Part 21 (1/2)
No, wait. It was a voice. She could barely make it out. Quiet and m.u.f.fled, the words didn't make sense as they came through a wind tunnel.
”She's gone.”
Her muscles were stiff. Her arms frozen at her sides. There was no willing them to move. Another flash of light and this time it came with a flash of color, blue and a blur of orange.
”No pulse.”
She was too tired to ask what the voices meant. She couldn't ask if she wanted to. She had no control of her body. It seemed gone, stolen out from under her. She couldn't feel it or see it.
”She's gone” came the words again, and this time that alarm in the back of her brain said, ”They mean you! They're talking about you.”
But no. She wasn't gone. She needed to tell them.
”No pulse.”
No, wait, she wanted to yell but couldn't because she was floating off in the distance and had no command of her body. They needed to listen to her chest. They wouldn't be able to get a pulse at her wrist. Her heartbeat had slowed down. It was a faint murmur, but it was beating. She could feel it.
”No dilation.”
Please, wait. Why couldn't she see them? If they were looking into her eyes, why couldn't she see? The flashes of light. That had to be what it was. Her eyes wouldn't respond. But she was still here. How could she let them know she was still alive?
”She's gone.”
No, no, no. Her brain seemed to be screaming it, but it was no use. They believed she was dead. She couldn't see beyond the black. She couldn't make her muscles respond. Her brain seemed to be screaming it, but it was no use. They believed she was dead. She couldn't see beyond the black. She couldn't make her muscles respond.
No, wait. Maybe she was dead.
Wasn't this what dead felt like? A faint consciousness with no control over her body. No body to control.
Oh, G.o.d! Maybe they were right. Maybe she was gone. Gone forever. She felt herself slipping again. She'd close her eyes and sleep some more. Or were they already closed? She slept and woke again when she heard something. Nothing. More sleep. What felt like hours. A warm darkness slipped in tight around her. Liquid warmth ran through her veins. And she felt herself leaving again. Yes, maybe this was what it felt like. No second chances. No warnings. Gone.
Then suddenly she thought she saw...no, it couldn't be. Through a blur of gray haze she saw her father and then she knew it was true. She really was dead.
CHAPTER 71.
”Maggie?”
It hurt to open her eyes. The light blinded her. The images swirled above her head. The humming of equipment filled her ears. And her mouth tasted like rubber and cotton. She tried to focus on the voice and where it was coming from. If it was real. Then she felt someone squeeze her hand.
”Maggie? You have to come back or I'll never forgive you.”
”Gwen?” It hurt to talk, but at least she could. She tried again. ”Where am I?”
”You scared us, O'Dell.”
She turned her head to look up at Tully standing on the other side of the bed. Just the slight turn made her dizzy.
”What happened? Where am I?”
”You're at Yale-New Haven Medical Center,” Gwen told her. ”You suffered a severe case of hypothermia.”
”They had to drain all your blood out of you, O'Dell, warm it up and pump it back in. So you can't complain about being cold-blooded, okay?”
”Very funny.” Gwen shot him a look.
”What, we're not allowed to make jokes?”
”You really did have us scared, Maggie,” Gwen said, caressing her forehead with the warm palm of her hand.
”What happened?”
”Look, Maggie, you're going to have amnesia and probably not remember everything that happened. We can go through it later when you're stronger, okay?”
”But how long have I been gone?”
”You've been out of it since Thursday.”
”What day is it?”
”It's Sat.u.r.day evening, sweetie.” Gwen was still holding her hand and smoothing back her hair.
”What about Simon Shelby?”
”That she remembers. Always on duty, aren't you, O'Dell?” Tully smiled. ”Maryland State Patrol caught him last night. We're not sure where he was headed. He actually had taken some of his specimens with him in the trunk.”
”Specimens?” Maggie asked, trying to fight through the annoying haze.
”We were right,” Tully said. ”He was cutting out deformed livers, tumored brains, diseased hearts, crippled bones. Meriden's police lab thinks they may have already matched a pair of eyes to that reporter. They're running DNA tests on some of the other pieces. They'll probably be able to match some of them to the bodies in the rock quarry. You should have seen his work shed, O'Dell. Shelves and shelves of jars and containers. It's hard to tell how many victims or how long he's been doing this. And he's not talking. In fact, it looks like he might end up in a padded cell somewhere.”
”My guess is it started five years ago,” Gwen said, ”when his mother died. I talked to a nurse at the local hospital. She remembered Simon Shelby and his mother, Sophie. This nurse told me she even felt sorry for him. The mother was constantly bringing him into the emergency room in the middle of the night. He always complained of terrible stomach cramps, but tests never showed anything out of the ordinary. His mother may have been poisoning him, just like he was poisoning Joan Begley.”
”Is she okay?” Maggie asked. ”Is she alive?”
”She's alive and she's going to be okay,” Gwen said. ”She's up at MidState Medical Center in Meriden. It looks like Shelby was giving her low doses of a.r.s.enic. She has a long recovery ahead of her, but they think she'll be okay.”
”I thought I died,” Maggie confessed. That much she could remember.
”So did the two men who found you,” Gwen told her, moving in closer against the bed railing. ”Luc Racine told me that he was sure you were dead. They couldn't get a pulse. Your eyes wouldn't respond to light. But he said Professor Bonzado wouldn't give up on you. You're really lucky he didn't, Maggie. Hypothermia can easily disguise itself.”