“God,” Alex whispered, as he folded his hands, closed his eyes and bowed his head “I know that vengeance is yours. And I can’t promise I won’t try to seek it out. But I turn this over to you as best I can. All that I ask is that you bring Lisa home safely, whatever happens after that really doesn’t matter.”
Standing up, he headed towards the nursery entrance. He nodded at the uniformed officer but said nothing.
As he opened the door, he could hear cooing and the occasional frustrated cry that filled the small nursery. A couple of nurses looked up, smiled and went about their various duties, silently acknowledging his presence.
Pulling up a chair next to Baby Joseph’s temporary Plexiglas home, Alex reached a hand out and opened the transparent box. Gently, he stuck a hand in and stroked his child’s tiny hand. Joseph twitched again, most likely not a hiccup this time, eliciting a slight chuckle from
Alex, whose eyes were still fighting tears.
“Daddy’s here,” he whispered, eliciting another tiny spasm from the baby. Even with what looked like a feeding tube in his nose, the baby let go with something akin to a sneezy sound.
He looked at his watch. It was after two in the morning. He could feel fatigue settling over him like a blanket, but this was hardly the warm inviting comfort one finds wrapped in the feathery relief of quilt and comforter. No, this blanket was itchy, far too heavy and inappropriate for the summer heat baking the outside world. This blanket, metaphorical as it might have been, made Alex sick. It was a reminder of how much sleep he’d lost and how painfully impossible it would be to find rest until Lisa was home and all was well in the Mendez world.
A nurse came over and motioned to Alex. She obviously was going to check on Baby Joseph. Just a formality, Alex told himself. He’d watched out of the corner of his eye and she’d gone from baby to baby, taking temperatures, checking various vital signs, even taking the obligatory blood sample in the baby’s heel.
Backing away so as to allow her clearance to work with Baby Joseph, Alex kept a nervous vigil expected of a new father. Wrapping Joseph in bubble wrap for the rest of his life wasn’t likely to instill the character traits Alex wanted his children to possess in their adult years.
Still, he thought, we’re going to have to do something until your mother gets home.
He smiled as that thought crossed the fog of unconscious into the realm of conscious thought that allowed him to truly grasp it as if it were a message from the Great Beyond itself.
Until your mother gets home.
She’ll be home soon, he thought to himself as he stared at Baby
Joseph, who was now squirming against the uncomfortable, confusing ceremony of temperature taking.
“Careful,” Alex whispered, touching the nurse’s arm gently.
“Don’t hurt him.”
“Oh, I’m being careful,” the nurse whispered back. Her voice was almost sing-songy. Nearly Mary Poppins-like, minus the Julie Andrews
British accent of course. “I’m not hurting him,” she assured Alex.
“Well it hurts me just looking at it,” Alex said, eliciting a chuckle from the petite redheaded nurse. Her name badge said she was “Lauren Perry, RN.”
“I’ve been doing this for 13 years, Mr. Mendez,” she assured him, her voice maintaining the elementary school teacher quality about it. “I haven’t lost one yet.”
“Yeah but he’s special,” Alex assured her.
“Yes he is,” she agreed, smiling at Baby Joseph. “Needs a name though, doesn’t he?” She tapped the small tag.
Yes he does, Alex thought. And when Lisa gets home, we’ll remedy that little problem.
“Reminds me of my second son,” Nurse Perry continued. “Joey sure was a pretty baby. But then all moms think that their babies are pretty.”
“Joey?” Alex asked.
“My second son, Joseph, we called him Joey. Now it’s Joe. Big college guy can’t be a Joey, yanno.”
How old was this woman? Alex would have sworn she was maybe around his age. Pushing thirty-five at the most. To find out she had a college-age son surprised Alex. Then it settled in that she said he was her second born. Clearly she had aged well.
“That’s a nice name,” Alex said, unable to hide his smile. He was amazed, confused, even strangely comforted by the sudden kinship forged with the kindly Nurse Perry.
As she finished taking Joseph’s temperature, she smiled at Alex.
“He’s all yours.”
Again, Alex smiled. As quickly as it built, the smile faded, as thoughts of Lisa pushed the quirky happiness down into the depths of an ever-darkening existence.
“Doesn’t look a thing like you.”
***
He awoke to pain; pain in his head, and in his neck. Indescribable agony coursed through his arms and shoulders. Had he been able to feel them, he was reasonably sure his legs would be in just as much pain. No doubt, Eric was a mess. So it amazed and confused even him when he awoke with more concern for the damaged vehicle in which he now sat than for his own personal well-being. His vision was clouded by small trickles of blood and sweat falling from his tattered scalp. The sun was starting to come up so it was relatively easy to tell the good news from the bad news. The good news was they’d landed upright. The bad news was…
Where to begin?
There was a lot of bad news. The car was destroyed. He was destroyed; battered, broken.
The woman!
She said her name was Lisa.
Where the heck was she?
He tried to speak, even before he looked in the empty passenger floorboard. His voice wouldn’t obey his commands. His mouth had dried. His head was pounding. Between pain and confusion, his brain simply couldn’t make the connection to his mouth.
He blinked and squinted, looked out the hole that used to be his front windshield. He saw nothing. No sign of the battered woman in
her hospital gown.
“Hello,” he whispered. He tried to shout, but a whisper was all that he could manage. His lungs burned at the attempt and he knew that a second try was not within his power. Still, the verbiage had jarred something loose in his chest. Suddenly he erupted with an uncontrollable coughing fit. The convulsing sent stabbing pains down his spine, into his otherwise numbed legs. In between coughs, he cursed and—if you could call it that—prayed for relief.
Where the heck was she?
A warm gust of wind blew through the busted out windows. What would have normally cooled and comforted him served only to remind him of his dire circumstances. Checking the floorboard once again, it finally sank in. She was gone. And she’d taken the cell phone with her.
I swear to God, this is the last time I ever do a good deed for another person as long as I live!
He couldn’t believe it! He had saved the woman’s life and she had just up and left him for dead! Used him and thrown him away!
He felt the car door shimmy. A creaking noise built, as grinding metal helplessly twisted against itself.
***
Alex didn’t have to turn around to recognize Danny’s voice. Even in a whisper, Alex knew the voice of his best friend. It aggravated him.
“Why aren’t you out looking for Lisa?” Alex whispered, turning to meet Danny’s face.
“Because I came to check on you, and the little guy,” Alex met Danny’s eyes, trying but failing to mask his anger. “Hoo, boy! That’s
some serious luggage you’ve got going under those eyeballs, Man.
When did you sleep last?”
Looking at Baby Joseph, Alex said “The day before he was born, probably.”
“Alex, he’s nearly a week old. You’re telling me you haven’t slept
in nearly a week?”
“Basically,” Alex shrugged.
“Okay that’s it. We’re going to find you a cot, a couch or a soft piece of floor and you’re going to get 4 good hours of sleep.”
“I can’t leave him, Danny. I won’t.”
“Th
at’s why I’m here,” Danny said. “Uncle Danny will watch over the little guy. You need your rest. We need you clearheaded.”
“We? What’s this we stuff, white man?”
“We as in me, Lisa, everybody in East Texas law enforcement, the little guy. Basically anybody who’s anybody needs you rested and relaxed. I’ve got every man out there looking for Lisa. We will find her, Alex. I sent a car over to check on those Feds that are supposed to be watching the house too. In the meantime, Junior needs Senior to get some rest. Geez, you want to scare the little guy to death? You could vacation for a week with those bags!”
He hated to admit it but Danny was right. Alex had been running on caffeine and adrenaline for days. In the last several hours, the effectiveness of both had been steadily dwindling. And the fact was he had always been able to trust Danny before. Nothing close to harm had ever befallen Alex under Danny’s watch. Had it not been for Danny,
Alex would now be a widower.
Emotions were running high for Alex and he wasn’t thinking like a cop anymore. Life had taken new shape in the last week. Meaning had shifted. Priorities had no doubt changed. Alex’s world was turned upside-down. And like always Danny was to the rescue.
With a sudden jolt that even surprised himself, Alex gripped Danny as tightly as he’d ever hugged a grown man before. “I love you, Danny.
Thanks.”
Smiling that playful Peterson smile, Danny pushed Alex away.
“Get off me, Gay Boy,” he said, chuckling. “Save that mess for somebody more secure in his manhood.”
“Nobody’s a bigger man than you, Danny,” Alex said. “And nobody’s a better friend. Thanks. I mean it.”
“Alex, really,” Danny said, his voice humbled, soft. “You just go get some rest. I’m on it, okay? I got this. I got your back.”
“Like always,” Alex said, “Thanks, Brother.”
“Get some sleep,” Danny repeated. “I’ll call you if anything happens.”
Alex turned towards the exit. He took one look back at Danny who was sitting himself next to Baby Joseph’s transparent enclosure. He chuckled as he winked at the tiny Nurse Perry. “I think he might need histemperature checked too.”
Winking back at Alex, Nurse Perry chuckled, put a hand on
Danny’s shoulder and caught herself awestruck by the tiny Mendez in the Plexiglas enclosure.
As he left the tiny nursery, Alex felt a sense of relief he hadn’t felt in a while.
He turned to the young uniformed officer and said “I’m Alex Mendez. That’s Captain Danny Peterson in there. You call me if anything happens to my son or to Captain Peterson, you hear me? I want to know if he goes to the vending machines to get a coke. If he leaves my child alone to take a pee, you better let me know, you hear?”
A sudden nervousness washed over the young cop’s face. He said nothing, merely nodded in acknowledgement.
Satisfied, Alex turned in pursuit of a place to dance with Mr. Sandman for a while knowing the approaching dance was going to be anything but a peaceful waltz.
***
As suddenly as it started, the creaking stopped.
“Would you like to help me here, Sporty?”
It was her. She hadn’t left after all! Maybe she’d had an attack of conscience and simply come back for him. Maybe she’d forgotten to
dispose of the evidence. Whatever the case, he’d be mad later. Get out, he thought to himself.
He tried to twist himself around, tried to get in a better position.
Something more stable, to better push against the jammed car door. Maybe if he pushed all his weight, the door might free itself. With only the slightest of pressure, his back seized up. Knife-sharp pains paralyzed him. His already-broken ribs had been re-injured. More, he thought, had been cracked. His wrist had probably been throbbing all along, but conscious thought of the break brought to life the first sensations of pain and weakness therein.
Tears filled his eyes, but he could still see her face. The knowing look said more than he needed to hear. He wouldn’t be any help. He was useless. The knight in shining armor had turned out to be little more than a wannabe.
“I’m too weak to do this on my own, kid,” she said. “You’re going to have to help me.” Suddenly her voice shifted from stern to almost motherly. “I know it hurts but I need your help. We have to get out of here. We’ve got to get you out of this car. It’s leaking gas. Might not be much in the tank, but…”
She didn’t need to say anymore. The car could explode any second.
And it was clear she didn’t want to be the lone survivor of a car explosion she couldn’t explain. Of course, he wasn’t exactly excited about the prospect of being a victim of the same circumstance.
“We need help,” he groaned.
“I tried to flag down a couple of cars,” she said, exasperated. “They wouldn’t stop for a beat up, bruised, bleeding woman in a tattered hospital gown standing by what used to be a car, waving her arms and screaming for help at the top of her lungs.”
She smiled slightly and winked at him. As she raised her arm to try and readjust her grip on the door, Lisa winced noticeably and cradled her side. Perhaps trying to ignore the pain, or simply trying to hide it she bit her bottom lip and went back to pushing the door, smiling weakly at him. Eric chose not to acknowledge the break in Lisa’s confidence.
Whoever she was, she gave the impression of being very strong, very prideful. Loyalty, however, was yet to have proven her strong point. If nothing else, she was the only thing that stood between him and being trapped in a car that could explode any second.
“Imagine that,” Eric grunted, again trying to push loose. “The nerve of some people!”
The strain of pushing against the door was making his head throb painfully. The gash in his scalp felt like it was ripping upon itself.
Fighting pain literally from head to toe, Eric pushed against the doorframe with what strength he could muster.
The metal frame cried out louder and louder, fighting against the desires of human flesh it must have perceived as selfish and unworthy of consideration. No matter, Eric Reid thought to himself. Human willpower would triumph over an inanimate pile of twisted metal, rubber and fiberglass.
A spark near the back of the vehicle drained all remaining color from Lisa’s face. He looked in her eyes and saw something worse than fear and urgency—something more ominous.
Correction, it wasn’t what he saw but what he didn’t see.
No hope, failure—it was as if he could see it that she had suddenly given up. Doomed Eric to a tragic fate, one he probably deserved after years of cold-shouldered torment directed at Jenny Anderson.
With one final shove, unassisted by anyone, Eric managed to open the door enough so that he could slip to safety. Fighting white-hot stabbing pains in his neck, wrist, head and back, Eric Reid wiggled himself loose, starting through the semi-opened, mangled door of his cherished automobile. Whether or not the security was actually any safer than where he was now was a question he’d worry about later.
Mustering all the strength he had, he pulled his half useless body from the wreckage. His scalp dripped blood onto the hot roadway beneath him. His left hand caught itself on the slippery liquid and Eric nearly lost it.
Catching himself mere millimeters before his chin met roadway, Eric pushed with all he had, desperate to steady himself. It wasn’t until he was nearly out of the car that Lisa seemed to emerge from the fog of helplessness that shrouded her.
Fighting fatigue and pain he was sure he could not comprehend, she lifted him by the underarms and attempted to drag him across the other side of the oil-topped road. The safety factor was highly relative, he thought, but being in a ditch on the opposite side of the oil-topped road—barely more than a car width from doom—was far more appealing than the idea of standing next to a car certain to explode any second.
“The phone!” Eric said, remembering the cell phone.
He’d hardly manage
d to get the words out before his voice was drowned by the sudden whooshing fireball engulfing his prized Sunfire.
CHAPTER 22
Awakenings
Billowing smoke still engulfed the vehicle, though the fire was quickly burning itself out. Shards of metal or plastic or whatever materials went into making the once prized vehicle were everywhere, some burning, some not. If there was a bright side, Eric thought, his scalp, though still throbbing, appeared to have stopped bleeding.
Nevertheless, his hair was now a mess with crusted bloody remnants.
“You okay?” Eric asked, clearing his throat, choking more on the words than the smoke filling the air.
Turning around, sitting up on her knees to get a better view, she didn’t immediately respond. She winced again as she stretched her neck and shoulders upward, beyond what her body’s current injured limitations were willing to allow. As she gripped her side, Eric looked down and noticed what appeared to be blood. Dark blood, caked in dirt.
Finally, a distracted nod offered Eric an uncertain response. Was she nodding at him or at whatever thoughts now distracted her mind? Was she simply acknowledging the pain he respectfully tried not to mention?
Eric watched as she dusted off the hospital gown that was now even more dirty and tattered than it had been before. It was evident that the fragile hospital gown had not been intended to provide the wearer with much protection in the event of a terrorist abduction, car wreck or explosion. As they’d experienced all three in the last several hours, he was amazed the thin garment had held together as well as it had.
Without thinking, Eric removed his shirt, revealing his pale, gaunt frame. The brushing of his hair against his arms and the shirt sent short waves of pain through the nerves in his neck. His head jerked suddenly to one side. His eye twitched. A lightning bolt shot through his body, momentarily seizing him.
Casting a sharp, shocked look at Eric, Lisa fell into a seated position. As if she’d jostled something loose within herself, Lisa suddenly grabbed her stomach again. She groaned sharply. Her breathing became somewhat rapid, short. As she raised her glance back to Eric, it looked as if her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Still, something in her gaze seemed glassy, distant.
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