Feeling a little discouraged, I continued to walk as quickly as I could. I knew I had lost him when he began to walk down the stairs. My hands fists at my sides, I walked even faster. By the time I got to the stairs, he had basically disappeared.
I thought about turning back. I probably should have.
But I had come so far and I just wanted two minutes of his time. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until I was going down the stairs and panting, trying my best to catch my breath.
I would have called out to him again, but there was no point. I knew he wouldn’t turn back around.
Finally, after what felt like forever, I was on the bottom floor, scanning it for traces of him.
“Dr. Arnaud, please—”
He turned around and I could see the fury, ablaze in his eyes. “Ms. Quinn,” he said. “I would appreciate it if you could keep your distance from me. I’m not in the habit of dealing with disrespectful people, and I assume you have read the news at some point. Making a mockery out of others’ pain is disgraceful, and should, in my opinion, be outlaw—”
He was interrupted by a terribly loud thud behind him. I looked behind him and he turned around to investigate.
It took me a few seconds to understand what I was seeing. One of the museum workers, dressed in the red shirt and black slacks uniform, was on the ground.
Seizing.
Her entire body was shaking, her eyes were rolled to the back of her head, and her fingers were curled and they looked like they were scraping the stone floor under her.
“You,” Dr. Arnaud said, turning to me for just a second. “Call 911.”
I took my phone out of my pocket and spoke into it. “Call 911,” I said.
“Calling 911,” my phone’s automated voice replied. I watched as it made an attempt to place the call, but it dropped before I could connect. I was surprised. I thought emergency services would connect even if I wasn’t in a service area, but I had never tested that theory.
I ran to Dr. Arnaud, who was leaning next to the employee. “It’s not working,” I said. “Give me your phone.”
He nodded. I grabbed it and stuck it in front of his face so it would unlock with the face recognition feature. I noticed that he was talking to the employee who was on the floor, but I didn’t know what he was saying.
I typed in the numbers that time, but it also didn’t connect.
“Dr. Arnaud! That also didn’t work.”
I watched him swear under his breath. “We need to get her to a hospital,” he said, then leaned down and undid the top buttons of her blouse. He was focused, and he seemed stressed, but I could tell he was trying his best to remain calm. “Even if this isn’t her first-time seizing, I don’t like the idea of her being here for it. Something is happening in this castle and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”
“Okay,” I said. “What can I do?”
“Just—”
“Lily,” a croaky, low voice said. I paled as I realized it was coming from the patient who was on the floor. The weirdest part—the part that sent a shiver down my spine—was the fact that she hadn’t stopped seizing. Her body was still convulsing, and there was foam coming out of her mouth, but she was talking.
She was saying my name, but she hadn’t stopped seizing. She hadn’t stopped moving, and it felt like she wasn’t going to stop moving, against her will, her body spasming in ways that I didn’t even know was possible.
Her arm moved up, as if it belonged to someone else, and she practically touched me. I jumped back. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I was on my ass, practically crawling away from her.
Then she stopped. Suddenly, abruptly, as if nothing had happened.
I noticed that there were people surrounding us. Watching.
Waiting.
But all I could think about was my name on her lips. The way it had sounded. It made my blood run cold.
“I need help,” Dr. Arnaud said. He placed his hands under her and lifted her up and suddenly she stopped moving, turning her head to the side in an uncanny, inhuman motion.
“Okay…”
“Take her personal effects to the car with me,” he said. “There’s a bunch of things on the floor that I took from her person, including her phone. See if you can find an emergency contact in it. Usually, there’s an ICE next to a spouse or something.”
“Yes,” I said, then turned to face one of the employees watching us. “You. Get Dr. Overstreet. Tell her we’re going to the hospital. Which one is the nearest one?”
“Mercy,” he replied. “Ten minutes south. Just take a left, the road will take you there. I’ll go get Dr. Overstreet now.”
“Thank you,” I said, then turned back to look at Dr. Arnaud and the woman in his arms with all of her belongings bunched up in my hands.
“C’mon,” he said. “You’re driving. I’ll stay with her in the back. Where’s your car?”
I held the door open for him then pointed at the white SUV still parked next to the handicap spot. We both ran to it, and soon, we were on the way to the hospital, all while I wondered what the hell I had gotten myself into.
CHAPTER FIVE
ELIAS
2019
She was driving fast, there was no doubt about it.
I put my sweater under Abigail’s head on the backseat and sat next to her, her legs over my own. She wasn’t seizing anymore, but I needed to know how disoriented she was when she came to. I looked at my watch.
The seizure had lasted three minutes.
It had felt like forever.
It always did. Whenever there was a medical emergency, it felt like the air was sucked out of the room and the world slowed down completely. It was one of the reasons I was never interested in urgent care. I didn’t have the disposition for it. Some of my colleagues, the ones who could keep more calm than I could under pressure, were amazing ER doctors. Not me.
I just wanted to work in epidemiology. Looking at pathology reports, checking for patterns. That was my strength, and I liked to believe, it played a part in saving lives. It was important.
It didn’t feel important then with another patient being a potential victim of this place and me having absolutely no idea what had caused it.
“Thank you for driving us,” I said. “Did you find the contact information?”
“I couldn’t unlock it. It’s in the middle here, if you want the phone.”
I reached over and grabbed it. I was about to use Abigail’s fingerprint to move and try to unlock the phone, but her eyes fluttered open and I looked at her, my heart in my throat.
“Abigail,” I said. “I’m Dr. Arnaud.”
“Dr… yes,” she said, then looked around and tried to sit up.
“Easy,” I said. “You’re in the car. We’re taking you to the hospital.”
“Everything hurts,” she said, her voice croaky. “Why does everything hurt?”
“You fainted,” I replied. “We’re going to the hospital. They’re going to do some tests on you to make sure that you’re okay.”
“Wait. I had a seizure? Like Natalie, like Rudy?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that you were there, and suddenly you weren’t. Do you have a history of seizures? A seizure disorder?”
“No,” she replied, sitting up and swallowing. “God, I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“We’ll be at the hospital soon,” I said. I noticed that Lily sped up a little bit when I said that. I couldn’t help but smile. “Are you pregnant or do you have any pre-existing health conditions?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Not as far as I know. The pregnant thing, I mean, I don’t have any pre-existing conditions.”
She swung her legs and sat up straight, leaning against the headrest.
“Okay,” I said. “That’s good. Is there anyone you would like us to call?”
She thought about it for a second. “No,” she said. “Not until I get seen by a doctor. I don’t want anyone to worry. After what happened
with Natalie, I…”
“Don’t worry,” Lily said from the front seat. “Dr. Arnaud is here, and the hospital will try to make you feel better.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but Abigail interrupted me before I could. “I need to go back to work.”
“Let’s just wait to see what the doctor says first,” I said. “Okay?”
She looked me up and down then nodded. She didn’t seem too happy. I wanted to convince her that this was the best idea, that it was better if she didn’t go back to work. I didn’t think she wanted to hear it.
There was no time to talk. We arrived at the hospital and my phone began to vibrate in my pocket.
Over, and over, and over again.
“I’ll find a place to park, Dr. Arnaud,” Lily said from the driver seat. “You take her inside.”
“Okay,” I said.
I ignored my phone and walked with Abigail into the emergency room. I spoke to the staff, only vaguely aware that Lily was outside.
When Abigail was taken back, I finally looked down at my phone.
The calls were from Dr. Andy Pepine, an epidemiologist who worked at the hospital I was currently visiting and had taken an interest in the case. He had left a few voicemails, none of them specific enough. All the information I managed to extract when I listened to them was that I needed to call him back immediately.
He answered after the second ring. I paced around outside, in front of the emergency room entrance, vaguely aware that I should probably be waiting for Lily, even though I didn’t want to be.
“Elias!” he said. “I was worried you weren’t getting my calls.”
“I wasn’t,” I replied. “There’s no reception at Thornbridge. Not even outside.”
“That’s not ideal,” he said. “Where are you now?”
“I’m at Mercy,” I said. “I had to bring a patient in because she was seizing.”
The line went silent.
“Another one,” I said, answering his unasked question.
“I can take a break in ten minutes,” he said. “Can you meet me in the cafeteria then? Second floor.”
“Sure. See you then.”
I hung up the phone, my mouth dry, then saw Lily come toward me. She looked like she was going to throw up.
“Where is she?” She asked.
“She’s being seen by a doctor now,” I said. “Do you need to go in, too?”
Lily closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m fine. Hospitals just make me feel sick.”
“Okay. Well, I suddenly have a meeting, and I don’t have a ride back. So if you wouldn’t mind waiting around, I would appreciate it. It’s not like I can call anyone to come pick me up and I expect taxi service out here is rather spotty,” I said. “Plus, she was asking for you.”
She looked at me. Her skin looked really pale. I might’ve been concerned. If I wasn’t so angry. “I don’t know if I can stay here. I can come pick you up.”
“You don’t know when you’ll have to pick me up. And you don’t know when she’ll be out of the ER,” I said. “I would much prefer it if you stayed.”
I had no right to ask her. This woman, I barely knew her. I couldn’t just demand things from her. But I was so angry at what she had said still, it felt like this was the only way she could make up for it. It felt like it was her responsibility.
“I get it. I made you angry. You are doing this to punish me. You don’t get to do that. You know me, and I understand, and I wanted to apologize to you, because I clearly made you uncomfortable. I clearly hurt you,” she said. “But you’re not my father, and you don’t get to modify my behavior. I didn’t mean to, for what it’s worth. It’s not on purpose. It never is.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that I hadn’t meant it like that, but it suddenly felt like all the air was sucked out of my lungs.
“I am staying. But I want to make it clear, I’m not staying because of you. I’m staying in spite of you.”
When she said that, she turned around and began to walk away. She was walking towards the reception area, probably to tell them that she was with the woman from Thornbridge Keep who had come in with the seizure.
I sighed. She was right, and she hadn’t deserved that. I was still angry at what she had said, I thought it was cruel and callous, but she saw right through my intentions, and I felt small.
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t the time to worry about my own emotional well-being. It wasn’t the time to worry about me at all. I needed to focus on the patients, the victims of Thornbridge Keep.
I made my way upstairs. I sat down in one of the booths in the back, waiting for Andy. He arrived, looking harried. He smiled at me. “Didn’t think I would be running into you here.”
“Neither did I.”
“You had lunch yet? The bowls they do here are to die for,” he said, then got serious for a second and rolled his eyes. “I need to stop saying that. I don’t think it’ll go over as well with any patients.”
I chuckled under my breath. “Right,” I said. “I’m not hungry. You were trying to get in touch?”
“I spoke to the ME,” he said. “There is something about all these patients rubbing me the wrong way. They finally got the results back from Natalie Grossman’s autopsy, and her death was definitely a sudden cardiac death.”
“Was she a—”
“No,” Andy said. “She was perfectly healthy and had no pre-existing cardiac problems.”
“So what do you think it was?”
“Ventricular fibrillation. It’s the only thing that fits.”
I shook my head. “Fine,” I said. “I understand that, I guess. But what about the seizures? The sudden sickness before she died? That’s the part that I’m struggling to wrap my head around. The most likely explanation is sodium, but…”
“Right. It makes no sense for her to have had increased levels of sodium for the week before ventricular fibrillation.”
“Unless it happened twice,” I said.
Andy nodded, his eyes narrow. “But the risk seems low,” he said. “A young, active woman in good health.”
“Family history?”
“No family,” Andy said, shrugging his shoulders. “The closest thing to next of kin they could find was a live-in boyfriend.”
“Rough.”
“Yes,” he said. “A tragedy.”
I nodded. It never got easier.
“We have another patient here,” he said. “A man, early fifties. Also came from Thornbridge. He’s hypernatremic. Gave him fluids, but the levels didn’t go down much.”
“You think it’s an endocrine issue?”
“No,” Andy said, licking his lips. “I think it’s environmental. I wouldn’t, but then I went back to look at the records of every Thornbridge employee Mercy has admitted. They all suffer from hypernatremia. Levels ranging from 115 to 130.”
“That’s… very weird,” I said. “Did the patient respond to the treatment?”
“Yes. He wanted to get back to work immediately.”
I blinked.
“We sent him home.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “There are water fountains everywhere around the castle. I saw several of the employees drinking water while giving tours. There is no limited access to water.”
“Did anyone tell you they were thirsty?”
I furrowed my brow. “Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t ask. It didn’t look like they were…”
“Might be worth asking,” he said. “Are you staying there?”
“Yes. Just for a few days. Trying to figure out the source.”
“Risky. And commendable. But please, Elias, be careful. An epidemiologist of your standing… we need you around.”
“That’s very flattering,” I said, smiling at him. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find any news. I’ll probably swing by the hospital every day, just so I’m able to give you a call.”
He cocked his head.
“This is the closest place wher
e I get signal,” I said.
“Right.”
“The new patient, she’s in the ER still. Her name is Abigail… actually, I don’t know her last name, but I’ll let you know,” I said. “I’ll see if she wants to share her medical records.”
“She can’t go back to Thornbridge,” Andy said. “None of these people can.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I know. I couldn’t agree more. I’ll come back and visit tomorrow. Are you on shift then?”
“Yes,” he said. “If you come back at one, we can try to have lunch.”
I smiled. “One of those famous bowls, huh?”
“Yeah. One of those.”
We said good-bye and I made my way downstairs.
I was surprised to see that Lily wasn’t sitting in the waiting room of the ER. I stepped outside and saw her, sitting on a bench and looking even paler than she had inside. She wasn’t playing around on her phone or anything. Her hands were in the pockets of her black denim jacket and her head was tilted up, her eyes closed.
She was breathing deeply.
“Hey,” I said from far away. I didn’t want to startle her.
Her eyes fluttered open and she set her gaze on me. “Dr. Arnaud.”
“Would you mind if I sit next to you?”
She shook her head noncommittally.
“Are you okay?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Abigail is fine,” she said. “They did some tests. She wants to go back to work, but the doctors aren’t loving that idea.”
“I’d rather she go home.”
She smiled, a little dryly. “You all seem to agree,” she said. “So maybe that’s the best course of action. We’ll have to convince her not to go back to work, though. She’s insistent.”
“She wants everything to get back to normal,” I said. “I guess that makes sense.”
“It won’t, will it?” Lily asked. “Not after this. The museum is going to close.”
I nodded. “It makes no sense for it to stay open when it’s effectively positioning people,” I said. “Though I can’t figure out how.”
She turned to look at me then smirked. “You will,” she said, her expression sobering. “You definitely will.”
The Healing Process Page 3