| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted July 7, 2020 | Chapters: |
...22 23 -24- 25... 
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A fight for survival, a struggle for faith.
A chapter in the book Looking for Orion - 2
Trouble Follows - part 3
by DeboraDyess
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
| Background After an attack in the hospital, the battle to save Cody takes a horrible turn. |
Synopsis: Two years after the murder of Cody McClellan's wife in a robbery, his older brother decides it's time to take Cody on a camping trip to reconnect. Upon arriving at the state park, the brothers set up camp and Jack decides to take a nap. Cody goes on a 'photo safari', looking for great shots of nature. Hearing someone crying, he jogs to the top of a hill, where he stumbles into n assasination-in-progress.
He is shot. The intended victim runs into the dense woods and the shooters chase him.
Hearing the shot, Jack searches frantically for his younger brother, finds him and begins the arduous journey out of the park, fully aware that the hitmen will be hot on their heels.
The pair stumble upon a father and son who are setting up camp. They are hustled into the family's car as the assasins catch up to them, narrowly escaping.
Once at the hospital, Cody crashes. The doctor prepares to call time-of-death but Jack prays, begging God for his brother's life. The prayer works, and Cody's heart begins to beat again.
The next day, however, one of the hitmen shows up at the hospital, dressed as an orderly. He puts a syringe full of poison into Cody's IV. Jack again manages to rescue his brother with the help of an FBI agent, who is interested in the case.
End of previous segment:
Jack gritted his teeth, calling on every ounce of his strength to maintain control of his temper. The revolver felt hard and heavy in his hand, and it was all he could do not to raise it to the maniacal grin and pull the trigger. "How do we stop it?"
Lehmann grinned again. "That's the beauty of it. You don't. It just gets worse and worse 'til he dies."
"Get that garbage out of here!" Dr. Kitman ordered Aulers. She pushed her long, black hair behind one shoulder as she examined the fresh trauma to Cody's back. She looked at Lehmann, eyes blazing, and ordered, "Now!"
Aulers shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off the big man in front of him. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm not going to do that. He's more or less secure in this room. I'm waiting for backup here. If he moves, I'll just shoot him. There's no way I'm losing him now."
"Then shut him up," the doctor demanded, her tone no less hostile.
Aulers nodded. "Keep your hands where I can see them," he told Lehmann. "Turn around. Face the wall."
Lehmann looked shocked. "An' miss the show?"
"The wall," Aulers repeated.
The big man shook his head sadly, sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. "I'll do it," he whined, "but I ain't goin' to like it." He turned and Aulers produced handcuffs, securing them around Lehmann's wrists while Jack kept the revolver trained on him.
"And if he says another word," the petite woman added, "shoot him. Don't kill him. Just shoot him so I can treat him." Her voice held an unexpected, ice-cold edge.
Aulers smiled. "Yes, ma'am."
Lehmann didn't move or speak again.
Jack glanced toward Cody and caught sight of his nephew. The boy's face looked paper white, his eyes round with fear. Jack lowered his weapon, moved to stand beside the boy and wrapped his arms around him. Michael leaned heavily into him, crying and shaking. "Not my dad..." Michael cried hoarsely. "Uncle Jack, please ... not my dad."
Jack didn't have any words to comfort him. He looked down at the boy's dark hair. Michael was only a few months younger than Cody had been when their dad died. He looked up at the ceiling, frowned and swallowed hard. This couldn't be happening.
"Oh, baby," Rachel whispered. She reached back to take Michael's hand. "Come here."
Michael looked toward his grandmother, still hanging onto Jack. "Dad!" He catapulted away from his uncle, landing on his knees beside his father's bed.
Cody lay half on his side, eyes barely open. He blinked a couple of times, opened his mouth wordlessly and squeezed his eyes closed. When he opened them again, he worked hard to focus them on his mother. "Mom?" His voice sounded tissue paper frail.
"Right here," Rachel replied, laughing and crying at the same time. "Are you okay?"
Cody hesitated. "I ... yeah ... I ... I think so."
Jack looked at Lehmann. "You lose," he said to the man's back.
Lehmann didn't turn. "Just watch."
He still sounded too smug. Jack would have loved to take him by the throat, just like the man had taken Michael, and not let go. He turned back to his brother.
Dr. Kitman leaned over him, talking softly. "Mr. McClellan, I need you to tell me everything you're feeling right now."
Cody swallowed. "I'm cold. My ... hand burns. Feels like fire shooting up ... my arm to my ... my chest. But I'm so cold."
The doctor frowned. "Where is the pain?"
"I... I don't know ... "
"You're fightin' a forest fire, here," Lehmann piped in. "You ain't goin' to be able to do nothin'."
"Want me to shoot him now, Doctor?" Aulers asked dryly.
As Dr. Kitman glanced toward the agent she saw the syringe. It lay at Lehmann's feet. She stared intently at Jack, who looked up, caught her forceful gaze and studied her face. She nodded toward the syringe on the floor, her eyes speaking what she feared to say aloud. "Give me that, please," she said. She didn't change her tone or volume, afraid that Lehmann would catch on, see the syringe and step backward onto it, destroying their only hope.
Jack looked over, eyes widening, and quickly stepped around the foot of the bed. He bent and scooped the syringe into his massive hand as Lehmann realized the importance of the doctor's statement and glanced to see what Jack had.
"It don't matter," Lehmann said into the wall. "It's too late. Anything you do now's too late."
Jack started to reply, to tell Lehmann that it was only too late for him; that it was only over for him, but Cody groaned. The words stopped in Jack's throat and he glanced down.
Cody was paler than he had been only a minute before. His face, contorted in pain, glistened with sweat. "Get Michael ... out!" he cried.
"But, Dad!"
"Now!" Panic filled Cody's voice.
Rachel grabbed Michael by the forearm and dragged him out the door into the hallway. "No, Grandma," Michael screamed franticly. "Dad!" The door shut behind them, muffling the boy's protest.
Lehmann started to laugh, victory bubbling out of him. "He's sinkin' fast, big brother, and this time he ain't comin' up for air!"
Aulers hissed at him to shut up and Lehmann changed the laugh to a periodic snort.
"You're going to have to help us out here, Code. Doc needs to know where you hurt." Jack bent close to Cody, ignoring Lehmann and Aulers.
"Everywhere!" Cody moaned, teeth clenched. Sweat covered his face. He looked at Jack, eyes wild with pain and fear. Cody's back arched suddenly and then he doubled forward. Jack grabbed him and held him tightly, not knowing what else to do for him. After a minute the pain passed, and Cody collapsed onto the bed. He gasped in air, as if deprived for far too long.
"Hey, kid." Jack wiped Cody's face with his hand, shoving sweat soaked hair out of his eyes. "Still with me?"
"What'd he do?" Cody's eyes looked like hollow sockets, midnight black.
"Nothing we can't figure out." Heart racing, Jack felt less certain than he sounded. "You'll be dancing by dawn."
"Didn't bring ... the right shoes," Cody whispered.
Jack swallowed and took a slow breath. "Couldn't dance if you did. Shoes don't make the man."
"Pam talked ... too much."
Dr. Kitman looked over her patient to the man facing the far wall. "Tell me everything you know about this toxin."
"Me?" Lehmann shifted from one foot to the other. He scratched the side of his butt with his cuffed hands. "Nah ... I don't think so, ma'am. If I start talkin' too much, you told Frank there to shoot me, 'member? I'd hate to be under your care. No offense, ma'am."
"There's some toxin left in this syringe, and I'm not sure I'm above using it on you at this point."
Lehmann stiffened and hesitated. Aulers raised his eyebrows but otherwise his expression did not change.
"I mean it," the dark-haired woman warned, although she knew she did not.
"Use it on me," Lehmann challenged. "You won't get nothin' that'll help him. Ain't enough there gonna do nothin' much to me, and it ain't gonna keep him alive."
"Who developed the compound?" Aulers asked.
Lehmann looked over his shoulder at the agent, smiling. "I told you. I did."
"No offense, blondie, but you don't look like you have the intelligence to mix a martini."
"Give somebody a drawl an' a clear understandin' of what you race-mixers are all about, an' all the sudden you decide he's stupid."
"Race-mixers?" The doctor glanced up at the giant. "My mother is Hispanic. What does that make me?"
Lehmann turned his upper body to spit at her. "Inferior."
Before Aulers or Kitman could respond, a team of agents arrived to escort Lehmann away. Jack barely noticed.
Aulers laid a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find out what this is, Jack. We've made our toxicology lab available and we're the best. And, when we're not the best, we figure out who is, and get in touch with them. We will figure this out."
Jack nodded shortly, his thoughts too jumbled to comment. Too much had happened, way too fast. He wiped Cody's forehead with a damp cloth, never taking his eyes from his face.
Another attack hit Cody nine minutes after the first passed. Anguish tore from his throat in frenzied screams. Convulsions hit, one after the other, reminding Jack of the previous afternoon, crash cart sending massive charges of electricity through Cody's body. Except this would not end with Kitman looking in wonder, placing paddles to one side. This was death.
As the episode subsided, Dr. Kitman returned with two new doctors in tow. One, Jack recognized from the day before in the emergency room. He'd been called down to them to give a neurology consult. The other was a stranger. As the three scanned the machines monitoring Cody's vitals, Jack's frustration and anger erupted, targeting the team. "Do something!" he yelled.
The neurologist looked at him. "If I do the wrong thing I could make it worse than--"
"Than what?" Jack roared. "Than this? Are you crazy, or haven't you been paying attention?"
The neurologist bristled. He was balding, thick chested and hook-nosed. "We have the top chemists in the country working on this. The FBI lab is working on this. What else, exactly, do you suggest I do?"
"You're doctors!" Jack barked, his rage stealing control.
Staring steadily into Jack's dark eyes, the trauma doctor nodded. "That's right, Jack," she said quietly. "I'm a doctor. Not God, just a doctor. We have to be careful that we do the right thing--not just something." She knelt beside him. "Jack, we are trying."
Hook-Nose interrupted, "This isn't your case, Dr. Kitman. You're here as a courtesy."
She stood, turned to face him and squared her shoulders. "And I'm trying to be courteous. To you, Neil. You asked me to come and deal with the family. That's exactly what I'm doing. I have another five minutes before I have to be back downstairs. If you want my help, you need to shut up."
Neil the neurologist. That has to bite. He thought about how much Cody would like that. He hoped he could tell him later.
He is shot. The intended victim runs into the dense woods and the shooters chase him.
Hearing the shot, Jack searches frantically for his younger brother, finds him and begins the arduous journey out of the park, fully aware that the hitmen will be hot on their heels.
The pair stumble upon a father and son who are setting up camp. They are hustled into the family's car as the assasins catch up to them, narrowly escaping.
Once at the hospital, Cody crashes. The doctor prepares to call time-of-death but Jack prays, begging God for his brother's life. The prayer works, and Cody's heart begins to beat again.
The next day, however, one of the hitmen shows up at the hospital, dressed as an orderly. He puts a syringe full of poison into Cody's IV. Jack again manages to rescue his brother with the help of an FBI agent, who is interested in the case.
End of previous segment:
Jack gritted his teeth, calling on every ounce of his strength to maintain control of his temper. The revolver felt hard and heavy in his hand, and it was all he could do not to raise it to the maniacal grin and pull the trigger. "How do we stop it?"
Lehmann grinned again. "That's the beauty of it. You don't. It just gets worse and worse 'til he dies."
"Get that garbage out of here!" Dr. Kitman ordered Aulers. She pushed her long, black hair behind one shoulder as she examined the fresh trauma to Cody's back. She looked at Lehmann, eyes blazing, and ordered, "Now!"
Aulers shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off the big man in front of him. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm not going to do that. He's more or less secure in this room. I'm waiting for backup here. If he moves, I'll just shoot him. There's no way I'm losing him now."
"Then shut him up," the doctor demanded, her tone no less hostile.
Aulers nodded. "Keep your hands where I can see them," he told Lehmann. "Turn around. Face the wall."
Lehmann looked shocked. "An' miss the show?"
"The wall," Aulers repeated.
The big man shook his head sadly, sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. "I'll do it," he whined, "but I ain't goin' to like it." He turned and Aulers produced handcuffs, securing them around Lehmann's wrists while Jack kept the revolver trained on him.
"And if he says another word," the petite woman added, "shoot him. Don't kill him. Just shoot him so I can treat him." Her voice held an unexpected, ice-cold edge.
Aulers smiled. "Yes, ma'am."
Lehmann didn't move or speak again.
Jack glanced toward Cody and caught sight of his nephew. The boy's face looked paper white, his eyes round with fear. Jack lowered his weapon, moved to stand beside the boy and wrapped his arms around him. Michael leaned heavily into him, crying and shaking. "Not my dad..." Michael cried hoarsely. "Uncle Jack, please ... not my dad."
Jack didn't have any words to comfort him. He looked down at the boy's dark hair. Michael was only a few months younger than Cody had been when their dad died. He looked up at the ceiling, frowned and swallowed hard. This couldn't be happening.
"Oh, baby," Rachel whispered. She reached back to take Michael's hand. "Come here."
Michael looked toward his grandmother, still hanging onto Jack. "Dad!" He catapulted away from his uncle, landing on his knees beside his father's bed.
Cody lay half on his side, eyes barely open. He blinked a couple of times, opened his mouth wordlessly and squeezed his eyes closed. When he opened them again, he worked hard to focus them on his mother. "Mom?" His voice sounded tissue paper frail.
"Right here," Rachel replied, laughing and crying at the same time. "Are you okay?"
Cody hesitated. "I ... yeah ... I ... I think so."
Jack looked at Lehmann. "You lose," he said to the man's back.
Lehmann didn't turn. "Just watch."
He still sounded too smug. Jack would have loved to take him by the throat, just like the man had taken Michael, and not let go. He turned back to his brother.
Dr. Kitman leaned over him, talking softly. "Mr. McClellan, I need you to tell me everything you're feeling right now."
Cody swallowed. "I'm cold. My ... hand burns. Feels like fire shooting up ... my arm to my ... my chest. But I'm so cold."
The doctor frowned. "Where is the pain?"
"I... I don't know ... "
"You're fightin' a forest fire, here," Lehmann piped in. "You ain't goin' to be able to do nothin'."
"Want me to shoot him now, Doctor?" Aulers asked dryly.
As Dr. Kitman glanced toward the agent she saw the syringe. It lay at Lehmann's feet. She stared intently at Jack, who looked up, caught her forceful gaze and studied her face. She nodded toward the syringe on the floor, her eyes speaking what she feared to say aloud. "Give me that, please," she said. She didn't change her tone or volume, afraid that Lehmann would catch on, see the syringe and step backward onto it, destroying their only hope.
Jack looked over, eyes widening, and quickly stepped around the foot of the bed. He bent and scooped the syringe into his massive hand as Lehmann realized the importance of the doctor's statement and glanced to see what Jack had.
"It don't matter," Lehmann said into the wall. "It's too late. Anything you do now's too late."
Jack started to reply, to tell Lehmann that it was only too late for him; that it was only over for him, but Cody groaned. The words stopped in Jack's throat and he glanced down.
Cody was paler than he had been only a minute before. His face, contorted in pain, glistened with sweat. "Get Michael ... out!" he cried.
"But, Dad!"
"Now!" Panic filled Cody's voice.
Rachel grabbed Michael by the forearm and dragged him out the door into the hallway. "No, Grandma," Michael screamed franticly. "Dad!" The door shut behind them, muffling the boy's protest.
Lehmann started to laugh, victory bubbling out of him. "He's sinkin' fast, big brother, and this time he ain't comin' up for air!"
Aulers hissed at him to shut up and Lehmann changed the laugh to a periodic snort.
"You're going to have to help us out here, Code. Doc needs to know where you hurt." Jack bent close to Cody, ignoring Lehmann and Aulers.
"Everywhere!" Cody moaned, teeth clenched. Sweat covered his face. He looked at Jack, eyes wild with pain and fear. Cody's back arched suddenly and then he doubled forward. Jack grabbed him and held him tightly, not knowing what else to do for him. After a minute the pain passed, and Cody collapsed onto the bed. He gasped in air, as if deprived for far too long.
"Hey, kid." Jack wiped Cody's face with his hand, shoving sweat soaked hair out of his eyes. "Still with me?"
"What'd he do?" Cody's eyes looked like hollow sockets, midnight black.
"Nothing we can't figure out." Heart racing, Jack felt less certain than he sounded. "You'll be dancing by dawn."
"Didn't bring ... the right shoes," Cody whispered.
Jack swallowed and took a slow breath. "Couldn't dance if you did. Shoes don't make the man."
"Pam talked ... too much."
Dr. Kitman looked over her patient to the man facing the far wall. "Tell me everything you know about this toxin."
"Me?" Lehmann shifted from one foot to the other. He scratched the side of his butt with his cuffed hands. "Nah ... I don't think so, ma'am. If I start talkin' too much, you told Frank there to shoot me, 'member? I'd hate to be under your care. No offense, ma'am."
"There's some toxin left in this syringe, and I'm not sure I'm above using it on you at this point."
Lehmann stiffened and hesitated. Aulers raised his eyebrows but otherwise his expression did not change.
"I mean it," the dark-haired woman warned, although she knew she did not.
"Use it on me," Lehmann challenged. "You won't get nothin' that'll help him. Ain't enough there gonna do nothin' much to me, and it ain't gonna keep him alive."
"Who developed the compound?" Aulers asked.
Lehmann looked over his shoulder at the agent, smiling. "I told you. I did."
"No offense, blondie, but you don't look like you have the intelligence to mix a martini."
"Give somebody a drawl an' a clear understandin' of what you race-mixers are all about, an' all the sudden you decide he's stupid."
"Race-mixers?" The doctor glanced up at the giant. "My mother is Hispanic. What does that make me?"
Lehmann turned his upper body to spit at her. "Inferior."
Before Aulers or Kitman could respond, a team of agents arrived to escort Lehmann away. Jack barely noticed.
Aulers laid a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find out what this is, Jack. We've made our toxicology lab available and we're the best. And, when we're not the best, we figure out who is, and get in touch with them. We will figure this out."
Jack nodded shortly, his thoughts too jumbled to comment. Too much had happened, way too fast. He wiped Cody's forehead with a damp cloth, never taking his eyes from his face.
Another attack hit Cody nine minutes after the first passed. Anguish tore from his throat in frenzied screams. Convulsions hit, one after the other, reminding Jack of the previous afternoon, crash cart sending massive charges of electricity through Cody's body. Except this would not end with Kitman looking in wonder, placing paddles to one side. This was death.
As the episode subsided, Dr. Kitman returned with two new doctors in tow. One, Jack recognized from the day before in the emergency room. He'd been called down to them to give a neurology consult. The other was a stranger. As the three scanned the machines monitoring Cody's vitals, Jack's frustration and anger erupted, targeting the team. "Do something!" he yelled.
The neurologist looked at him. "If I do the wrong thing I could make it worse than--"
"Than what?" Jack roared. "Than this? Are you crazy, or haven't you been paying attention?"
The neurologist bristled. He was balding, thick chested and hook-nosed. "We have the top chemists in the country working on this. The FBI lab is working on this. What else, exactly, do you suggest I do?"
"You're doctors!" Jack barked, his rage stealing control.
Staring steadily into Jack's dark eyes, the trauma doctor nodded. "That's right, Jack," she said quietly. "I'm a doctor. Not God, just a doctor. We have to be careful that we do the right thing--not just something." She knelt beside him. "Jack, we are trying."
Hook-Nose interrupted, "This isn't your case, Dr. Kitman. You're here as a courtesy."
She stood, turned to face him and squared her shoulders. "And I'm trying to be courteous. To you, Neil. You asked me to come and deal with the family. That's exactly what I'm doing. I have another five minutes before I have to be back downstairs. If you want my help, you need to shut up."
Neil the neurologist. That has to bite. He thought about how much Cody would like that. He hoped he could tell him later.
I prefer a critical review to nice words, but I'll take either. :)
I now this is a long chapter. I appreciate you reading.
Blessings.
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and 2 member cents. I now this is a long chapter. I appreciate you reading.
Blessings.
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