by JJ Liniger
Opening the door, a pungent antiseptic smell consumed me. Beats from his heart monitor and the swoosh from his ventilator continued. Skin clung to his bones and his bald head rested against the pillows. No change from the last time I saw him.
I wanted to talk to him and ask his help to figure out this mess. Instead, I hopped down the hall, opening each door. Most rooms were either completely empty or housed office equipment. The Executive Assistant office had a functional desk with a large desktop computer. I flicked the light switch and my eyes ached from the brightness.
Hobbling over to the desk, I followed the cords to make sure it remained plugged in correctly and then powered it up. I blew over the keyboard and dust billowed in my face, making me cough. The computer moaned as it came back to life. Windows Server 2008 flashed across the screen. Hopefully, that would be current enough to have the needed software to open the saved file.
I placed the flash drive into the port. It detected the file and opened it. The bar slowly filled, the older equipment trying my patience. My fingers strummed against the keyboard.
Finally, the document opened. Bank statements had been scanned in and saved like pictures. I magnified the pages to read the fine print describing each transaction. Deposits came directly from the hospital on a biweekly basis and appeared much like employee paycheck. Withdrawals to Curner Meltrum were for an antidepressant, Zoloft, pain reliever Codeine, and Coumadin used to thin blood. I hoped Dr. Worrell and Dr. Easton knew what they were doing, because the combination of these drugs created a dangerous possibility. The other withdrawal was to Puritan, an online vitamin supplier. It didn’t itemize specific purchases, but did have a free service number on the statement.
In the desk drawer, I found paper and a pencil and wrote down the dates and amounts of each statement. My eyes blurred after the first three years of statements, but I didn’t stop until I finished all five years.
My body protested each movement. Maybe Mother had pain pills I could take to get me through the night. What would the hospital do once they realized I wasn’t there anymore? Tiffany said we were hiding from everyone, therefore I’d assumed video surveillance would reveal her helping me escape.
How quickly would they show the footage to Alex? Fast. Would she be in danger if Alex knew she helped me?
I hoped my friend hadn’t gone completely off the deep end, but whatever he was doing, he chose not to save the life of his father-in-law. Understanding his motive was more than I could fathom at the moment unless it was only about money. After looking at the figures, he had taken in a substantial amount, but had also spent thousands on the medication and supplements.
“Urgh, stupid leg.”
I needed to take something to make the pain stop. I folded my notes and put them in my pocket. Then I saved the file to that computer and took the flash drive with me. Placing the crutches under my arms, my pits protested immediately. They had been rubbed raw from rapid movement.
Carefully, I hobbled back to my dad’s room. His heart rate monitor and ventilator continued to do their thing as I looked through drawers next to Mother’s bed. I had discovered aspirin when she had her heart attack, but now it was out of sight. Dr. Worrell had come to check on my father, maybe she had moved the pills.
Next to the breathing machine, Mother stored her cold and allergy prescriptions. One of them contained acetaminophen which would relieve most of my pain. I grabbed a bottled water from the tiny refrigerator and swallowed the pills. Sitting on the empty bed, I pulled the financial paper from my pocket. Some months showed a withdrawal of a few hundred dollars while others close to two thousand. After a large withdrawal, there would also be a spike in deposits.
Considering money was the motive why not purchase the same large quantity?
If the medication came after a boost in income, it would be used to help them, but that wasn’t the case. What if it was making them sick?
Looking at Dad in the bed across from me, I wanted to bounce ideas off of him. He had a natural ability to see the big picture and the path to get there. I needed to get back into the research lab and check the dates of new patients with the financial records to prove a correlation.
It seemed unlikely to get lucky enough for somebody to walk out and let me in. Dr. Easton didn’t want me near the place. Dr. Worrell might. Leaving the crutches against the bed, I wobbled to the phone resting next to the door. I had used it once before to call the doc to find out about my dad. The clock told me it was close to midnight, and I’d awaken her. Was this an emergency?
Maybe not, but night would be the easiest time to find the answers Alex didn’t want me to have. Punching in the speed dial for the doctor, I waited for her to answer.
“Dr. Worrell, I’m sorry for waking you. It’s Trevor.”
“What do ya want?” She yawned into the phone.
“I may know what’s poisoning these people and how to stop it.”
“Trevor, it ain’t that easy. Carole, Alex, a bunch of docs and I’ve been workin’ on this for years.”
“I know.”
“Leave it alone.” Her Texan accent drew out each word longer in her sleepy state.
“Get me back into the research lab. If what I think is true is wrong, then I’ll stop and do whatever you want.” Silence hung between us and I thought she wasn’t going to answer.
“Meet me in the staff parking lot at the hospital.”
“Alright. Bye.”
My body still ached, so I grabbed a couple of Mother’s pills and swallowed them. Afterwards, I lunged for the crutches and grabbed my notes, stuffing it in my pocket before hobbling back to the stolen truck. It felt awkward using my left foot, and I drove slower than I wanted to. I parked next to the same vehicle Dr. Worrell had driven to the town hall. I stumbled from the truck.
“What are ya doin’ in Walter Buck’s truck?” she asked.
“I had to borrow it.” I shrugged.
The cool night air made me feel alert as I struggled to keep up with Dr. Worrell. For an older woman, she had energy and strength I admired. I noticed it the first night I met her.
Dr. Worrell walked directly to the research lab, not pausing to look for anyone who might see us. She also never asked me how or why I had been released from the hospital. She either already knew the answer or didn’t care. Her fingers flew over the keypad, making it impossible to see the numbers being pressed. The door opened.
“Did you know Mother’s code didn’t work yesterday?”
“Nope. How’d ya get in?”
“The pretty new doctor let us in on her way out.”
She nodded. “What’s this theory ya got?”
“I found a bank account that showed purchases of Zoloft, Codeine, Coumadin, and vitamin supplements in large doses.”
Her face turned into a frown and her eyebrows narrowed. I wasn’t sure if I should admit Alex’s involvement. It’d help if I knew for sure her loyalty was to me, but that seemed unlikely. If it were my parents, I knew she’d have their back no matter what.
I continued. “Somebody’s causing the poison.”
“Yeah,” she said, like it was common knowledge.
“You knew it?” Dang.
How many people did Alex have working for him? He had Dr. Easton and maybe the new doctor. I didn’t think Dr. Worrell would be influenced by money because she enjoyed helping people, often trading services for goods if the patient couldn’t pay her.
“I thought Carole would of told ya. It’s your kid.”
I’d forgotten that crazy theory. “No, something different.”
I paused and shook my head, trying to think of evidence she could see for herself. We moved past the small rooms with the dry erase boards. Outside each room posted a year. I pulled the financial paper from my pocket and came to the one with the first year on the paper.
Dr. Worrell read along, but remained quiet. It surprised me that she didn’t ask many questions. Maybe it was because for the second time I had dragged her from her hom
e at night. She stood straight and her eyes appeared alert and ready.
“Help me find information on July of this year,” I said, pointing to the date on the financial record.
“We brought in Jessica Barns and tested her sister Abigail, but only Jessica came up positive.” She rolled the board for Jessica forward so I could read it.
“They treated her with chemotherapy,” I said.
“Yep, that be our main treatment.”
“When did you isolate Samuel from the community and keep him Down Under?”
“The year before this.”
“Then why are people still sick? Nicholas was Taken a couple days ago and Mother told me she’s sick. If Samuel’s the poison, and he’s been contained for five years, then people shouldn’t still be getting sick.”
“Don’t ya think I know that?” She planted her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed. “Every dern day I come here and read each one of these stupid boards tryin’ to figure out what we’ve missed! Nothin’ makes sense.”
“It can. Hold this.” I handed her the paper and used the crutches to hobble to the research lab.
I groaned from my tired muscles. As we entered, the lights came on automatically. Plopping down on a stool, I rolled it to a small table.
“Is it a fair assumption that you have the boards memorized?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“We’re here tonight because these drugs and vitamins are being used together to make people sick. Take Zoloft, Codeine, and then mix it with Vitamin K and you have a person who can barely think straight. Then once they’re here with chemo treatment and antioxidants together, the therapy becomes basically useless. Right?”
“But, I won’t let that happen. I ain’t stupid.”
“Of course you’re not,” I replied. Though if she’d speak in proper English it would support her case. “I haven’t figured out how the medication gets to the people. Something has to happen to them first for them to be Taken and then once they’re here I believe it goes back to the blood work. Have you tested what’s sent back from Curner Meltrum?”
“Nope. Dr. Easton handles the blood.”
“Have you tried to do it yourself?”
“Yes, he gets antsy, until I leave it alone.”
“Right now, while no one else is down here, let’s test it and find out.”
I rested my injured foot on the metal rod on the stool and kicked the floor to roll to the refrigerator where the blood was stored. Dr. Worrell opened the door and removed the pouch.
“What did the doc do with my blood he tested?”
“He done it, ‘cause I watched him do it.”
“Where are the results?”
“I added it to The Boy’s boards.” She gestured to the dozens of boards stacked together against the wall.
“All of them?”
“Yep. Poor kid. He’s the toughest little guy I ever saw.”
It made me proud to know my son was strong though I hadn’t done anything to make him that way.
“Is my blood compatible like Samuel’s?”
“You have the same blood type, but not the cure element that HE has.”
“What is that?” I asked. “And how did you discover it?”
“Dr. Easton found it. It be what he’s good at.”
“Discovered it? Or made it up?”
“Don’t know,” she replied.
“Let’s find out.”
Dr. Worrell hooked the pouch to an IV stand and a long thin tube to the end of the pouch.
“Is that how you administer it to the patients?” I asked.
“We mix it with The Boy’s blood with the machines in yonder. It takes about 30 minutes, so they lay on them beds.”
The blood dripped through the long tube and she poured them into ten sealed vials. Her precise movements gave no doubt she could run tests through these machines in her sleep without spilling a drop. With a swoosh, the machine sucked the filled vials in and spun rapidly. While the machine did its magic, she filled ten more vials.
The aches and pains over my body had dulled, but my head felt heavy and I rubbed the back of my neck to relieve the tension. The muscle remained soft and wasn’t tight.
“What are…” I stared at Dr. Worrell unable to remember the question I wanted to ask.
“That machine there will separate the chemical compounds and see the specific blood type and amino acids, blood cell counts, and all that good stuff.”
I nodded. It seemed like a good question for her to answer and I pretended it was the one I was about to ask.
“And with these here.” She gestured the second set of vials. “I’ll add chemicals to ‘em, and in a few minutes will see how they react. Science sure is fun.” She grinned and I could see she enjoyed figuring things out. It’s what made her a good doctor.
What gave Alex the ability to know what drugs he needed to mix together to create specific symptoms?
I tried to think, but couldn’t. Maybe the stress of the past several days had finally become too much for my body to handle. It reminded me of how my mother responded. At times she seemed brilliant with the ability to look at all this medical information and process it in a way that would lead to a solution. Other times she confused me with my father and didn’t know the year.
I rubbed my eyes and took a slow deep breath. My chest tightened, and I coughed, my breathing labored.
“You not lookin’ so good,” Dr. Worrell said.
“Feels about right. I took my mom’s allergy meds.”
“Good grief, boy! Don’t ya know not to take somebody’s prescriptions.”
I shook my head. “Something’s wrong with them. I can feel it.”
“She orders ‘em through the hospital and they’re delivered straight to the lab for her to pick up.”
From a drawer, Dr. Worrell brought out a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. She rolled the machine to me. After she listened to my heart, the machine tried to squeeze my arm off.
“Your pulse is racin’. Calm down.”
“It’s not me, I feel relaxed.” I rubbed my eyes. “Too much so, I can’t think straight.”
“Does your body ache?” she asked.
“No. That’s why I took the meds. My muscles were tired from hopping on one foot and my arms from using the crutches Now, I don’t feel a thing.”
“Maybe you be right, and somebody mixed up Carole’s meds.”
“On purpose,” I insisted.
Dr. Worrell shook her head, but didn’t speak. It must’ve been difficult to discover
someone had been actively working against her efforts to solve the medical crisis in Becton.
I cradled my head in my hands and closed my eyes. The spacey feeling intensified with each thought I attempted. My body wanted me to rest, but I had to figure this out before morning. Mother would be Taken, and I didn’t know how to get her back out.
“I’m headin’ to Carole’s place and I’ll grab her meds for testin’. See what’s goin’ on.”
“Wait, before you do. I want you…” I groaned, once again forgetting what I planned to ask her. I had handed her the paper. It reminded me. “Look at these numbers. Tell me if the dates line up with a new person being Taken.”
I rolled the stool to the small table she used to fill the vials and spread out the paper. I plopped my elbow on the cold surface and rested my head against my palm. I couldn’t imagine starting my day by reading the charts of each patient and feeling the pressure of needing to stop the impossible. At least she wasn’t being blamed for it the same way Samuel, Monica, and I were.
Her fingers hovered over the paper as she read the dates. She grabbed a dry erase marker and circled seven of the months. Each of them had large purchases of the medication and also large deposits. Next to her circle, she wrote the names of the patients, which included Tiffany’s father and another patient, Jeffery Beasley.
The names and numbers blurred together and my breathing slowed. I needed help.
&nbs
p; “Doc,” I whispered. My tongue felt heavy.
“It’ll take about ten minutes for them numbers to get in place from the blood work. I’m gettin’ those pills.”
Her words echoed like speaking into a cave and the room spun. My elbow slipped from the table. Before I hit the floor, all went black.
CHAPTER 24
EVIDENCE
“Trevor!” Dr. Worrell’s voice echoed in my mind as her hands shook my shoulder.
I felt a rubber pad against my legs and arms as I laid back. My breaths came and exited with great effort. As I blinked rapidly, I found myself surrounded by multiple twin size beds and with the blood transfusion machine attached to my arm.
I’m being poisoned!
I jerked my arms. The machine secured one and Dr. Worrell pinned down my other arm. I had gone to the wrong person for help. I should’ve waited until morning and worked with Tiffany to present our evidence to proper authority. Instead, I’d become inflected and would be Taken with Mother.
“Why?” I mumbled.
“You’d been drugged. I’m removin’ your blood and replacin’ it with The Boy’s. You be feelin’ better soon.”
“What?” I drew a labored breath to focus.
“You passed out. Luckily, I got ya before ya fell to the ground. Rolled the stool in here and shifted ya to the bed. I didn’t know what ya had taken, so I thought it best to get it out.”
I nodded.
She let go of my arm and I looked around at the white walls and then at the machine cycling my blood out and Samuel’s in. On the far side sat white metal doors.
“Could I have died?” I asked.
“Unlikely, but better safe than sorry.”
“What did I take?”
“You be out cold, so I drove to the Town Hall and got your mom’s pills. Them allergy pills were dipped in liquid codeine. It made your pain go away, but feel spacy.”
I sat up straight. My head felt clear and my vision returned to normal. “How long was I asleep?”
“Over an hour. It gave me time to finish runnin’ the test and even have coffee. You’re right. I looked at these dates and numbers on that paper. Every one of ‘em is when somebody was Taken and their symptoms could be caused by the drug and vitamin combo.”