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

by Bette Golden Lamb

  “Let me just get everything ready.” Ethan moved the supplies to a tray, rolled it next to Rocky, and handed him the morphine concoction. “Down the hatch, Rocky.”

  The pills had dissolved; Rocky swallowed the mixture in two huge gulps. It seared its way down his throat, and landed like lava in his stomach.

  Ethan moved very quickly now. He pressed the two injured fingers together and splinted both sides with the tongue blades, then wrapped tape around them. It couldn’t have taken him more than a couple of minutes. His fingers felt like he was in a cast.

  “How’s that? Better?” Ethan said.

  Rocky’s hand still hurt like hell—the morphine hadn’t kicked in yet. He got up from the chair, but his legs were weak and he was lightheaded.

  “Let’s go find Pete,” Ethan said.

  Chapter 40

  Emma Goldmich was filled with hope. The nurse, Gina, had brought her only child back into her life. Now, if only she could live to see her one more time.

  Where is she? How is she doing? Will I hear from her again soon?

  It was difficult to focus on anything else.

  She fingered her locket, the one with Tuva’s picture inside; just touching it made her feel better. She opened it and looked at her daughter’s image, then closed it again. Open, close, open, close.

  For the first time she noticed that the hospital floor seemed unusually quiet. On most days, Rocky would come in and out of her room to taunt her with nasty, hate-filled words about old people.

  Old … useless. Why don’t you just die, you old bitch?

  Mean words that always made her feel less than human. But even he wasn’t around today. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him all day. Not that she missed him, but the silence was strange, disorienting.

  She was starting to lose focus again. She repeated her name over and over, tried to make herself think constructively.

  Emma, Emma, Emma.

  She forced herself to roll from side to side on her bed; repeated her name again.

  Emma, Emma, Emma, Emma.

  The movement caused terrible pain, but the more she moved, the better she felt. After a while, the pain eased.

  Had she only imagined that Gina brought a letter from her daughter? Had Tuva really written to her? Had it really happened?

  Was it true that the administrator had kept Tuva’s letters from her? Why would he do such a terrible thing? Questions and more questions.

  Delores was talking outside her room. She was talking to someone whose voice Emma didn’t recognize.

  “Something’s going on,” Delores said. “The administrator doesn’t usually poke his head in here.”

  “Heck,” the stranger’s voice said, “anyplace I’ve ever worked, we usually can’t get rid of them.”

  “Well,” Delores said, “we better give these shots. This ought to knock them out. They’ll all sleep pretty good after this.”

  Emma didn’t like Delores, but she especially didn’t like the way she was talking tonight. Emma wasn’t going to take a shot. She’d refuse. No matter how much pain she had, she wouldn’t take it.

  Then Delores was next to her bed.

  “Time for your shot, Emma.”

  “I don’t want it! Leave me alone.” Emma started scooting away from the nurse to the other side of the bed. She kept her rump flat against the mattress.

  “Now I don’t want to be mean to you, Emma, but you’re getting this shot … like it or not!”

  She grabbed Emma’s arm, pulled her back near her, roughly pushed aside her clothes, and jabbed hard with the needle.

  “You’ll get a good sleep, Emma.” And with that, the nurse left the room.

  Tears rolled down Emma’s face. She refused to think about Delores. Instead, she closed her eyes and visualized her daughter. In a few minutes she started to doze and was floating away, doing things with Tuva.

  The two of them were in a narrow hallway and it was very, very dark. She could barely see where they were going. Tuva’s movements were slow and sluggish. She was in trouble. Some kind of trouble.

  “Stop! Don’t go there! Tuva! We have to go back!”

  Tuva let out a piercing scream and fell into a black hole. She watched from above and saw herself drop down after her daughter.

  She sat up in bed; her body screamed in pain from the sudden movement.

  “Help my daughter! Someone help her!”

  * * * *

  Tuva groaned and tried to turn but she couldn’t move—some invisible force kept her flat on her back.

  Snippets of visions came and went, along with shadowy people who appeared and disappeared as they floated through her head.

  One time she was in a hospital, lying on a stretcher. Harsh male voices were above and around her. They kept speaking her name, talking back and forth about her. She could see herself, half awake, trying to catch a glimpse of them. But her head became heavy and she fell back. The men became blurry phantoms again. She needed to concentrate, but each time she almost grabbed onto what the men were saying, even understand a sentence, she’d drift off and the scene would change. Now, in a new vision, the same people, with the same voices, were pushing, shoving her around. When they lifted her and carried her, every part of her body ached.

  With a suddenness that made her head spin, she was tossed into the air, then landed hard on her back.

  She screamed as something stabbed into her flesh.

  Then everything went black.

  * * * *

  Tuva opened her eyes. She was wide awake now; she tried to remember what had happened to her. She’d come into the building where her mother was supposed to be and the administrator had taken her into his office. He’d stepped out and someone grabbed her from behind, covered her face, A strong-smelling chemical had burned its way through her nose and mouth. After that, everything went blank until she woke up here.

  Now every inch of her body felt beaten.

  She couldn’t see very well, was still trying to adjust to the very dim light. She rubbed hard at her eyes, turned to look around, and stared into two empty eye sockets, and a gaping hole where a nose should have been.

  Tuva screamed, then over and over until no sound escaped her mouth.

  She tried to back away, move away from those empty eyes, but kept sinking lower with every movement. Dead people kept closing in until she was caught between shifting bodies and splintered bones. She was trapped in a huge pit … a pit with sheered-off walls, and a top that was way, way above her.

  Frantic, she tried to sit up, but pieces of decapitated skulls kept rolling onto and over her. Everything was moving like an ocean wave filled with putrid, rotting bodies. Soon she would go down and drown in this terrible pit.

  She yelled at the top of her lungs.

  “Let me out! I have to get out! Please let me out!”

  She took a step and started to fall. Then the lights blinked and went out.

  Chapter 41

  By the time they got to the tunnel, Rocky was stumbling; his legs didn’t want to work right; they got heavier and heavier. Ethan was poking at him, shouldering him to keep him upright and going.

  Man, that morphine’s strong. Can’t even feel my feet no more. Shit! Ain’t complaining. At least the fuckin’ pain’s gone.

  Rocky’s mind kept wandering, thinking back. He saw himself in Montana … the sky a pretty blue. He hadn’t thought about that for a long time. It distracted him and he stopped to look at his fingers. They looked strange. Blue fingers? Well, the tips were blue … or were they purple? Couldn’t see the rest. They were wrapped with those flat sticks and tape. Oh, yeah, tongue blades.

  Tongue blades on fingers don’t seem right.

  Blades of green grass. That’s where blades belonged.

  Blades of grass.

  He was runnin’ across a grassy meadow, Petey was right behind him … they were little boys. And there was that big hill comin’ ... their legs were pumping, they were panting so hard.

>   Stop it, Petey! Stop pushing me!

  He turned.

  “Ethan?”

  “Keep moving, Rocky!”

  Ethan was panting in his ear, working hard to hold Rocky up. “You know, Rocky … haven’t really had a chance to thank you … and Pete … for everything you’ve done for me … without the two of you … I’d never have been able … to bring this whole thing off.”

  Rocky thought those were strange sounding words. “What thing off?”

  “You know, taking care of the patients … making sure the nurses stayed in line.”

  “You mean bumping off them half-dead suckers?” Rocky barked out a laugh. “Ain't much different from killin’ a chicken.”

  Made Rocky think how he wanted to do a thing or two to Ethan. The man kept forcing him along when all he wanted to do was crash for a while.

  As soon as I get Petey out of the mine, we’ll take care of the bastard. Hell, maybe I didn’t even lock my buddy Petey in there. Maybe he’s out front waiting for me right now, waiting to go get a brewsky.

  “Ha.” He wanted to laugh, but it turned into a soft mutter. Petey go back without him? Nah, he’d have to carry on about takin’ out the male nurse, making a big thing out of it, especially since that nurse almost beat the shit out of him.

  Yeah, I must have locked him in. Poor boob.

  He stopped and started laughing, an uncontrollable roar. That was pretty funny. “I locked Petey in the mine. Wow, what a fuckin’ stupid thing to do. He’s gonna be pissed at me.”

  “Yes, I suppose he will be,” Ethan said.

  Rocky’s head felt funny, like it was lifting off his shoulders. He was pretty damn high—so high, his heart was trying to fight its way out of his chest, sweat was dripping off his hands.

  I’m sweating like a pig.

  He continued laughing, going on and on until he couldn’t stop.

  “What’s so funny,” Ethan asked, but kept nudging him forward.

  “Sweating like a pig.” Rocky kept laughing, laughing so hard he could barely get the words out. “Don’t you hear it? Sweating like…” Then he couldn’t remember why that was so funny.

  Ethan was shoving him hard, and Rocky was having trouble getting his legs to move. He couldn’t see real well in the dim light and the mine floor seemed to be changing like the rippling waves at the beach. He kept stumbling over rocks as he tried to squeeze through the narrowing walls of the mine.

  He needed to sit down, rest a while.

  “Come on, Rocky. We’re almost there.”

  “Goddam, my chest hurts … there ain’t enough air in here.”

  “Look ahead, see, there’s the Y. See it? And there’s the mine gate.” Ethan slipped a hand in Rocky’s pants pocket and took out the key.

  “I’m gonna just sit for a while. You go ahead and let Petey out.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t go back to the units?”

  “No! Not without me. Not Petey. We were going to meet here after takin’ care of those stupid nurses. He wouldn’t go back without me. Not Petey.” Did he say that before? His words trailed off … not without …”

  Ethan grabbed him under his arms and dragged him to the Y.

  “Hey, whadda … you...” Rocky didn’t think that sounded right, but his mouth didn’t want to move like it should.

  He was sprawled in the dirt; he watched Ethan open the iron gate part way on the left side. The loud, rasping sound echoed in Rocky’s head. His brain was on fire, flashes of red burned behind his eyes.

  “Are you sure this is the mine he went into?”

  “Yazz.”

  Ethan came back for him, pulled him into the mine shaft. Silt clogged his nose until he could barely grab a breath.

  Rocky wanted to lift his arms, wanted to stop Ethan.

  Gonna beat the mothafuckin’ bastard.

  But every part of him felt like lead—heavy and dead.

  “Like I said, you and Pete have helped me a lot, but at the same time the two of you have been nothing but … as you would say, fuckups. And you’re both very stupid not to see this coming. Someone with the brains of a snake could see you’d need to be taken care of at some point. And by the way, Rocky, that amount of morphine and liquor you had, would probably have brought down a Clydesdale … you know, those giant horses? Consider the booze a farewell gift.”

  “Hey, whadda … you—”

  Ethan leaned over him. “Don’t bother, Rocky. It’s all too difficult for you. Just close your eyes and it’ll all be over in a few minutes.”

  Ethan started to lock the huge gate, and as it almost clanked shut, he said, “Thanks for saving me the job of having to take care of your buddy Pete.”

  Flashes of red fireworks attacked Rocky’s burning brain. It was like the fires of hell, whipping at him in the near darkness. He could barely hear, or even understand Ethan’s last words.

  “Rocky, my boy, you’re a scholar and a gentleman.”

  But the laugh that followed was loud and clear.

  * * * *

  Getting the gate in position again almost did Ethan in. It was very heavy; Ethan’s grunts were loud as he shoved it closed, sealing Rocky inside—alone in the dark for the last moments of his life.

  He wasn’t a bit sorry for the fool. Given the chance, Rocky would have snuffed Ethan out without a moment’s hesitation. Ethan's only regret was the lost opportunity to examine the Neanderthal’s brain tissue under the electronic microscope. He might have been good for something.

  The thought amused him.

  He was still panting hard. Exhaustion was starting to seep into every part of his body; he could barely move his legs. He leaned on the wall and inched back down the passageway to the laboratory.

  He would have to get his computer—it held all of his personal research notes, plus each and every step of the AZ-1166 drug study, both the unofficial record for the FDA, and the actual data.

  His mind drifted; it was difficult to concentrate.

  Where on earth could the two travel nurses have hidden his flash drive?

  Forget it. What difference does it make? Both of them are dead, along with everyone else that knew the truth.

  Truth?

  The truth was, he needed to move faster. Even with all of his machinations, he knew there was only a small window of time for escape. Sooner or later it would all come out. He was betting he had at least enough time to get out of the country.

  * * * *

  When Ethan finally walked into the lab, he cringed at the sight of the mess he’d left while cleaning Rocky’s hand. Dirty 4x4s, broken tongue depressors, the empty glass that had held the killing dose of morphine.

  He carefully put everything back in its place—unused dressings into the small cabinet, the few pills left of morphine in the medicine cabinet. He couldn’t seem to help himself—he even compulsively cleaned the table where Rocky had rested his hands to have his fingers fixed.

  Why was he doing all of this?

  He sat down again, too weak to move on.

  He thought about the two orderlies.

  Both men had been psychotic and every one of the nurses knew it—none of them ever stayed more than three months. Every last one of them, except Delores, left after complaining about Rocky and Peter.

  Especially Rocky.

  The man was violent to women from the day Ethan hired him. He’d had to pay large sums of money to squash rape charges that otherwise would have been brought against not only Rocky, but Comstock; maybe even Zelint.

  When he once asked Rocky why he couldn’t stop hurting women, the orderly looked at Ethan like he was an idiot.

  “I don’t like ‘em … don’t trust ‘em, and the only thing they’re good for is fuckin’.”

  Well, Gina Mazzio didn’t have big muscles like Rocky and Pete, but she did have a brain and knew how to use it. They were both done in because of a woman.

  There’s some kind of poetic justice there, if I was willing to search for it. Too tired to care.

/>   Ethan stood, grabbed the printed confirmation of his plane ticket and put it in his jacket pocket. The first leg would take him from Reno to San Francisco, then on to Buenos Aires. At least that city had a huge population. They would have many subjects for his future studies.

  A whole new world of opportunity.

  He’d hardly done any traveling. Becoming an MD and practicing his specialty had taken up a good chunk of his life. The rest of his time always seemed to be about his job and the fascination of research. Over the years all that hard work and no play, no wife to spend his money, had made him a very rich man. He had enough money to go anywhere in the world.

  A sudden dizziness caused him to stumble to the desk. He held on until the room stopped spinning and he could ease himself into the chair again.

  Done in.

  He needed time to regain the strength he’d lost lugging Rocky into the mine. Ethan massaged his aching shoulders and at the same time forced himself to take deep, deep breaths. But he knew it wasn’t only the exertion of dealing with the orderly exhausting him. For weeks he’d been working double time getting ready to wrap up the Comstock facility for Zelint. They were right down to the wire, terminating patients at break-neck speed. He wanted every one of those subjects so he could study their brains. But it had been too much work and it was destroying him.

  David Zelint had become a frantic reminder of how it was all closing down. The man had started plaguing Ethan, insisting that he tidy things up before the pending FDA hearing.

  Yes, they’d finally gotten a real presentation date.

  “No loose ends,” were the very words David had used. And the way he’d said it had rankled Ethan.

  No loose ends? Tidying up? Cleaning up? All euphemisms that David used for killing off the rest of the patients on the units. David expected Ethan to dispose of them. That man didn’t care about the answers to the burning questions that seared Ethan’s mind. No, he sat in his pristine office and expected Ethan to do all the dirty work, clean up the final mess at Comstock; clean up everything that could sink AX-1166 and the company that created it.

  Did I tie up all the loose ends? Yes, David, I tied up the loose ends.