.” At least not now. He wanted me alone.

We drove to the clinic. Melodie insisted on waiting for me while the doctor examined my finger and checked my files. “It will give me a chance to catch up on all these ancient issues of magazines no one but a doctor would ever subscribe to.”

I smiled at her and followed Nurse Bennett into one of the back rooms. I’d known her all my life, which was the only reason she took me in despite the fact that the clinic was closing for the day. She took my blood pressure and then un-bandaged my finger. The cut was deep and embedded with flecks of rust. That couldn’t be healthy.

“Jodi, you cut yourself on a rusty nail, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I was helping rebuild the community center this morning.”

She put on a pair of gloves, sat down on a swivel chair, and wheeled herself over to me. “Rebuilding the community center, huh?” She took my hand in hers. “Let me guess, college application time is coming up and you’re lacking in community service?”

If it hadn’t been true, I would’ve gotten offended. It’s not like I was against doing community service. It’s just I spent my free time helping Mom around the house. She worked so much. It wasn’t easy for her to support the both of us and keep the house clean.

I turned away, not wanting to watch Nurse Bennett remove the rust. Warm blood ran down my finger. She pressed a piece of gauze on the cut and applied pressure. I winced. “Hold this for a second.” I took over, not putting anywhere near as much pressure on my hand. The cut on my left finger stung. The stupid thing wouldn’t heal. It was bleeding through the Band-Aid again. Now I had a matching pair. Nurse Bennett came back with a tray at the same time Dr. Alvarez came in. She filled him in on my situation.

Dr. Alvarez sat in front of me. “Okay, I’m going to put some dissolving sutures on this finger. It’s not that bad, but since you’re probably going to want to use your hand in the next few weeks, this will help it heal quicker.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He worked quickly. “There, that should do.” He put his instruments down on the tray, and Nurse Bennett carried them out of the room. As Dr. Alvarez removed his gloves, his eyes fell on the bloody Band-Aid on my left finger. “Another cut? Let’s get a fresh Band-Aid for that.” He changed the bandage, getting some of my blood on him in the process.

“Sorry,” I said.

“No worries. We have disinfectant soap, and exposure like that is pretty low risk. It happens a lot.” He went to the sink. “We don’t need to worry about—” He gagged, like he was choking on water.

I hopped down from the examination table. “Dr. Alvarez, are you okay?”

He reached a soapy hand to his chest and fell to the floor, his head landing at my feet. I jumped back, knocking over the tray and the chair. Nurse Bennett knocked on the door and peeked her head in. “Is everything—” her eyes darted from the mess to me to Dr. Alvarez. “What happened?” She rushed to him, but looked surprisingly calm.

“I-I don’t know. He was washing his hands.” I pointed to the faucet, which was still running. “And then he started choking like he was having trouble breathing. I asked him if he was okay, but he clutched his chest and collapsed.”

Nurse Bennett bent down and listened for sounds of breathing. She pressed two fingers to the side of his neck. “Call 911 and have Helen get me the AED now.” I grabbed my cell from my back pocket, but Nurse Bennett pointed to the phone on the wall. “Use the landline.” I grabbed it and dialed.

“911. What is your emergency?”

“Dr. Alvarez collapsed. I think he had a heart attack. We’re at the clinic on Seventh Street. Nurse Bennett said they’re going to use something called an AED.” I had no idea what that was.

“Foxmoor Clinic on Seventh Street?”

“Yes. Please, send someone,” I pleaded before hanging up the phone.

“What can I do?” I asked.

“Jodi, please go in the waiting room. I need room to operate the AED.” Her voice was calm and composed, as Helen rushed in with what looked like a black box in both hands. She must have overheard Nurse Bennett ask for the AED.

I nodded and stepped around her. Melodie was reading a magazine, completely oblivious to what was going on. “Hey, did you know eating corn makes your stomach look fat?” she blurted the second she saw me. She flipped the page before doing a double take in my direction.

I broke down, tears streaming down my face.

Melodie put the magazine aside. “What happened? Do you have to get rabies shots? They don’t have to amputate your hand or anything, do they?”

I grabbed a tissue from the receptionist desk. “It’s Dr. Alvarez. He collapsed. I think he had a heart attack.”

“Seriously?” Melodie asked. “Like an actual heart attack?”

I nodded and threw my tissue in the garbage. “I called 911. Nurse Bennett is trying to help him.”

“Come, sit down.” Melodie patted the seat next to her. I didn’t want to talk anymore. It was way too scary. Melodie seemed to sense that because, for once, she wasn’t grilling me with questions.

We sat there in silence, watching the paramedics rush into the waiting room. I pointed to the examination room. “He’s back there.” Two of them went on ahead while the third, a guy in his twenties, held back for a minute.

“Everyone okay out here?”

“Yeah. Shaken up, but okay. I was with him when it happened.”

“Can you tell me exactly what happened? How he acted? What he did?”

More questions. Everyone kept asking me to relive the scariest moments in my life.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this is tough, but anything you can tell me may help save his life.”

I took at deep breath and swallowed hard. “He was putting a new bandage on my finger and I bled on him, so he went to the sink to clean it off, and then he started to choke. He reached for his chest and fell to the floor.” I was breathing heavily, but managed to hold back the tears.

The paramedic nodded. “Thank you.” He stood up, probably to join the others in the back room, but Helen came into the waiting room. Her face was blank. We stared at her, waiting for the word on Dr. Alvarez. She shook her head and stepped aside as the paramedics wheeled a stretcher into the back room. The silence was deafening. A few minutes later, the paramedics brought the bed back out, but this time there was a covered body lying on it.

“He’s dead.” I barely recognized my own voice.

Chapter 9

The paramedic we’d been talking to practically pushed us out the door. If he was worried about us being traumatized at the sight of a dead body, he was a little late. I’d seen more dead bodies in the past couple days than a mortician. The deer—I still swore he’d been dead—the rat, the squirrel, and now Dr. Alvarez. But I still let him usher us outside. I had to practically beg him to let us go home on our own. He wanted us to call a cab or one of our parents, but neither Mel nor I had money on us and our parents were working. I didn’t want to give the paramedic time to change his mind, so we hopped into Melodie’s car and got out of there.