Counterblow
Part 2
Joanne was away from Johnny’s hospital room much longer than she’d originally intended to be. While in the cafeteria, she had run into Dixie having a late lunch and had joined her for some old-fashioned girl talk. Following lunch, she’d made a phone call to arrange for the kids to be picked up from school. Unfortunately their neighbor, Mrs. Francis, was quite a talker, and Joanne had trouble getting her off the telephone. After accomplishing that minor miracle, she made a quick trip to the restroom before heading back to Johnny’s room.
With a smile on her face, Joanne stepped into his room. “Sorry, Johnny, I meant to be back much earl . . .”
Roy’s wife was speaking to an empty room. Puzzled, she called out Gage’s name. A peek into the restroom revealed an equally empty space. Turning back to the bed, she finally noticed the discarded IV tubing. The fluid that had once been in the bag was now soaked into the sheets on the abandoned bed. The petite woman hurried out of the room to look for a nurse. Not finding anyone at the nurses’ desk, she searched up and down the hallway until she finally found someone.
“Excuse me, Nurse.”
The woman in white ignored Joanne, forcing the dark-haired to repeat her summons.
“Nurse?”
Finally, the tight-lipped nurse turned to Joanne with an impatient look on her face.
“Yes, what is it?” she snapped.
“I’m looking for a patient . . .”
“Did you bother to stop in Reception before wandering up here?” The nurse’s tone could have frozen lava.
“No, that’s not what I meant. John Gage isn’t in his room.”
“Who?”
“John Gage. The patient in Room 417.”
“He’s probably in the bathroom.”
“I already checked there.”
“Then he must be having some tests. You should wait for him in the family waiting room at the end of the hall.”
“But, I don’t think . . .”
The nurse’s mouth pinched a little tighter. “I don’t have time for nonsense. Patients don’t just disappear around here. Maybe you were looking in the wrong room.”
Joanne felt her usually dormant Irish temper spark at the nurse’s flippant and irritating attitude. Why you old battle ax!
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, nevermind. I’ll find someone who’s willing to help me.”
The chestnut-haired woman whirled and stalked away, her mind set on finding either Dr. Brackett or Dixie McCall.
Long minutes later, after an interminable wait for a slow elevator, Joanne entered a chaotic Emergency Department. She anxiously scanned the area and sighed in frustration when she spied the two people she’d come to see escorting a trauma patient into a treatment room. After a ten minute wait without seeing another familiar face, Jo decided to talk to Security instead of wasting any more time. So intent was she on her mission, she failed to notice the man in her path until she ran right into him.
“Oh, I’m sor . . . Roy!”
“Hi, hon.” The handsome paramedic smiled at the sight of his wife.
“Thank God you’re here.”
His smile faded when he noticed how upset she was.
“What’s wrong?”
“Johnny’s not in his room.”
“What do you mean he’s not in his room?”
“Just that. I went out to get some coffee and ended up having lunch with Dixie. Then I called Mrs. Francis to get the kids after school and then . . . then . . . by the time I got back to his room, it was empty.”
“So he was awake when you left the room?”
“Yeah, yeah . . . a Dr. Morales came in to see him. I left them alone to talk.”
“Doc Brackett mentioned him. Maybe something happened during their talk.”
“I don’t know. But, Roy, he pulled out his IV. The tubing and needle were just laying there on the bed.”
The door to the treatment room near to where the couple stood swung open and a grim doctor and nurse entered the hallway. From their demeanor, it was clear that they’d been unable to save their patient.
With a wave of his hand, Roy summoned the two individuals.
“Doc, I know this is a bad time, but . . . Johnny’s gone. He’s not in his room.”
“Gone? What the hell?”
“Joanne says the last person he was with was that Dr. Morales you told me about. When she went back in his room, he was gone.”
“Yes, and the IV stuff was just laying there on the bed,” Joanne interjected, “I tried to tell the nurse up there, but she was quite rude and wouldn’t listen to me at all. I didn’t know what else to do but come and find you or Dixie.”
“I’m glad you did, Joanne. Let me page Dr. Morales. I’ll see what happened during his visit with Johnny. Maybe that’ll give us a clue as to what happened.”
Kelly Brackett strode away to place the page leaving the others to quietly speculate about the situation. Before too long, the doctor rejoined the group.
“According to Dr. Morales, Johnny was fine when he left him.”
“I should never have left him alone so long,” moaned Joanne.
Dixie placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders. “Stop that now. It’s not your fault at all.”
“Let’s go up to his room. We’ll start from there,” as he spoke, Brackett headed for the elevator, “I’ll contact Security too.”
* * *
Johnny sat on the step, his hands pressed against his throbbing head. He’d managed to ascend one flight of stairs in the hope of returning to his room but in the process had tripped up one step. Now, in addition to being miserably cold and having a headache, his chin and cheek were scraped raw where his face had kissed the concrete wall. And he was angry. Angry at himself for being such a coward, and mad as hell at the tormentor who wouldn’t leave him alone.
* * *
Just as the four of them passed the base station the alarm buzzed, signaling an incoming emergency call. Dixie stopped and swung in that direction to answer. Brackett also stopped.
“You go on,” Dixie called over her shoulder, “I’ll get Joe to handle this.”
The doctor hurried to catch up with the DeSotos at the elevator. Soon the trio stood at the door to Room 417. Kelly Brackett opened the door and glanced quickly around the empty room.
“Roy, I don’t think he could have gone far. Not unless he had help.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“I’m surprised that the nurses didn’t see him.”
Here Joanne spoke up. “Dr. Brackett, when I came back to Johnny’s room and discovered him gone, there were no nurses around. When I finally found one, she was terribly unhelpful.”
“I’ll have to get to the bottom of that. First, we need to find our missing paramedic. Let’s take a look around. I’ll start at the south end of the hall.”
“I’ll take the north end.”
* * *
Tony Stone lay sprawled on the couch in the dingy apartment. This hole was a far cry from the more luxurious townhouse he owned, but it was a good place to hide. The television flickered in the corner, tuned to some silly soap opera, but he paid no attention to it. Instead, he focused on the picture he held in front of him. Nearly identical to the one he’d had Ginger deliver to the hospital earlier, this Polaroid showed the fireman from a slightly different angle and highlighted the five burn marks on his stomach. Tony licked his lips as he remembered again the divine pleasure he’d derived from holding the glowing tip of the cigarette against vulnerable flesh. He looked up when Ginger re-entered the dim room.
On stiletto heels, the blonde teetered over to her lover. With less than perfect grace she plopped down next to him, nearly landing in his lap.
“Whatchya doin’, Lover?”
“Admiring my handiwork,” he waved the picture around as he spoke.
Ginger leaned forward pressing her breasts against him, as bold and spicy as her namesake.
Tony felt his body stir. “Baby, you know I do good work.” He kissed her hard. Breaking away, his eyes settled again on the picture. His body tightened further, but it had little to do with where Ginger’s hand was at the moment. Rather, his mind was filled with the screams of pain he brought forth from the runt in the photo. Roughly pulling her on top of him, he grunted.
“Hurry up. I’ve got lots of plans to make. We’ve got another surprise to put together.”
* * *
The dark-haired man sat lost in his somber, brooding thoughts. His body was there in the stairwell, but his mind had drifted back to the long, isolated hours he’d spent in his apartment. So far away was he that he startled badly when a hand dropped on his shoulder. Johnny lashed out with a weak fist.
Roy ducked and grabbed Gage’s hand.
“Easy, partner, easy. It’s me.”
Johnny snapped back to the present.
“Roy?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied as he sat down on the step next to his friend. As he did so, he inspected Johnny’s face. He gestured toward the scrapes, “What happened?”
“I . . . I tripped coming back up the steps.”
Roy watched in concern as a hard shiver raced through his partner’s body. Pushing aside his questions for a few moments, the senior paramedic stood up and grabbed Johnny’s elbow to help bring him to his feet.
“We need to get you back upstairs. I don’t think Brackett’s too thrilled right now.” Roy guided his partner down the flight of stairs and through the door. There he left him for a few moments to locate a wheelchair. “Sit.”
Feeling entirely too weak to argue, the younger man did just sat without a word of protest.
The blond-haired man broke the silence long moments later. “Did something go wrong with Dr. Morales?”
“What?”
“When you talked with Dr. Morales, did something happen?”
“N-no. He was an okay guy.”
“Then why’d you disappear?”
“It . . . it was the picture,” came the low reply.
“Picture? What picture?”
“Someone sent me a card and inside was a picture . . . a Polaroid . . . of me . . . b-b-bound and gagged.”
“What!”
“There was a note too,” Johnny’s voice was now little more than a whisper, “a note saying we weren’t done.”
“Damn it. Who the hell is doing this to you?”
The younger man sighed. “A cop.” As the two completed the journey back to the hospital room, Gage filled in the missing pieces of the puzzle for Roy.
When they finally made it back, Joanne was waiting for them, white-faced and trembling. In her hand was the Polaroid photo she’d found on the floor. She hurried to Johnny’s side the second her husband rolled him through the door and hugged him tightly. Turning to Roy, she silently handed him the photo.
A knot formed in his gut at the image depicted there.
“Jo, can you go have Doc Brackett paged?”
While she left the room to do that, Roy helped his partner settle into the now-dry bed.
“We need to let that detective know.”
Gage nodded his head and leaned back into the pillow, closing his eyes against his still raging headache. The warm blanket felt good against his chilled skin, and he burrowed deeper. The few hours of sleep he’d managed earlier were a distant memory and his exhausted body cried out for more sleep. Johnny felt himself begin to drift, and he quickly opened his eyes and looked at Roy.
“Knowing how I must have looked was bad enough, but seeing it . . . God . . . seeing it was . . . was . . .”
“I wish I knew what to say, Johnny. I . . . uh . . . I can’t even imagine.”
Before DeSoto could continue, Brackett charged into the room with fire in his eye; Joanne followed quietly behind him. To stem the impending tirade, Roy handed the photo to the doctor.
Kelly frowned at the image and swallowed the lecture he’d been about to give. He handed the picture back and walked to the bed and examined the scrapes on his patient’s face. The warmth radiating from the skin beneath his touch told him that Johnny’s fever was still present.
“What happened?”
“I reluctantly made friends with a wall. Doc, I . . . I’m sorry for disappearing like that. I sorta freaked when I saw that picture, I guess.”
“I can understand, Johnny. I don’t like my patients just wandering away, but I can understand. But we need to get those antibiotics going again and your fever is back up. I also want you to get some more sleep.”
Gage sighed, but nodded his head in agreement. He was beyond tired.
“I’ll send a nurse in.”
Brackett lightly squeezed Johnny’s shoulder in support before exiting the room.
“Roy, I need to go get the kids from Mrs. Francis. She has an appointment to get to.” Joanne stepped over to her husband’s partner and gave him a quick peck on his forehead. “You try to get some more sleep and take care of yourself.”
“I’m going to walk Joanne to her car and then call Detective Harris. I’ll be back in a few minutes, all right?”
Johnny smiled slightly at his partner’s worried expression. “Don’t worry. I won’t disappear again. Right now, I don’t think I could move.” As if to prove his point, his eyelids slid shut.
“I’ll be right back.” Placing a hand on Jo’s elbow, Roy escorted her from the room, passing a young nurse in the doorway.
Roy returned ten minutes later to find his partner on the verge of sleep, but still fighting it. The abrasions on his face had been cleaned and the IV restarted. The senior paramedic pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down.
“The detective will be here in a little bit. In the meantime, you can sleep. I’ll be here for awhile and then Mike’s going to come in.”
“This . . . this is sad. A grown man afraid of the dark and afraid to be alone.” Johnny’s voice was just a whisper as he finally gave in and dropped off into a restless sleep.
* * *
It was three more days before Kelly Brackett felt comfortable sending Johnny home. Physically, he was on the mend. A couple of additional sessions with Dr. Morales had helped Johnny regain some emotional equilibrium, though he was still plagued with nightmares and had trouble sleeping. As an unofficial condition to his release, Gage agreed to additional visits to Dr. Morales, though he did so reluctantly. The dark-haired man grinned in relief when he saw his partner walk through the door.
“All right, you’re here! Let’s go.”
“Gee, that’s some hello.” Roy couldn’t help but grin. It was nice seeing his friend a little more upbeat, his normal energy slowly returning.
Johnny had the grace to look a little sheepish. “Sorry. I just want out of here.”
“I see that. Has Dr. Brackett even signed your discharge papers yet?”
“Well . . . no . . . but he should be here any second.”
As if on cue, Dr. Brackett strolled into the room, papers in hand.
“I can see you’re more than ready to leave. I’ve signed the paperwork. Roy, when’s your next shift?”
“Saturday.”
“Johnny, if you start getting some decent regular sleep, you should be able to return to work the shift following that.”
“Ah, c’mon, Doc! That’s five more days!”
Brackett fixed Gage with his best stare. “Yes, and I’d like to see you sleep through the night, or close to it, before then. You won’t function well in your job if you’re not sleeping. You’re seeing Dr. Morales again?”
“Yeah, I have an appointment tomorrow.”
“Good. Then I’ll get out of your way so you gentlemen can leave.”
“I’ll go get a wheelchair.”
“Ahhh, Roy, you don’t have . . .”
“Dixie would have my hide if I didn’t take you out in a wheelchair. You know that.”
“Okay, fine. Hurry up though.”
The blond-haired man just shook his head and left the room. After just a minute or two, he returned with the appropriate conveyance in tow. He barely brought it to a stop before Johnny settled himself in.
With a half-grin, Johnny made a royal wave and said, “Onward, Jeeves.”
Roy chuckled at his partner’s silliness but did exactly as directed.
* * *
Taking a swig from the bottle clutched in his hand, Tony relished the burning sensation as the liquid traveled to his stomach. If his bitch of a mother could see him, she would be yelling that it was too early in the day to drink. She’d screamed that phrase enough at his father. But at the moment Stone didn’t give a damn either about the time of day or about the bitch who sired him. The liquor sloshed once more as he slumped further down in the front seat of the car.
He glanced at his watch for what seemed like the millionth time since he’d pulled into this parking lot. If the silly old crone from the hospital was correct about the man’s release, his target was already late arriving home. With a smirk, Tony looked at the picture taped to the dash board. C’mon, Fireboy, where are you? We’ve got fun times ahead of us. The sound of a car engine made him look up in anticipation. Recognizing the passenger in the car, Tony’s grin widened. The ex-cop started the engine and slowly pulled away. Soon, runt, soon.
* * *
During the fairly short drive to Johnny’s apartment from Rampart, the two paramedics worked hard to keep the conversation fairly lighthearted. Roy was pleased that he managed to make Johnny laugh a little when he shared a couple of anecdotes about Jennifer and Chris. After smoothly parking the car, he walked with his partner up to his apartment. Though he’d told Johnny of the repair work they’d done to his place, he was worried about his friend’s reaction to being back in the apartment.
Johnny slid his key into the lock, pausing a moment when his stomach contracted in dread. He hadn’t counted on reacting this strongly to being back here. Taking a deep breath, Gage turned the key and pushed open the door. No trace of destruction remained. Johnny looked around in astonishment. The paramedic really had no concept of how bad it had been, but he recalled with great clarity the sound of glass shattering time and time again. As the hours had worn on and the heat had climbed, he had also smelled the stench of rotting garbage permeating the apartment. That, combined with the evidence of his body’s weakness, had made breathing through his nose nearly intolerable. Unbearable to the point that he’d felt like he was smothering and choking behind the gag. Reflexively, the dark-haired man gasped as if the foul odors still saturated the apartment.
“Johnny?” Roy lightly touched his partner’s arm, “You okay?”
“Wha? Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I can’t believe you guys did all this for me.” Again his eyes roamed the room, taking in the mismatched, but nearly-new, furniture and the freshly painted walls. The new TV the docs and Dixie had chipped in for sat in the corner.
“Well, we pulled together what we could. It’s not everything but . . .”
“It’s more than I woulda had,” Johnny murmured softly.
“Joanne stocked the fridge and cupboards for you.”
“Tell her thanks for me. For the food . . . and for the curtains.”
“I will. You want me to stay awhile?”
Johnny first thought was to say yes which embarrassed him to no end. “Nah. Go home to your wife and kids. You’ve spent too much time babysitting me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, go home and do something fun. I’ll be okay.”
The blond-haired man hesitated briefly before finally agreeing. “All right. Call if you need anything.”
“I will.”
As soon as he heard the door click shut behind his partner, Gage sank down on the unfamiliar couch. His knees were shaking, and he’d made a great effort to hide that fact from Roy. Complete silence enveloped him; a far cry from the white noise associated with the hospital, even in the dead of night. Unnerved, he jumped up and headed for the room he was dreading seeing the most—the bedroom.
Stepping across that threshold took every bit of strength Johnny possessed. Sweat beaded his forehead. Once in the room, however, he breathed a sigh of relief. As Roy had told him, the bed and bedding was brand new. The carpet had been cleaned and, though they’d not been defaced, the walls bore a new coat of paint. In the middle of the bed there was a small package bearing Johnny’s name. Puzzled, he leaned over picked it up. Seeing that it was Roy’s handwriting, Gage didn’t hesitate to peel away the paper. Inside the box lay a small nightlight and a folded note which read “To hold back the dark”. He pulled away the packaging and plugged the nightlight into a socket. Johnny was sure he’d be needing it later.
* * *
Stone threw open the apartment door and stumbled through the opening. The smell of frying bacon pervaded the room. He hurried to the kitchen where Ginger stood tending the pan on the stove.
“Did you get the rest of the stuff?”
With a kittenish purr, the blonde replied, “Of course.”
“All of it?”
“Sugar, I got every last item on your little list. It’s in a bag in the living room.”
“Good. I’ll put the finishing touches on our little plan as soon as I eat some of that breakfast you got goin’.”
* * *
The rest of the day passed slowly for Johnny Gage. He checked in with Detective Harris, only to hear the same frustrating news. Tony Stone and Ginger Sweet were nowhere to be found. The only other task he accomplished was taking a long, hot shower. Without cleaning and laundry to do, he felt at loose ends. At one point, the paramedic grabbed his keys and went for a drive just to relish the freedom and feel the sunshine. Feeling tired upon his return, Gage heated and ate one of Joanne’s frozen meals and then stretched out on the couch, easily falling asleep. An hour later, he woke in a cold sweat, battling against the urge to throw up as nightmare images plagued him. With a sigh, Johnny sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. Noticing the coming darkness pressing against the windows, he stood up and strolled through the apartment turning on all the lights. His fingers had just left the last light switch when the phone rang.
“Hello.”
Dead silence met his greeting though something told him there was someone on the other end.
A slight sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. “Hello? Is someone there?”
A click signaled the end of the call.
Briefly, Johnny considered calling Roy or maybe even Detective Harris. However, the more he thought about it, the sillier he felt. It was probably just a wrong number. If I call one of them every time that happens, they’ll think I’m losin’ it. Still debating whether he was being paranoid, the lanky paramedic reluctantly replaced the receiver and stood staring at the phone for a few minutes daring it to ring. When it remained silent, some of his tension seeped away. He flipped on the television, settled down on the couch, and prepared for a long night.
* * *
A sparkling dawn greeted the paramedic the next morning. He’d slept in fits and starts and was far from well rested, but Johnny felt an odd sense of pleasure that he’d made it through his first night back at the apartment. It didn’t matter to him that he’d avoided spending the night in his bedroom; he’d tackle that hurdle tonight. Following a good, long stretch of his lean body and a wide yawn, Gage padded to the bathroom for a shower.
Breakfast was a bowl of cereal and several cups of strong, hot coffee while he contemplated exactly what to do for the day. Other than his appointment with the psychiatrist at 10:00 a.m., his day was wide open. Johnny rested his denim-clad hips against the edge of the counter as he finished the last bite of cereal and milk before dropping the bowl into the sink. Deciding that his Land Rover could use a good tune up, he scrounged up an old T-shirt to throw on, grabbed his tool kit and went to work.
* * *
Stone sat in the tiny airless bedroom putting last minute touches on his surprise for John Gage. He would have had this done last night but had allowed himself to be distracted by Ginger’s considerable charms. Tony thought back to the phone call he’d made to Gage just after he went the first round with Ginger. A big grin split his rough-hewn face. He’d heard the fear in that voice. The fear the miserable excuse of a man tried to hide. But, Tony could hear it, almost taste it. It had sent a shiver of excitement through his body and led to some of the best sex he’d ever had. Ah, tonight’s the night, runt! Tonight.
* * *
The dark-haired man sighed and sat back in his chair patting his stomach. He smiled across the table at Joanne.
“Joanne, that was great.”
“Thank you, Johnny. I’m glad you decided to come over for dinner.”
“Well, it didn’t take much deciding. It’s not like Roy had to twist my arm.” Johnny had just been on his way out the door to go to his appointment when Roy called with the invitation to dinner. Eager for company, he’d jumped at the chance and showed up at the DeSoto residence hours early.
“Are you sure you got enough to eat? You didn’t take seconds tonight.”
“Yeah. I got more than enough.”
“Well, we’ll have dessert a little later so you’ll have room for that.”
Johnny flashed a half grin, “Lookin’ forward to it.” He deposited his plate in the sink and went in search of the kids, leaving Roy and Joanne to clean off the table together as they usually did.
“Roy, do you think Johnny’s doing okay? He looks awfully tired.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I wish there was more I could do for him.”
“I do too. I guess all we can do is be here for him if he needs us.”
“I suppose,” Roy frowned, not liking the simplistic answer but knowing that it was true.
The rest of the early evening passed pleasantly. As a treat, dessert was eaten in the family room in front of the television. When Joanne announced bath time for Chris and Jennifer, Johnny decided he’d imposed more than enough on his partner’s family and left for home.
* * *
As full darkness descended, Tony decided it was time to put his plan in action. He dialed the memorized number and waited.
“Hello?”
Tony smiled and hung up the phone.
“Ginger!” he bellowed, “It’s time. You ready?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m ready,” she replied as she emerged from one of the tiny bedrooms.
Stone eyed her from head to toe taking in her skintight black jeans and clingy black blouse. Her luxurious blonde mane was piled atop her head.
“Take your hair down.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I want it that way. Take it down.”
With a sigh, she did as he asked.
“Here. Take these and go open the trunk on that beige Falcon.”
It wasn’t long before the ex-cop slowly placed the smallest, and last, of the three packages in the trunk of the junker he’d stolen that morning. The idiot owner had made it easy by leaving the keys in the ignition.
“Get in. It’s time.” He closed the trunk lid with a thunk.
* * *
One by one all the lights in the apartment were clicked off as Johnny made his way to his bedroom, determined to face the nightmares. With a sigh, he plugged in the nightlight Roy had given him. He wasn’t quite ready to face complete darkness. The dark-haired man climbed between the still-scratchy brand new sheets and rested his head on the pillow. Though still fairly early, Gage was tired, and it wasn’t long before he drifted off to sleep despite his misgivings.
A half hour later, he was torn from sleep by the now familiar night terrors. Great! If this doesn’t stop soon, I’ll never get back to work. Not wanting to force sleep with the dream images so fresh, Johnny figured a glass of milk sounded good. Donning a pair of sweat pants, he left the bedroom.
Gage had just filled a large glass with the thick, cold liquid when the sound of a small explosion filled the apartment.
Running to the window, the paramedic looked out to see a car in the parking lot on fire. Someone was lying not far from the burning vehicle and that person wasn’t moving. Acting on pure instinct, Gage hurriedly called in the emergency and raced out the door. Once he neared the car, he could see that the victim was a woman. She lay face down and was apparently unconscious. Johnny leaned down to check for a pulse and was startled when the victim suddenly rolled over and smiled up at him.
The young paramedic backed away in shock when he recognized her face. Without warning, an arm snaked around his neck and pulled tight.
“I told you we weren’t done yet, Fireboy.”
Johnny watched in astonishment as Ginger picked herself up off the ground and brushed at her clothing. Looking at him, she gave an evil little laugh.
Hot breath brushed his ear as Tony whispered, “Surprised?”
“Yeah, blown away,” Johnny murmured, despite the constricting arm.
That elicited a chuckle from his captor. “Blown away? Not yet, runt. But you will be. Ginger go get one of the packages out of the trunk.”
When she had the package in question, Tony said, “Go put it by the building just like I showed you. Now, Mr. John Gage, you . . . you get to watch as my nice little bomb takes out your apartment along with all those around yours.”
“NO! You can’t do that. They’re innocent people.” Johnny’s voice was a ragged whisper.
“Of course I can. What the fuck do I care if they’re innocent people. I just want to see the look on your face when I destroy your place. And when I’m done here, we’re taking a ride over to your partner’s place. I’ve got a nice little package to deliver to him.”
Sheer terror flooded through Johnny as he stood frozen in place. No! Damn it! No! I’ve got to do something!
Johnny knew he was at an extreme disadvantage and was still contemplating what he could possibly do when the unthinkable happened right before his eyes.
The bomb Ginger was carrying toward the building exploded.
The paramedic lost sight of the horror before him as the force of the blast propelled the two men backward, knocking them off their feet. Though cushioned somewhat because Tony was behind him, Johnny still hit the ground hard and felt the breath rush from his body. The back of his head bounced painfully off the asphalt and he saw stars. Breathless, Gage rolled over and rose to his hands and knees, struggling to stand. Johnny had nearly succeeded when a hand closed around his ankle and pulled him down. Twisting and kicking, he fought unsuccessfully to break the larger man’s hold.
A stream of obscenities gushed from Tony’s mouth as he latched on tightly to the person he now blamed for every wrong in his life. Pulling himself up, he threw his body forward on top of his quarry. Insane rage gave him strength beyond belief, and he lashed out blindly with an iron fist, connecting several times with Johnny’s ribs. One last deliberate punch, was aimed at the fireman’s face.
The dark-haired man lay stunned. The wicked blow had sent him just to the edge of unconsciousness. The muted wail of approaching sirens barely registered as he concentrated on the figure now standing and yelling above him.
“YOUR PARTNER’S A GONER! YOU HEAR ME, RUNT! A GONER!” As a final insult, Tony Stone spit on the man lying at his feet and raced for his vehicle.
Johnny lost the battle to stay awake, and he slipped away hearing those words echo ceaselessly in his head.
* * *
He became aware of the buzzing first. Sounding much like a live electrical wire, the sound reverberated endlessly within the confines of his skull. Slowly, the buzzing in his ears coalesced into somewhat intelligible sounds, then words. With monumental effort, Johnny slowly managed to pry his eyelids open. Blinking against the bright light, he groaned at the drumbeat echoing in his head.
“Welcome back.” Mike Morton drew Johnny’s attention.
“B-b-back?”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Y-y-yeah. Rampart . . . Again.”
“Can you tell me your name?”
“J-John Gage. Man, my head’s killing me.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
It took just a few seconds for everything that had happened in the apartment parking lot to come roaring back. From the explosions, to the fight, to his tormentor’s last words. Gage’s face went sheet white.
“Shit! Roy!” Johnny lunged upward, crying out in pain.
Morton reached out and tried to urge the dark-haired man to lie back down. “Whoa. Take it easy.”
“NO! NO, you don’t understand.” The paramedic continued to struggle to get off the exam table.
“Gage, lie back down . . .”
“Can’t. Let me go. Gotta warn Roy.” His breath came in quick pants now as adrenalin kicked in. Johnny grabbed at Morton’s wrists and pushed, trying to force him away. “Damn it. Let go!” Panic lent him strength.
“Nurse! Get Dr. Brackett.” Sweat glistened on Morton’s face as he continued to grapple with John. “Gage, you have to calm down.”
Hoping to take Morton by surprise, the dark-haired paramedic let go of his arms and rolled on his side trying to slip off the table. A guttural groan forced its way past his lips.
The door to the treatment room flew open and Brackett rushed into the room and immediately came to Morton’s aid. Dixie followed closely behind.
“Mike?”
“I can’t get him calmed down. He’s yelling for Roy.”
“Johnny, it’s Doctor Brackett. I want you to calm down.”
There was no discernable change in the younger man’s behavior which now bordered on hysteria.
“John. If you don’t settle down, I’m going to have to either sedate you or restrain you, and I don’t want to do either.”
Brackett’s raised voice finally got through to his patient. Johnny stopped struggling, but tightly grabbed a hold of the doctor’s coat.
“Doc . . . please . . . warn Roy. There’s a . . . a bomb,” the dark-haired man gaspingly pleaded.
“Listen to me,” the doctor gently pushed his patient down on the table, “Roy is fine. He’s outside waiting to see you.”
Johnny’s eyes were dark with torment in his bruised and ashen face. “T-t-then Joanne. W-warn her.” He made a weak move as if to sit up again but was restrained.
“Dix, can you ask Roy to step in here.”
A few moments later the door opened once more and Roy entered the room in front of the head nurse.
“Hey, partner.”
“Roy! Call . . . call Joanne. He’s got a bomb.”
“Johnny . . .”
“Now, Roy. You gotta call now!”
“Johnny, it’s okay. It’s over.”
“Over? No . . . no. He’s going to your house.”
“Listen to me, Junior,” Roy unknowingly repeated Brackett’s earlier demand, “It’s over.”
“How?”
“He smashed the car he was driving into an abutment. One of the cops who responded to the accident recognized him and notified Detective Harris. When Harris couldn’t reach you, he called me. I’d just heard from Dixie, and I told him you’d been brought to Rampart.”
“It’s not over. He’ll just keep coming after me.”
“I doubt it.”
“You . . . you didn’t see his eyes, Roy. He’ll never stop.”
“I was listening to the call, Johnny. It took them an hour to get him out of wreck. They’re bringing him in now. Signs indicate he may be paralyzed. He’s also burned over 20% of his body. It’s possible he might not even make it.”
Gage was silent as he digested this last piece of information. One lone tear trailed its way down his face.
“I’m sorry, Roy. I put you and your family in danger. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t stop him. God, I tried. I should never have started this. Minded my own business . . .”
“You didn’t start anything. You did what was right. What any decent person would do.”
The younger paramedic sighed but remained silent.
“Look, I’m going to get out of the way so the doctors can finish treating you. I’ll come back as soon as they’re done, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Roy paused in the doorway, looking back at his partner in concern. The road to recovery after this was going to be a long one.
Detective Harris was just coming down the hall toward him when Roy walked out of the treatment room.
“Detective?” The blond-haired paramedic tilted his head in inquiry.
“He’s still alive.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“If he lives? He’ll be arrested for going after your partner. There’s a laundry list of charges relating to that alone. I need to talk to Mr. Gage to find out exactly what went on tonight too. But, Stone’s also in for a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
“Yes. Your partner actually did us a favor by reporting him. Once we started investigating, we discovered a lot of bad stuff. That’s why he was fired outright and not just suspended. We’re now re-opening the investigation into his mother’s death a couple of years ago. At the time, it was ruled an accident, but we’re beginning to suspect he may have murdered her.”
Roy stared at the detective in shock. “How . . . how did someone like this become a policeman in the first place?”
“He was very good at leading a double life. There were a few other people, including some fellow cops, who saw some questionable things on occasion. But, they were all too afraid to come forward. It took your partner’s bravery in reporting him to bring this to an end.”
“Bravery? Yeah, he did the right thing,” Roy worriedly looked over at the closed door of Treatment Room 2 where his partner was being treated, “but at what cost.”
* * * The End * * *
Author’s Note: I owe a tremendous amount of thanks to Audrey for both her patience and for her beta reading as I wrote various parts.
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