Part 11 (1/2)
Barbara sighed. She was middle-aged and matronly with reddish hair cut to the shoulders. She wore a white nurse's uniform with a blue sweater draped over her shoulders. ”We sutured his finger as best we could and got him stabilized. But he's lost some blood and is in shock.”
”Will he need an emergency blood supply?” If the kid needed blood now Rick would gladly hop onto an examining table and jab the needle in the vein himself.
”I don't think so,” Barbara said matter-of-factly. ”But Dr. Jorgensen is trying to raise Bangor General. He needs to be in a hospital.”
The rain suddenly drummed harder, and thunder boomed. KA-BOOM! Its reverberations shook the building. It was the loudest crack of thunder he'd ever heard, or felt. They both looked up for a moment as the boom faded amid the patter-patter of rain, then back at each other. ”How 'bout Janice?”
”In shock, as any mother would be,” Barbara said, her features lined with worry. ”But she'll pull through.”
Rick moved toward the door. ”I won't be long,” he said.
Barbara nodded and Rick stepped inside the room.
Janice had been wheeled into the examination room on a stretcher, and now she was resting with her eyes closed next to Bobby who lay asleep on the examination table with a blanket pulled over him. Bobby's bandaged and splintered hand was cradled close to his chest. It looked like his hand had grown gargantuan. Janice was drowsy but alert. Rick knelt down by her. He wanted her to know he was here for her, but he didn't want to appear smothering. A slight smile appeared on her face as he knelt beside her. ”You're still here?” Her voice was weak.
”Of course,” he whispered. ”I wouldn't leave you two here to fend for yourselves.”
”You're a dear,” she said. Her hand reached out, her fingers lightly brus.h.i.+ng the top of his hand. A genuine gesture. ”How are you?”
”How am I?” For a moment Rick had forgotten that he'd been hurt. ”Oh, that...” It was incredible that in light of what happened to Bobby and their scramble to get off the beach and to Dr. Jorgensen's that she would remember, much less notice, that he had been stung by one of the Clickers. ”I'm fine.”
”Good.” She settled back on the pillow, her eyes growing heavier. ”G.o.d, I'm so tired.”
”I know,” Rick said. He wasn't very tired himself. If anything, the stress had pumped up his adrenaline. But then he hadn't taken a tranquilizer either.
If there was one thing that surprised them all, it was the attack on Rick. The cuts to his leg from the creature's ma.s.sive pincer had been deep and ugly but hadn't required st.i.tches. Glen attributed that to Rick pulling away just as the creature locked its hold down on him. If he had hesitated a moment sooner and jerked his leg back, the force of the creature's hold on him would have pulled the meat off his leg the way one pulls meat off a chicken leg.
The creature's stinger had pierced the muscle of his right thigh, creating a nice three-inch deep puncture wound, almost as if he'd been stabbed by a small knife. Glen had examined him shortly after Bobby was stabilized, and dressed the wound. If the creature was venomous-and Dr. Jorgensen was pretty sure they were from the evidence Rick and Jack Ripley had been able to provide-Rick had received what the Good Doctor referred to as a ”dry sting”-when the animal bites or stings, but no venom is injected.
”It happens with rattlesnake bites quite a bit,” Dr. Jorgensen said. ”You'd be surprised.” Surprised he was. And grateful.
Luckily, in the name of science, the thing's tail had been severed when the door to the van slammed shut. The moment they hauled Rick in screaming in pain and slammed the door, Janice saw the tail. She batted toward the rear of the van while Rick clutched at his leg, eyes squeezed shut in pain, tears welling from them, wondering if he was going to die. Jack was driving like a maniac to get them to Glen's and the tail was forgotten until Glen and Barbara were helping them into the office. After Glen stabilized Rick, he got Jack to go back to the van and retrieve it. Jack had brought it to him, holding it by the tips of his fingers as if it were cancerous. Glen took it gingerly and deposited it in the back room, laying it to rest on a shelf in the freezer with the claw Rick had brought him yesterday. For future reference.
Glen was positive the thing was poisonous. But ten minutes after they had arrived at his office, Rick showed no signs that any venom had been injected into his system. There'd been no abnormal swelling, no loss of muscle coordination, no slurred speech or blurred vision, no nausea, cramps, or vomiting. And most importantly, no deterioration of the flesh that was common in the Brown Recluse Spider, and in some cases, rattlesnake bites.
”I'm going to rest for a little bit,” Janice said. ”Will you take me and Bobby home?”
”Of course.” Rick squeezed her hand. ”I'll be here.”
”Good.” Her eyes opened briefly. ”Thanks, Rick.”
Rick smiled and stood up. Janice closed her eyes again and was asleep in no time.
Back at the reception area, Glen was still trying to raise Bangor General. Barbara was sitting at her desk, looking almost defeated by the fact that there really was nothing for her to do to help the situation. What could one do with a huge storm, a disaster of possible monstrous proportions, and a downed radio?
Glen turned to Rick as he entered the reception area. ”Nothing,” he said, almost angrily. ”I can't even get anything. Nothing but static.”
”Have you tried anybody else?” Rick asked.
”I tried raising the Sheriff at the station but transmission is out everywhere. It must be this storm.” Glen sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his forearm.
”The phone lines are down, too,” Barbara said.
Great. ”What about the local radio?”
Glen reached over to a transistor radio that sat underneath the reception counter and flicked it on. Static on both AM and FM bands, all across the dial.
”Jesus Christ, we should be able to get something.” Now Rick was alarmed. He could understand the power going out, maybe even the phone lines going out in a storm, but the lines weren't down. Whatever it was, it had to do with something at the plant. If the power was affecting everybody on a wide scale it would also affect the radio station and the phone company. But wouldn't they be equipped with an emergency generator?
”Whatever is going on, it must have to do with something at the GE plant,” Glen said. He rose to his full six-foot height, shaking his head in confusion.
”Sheriff Conklin took off for the plant not long after he got here,” Rick said. ”Rusty radioed in and there seemed to be some kind of problem out there.”
”I just wonder what.” The expression on Glen's face didn't look so good. It cast a dreary pall over Barbara and Rick.
Rick tried to break it. He motioned toward the rear of the house. ”What happens with Janice and Bobby?”
”He should have gone to the hospital, which was why I was trying to raise them.” Glen lowered his voice. ”If I could I'd drive them to Bangor myself, but with the way this storm is I don't trust those roads.”
”Plus who knows what it's like outside the Phillipsport County limits,” Barbara piped in. ”It'll be best to just hole up here until this blows over.”
Glen nodded. ”Barb's right. Bobby's stabilized enough now that he can sleep off the tranquilizer and be okay when he wakes up tomorrow morning.”
”Could they both go home tonight?” Rick asked.
Glen nodded reluctantly ”If it wasn't for this storm I'd rather Bobby would have gone to Bangor General. But he's stable enough to where he can go home and recuperate nicely. If he rests, his body should be able to regenerate the blood that was lost. I can take them home myself if you'd rather go back to the beach and fetch Janice's car.”
Rick nodded. That sounded like a plan. Jack had gone back to the pier to shut down his store and try rousing somebody at the Sheriff's station-there were usually two additional men on duty beside Rusty and Roy. There was no telling when Jack would return and there was no way to call the comic shop to update him. Besides, it would be better for him to go to the beach for the car anyway. He surely didn't want the Doc to go down there in the event that those creatures were still around.
”What I'd really like to do is take a better look at that tail you brought in.” Dr. Jorgensen looked mighty interested in that. ”I gave that claw you gave me last night a good look over. Couldn't identify it for the world. It bore all the similarities of your regular garden variety crab or lobster, but it was...all wrong.”
”How so?” Rick asked. How could something that by all rights looked like a crab or lobster claw not be?
”I took a blood sample from it, ran it under a microscope, and while I'm not a marine biologist, the sample didn't match up to any of the DNA samplings I could compare to in any of my textbooks on marine life.” Glen Jorgensen shook his head in dismay. ”The white blood cells were shaped differently and there seemed to be more of them, a higher count than normally known for that species of crustacean. The DNA itself was...” Glen appeared to be groping for the right word. ”...just not right. I don't know how else to explain it.”
”Maybe we should get it to a professional,” Rick suggested.
”I'd like to. The closest University with a good marine biology department is the University of Maine in Orono, a good two hundred miles south. Maybe after this storm lets up we can pack those samples in ice and get them down there.” Glen c.o.c.ked a questioning eyebrow at Rick. ”You'll help me?”
”Of course. Just say the word. Where do you have them now?”
”Freezer in the back.”
During their talk, Barbara had slipped quietly away to check on Janice and Bobby. She came back with a more relaxed composure. ”They're both sleeping soundly,” she said.