Bone Pit: A Chilling Medical Suspense Thriller (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 3)

by Bette Golden Lamb

  Gina pulled her chair next to his. “Why would you expect it to be there? These people are the failures. They’ve been dropped from the study. I’m surprised you found anything. Besides, how do you know there was even a questionnaire like that?”

  “Tomorrow, take a look for yourself. The clinical study packet is in the computer. Not only that, there’s an index that describes each section of the packet. The final question-and-answer page is listed in there, but it doesn’t exist. At least not for my patients.”

  That could be just a glitch of some kind,” Gina said.

  “Well, I’m not finished,” Harry said. “Here’s the biggy—all the patients are listed as in remission.”

  “That can’t be true. Ethan said these people had failed the protocol.”

  “I know. I can’t get away from that either,” he said. “And these people seem to come from all over the country. The paperwork establishes that they have been participants, but are now in remission because of AZ-1166. That doesn’t sound like failure. That sounds like the drug was a success.”

  “Mmmmm. We certainly can’t confront Ethan,” Gina said. “He’s the one who lied to us in the first place.”

  “I keep thinking there might be some plausible explanation … but what could it be?”

  “Maybe we could ask to see the actual study protocol,” Gina said “I mean, after all it’s a logical request, considering what we’ve been told. We could have misunderstood Ethan … maybe these people are in a different phase of the study at this particular facility.”

  “Failed does not mean the same as in remission.”

  Gina pulled her salad across the table and took a few bites. She felt Harry staring at her. “I mean, it is possible we just don’t have all the information.”

  Harry started laughing, and then he couldn’t stop.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You,” Harry said, “being the voice of reason.”

  “Ha, ha! That’s not funny, Harry Lucke.”

  Chapter 18

  “Here are some pills for you to take,” Delores said, then up-ended a medicine cup to spill out two identical pills into Rhonda’s palm.

  Rhonda fingered the small tablets. “Have I taken these before?”

  “No, they’re a new medicine for your arthritis … they’ll also help you sleep. You’ve been very restless ever since you arrived. Anyway, Doctor wants to start you on these.”

  Rhonda carefully picked up each pill, held it close to her face, tried to set its identity in her mind, then swallowed it with a generous gulp of water.

  * * * *

  How long ago did I take those pills?

  Still can’t sleep.

  She couldn’t stop her mind. She had questions, so many questions. But the worst part was having the same horrible words keep repeating, and repeating in her head: I’m blind!

  No matter how many times she said or thought about those terrible words, there was no acceptance … only cold sweat and a pounding heart.

  During the daylight hours, she could see something, and though limited, it gave her a sense of time, a sense of space. In the black of night, everything changed—she turned into a cornered animal, trapped in a box with no way out.

  What if the eye surgery fails?

  What if they can’t even do the surgery?

  What if I can never see again?

  Negative questions nagged at her, stole her peace.

  When she’d had Alzheimer’s she never thought about things like that.

  Or did she?

  What she did remember was the day she was driving her car and couldn’t visualize where she was going, or even how to stop the vehicle. She’d thrown herself from the moving car into the street, heard her own screams as she hit the pavement. After a night in the hospital, she went back to her apartment and things became normal again.

  But they really weren’t. And they never were again. She’d finally accepted her reality. It was then that she talked her cousin into being her guardian and signing her in as a participant in a clinical study her doctor had recommended.

  It was like magic. After being on the medicine for only five months, the Alzheimer’s was gone! But so was her vision and her arthritis had increased to the point where her hands felt like clubs.

  And then everything happened so quickly.

  The pharmaceutical company said they were moving her to Nevada for special treatments for her problems. But if the cure was in the pills they gave her, she never saw any improvement in the time she’d been here. In fact, not only had her vision and arthritis gotten worse, so had her mind. It seemed to be slipping again … gradually, but she noticed the difference.

  It was so hard to be in this place. So many patients seemed to be in such terrible pain—arthritis, spasms, leg cramps, chest agony. She’d hear them coughing, crying in the daytime; the same throughout the long nights. They all begged and begged for something to alleviate their misery.

  The doctors she’d worked for never allowed their patients to have this kind of constant pain. They wouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

  No one should have to suffer like this.

  She started to drift off … sounds were diminishing … melting, melting away. Going home … she would be going home soon … soon.

  * * * *

  “Did Delores give her the Ambien?” Pete asked, pushing an empty gurney.

  “Gave her a double dose,” Rocky said. “Told her it was a new medicine for her arthritis.”

  “That was pretty smart.”

  “Delores is smart all right … but I’m fucking smarter … and stronger!” He raised his right arm and flexed the bicep. “She knows better than to mess with me!”

  “That’s for sure,” Pete said loudly, giving his buddy a look of admiration.

  “Sh-h! We need to keep our voices down.”

  As they continued to move through the unit, Rocky glanced at his watch: 10 PM. They waved at the overnight duty nurse, standing in the station drawing up a medication, and at the orderly working at the computer. Neither responded with anything more than a slight nod.

  Outside Rhonda Jenkins’ room, Rocky touched a finger to his lips. He pulled a tourniquet and pre-loaded syringe from his pocket; the one that Ethan had given him.

  “M-m-m-m! Good ole knock-out juice,” he whispered to Pete as they pushed the gurney into Rhonda’s room.

  “Dark in here … can’t see what I’m doing.”

  “Turn on the light, dummy,” Rocky whispered. “Not gonna make any difference … she’s fucking blind.”

  Rhonda was lying on her side, turned away from them. Her breaths were shallow and very slow.

  The meds, as predicted, had totally knocked her out.

  “Take her arm. Try not to jolt her!” Rocky said in a harsh whisper. “I don’t want her screaming her head off and waking up all the other moaners and groaners.”

  Pete lifted the exposed arm; Rocky studied it, looked for a bulging vein. But there wasn’t even a hint of one in her stick-thin limb.

  “Shit, can’t ever grab a break.” He slipped the rubber strip around her arm and tightened it. She muttered something but was too out of it to make any sense. “Hold her arm good.”

  Pete held Rhonda in place while Rocky searched for a vein. “Damn it, there’s nothing here!” He snapped the tourniquet open and retied it tighter. “Nothing! Shit! Where the hell are they?” He poked until he thought he felt something in the crook of her arm. “This better work.”

  The minute he jabbed the needle in, she began thrashing around, trying to break free from Pete’s grip.

  “She’s fuckin’ strong for an old buzzard,” Pete grumped, trying to hold her down.

  Rhonda suddenly sat up straight, started to scream; Rocky slugged her hard on the jaw and she fell back onto the bed, out cold.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  * * * *

  Gina checked the bedside clock: 2:30. The red-orange numbers seemed to hang free form in
the inky darkness. She eased out of bed and dressed quietly. Harry was a heavy sleeper and she knew if she was careful, she could get out the door without waking him. It only took a few minutes before she was outside the apartment, a broom in hand.

  She headed for the stairs and used the broom handle to gently redirect the two overhead stairwell security cameras so they were unable to record her presence. Although they might guess it was her, they wouldn’t be able to prove it. She walked cautiously down the stairs; at each landing she repeated her silent attack on the security cameras.

  Tightening her sweater around her, she tried not to think about what would happen if she was caught in the basement again. This time, there could be no cover up. She’d been told she wasn’t supposed to be there; it had been made very clear. Besides, what was she doing there in the middle of the night? No way to explain that away.

  When she reached the basement, she rested the broom in a corner, took out her ID card and shoved it into the slot. The door opened with barely an audible click. As much as she wanted to leave it open, she closed it so the light from the staircase was blocked out.

  Harry’s going to kill me when he finds out about this.

  The elevator was several feet down the corridor. She positioned herself, remembering what it was like when she was here last time—if she went to the left, it would take her down the long corridor to the kitchen. Once again she eyed the entrance to the tunnel straight ahead, almost hidden from this angle. She turned right. The corridor was about ten feet across, but she felt safer leaning, flattening her body against the wall as she edged forward.

  The dimmed lights and the silence made everything seem strange; scenes from bloody slash movies popped unwanted into her head. She swallowed hard, forced herself to keep from jumping at every shadow, from expecting someone to rush out and try and kill her.

  Cut it out! Stop imagining things!

  She stood still, closed her eyes, and allowed her heart to slow down.

  When she finally calmed down and started to move again, something soft brushed against one ankle, then the other. She jumped, let out a yelp, and slapped a hand across her mouth. She held her breath and looked down into the shining green eyes of a cat rubbing against her leg. It meowed, wanted to be petted; Gina waved it away.

  She continued edging her way down the corridor, which began to curve. Judging from the distance and the location, she knew that she must be circling one of the huge boulders visible outside facility.

  Ahead, she heard a buzz of voices. She needed to get much closer to hear what was being said. The cat continued to follow her, causing her to trip over it; she tried shooing it away, but it kept pace, moving between Gina’s legs.

  * * * *

  “What is the matter with the two of you?” Ethan said when Rocky and Pete arrived with the gurney. “You’re more than twenty minutes late. Do you think I can stand here the whole friggin’ night waiting for a couple of losers to get the job done?”

  “It’s not exactly a walk in the park,” Rocky said.

  “Did I say it would be easy when I picked the two of you out of the gutter for the job? No! I said it would be damn hard … you signed on … and now I expect you to get the job done.” Ethan spoke to them like they were stupid delinquents. “Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

  “Yes, Dr. Dayton,” Pete said.

  “Yeah,” Rocky said. “I got you.”

  “Good! Now put her up on the table.” He stepped back and watched. “I hope you didn’t get her all riled up—I told you before, it screws up my analysis.”

  The two of them lifted Rhonda from the gurney, placed her on the stainless steel table, and shoved her head smack against the top edge.

  “Don’t stand there like two wooden posts. Wait outside until I call for you. For Christ’s sake, do I have to tell you the same thing every single time?”

  * * * *

  Gina identified the voices of Pete and Rocky; they were coming her way. She turned to backtrack down the corridor, almost went flying over the cat again. It screeched, clawed at her leg, hooked into her denim jeans. Gina whirled around, the feline still hanging from her pants. She grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and yanked it away from her. The cat stiffened in panic, the claws not only ripped the fabric, but it sank its teeth into her flesh. Gina swung her arm back and forth and finally tossed it far down the hallway.

  The cat had not only gored her leg, it also had hooked a claw deep into her arm. She bit back the pain, but she still felt as though she’d been torn apart.

  She started to head back to the stairwell, but saw she’d misjudged the distance—it was much farther than she remembered.

  * * * *

  “There’s somebody else down here,” Pete yelled. “Did you hear that?”

  “Don’t get your bowels in an uproar. They keep a bunch of cats down here. They’re probably wandering around fighting over some pussy.” Rocky roared with laughter.

  “Cats?”

  “Cuts the rat population. Boy, are you stupid,” Rocky said. “Don’t you know nothin’?”

  “I know enough to check out that noise.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay, let’s go. I’m bored standing around anyway, doing nothing but listening to you jabbering like a dork.” Rocky stretched his neck form side to side, flexed his arm muscles. “This is the shits, man. I’d planned on a little visit to the Starlight Ranch tonight. Was gonna get my rocks off with some hot bitch. Then good ole Ethan fucked that up.”

  “Man, is that all the faster you can move?” Pete said.

  “You keep yanking my chain and you’ll see how fast I can move to beat the shit outta you.”

  * * * *

  Gina heard Rocky, Pete, their gruff voices getting louder, closer. She could almost hear them breathing. They were going to catch her. Fear shook her, screams jammed in her throat.

  What would they do to her?

  Sweat and blood soaked her clothes … her leg was on fire … shooting sparks burned holes in her flesh.

  Need to move … can’t.

  * * * *

  Ethan’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Hey, where the hell are the two of you?” There was disgust in his voice. “Can’t even do a simple thing like wait?”

  “Be right there, boss,” Pete yelled.

  “Do you always have to lick his ass like that?” Rocky said, turning around. “It kinda makes me want to puke.”

  “He’s the man with the bucks, bro,” Pete said. “Ain’t that why we’re here … why we came to Nevada?”

  “Maybe you’re not so dumb after all.” A harsh laugh echoed down the corridor. “Except for making me chase after some cat in heat.”

  * * * *

  Gina let her breath out, heard their voices start to fade as they moved away from her and back down the corridor. She hugged herself as she bent over, fighting spasms of pain that made her want to retch.

  When she was able to stop shaking and think again, she limped, slid along the wall until she was once again at the stairwell.

  Chapter 19

  Gina tiptoed into the apartment, closed the door with a careful click, and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the light, stripped off her clothes, sat on the toilet lid, and examined the claw marks on her leg.

  No wonder it burned like hell—they were raw and deep. The cat had really done a number on her. There was a stabbing pain all the way from her calf to her thigh. And her arm, though not as bad, still hurt and had bled profusely. She could barely lift it—it weighed a ton.

  “Jesus, Gina! What happened?”

  She jumped when Harry’s voice cut into the silence. She was so focused she hadn’t heard him come into the bathroom.

  “Did you know they have watch cats in the basement?” She tried to treat it lightly, not turn it into a big deal, but she couldn’t stop the tears from gushing down her cheeks.

  Harry held her in his arms, just letting her sob until she quieted down.

  “Tell me about it,
doll?” He caressed the back of her neck, rubbed her back.

  She’d done it again, done something stupid, done something that could have gotten her into real trouble. That she’d barely escaped discovery only made her realize how terrifying the whole experience had been.

  “I know I promised, Harry.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “But I had to know what the rest of the lower level was like.”

  “Sort of a case of curiosity killed the cat,” he said with the hint of a smile.

  “Obviously not the one that clawed me half to death.”

  “Let’s get these wounds cleaned up.” He reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant, dressing supplies, and antibiotic ointment, set them on the edge of the washbasin. He went out and grabbed a kitchen chair, brought it back, and sat it down next to her. He washed her leg with warm water, then did the same for her arm.

  “Man, this cat was definitely in attack mode,” he said. “You must have the scared the heck out of that poor kitty.”

  “Poor kitty? Scared it? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m the one who’s all ripped up.”

  “When was your last tetanus shot?”

  “About a year ago. I’m okay with that.”

  “Okay, so while I do the nurse thing on the nurse, tell me exactly what you’ve been up to. And don’t leave out a single thing.”

  * * * *

  “You took a terrible risk,” Harry said, putting the chamomile tea bags in their cups.

  “I know.”

  “What do you think Ethan was doing down there?”

  “I don’t know. I never got close enough to see. Pete and Rocky were almost on top of me when they were called back. Thirty seconds more and it would’ve all been over.” She ran both hands down the length of her face. “That’s what I keep thinking about.”

  He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Why couldn’t you just let it be?”

  “I don’t always have logical reasons for the things I do. I’m not like you. I guess I can’t stand not knowing or understanding every part of an unknown equation. I hate feeling helpless and … and … used.”