Part 2

From Johnny’s point of view, the two days off were uneventful and somewhat boring, even with Terri’s company much of the time. He found it easy to keep his promise to Dr. Brackett and Roy about taking it easy: he was too tired to do much of anything, but not tired enough to sleep all day. Eventually he concluded that something had to be wrong with him, despite Dr. Brackett’s test results. To Terri, the days with Johnny made a fascinating case study. She observed him become progressively more sluggish, tired, and irritable. She watched him try to shake off his fatigue with activity, to no avail.

Sunday evening, she watched him from a distance as he headed out to the barn to check on his horses. She stayed out of sight as he climbed up the ladder to the loft and tossed down a bail of hay. She smiled privately when he was apparently hit with a wave of dizziness as he started to descend. She stared as he closed his eyes. She didn’t move to help as he overbalanced and fell the last few feet. He landed hard on his shoulder and scraped his arm on the currycomb sticking out of the tack box on the floor of the barn. Terri felt her own jolt as Johnny’s pain flashed across his face. She quietly returned to the house as he cursed his clumsiness.

Dammit. What’s the matter with you, Gage? He finally faced the fact that he probably was getting sick again, and the thought irritated him. Everything aggravated him. Why didn’t Brackett figure out what’s wrong with me? He was mad that he hadn’t put the tack box farther from the ladder. Stupid place for a tack box. Stupid to leave the currycomb sticking up. Stupid to fall off a damn ladder in my own damn barn. His horses nickered at the promise of the sweet-smelling hay. Their adoration helped soften his mood slightly, and he rubbed their soft velvety noses tenderly. Stupid horses. He gave them each an extra handful of oats and a kiss before he left the barn.

He walked slowly and carefully to the house, rubbing his shoulder. Terri ran up to him, looking shocked. “Johnny what happened? Come into the kitchen. Let me take a look.”

“I fell. Can you believe it? I fell off the damn ladder. I’ve laid around doing nothing for two days, and I’m still so tired I fell. Maybe there is something wrong with me. God, Terri, I ache all over. This shouldn’t hurt this much; I get banged up all the time at work and it doesn’t hurt like this.”

Terri gently held him in her arms and spoke soothing words. “It’s not your fault. It was just a silly accident. This could happen to anyone, Johnny. Listen, if I didn’t trust Dr. Brackett, I’d take you back to Rampart myself for a second opinion. But, he did all those tests, right?” She tried to placate him. She couldn’t have him running back to the hospital just yet.

“Yeah, I’m just overreacting. That’s just it. I’m overreacting to everything. I’ve been so mad sometimes lately I think I’ll explode. I don’t know how you can stand to be around me. I can’t even stand to be around me. Roy’s probably ready for a new partner. Terri, I’m sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. Right now I just want to go to bed and sleep.”

Terri gently cleaned up his arm and placed some bandages on his scrapes. “You just go lay down on the couch and I’ll make you a little dinner, then you can take a hot bath and go to bed. Sound good? I’ll even give you a massage. Okay?”

Johnny looked at the amazing woman who had somehow come into his life. He pulled her close. “What would I do without you?”

During dinner, Johnny got another small dose of the barbiturates, and he got his first dose of the anticoagulant she had successfully smuggled out of the hospital. It was all so easy, really, when one knew the system. The real excitement would start tomorrow, with the second dose of coumarin and a large dose of aspirin. She would be able to mask the bitter taste of the drugs in something sweet; something he wouldn’t be able to resist. He would start to bleed internally, especially if he got bumped. She would play the part of the distraught girlfriend so well, struggling to save her beloved Johnny.

And it would all happen right in front of the medical experts. The experts who had kept her from becoming a doctor.

*****

Terri woke up very early. She crept down the stairs and into the kitchen, although she knew Johnny would be sleeping soundly until she roused him. She mixed the dough thoroughly and began to knead it, her eyes wandering to the pills she had laid out on the counter. She rolled the dough out flat and brushed on the melted butter. The kitchen began to warm up as the oven preheated. Terri ground the aspirin and coumarin to a fine powder before mixing it with the dark brown sugar. She spread the potent mixture evenly on the smooth white dough before sprinkling the strong cinnamon on top. She rolled and cut the cinnamon rolls, then ceremoniously placed them on the baking sheet. They had to be perfect.

Terri awakened Johnny with a kiss, and whispered in his ear, “I made you something special.” Then, she left for work, knowing she would see him in the afternoon. Johnny smiled as the pleasantly domestic smell of homemade cinnamon rolls wafted into the room, mingling with the scent of Terri’s perfume.

*****

Johnny’s drive to work had never seemed longer. Someone even honked at him while he sat through a green light. The extra cup of coffee Johnny had downed on the way out the door that morning did little to clear the cobwebs in his mind. He wondered in passing if Terri had switched to decaf and hadn’t told him. Maybe the coffee in the thermos is stronger.

*****

7:45 a.m.

Johnny stiffly removed his shirt and started to put on his uniform. Marco noticed the ugly purple bruise covering much of Johnny’s shoulder. “Johnny, that’s some bruise you got there. What happened?”

“I fell.” He looked at the bandage on his forearm. “Got my arm pretty good too. Didn’t need any stitches, though. Hope your days off were better than mine.” He gingerly put his arm in his sleeve and fumbled with the buttons.

“What’d ya do, Gage, trip over your feet?”

Johnny stopped buttoning his shirt and stared at Chet tiredly. “Yeah, Chet, that’s what I did. I tripped over my own feet. There. You happy?” He slammed his locker and left the locker room, his shirt still untucked in the back.

“Well, how do ya like that?” Chet looked incredulous. “That wasn’t any fun. He just rolled right over.”

Marco finished buttoning his shirt. “I don’t know, Chet, but you might just want to take it easy on Johnny today.”

“He probably did trip over his feet. That’s why it struck a nerve.”

Marco closed his locker. “Whatever. Just do us all a favor and give him some space, okay?”

“Hmph,” Chet muttered. “People need to lighten up around here.”

*****

9:00 a.m.

Johnny found he could not concentrate. He thought the sugar in those wonderful cinnamon rolls Terri had made for him would have helped rouse him, but he felt himself being dragged further and further down. If he could just lay down for a few--

“Gage, am I boring you?” Johnny’s head snapped up. All eyes were on him, with Captain Stanley’s eyes the most piercing. If looks could kill.

“Huh? Uh, no, Cap. Sorry. Can’t seem to wake up this morning.”

“Well, I’m sure I can find something to wake you up as soon as we’re done here.” Cap noticed that his little barb got no reaction from the unusually lethargic man. He gained brief eye contact with Roy before continuing, but Roy looked as uneasy as he felt.

*****

10:00 a.m.

Captain Stanley decided to spare Johnny the “latrine-with-a-toothbrush” detail, a punishment which had crossed his mind when he first caught the man nodding off during his summary of the latest protocol changes. Despite what Roy had told him about the tests that Dr. Brackett had run on Saturday, Hank still felt there might be something physical behind the changes in Johnny’s energy level. Johnny had snapped at everyone within the first five minutes of the day, and they were all now giving him a wide berth.

Johnny went through the motions of mopping the dayroom with effort. He fumbled with the mop and pail. He was irritated with how long it took him to do the simplest things. He just wanted this shift to be over, and it had barely started. He tried not to watch the time.

*****

Terri, on the other hand, watched the clock closely, entertaining herself by guessing the combination of symptoms Johnny would be experiencing. She knew he would be actively fighting the increasing drowsiness, that he'd be a little more uncoordinated, probably slightly confused. The internal bleeding from the coumarin would start soon, especially if he got jostled. With his line of work, that was practically a given. She regretted not being able to witness his eventual downfall, but she knew she’d see him soon. The bleeding would accelerate dramatically after lunch, when the large aspirin dose would kick in. She basked in the assurance that she would be seeing Johnny later, and would join him on center stage.

*****

10:45 a.m.

Johnny swallowed a couple aspirin to help ease his headache and the soreness in his shoulder. He headed to the coffeepot and saw that it was empty, but he had neither the energy nor the inclination to make a new pot. Instead, he stepped outside, hoping that some fresh air would help him shake off the sluggishness and nausea that were steadily dragging him down. If he had been thinking more clearly, he would have known to go home. And, if he hadn’t been so grouchy, his friends might have stayed around him long enough to discover how sick he really was. Chet and Marco were playing two-on-two basketball against Roy and Mike in the back parking lot, Captain Stanley leaning against the brick building watching.

“Hey, Gage! Think fast!” Chet flung the ball to Johnny.

The ball caught Johnny in the mid-chest before Chet’s words even registered in his clouded brain. He fell back into Captain Stanley with an audible, “Ugh!”

“Whoa, there.” The captain helped Johnny straighten back up and clapped him on the shoulder for encouragement. “This just isn’t turning out to be your day, is it, Pal?”

Roy hadn’t seen the pain on Johnny’s face when the ball hit, but he did notice him wince when Cap whacked him on the shoulder. He was beginning to think Johnny was feeling more than just a headache and fatigue.

Chet trotted over after the ball. “Sorry, man, you okay?”

Johnny’s voice conveyed his level of irritation. “Jeez, Chet, do you think you could have thrown it a little harder? I’m not a damn bowling pin!”

Chet smirked, seeing that Johnny was okay. “I told you to think fast! Guess I forgot who I was talking to!” He grabbed the ball and passed it to Marco, who successfully completed a lay-up as Johnny walked to his truck to get his thermos of coffee. It seemed easier than making a new pot, and he really needed something. With a final glower at Chet, he returned to the day room to sit down and hope for the caffeine to offset his almost overwhelming fatigue.

*****

1:25 p.m.

Roy drove the squad back to the station. Johnny’s unnatural silence and lack of movement had been making him uneasy, and he kept glancing over at his partner.

Johnny leaned his head back in the squad and closed his eyes, resting. All his joints ached, along with his head. The aspirin he had taken for the pain had done nothing to help, and now he was beginning to feel queasier. Man, I cannot be getting the flu again. “Roy, do you hear a ringing sound?”

Roy thought Johnny seemed to be breathing fast. “A ringing sound? No…” He turned to his partner, who was beginning to look flushed. “I know I keep asking you this, but are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?” The ringing in Johnny's ears was becoming a real distraction. His head was starting to spin, and he was definitely nauseated. “Man, it’s hot in here. I need some air. Maybe some water. I’m really thirsty.” He rolled his window down.

“Maybe you should head home.” Roy noticed the perspiration now forming on Johnny’s face.

“Home? Yeah, maybe… I’m not sure I’m up to this run. What was it again?” Johnny looked around, puzzled to see they were pulling in to the station. “What are you doin’? Why are we back here? Roy, we got a call. I’ve got the slip right here.” He searched for the piece of paper.
 

Roy looked at his confused partner with mounting concern, shifting the squad into Park. “What are you talking about Johnny? It was a false alarm. We just got called back. Remember?”

Johnny looked at Roy as if to make sure he’d heard him right. “Called back? Are you sure?” He was certain he would have remembered that. He began to breathe harder, and he rubbed his chest. “Roy, I don’t feel so good.”

“You don’t look so good either,” Roy agreed. “Let’s get you inside.”

“What’s happening, Roy? I feel really weird. I think I’m tastin’ blood.”

Roy felt his own pulse quicken as he opened his door. “I don’t know, Johnny. Come on, let’s check you out. Wait for me to come around.” Roy hurried in front of the squad to the other side of the vehicle. He saw Johnny start to fumble with his door. “Johnny, wait--”

Johnny didn’t seem to hear Roy as he started to get out of the squad, and he was hit with a wave of vertigo. His cheek slammed against the door as he tried to grab onto something to help steady him in the spinning room. Arm flailing, he fell to the floor. He cried out in pain and confusion as he writhed on the cold floor, unable to sit up.

“Cap, I need a hand here!” The urgency in Roy’s voice brought the whole crew running.

Johnny heard voices, but he couldn’t answer. His throat burned. His chest felt tight, and he found it increasingly hard to catch his breath. He could taste the blood in his mouth, but couldn’t make sense of his surroundings. He saw the blur of familiar faces in front of him, and felt himself lifted up and carried. He struggled to hear over the ringing in his ears and the rushing sound that threatened to overtake him. He made out Chet’s voice through the haze.

“Roy, where’s this blood coming from?” The light bandage on Johnny’s arm had become saturated with blood, and it had smeared on Chet’s light blue shirt.

Captain Stanley called in the Code I, and requested an ambulance. “Ambulance is on the way, Roy.”

“Mike, get Rampart on the horn.” Chet and Marco were already bringing in the gear from the squad.

Mike ran to the phone and called Rampart’s Base Station. “Rampart, this is Squad 51.”

“Go ahead, 51.” Mike was relieved to hear Dr. Brackett’s voice on the other end of the phone.

“Rampart, we have a male victim, age 30, who has suffered a collapse. Be advised the victim is John Gage. Stand by for vitals.”

Roy was taking Johnny’s vitals quickly, having no clue to what would have caused his sudden deterioration. Johnny began to cough violently, spraying Roy’s shirt and arms with bright red, frothy blood. “Get him on his side! Quick!”

Marco’s hands shook as he helped roll Johnny onto his side to prevent him from choking on his own blood.

When the coughing finally subsided, Johnny let out a low moan. “Roy…” he whispered through his bloody lips. His eyes held the look of an animal hovering at the edge of death, pleading for help. Roy’s heart skipped a beat and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

Roy worked to maintain a façade of calm. “Right here, Johnny. Chet, get some oxygen on him, high flow. Keep him on his side. Take it easy, Johnny, an ambulance is on the way. Where do you hurt?”

“Everywhere...joints.” He was almost panting and he closed his eyes. “Feel like… I’ve been beat… with a stick.”

Roy could tell Johnny had a fever, but this wasn’t any common flu, and this certainly had nothing to do with his concussion. He cut Johnny’s shirt and undershirt open, and suppressed a gasp at the fresh bruising that covered most of his chest.

The remaining color drained from Chet’s face. “Roy…”

“Good Lord,” Cap muttered under his breath. “When did that happen?”

Chet felt a wave of guilt. “God, that’s not from the basketball, is it?”

Marco spoke up. “Roy, his right shoulder is really bruised, too. We saw it this morning. He said he fell, and that that’s when he scraped his arm.”

Roy processed the information, trying to make sense of the odd symptoms. He saw the bruise rapidly spreading across Johnny’s cheek. It didn’t add up. His arm hadn’t bled all day; it shouldn’t be starting now.

Roy moved to where he could see Johnny’s face better. “Johnny, you’ve got a lot of bruising. Do you know what that’s from?”

Johnny’s pain-filled eyes cracked open briefly, then he responded with a strangled sound as his body started to shake. Roy hovered protectively while the seemingly endless spasm wracked Johnny’s body. Great. Just Great.

Roy wiped sweat from his own forehead. He needed to update Rampart on Johnny’s condition and get him to a hospital. “Marco, Chet, watch him close. Be ready to get that mask off him fast if he starts coughing up more blood.” They silently nodded.

Roy moved over to the phone. “Rampart, victim's BP is 90 over 60. Heart rate is 130 and irregular. Respirations are 30 and labored. Victim is diaphoretic, and has coughed up a large amount of blood. He has widespread bruising across his chest and right shoulder, and is bleeding from a superficial wound to the right forearm, sustained yesterday or the day before.”

Roy grimaced as the violent coughing began again. Chet wiped blood off Johnny’s mouth before replacing the mask. Roy steadied himself and continued. “Victim reported tasting blood before his collapse, and reported pain in his joints. We have positioned him on his left side, and have started him on oxygen. Victim has had one convulsion, lasting about 45 seconds, and he is unconscious at this time. Uh, he has been complaining of fatigue and headache for several days.”

“51, start one IV of Ringer's lactate, wide open, and administer 5 mg of diazepam, IV. Set up a cardiac monitor, keep him on his side, and continue with the oxygen. Transport as soon as possible. Monitor vitals every 5 minutes.”

*****

1:35 p.m.

Terri had been keeping her eye on the staff around the Base Station for the past hour and a half, waiting for the call to come in. She knew just when it happened by the worried expressions on Dixie and Dr. Brackett.

Dixie emerged from the Base Station and took Terri by the arm. She steered her over to the nurses’ station. “What’s up, Dixie?” she asked with feigned innocence.

Dixie looked in the young nurse’s eyes, and decided that being direct was the best way to proceed. “Terri, I don’t know how to say this, but here goes. That was 51. Johnny collapsed at the station and they’re bringing him in.”

Terri pretended to steady herself with the counter. “Collapsed? Like heat exhaustion again? Dixie…” She made sure to breathe a little faster, and use a slightly higher pitch in her expertly quavering voice.

“We don’t know what caused it, but Dr. Brackett thinks it’s most likely an infection of some sort. He’s in pretty rough shape, Terri. He’s coughing up blood and has had one convulsion. We’ll know more when he gets here. I’m going to need to ask you to--”

“Dixie, you can’t ask me to stay out. You know that. I can handle this. I need to be there.”

“Terri, you can be there, but you need to stay out of the way, or I’ll have to ask you to wait outside.”

“Okay,” Terri nodded quickly. Her heart leaped. That had been easier than she’d dreamed. Dixie must really be rattled.

*****

Terri felt an almost electrical surge throughout her body when the gurney carrying Johnny blasted through the emergency room doors. She knew that Johnny had had another convulsion during transport, and that he had gone into respiratory arrest. Roy held the resuscitator mask on Johnny’s face, forcing air into the younger man's lungs as he lay on his side. An ambulance attendant followed, holding the IV bags, the blood on his white uniform particularly dramatic.

Terri rushed into the treatment room and produced a heart-wrenching gasp, relishing her part as the anguished girlfriend. “Johnny…” Then, she moved out of the way, where she could observe without being escorted out. She stood beside Roy as the ambulance attendant left the room. Terri could feel the tension radiating from Roy, and she fed on his anxiety. She wanted to position herself where she could see Johnny’s face, but the treatment team crowded around him and blocked most of her view.

Terri got an adrenaline rush as she caught glimpses of Dr. Brackett intubating Johnny and putting him on a ventilator. He was unconscious. Critical. Struggling to survive. And, it was all her doing. She heard Dr. Brackett order all the tests she knew he would. Blood cultures, complete blood count, electrolytes, urinalysis, arterial blood gas, coagulation screen to check his clotting factors… Perfect. He was looking for an infection. If only the invincible Dr. Brackett knew who was really running the show.

Dr. Brackett’s sharp instructions to a nurse brought her back to the present. “Tell the lab I want these results stat.”

“Yes, Doctor,” the nurse answered as she left the room with the specimens.

*****

Gradually, the mood in the room began to improve slightly as Johnny’s vitals began to stabilize. Dr. Brackett stared at the motionless young man in front of him, listening to the reassuring cycles of the ventilator and beeps from the monitor. What did I miss the other day? He looked at the smear of blood on his own lab coat and shook his head. “Dixie, when those lab results come in, I want to be paged. And, I want him monitored very closely. We’ve had enough surprises.” To himself, he added, I’ve already let him down once.

“Sure thing, Kel.” Dixie walked up to Roy and Terri, who still stood by the wall near the door, and she motioned them into the hall. “Roy, you need to go get cleaned up and try to relax. I’m sure there are some very anxious firefighters who would like an update. We’ll take good care of him.”

Roy nodded silently, his fear written clearly across his features as he stared at Johnny. This was always the hardest time. The flurry of activity was over for the moment, and the waiting began. Dead time, he thought ironically. He took one step closer to Johnny and hesitated, torn between his instinct to reassure Johnny with physical contact, and his apprehension that he himself might lose the tenuous hold on his emotions if he did.

Dixie sensed his uncertainty, and she placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’ll be with him. I want to get him cleaned up a little anyway.” Roy nodded again and left the room.

Dixie looked at Terri, who still stood near the door. “Terri,” Dixie smiled gently at the nurse, “I’d like you to go wait in the lounge. Is there anyone you want to call?”

Terri allowed tears to well up in her eyes. She bit her lip tensely, and silently shook her head, playing the part so well. “Please, Dixie, let me stay.”

“If you’re up to it, I suppose it won’t hurt.” She very gently began to wipe up the blood that had dried on Johnny’s neck and chest. She didn’t dare show Terri how hard this was for her. She quietly said, “He’s lucky to have you, Terri. He’s a very special guy.”

“He certainly is, Dixie.” Terri grabbed a tissue from the box and dabbed her eyes. He certainly is.

*****

After washing Johnny’s blood off his hands and arms, Roy went to the E.R. Nurses’ Station to use the phone. Part of him dreaded making the call to Joanne, but he needed to hear her voice. He kept the phone call as brief as possible, not wanting to scare her. He just told her Johnny was sick but stable, wishing to himself that it were that simple. He knew she didn’t really fall for it, but she didn’t press him over the phone. He’d be able to fill her in when he knew more.

Roy knew the call to the station would not be that easy.

Captain Stanley answered the phone on the first ring.

“Cap, it’s Roy. Uh, Johnny’s more stable.”

“That’s good news, right?”

After a short pause, Roy continued. “Yeah.”

“But…”

“But he’s unconscious and on a ventilator. He had another convulsion on the way in, even with the diazepam, and he stopped breathing. By the time we got him here, he’d coughed up so much blood they may end up giving him a transfusion.” Roy hated how clinical it sounded, but that was the only way he could make himself say it.

“Roy, do they know what's wrong with him?”

“They don't know yet. They think it must be some kind of infection, but they won’t know much more until the lab results start coming in. Dr. Brackett is running about every test there is to run. It looks like septic shock.”

"Septic shock? Damn. Listen, Roy, Gary Snyder’s coming in for Johnny, but I can’t find a replacement for you, yet. I’m gonna need you back when Snyder gets here. I’ll send him in with the squad and a clean uniform for you. You can stay at Rampart until you get a call. Just keep us informed, will ya?" When Roy didn’t answer, Hank wasn’t sure if he was still on the line. “Roy, you still there?”

A very quiet voice responded. “Yeah. Uh, Cap… he’s really sick.” Roy’s voice cracked slightly.

Hank closed his eyes and leaned his back against the wall as he processed the unspoken message. “I know, pal. I know.”

The dial tone droned in Roy's ear several seconds before he hung up the phone. He sat on the stool in a heap, looking around for a familiar face, but Terri and Dixie were both still in with Johnny. How would he face Terri? This had all happened right in front of him, and he now knew he should have taken Johnny in right at the beginning of the shift. Johnny never fell asleep on the job. Why had he discounted it? Would his own error in judgment cost Johnny his life? His self-reproach was surpassed only by his concern for his friend.

Roy stood up anxiously when Terri finally emerged from Johnny’s room.

"Roy?" Terri's voice was barely above a whisper. "He looks so vulnerable, Roy. What am I going to do if he…doesn’t…?" She sat down and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Her performance was worthy of an Academy Award.

Roy felt very awkward. It was hard enough to keep his own emotions in check, let alone find himself in a position to comfort a woman whom he hardly knew. He searched the halls for someone who might be able to console Terri. He saw no one, so he tried to lighten the mood with optimism.

"Terri, I've known Johnny a long time. He'll pull through this." He tried to convince himself as much as anyone.

"But, they don't even know what's wrong.” Terri sniffled and wiped her eyes. “We always think doctors know everything, but they don't. Sometimes they don't know what's wrong until it's too late." She looked up at Roy through her seemingly tortured eyes. "I don't want to lose him, Roy. He has to get better. Why didn't I see this coming? He's been really tired, but Dr. Brackett gave him a clean bill of health just two days ago. How could he have missed this?"

Dixie walked up behind them. "If I know Kelly Brackett, I'm sure he’ll want to know the same thing. There’s really nothing more I can tell you, Roy, until Dr. Brackett gets those lab results back. As you know, his symptoms point to possible septic shock, but we won't know more about a cause until the blood cultures come back...."

Roy finished the thought. “…And that could take a while.”

“Right now we’re getting him ready to move up to I.C.U. You can wait up there if you like.”

Terri stood up and raised her chin. “I’m staying by Johnny’s side.”

*****

When Snyder finally arrived, Roy changed into his fresh uniform while his temporary partner went to fill the drug box and take it to the squad. Snyder returned with two cups of coffee and joined Roy in the notoriously uncomfortable ICU waiting area. Roy quickly put his coffee down and stood up anxiously when he saw Dr. Brackett coming up the hall, but he couldn’t read his expression. Dr. Brackett stopped by Johnny’s room and motioned for Terri to join him before he approached Roy.

“The chest X-rays revealed plenty of fluid in his lungs, which is no surprise based on the amount of blood he coughed up. The preliminary lab results are consistent with an infection of some sort. There are a few more labs I want to run, but I’ve got him started on penicillin in case it’s bacterial. I’ve ordered some Vitamin K treatments to bring his clotting factors back in line, and we’re going to start a transfusion.”

“But, you still don’t know what’s causing this?” Terri asked tentatively, carefully hiding her true motive for the question.

Dr. Brackett grimaced slightly. “Nothing’s shown up on the blood cultures yet, but it’s still very early. If the infection is bacterial in nature, the penicillin should help combat it; if it’s viral, I’m afraid he may get worse before he gets better. Right now, he’s holding his own. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing and monitor him very closely. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Can I go see him a minute?” Roy asked.

“I’m going to go examine him, and you can come in when I’m finished.”

Terri started follow Dr. Brackett into Johnny’s room, but he stopped in the doorway. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Although she privately seethed at what she viewed as arrogance, she smiled sweetly. “Yes, of course, Dr. Brackett.”

Dixie sensed that Roy needed to see Johnny alone, so she took Terri with her to get some coffee.

*****

Roy stood by Johnny’s bed, looking at his friend. Although he was now cleaned up, Roy still couldn’t look at Johnny without envisioning the violent coughing and convulsions that had brought the man here. I feel like I’ve been beat with a stick. Roy… Johnny’s last words echoed in his mind. He was glad to finally have a moment alone with his friend. Terri had been with Johnny almost every moment since he entered the hospital. Roy wanted to be happy Johnny had found Terri, but found that her recent omnipresence made him feel like an intruder. He briefly felt guilty for thinking about himself. He pushed the thoughts from his mind. These were feelings he would only be able to share with Joanne. He needed the comfort of her arms, her soothing words, her emotional support. It seemed like it would be an eternity before he would finally get to see her again.

Roy ventured to gently touch Johnny’s arm. “Get better,” he whispered.

Snyder poked his head in the door. “Roy, we got a run.”

*****

Despite the late hour of the day and the warehouse fire they had fought for several hours, the men of 51s ate very little when they finally sat down for dinner. Talk was limited and the mood was somber. Roy leaped from his chair when the phone rang, and he picked it up on the second ring.

“Oh, hi, Honey. No, we haven’t heard from the hospital. Can I call you right back from the dorm? Yeah. Love you. Talk to you in a minute. Bye.” Roy let out a tense sigh and headed back to call his wife in private. It was time to unload a little.

As soon as he left the room, Chet spoke up with a very worried tone. “It’s got to be bad if Roy’s this jumpy.” Chet was obviously still very shaken up by the scene earlier in the day. “I couldn’t believe all the blood. He just kept coughing up more and more. I’ve never seen anything like that.” He shuddered as he pushed more of his food around his plate. He finally gave up and laid his fork down.

“I have,” Mike said quietly. All eyes turned to him. “Not in a person, though.”

“What do you mean, Mike?” Hank inquired.

“I had a dog when I was a kid. I knew at the time I’d never forget it. I was right. He got into some rat poison. He coughed up blood like that before he…” Mike didn’t complete the sentence.

“Before he…died?” Chet questioned, his fear evident in his voice.

Mike just nodded, regretting that he’d spoken up at all.

Chet looked at the others in the room for reassurance. “Well, at least we know Johnny hasn’t been in to any rat poison. Right, guys?”

*****

By mid-morning, the I.C.U. waiting room was full. Hank, Chet, Mike, and Marco gathered around Roy, waiting for an update. Other off-duty firefighters had trickled through all morning to offer their support. Terri stood right outside Johnny’s room while Dr. Brackett examined him again.

The doctor joined the men, with Terri at his side. “Well, he’s no worse. The most recent blood work shows his hematocrit and clotting factors are greatly improved. His lungs sound better, too. Remarkably better. His fever is down a little, but his blood work is still indicating that he’s fighting an infection of some sort.”

“So, the penicillin is working?” Roy asked, sounding hopeful.

“So it would seem… but nothing’s showing up on his blood cultures yet.”

Chet spoke up. “Doc, what kind of infection could make a guy cough up blood like that? Mike here said he had a dog do that once from poison.”

Terri’s heart began to race, and she could feel her face heating up. “Poison?”

Dr. Brackett and Roy looked at the quiet engineer for clarification.

“Rat poison,” Mike said simply.

“Rat poison? Roy, were you on any runs where Johnny could have been exposed to some toxic substances? Do you know if he uses poisons around his ranch? Or has he been anywhere recently where he might have been exposed to some sort of toxins?”

Roy shook his head. “I can’t think of anything, but I’ll try. He has cats for rodent control at his place. He’s always been paranoid about the kids or anybody’s pets getting into any pesticides. He doesn’t even use weed killer.”

“Well, to cover all our bases, I’ll order up a toxicology screen, and check his salicylate levels, too. It could explain some of his bleeding. I’ll be in the library,” Dr. Brackett said as he started to leave.

Terri regained her inner composure enough to throw them another red herring. “Dr. Brackett? This is probably nothing, but, after you checked Johnny out the other day and didn’t find anything wrong, Johnny picked up a bunch of vitamins at a health-food store,” she lied. “He thought maybe he was run down because he hadn’t been eating right.”

Dr. Brackett considered what she said. “Would you happen to be able to get to those bottles and bring them in? I guess it’s possible that they were tampered with. I don’t want to discount any possibility.”

“I hate to leave Johnny, but if it will help, I’ll go right now.”

“Do you want someone to drive you?” Roy offered.

“No, thanks.” Terri dabbed her eyes and sniffed. “I think I need to be alone for a little while, and I need to change out of this uniform anyway, and I’m sure I look like a wreck.” She smiled. “I don’t want to scare Johnny when he does wake up. Thanks, though, Roy. I can see why you and Johnny are such good friends. I’d like to have a few minute with him alone, before I leave, if you don’t mind.”

Roy nodded, and went to call Joanne. He hoped she would be able to join him soon. He really needed her there.

*****

Terri was pleased when the young woman came so quickly to collect the samples for the lab, and she was not about to let the opportunity pass her by. N. Hallman, she read on the name badge. N is most likely for Nancy…

“Nancy… it’s Nancy isn’t it? Thank you so much. Did Dr. Brackett remember to tell you that he asked me to take those samples to the lab? He’s so worried he probably forgot.”

The woman had no reason to question Terri’s comment. She smiled, nodded, and handed the samples over to Terri. “Here you are, Miss Miller, thanks.” It was one less thing on her own list of things to do.

*****

Replacing Johnny’s samples had been simple. The man recovering from thyroid surgery was so groggy he never questioned the pretty nurse who came in.

She quickly placed Johnny’s labels on the new containers and disposed of the originals. She made sure to stress to the lab personnel that these were to be processed STAT and that Dr. Brackett was to be paged as soon as the results were in. She knew the samples wouldn’t fool the doctor; the results would obviously belong to someone else. But, it would cause him to repeat the tests, which would buy her time. Feeling triumphant from knowing that she had just bought herself an extra two or three hours before they realized the truth, she headed out to her car.
 

Terri drove straight to her apartment, formulating the next phases of her plan as she drove. The fact that the people at the hospital thought she was driving clear out to Johnny’s ranch allowed her more freedom. She grabbed an outfit from a box and changed out of her uniform. She entered her darkroom, intending to pack up the equipment and supplies, but the negatives were simply too powerful for her to resist. She looked at her watch and quickly pulled down the negatives. Again she went through the familiar steps of filling the trays with chemicals: developer, stop, fixer, water. She could have spent hours scrutinizing the pictures, enlarging, cropping, creating special effects; but, this time she was forced to settle for basic prints. She felt herself shiver as the striking pictures of Johnny gradually appeared on the papers before her, starting with her favorite. Pleased with her work, she hung them up to dry and then packed her gear into a box.

Terri called a cab and hopped a ride to the nearest Rent-a-Dent, where she showed a fake ID under the name of Jeri Milardo. From there, she drove to the nearest store and bought two bottles of vitamins, then drove back to her apartment. She dumped several pills from each bottle down the toilet and flushed them away, putting the bottles into her purse. She quickly loaded the enlarger and the packed boxes into the rented car, then returned to her apartment for a final check. She walked into the room that had served as her darkroom and looked appreciatively at the photographs, most of which were, unfortunately, still in the process of drying. But, the first picture, her favorite, was dry. Her pulse quickened each time she looked at it. She carried out her most prized possessions last: her camera bag and the strongbox that contained so much of her life. She added the picture of Johnny to her box, and placed it and the camera bag under the front seats of the rental car. She parked it in a lot across the street, pleased that the remaining photographs were all she had left to pack. She walked back to her own car with a swing in her step, and returned to the hospital. She would be ready for a quick departure when the time came.

*****

Terri was slightly taken aback when she entered Johnny’s room. Roy and Joanne occupied the two chairs. Roy had fallen asleep, and Joanne was holding Johnny’s hand. Joanne pointed to the hall as she quietly stood up, gently placing Johnny’s hand on the bed and smoothing the sheet. They stood outside the main door.

“How are you holding up?” she asked Terri.

“Oh, Joanne, it’s been just awful. It breaks my heart to see Johnny like this. Roy probably told you Dr. Brackett is even looking for poisons! To help him out, I went to Johnny’s and got his vitamins. I just turned them over to the lab. How is Johnny? I wanted to look at his chart.”

“Dr. Brackett said Johnny’s recovery over the last few hours has been practically miraculous. He’s still waiting on those other tests -- toxicology something -- but the most recent lab results show he’s a lot better. Brackett says Johnny's lungs are resolving, too. It’s an answer to our prayers.”

Joanne and Terri both jumped when they heard the vent alarms going off in Johnny’s room. Roy was already up and talking to Johnny as he began to wake up.

“It’s Roy, Johnny. You’re on a ventilator. You’re gonna be okay.”

Terri rushed to the bedside, squeezing her way between Roy the side of the bed. “Johnny, Honey, it’s Terri. Try to relax. Roy’s getting Dr. Brackett.”

*****

Dr. Brackett was very relieved to find Johnny relatively alert and oriented.

“Johnny, I’m going to keep you on the vent a little longer. We’ll get some new lab tests, and check your arterial blood gas again. I also want another chest X-ray to make sure you don’t have any more bleeding. If everything looks good, you should be ready to come off later today.”

Johnny responded with a very slight nod and a weak thumbs-up gesture, then pointed to the tube in his mouth and gave a thumbs down.

Dr. Brackett’s mouth twitched with empathy for his friend. “I know. I’ll give you a sedative to make you more comfortable, and to give your body a bit more rest. Hang in there, John. You’re getting better.”

*****

Dr. Brackett hung up the phone in his office as Dixie walked in holding a clipboard.

Dr. Brackett’s frustration could be heard in his voice. “Well, we can rule out those vitamins as the source of any toxins. They’re plain old run-of-the-mill vitamins. Any word on those blood cultures, Dix?”

“Nothing growing yet, but the tox screen just came back.” She handed the clipboard over to the doctor, and watched him expectantly.

Dr. Brackett scanned the printout, flipping to the second page, then he read it all again, shaking his head. “These lab results don’t make any sense. There has to be some mistake. There has to have been some mix-up at the lab. This shows opiates in his system, and no sign of the diazepam! These results can’t be Johnny’s. For cryin’ out loud, this is just the kind of screw-up Johnny doesn’t need right now. Somebody’s going to hear about this. Dixie, I need these tests redone ASAP. Can you see to it?”

*****

By mid-afternoon, Dr. Brackett had allowed the sedative to wear off and taken Johnny off the ventilator. Roy and Joanne went to call Captain Stanley and share the good news, while Terri again waited right outside Johnny’s room.

Terri sat by Johnny's bed the moment she was allowed back in the room. Johnny lifted his oxygen mask as Terri held a glass of water to his lips. He gratefully took a small sip to soothe his raw throat. He smiled weakly at Terri and then looked at Dr. Brackett. "News, Doc?" Johnny croaked, his voice ragged from the irritation of the vent tube.

Dr. Brackett crossed his arms and shook his head in frustration. "The lab botched your first tox screen and I'm waiting on the second one now."
 

“Tox? Why? I haven’t been exposed to anything, Doc."

"Nothing has shown up on your blood cultures, Johnny. This could just be a nasty viral infection, but there's also the possibility that you were exposed to a poison of some kind. Terri brought in your vitamins and they checked out, so we're still at a loss until we get those results from toxicology."

"Vitamins?" Johnny was beginning to get drowsy again, his body still exhausted. He didn’t remember any vitamins.

Terri moved closer to his bed and kissed his forehead. She spoke in a loving and soothing tone, lulling him into a deeper state of relaxation. "Shhh, shhh, Johnny. Let your vocal cords rest. Everything will be fine."

"What vit--"

Terri interrupted him. "Roy would love to come see you a minute before you fall asleep again, Hon. We've all been so worried."

Johnny nodded as Terri moved toward the door to find Roy.

Dr. Brackett was going to mention to Johnny that along with Roy, Terri had been by his side nearly every minute it had been permitted. But, he noticed Johnny's breathing had deepened. He was sleeping.

Roy and Joanne peeked their heads in the room and the relief at seeing Johnny sleeping peacefully without the ventilator was written across their faces. They stepped back into the hall, followed by Dr. Brackett, as Terri sat down next to Johnny’s bed.

The elevator doors opened and Chet stepped out. He held the door for the obviously agitated Dr. Brackett. "I'm going to go stand in that lab until they have some decent answers for me," Dr. Brackett barked as the elevator doors closed.

Chet winced as he came to get an update from Roy. “Man, what’s got Brackett so worked up? Johnny’s not worse is he?”

Roy smiled reassuringly. “No, Johnny’s better, actually. He’s off the vent and sleeping. Brackett’s waiting on the new lab results. I guess the lab messed up the first tox screen.”

"Well, in that case, want to go get something to eat?”

Roy nodded, suddenly noticing how hungry he was. “That sounds good. I’m starved. How about you, Honey?” He looked at his wife and blushed when his stomach let out a loud growl.

Joanne laughed, but declined. "I need to go pick up Jenny and Chris from Suzanne's house in a couple hours. I think I'll drive out to Johnny's first and get some of his things for when he's feeling a little better, unless Terri already did."

“No, I don’t think she did. He keeps his shaving supplies under his bathroom sink.”

“You would send your wife into a bachelor’s bathroom?” Chet asked, pretending to sound astonished. “You married a brave woman, Roy,” he kidded.

Joanne waved him off and gave Roy a quick kiss. "Bye, Honey."

"She never kisses me good bye," Chet mused as Roy elbowed him in the ribs.

*****

Terri gently rubbed Johnny’s cheek. They were alone. It was time to bring him clear to the edge of death and back again. This time she would be able to control it all, and see it all. The ultimate adrenaline rush. She slid her hands into the thin rubber gloves, and removed the 60cc syringe and the needle from her pocket. She attached the needle to the empty syringe and uncapped it. She pulled the plunger back and attached the needle to the injection port of the IV tubing. She rapidly injected the air into the IV line, then removed the syringe. She tossed it onto the floor, where it would be easy for someone to find. Her hands shook with excitement as she removed the gloves and put them in her pocket. Her eyes were fixed on Johnny, and her attention was so focused on his features that she was oblivious to all else. She stood transfixed. The effects of the infusion of air were almost immediate, and very dramatic. His body lurched and his eyes flew open . He reached out desperately as he gasped for air and began to turn purple. He couldn’t even cry out. As Johnny went into cardiac arrest, Terri leaned over the head of the bed and pressed the button to activate the code bells. Warbling bells sounded as she dropped the head of Johnny’s bed and heroically began CPR.

*****

Roy tossed his tray onto the nearest table and ran to the stairwell when he heard the chilling words across the intercom system.

Any doctor… Code Blue in ICU 4. Code Blue in ICU 4.

Chet was right behind him.

"What?" he called to Roy, who was taking the stairs two at a time.

"Code Blue...Johnny's room," was all Roy could get out as he raced to the ICU.

Chet felt a sharp constriction in his gut. Oh, God.

*****

As the team worked furiously to resuscitate Johnny, Roy and Chet paced nervously out in the hall.

“Can’t you go in there and help?” Chet asked desperately.

“I don’t want to get in the way. They have enough people for this, and the room is too small. Believe me - it’s killing me waiting out here.”

“At least go see what’s happening. I can’t stand this!”

With a quick glance at Chet’s wide eyes, Roy couldn’t stand on the sidelines any longer. He ducked into the doorway of Johnny’s room.

Dr. Brackett had his stethoscope on Johnny’s chest, listening to Johnny’s heart. Roy thought he heard Dr. Brackett mutter something about “crunching,” and the words “air embolism,” and Roy watched the team expertly flip Johnny onto his left side, keeping his head down. Roy stayed out of the way, his heart still racing, as Dr. Brackett skillfully inserted an intracardiac needle into Johnny’s chest and drew out a syringe full of air.

Roy stood silently as the scene before him continued to unfold, and proper color began to return to Johnny’s face. Terri rushed past Roy and out the door.

When Terri burst out of the room and hurried past Chet, her faced flushed, he called after her. “Terri!” When she didn’t answer, and just continued down the hall, Chet’s heart leapt into his throat, and he feared the worst.

Roy had never seen such a fierce look on Dr. Brackett’s face, nor had he ever heard such a sharp edge in the man’s voice. “I want to know what the hell caused that. Terri?” Dr. Brackett scanned the faces that remained in the room. His eyes settled on Roy, standing in the doorway. “Where’s Terri?”

Roy swallowed hard and spoke up. “Uh… she just ran out into the hall. Is Johnny gonna be okay?”

“I need to know what happened here!” Dr. Brackett turned to Dixie. “I want to talk to Miss Miller.”

Dixie nodded. “I’ll find her. She must be really shaken up.”

Dr. Brackett and Roy moved to the hallway, where Chet continued to pace nervously. He hurried over when he saw them emerge. “What’s going on, Roy? Is Johnny,” he swallowed mid-sentence, and continued, “…okay?”

“He’s alive, Chet,” Roy replied solemnly. “I think Brackett said it might have been an air embolism. Whatever it was caused his heart to stop. Chet, did you see where Terri went?”

Chet hesitated, unsure of what Roy had told him. “His heart stopped? Terri? But… An air what? Is he gonna be okay?”

“Embolism… and I don’t know. I think he’ll be okay, but I’ve never seen one before. Where’s Terri?”

Before Chet could answer, Dixie came out of the restroom with her arm around Terri’s shoulder. Terri’s whole body shook as she sobbed. “I tried to stop him, Dr. Brackett. I tried! He was just too big and he pushed me down. I saw a syringe! He - He-injected it and I couldn’t stop him!” Her sobbing made her difficult to understand, but the message came through.

Dr. Brackett spoke in a controlled and level tone in an effort to calm her and help her focus. “Terri, who did this? What did he look like? This is very important.”

Terri looked at the doctor with tear-filled eyes, biting her lip as she nodded. Her voice lowered to a tremulous whisper. “It was the same man. The man who was in my apartment. The one who hit Johnny. He threw something on the floor and ran out. Then, Johnny...started...” She intentionally began to make herself hyperventilate.

“Don’t leave her alone, Dixie. That guy could still be in the building,” Dr. Brackett instructed.

Dixie nodded, and escorted Terri to an empty room and had her breathe into a paper bag and lie down.

Dr. Brackett called security while Roy raced back to Johnny’s room and checked the floor. Roy grabbed a tissue and carefully picked up the empty syringe, pausing to look at Johnny and make sure he really was breathing. He returned to the hall holding up the offending instrument, a grim look on his face.

Dr. Brackett visibly tensed and turned to Dr. Morton, who had also heard the Code Blue come across the intercom. “Have that sent to the lab. Don’t let anyone touch it without gloves. I want to know what was in that… but I have a pretty good idea already. I need to call the police and find out where the hell that tox report is!”

When the security guard arrived, Dr. Brackett spoke to him briefly then headed to his office with Roy. Chet planted himself in a chair where he could see everyone who entered and exited Johnny’s room. He wouldn’t budge until the police arrived.

*****

Once in his office, Dr. Brackett immediately called the police and informed them of the apparent attempted murder. Roy listened anxiously. As soon as the conversation with the police ended, Dr. Brackett picked up the phone again and dialed the lab.

“Yes, this is Dr. Brackett. I’m after the toxicology screen results on John R. Gage. The second tox screen, and salicylate levels. Yes.” He tapped his pen on the table while he waited. “Yes. Okay.” He started jotting down notes, his jaw clenching and unclenching noticeably. “Yes, I got it. I want to be contacted the instant you determine the contents of that syringe, too. Oh? It was. I see. Send the reports up ASAP.” Roy wasn’t sure, but it looked like Dr. Brackett’s hands were shaking.

Roy’s eyes were on Dr. Brackett, who continued to stare at his pad of paper, nervously tapping it with his pen.

Roy couldn’t quite believe his ears. "Doc...?"

"Johnny's body has been pumped full of barbiturates, salicylates, and probably an anticoagulant."

The news was staggering.
 

“He's been poisoned. Deliberately and carefully poisoned,” the doctor said flatly, trying to keep his emotions under control. “And, his air embolism most likely came from that empty syringe. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it was probably the same assailant.”

*****

Joanne walked upstairs to Johnny’s bathroom and pulled out the shaving kit he kept under the bathroom sink. She placed the kit next to the sink and started opening drawers looking for supplies. She found all the essentials rather quickly and placed them in the bag. As she reached over to where his toothbrush hung, she bumped the bag and it landed upside down in the trashcan next to the toilet. Oh, terrific, she thought. She chuckled to herself as she remembered Chet’s comment about Roy sending his wife into a bachelor’s bathroom. She pulled the bag out and cringed slightly as she started sifting through the trash looking for the lost items. A prescription pill bottle caught her attention. She read the name on the bottle: Charles Simmons. It was a prescription for Seconal, from some pharmacy in Portland, Oregon. She quickly considered a dozen reasons why this bottle might be in Johnny’s trash, wondering in passing if Charles were one of Terri’s old boyfriends. Joanne felt a little guilty for reading it at all, and tossed it back in the trash. She finished packing Johnny’s kit, and washed her hands thoroughly before heading downstairs to round up some books and magazines he might like.

*****

After the initial shock of learning that someone was apparently trying to kill Johnny, Roy felt a sudden wave of panic when he remembered that Joanne had gone to Johnny’s house. Who knew what else the madman had planned? “Dr. Brackett, I need to use your phone. Joanne--” He was already dialing.

Roy breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his wife answer the phone. “Joanne, I’ll tell you more when you get here, but I want you to leave Johnny’s house right now. Please, just do it. Honey, I need you to meet me back at the hospital.”

Joanne recognized the strain in Roy’s voice, and it set her own nerves on edge. “Roy, is Johnny okay?”

“Jo, someone’s been hurting him on purpose, and I want you out of there right now. Please. I love you.”

He was scaring her, but she trusted him. “I’m leaving now. I love you, too.”

Roy hung up the phone and sat down. “This is turning out to be real nightmare.”

Dr. Brackett nodded in agreement. “That’s almost an understatement. Roy, could you stay here until I get back? It’s only fair that I let Terri know what’s going on. We should probably have a guard watching her, too.”

*****

Dr. Brackett found Dixie talking with Dr. Morton at the nurses’ station. They shook their heads with shock at the news about the poisons. “I have to tell Terri about it. I don’t look forward to that conversation. As if she isn’t already scared to death. Where is she, Dix?”

“After she calmed down, she went in to sit with Johnny. It seemed like the safest place for her. Want me to go with you? She might need some more support.”

Dr. Brackett nodded and smiled. “I'd sure appreciate it.”

*****

Terri knew the police would be arriving soon. She kissed Johnny’s cheek and traced his features lightly with her finger. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “Good-bye, my love. I really will miss you.”

She approached the very nervous-looking security guard and smiled sweetly. “Thank you so much for guarding Johnny’s room. I feel so much better knowing you’re out here. I need to go to Dr. Brackett’s office and wait for the police to arrive. Will you promise to keep an extra close watch on Johnny while I’m gone?”

The guard assured her that he would, and he suggested that she should have a security guard escort her. She told him that Dr. Brackett’s office was very close to the elevator on the main floor, and that she would be just fine. She thanked him for his kind concern.

Chet watched the exchange from his chair, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. But, even as he wondered about their words, Terri walked over to Johnny’s vigilant friend and repeated her performance. Chet promised that he wouldn’t take his eyes off Johnny’s room until the police arrived. Terri smiled inwardly as the elevator doors closed. If Chet hadn’t been watching Johnny’s room so carefully, he might have noticed that the elevator stopped on the second floor before it continued to the first floor.

*****

Joanne arrived at the hospital and noticed the police officer positioned right outside Johnny’s room, and both Chet and Mike Stoker sitting in the waiting area, where they, too, could watch Johnny’s room. The atmosphere of the hospital felt almost foreign from the almost palpable tension. The two firefighters stood as Joanne approached, a bewildered look on her face. “Where’s Roy? He said someone’s been doing this to Johnny intentionally. What on earth is going on?”

All three sat down, and Chet began. “You just missed him. Roy’s down in Brackett’s office talking with the police. Basically, all hell broke loose after you left. Roy only just now filled me in on the poisoning part. Remember when you left?”

Joanne felt as if the earth tilted. She sat down hard. “The what part? They did find poison?”

Chet filled her in on the events that had unfolded while she was gone, assuring her that Johnny now appeared to be all right.

“Oh, my God.” Joanne sank back in her chair as millions of questions flew through her mind. “How’s Terri?”

Mike and Chet looked at each other, then Chet took a deep breath. “There’s more. Dr. Brackett found out somebody’s been poisoning Johnny -- That’s what made him so sick -- and they figure it’s the same guy. And, now, Terri has disappeared.”

"You mean--” The stunning news was difficult to process.

Chet continued. “All we know for sure is that Terri identified the man as the same man who attacked Johnny in her apartment, and now Terri has disappeared. Her car’s in the parking lot, she hasn’t answered any pages, and there’s no answer at Johnny’s house or her house. It doesn’t look good.”

Mike finally spoke up. “Johnny’s still pretty out of it. He doesn’t know about any of this yet.”

Joanne fought the tears that threatened to escape. “It’s gonna kill him.” She jumped up as Roy appeared from the elevator. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. He kissed the top of her head and held her tight. “Chet and Mike told me what happened, Roy.”

He whispered in her ear as he continued to hold her. “I was so scared, Jo. You were at Johnny’s, and...” he closed his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Roy walked over to Chet and Mike with his arm still around Joanne. “They don’t have a clue who they’re after. Not a clue. Not a fingerprint, not a damn clue. They’re going to go search Johnny’s place now, and his truck, and his locker. Joanne, did anything seem strange when you were there?”

Joanne shook her head, then she remembered the pill bottle. “Just a pill bottle in Johnny’s trashcan. It had someone else’s name on it. Charles Simmons.”

“What else did it say, Jo? What was the prescription for?” Roy felt his heart rate quicken.

“Let me think. Let me think. It was from somewhere in Oregon, and it was for seco-something.”

“Secobarbitol?” Roy asked anxiously, remembering what Dr. Brackett had said about barbiturates.

“No, it was shorter than that. Seconil maybe?”

“Seconal? Was it Seconal? That’s a sleeping pill. Johnny had barbiturates in his system.” He looked at Mike and Chet, “I need to go tell the cops. Which trashcan, Joanne?”

“Upstairs bathroom, why? Is it important?”

“It could be, thanks. I’ll be right back.” Roy hurried back to Dr. Brackett’s office.

Chet finally started to lose his control. “That bastard! I knew we should have staked out her apartment when the guy attacked Johnny. I knew it. That’s probably him. Charles Simmons.”

Mike didn’t react the same at all. “Why didn’t the guy ever grab Terri?”

“Are you crazy? It looks like he did! And, he almost killed Johnny.”

Mike continued with his train of thought. “It looks like he did. But, why didn’t he grab her from her apartment the night he attacked Johnny? Why didn’t he grab her from Johnny’s room today?”

Chet lowered his voice, leaning closer to Mike. “You don’t mean you think she’s in on it, do you?”

Mike didn’t answer.

“You’re crazy, Mike! You didn’t see her, man, she was really upset.”

“I don’t know what to think, Chet. I just have a lot of questions. How the hell could the guy poison Johnny and not Terri? They were eating and drinking all the same stuff, except when he was on duty, and none of us got sick.”

*****

The pretty young woman with short, curly blonde hair called for a cab from the beauty salon. She tipped the man well and looked across the street to her apartment. She cursed loudly when she saw the patrol car parked out front. She would have to leave the photographs. Dammit. Everything else had worked out so perfectly. She walked to her packed rental car and checked under the front seats to make sure her camera and strongbox were still there. She pulled the strongbox out and placed it on the seat next to her. She opened it and placed her mother’s rings on her left hand. She held the one photograph of Johnny up to the light of the street lamp, and stroked the stained white cloth fondly, remembering their first date. She felt good about saving Johnny’s life, but she would truly miss him. She replaced the treasures to her box, and returned it to the safe place under the seat with a rewarding sense of completion. With a final glance at her old life, she pulled out of the parking lot as Jeri Milardo.

*****

Devlin and Grant were patrolling their usual beat when the call came over the radio to check on Terri Miller at her apartment. They had already been briefed at the station about the most recent attack on John Gage. They walked up to her second story apartment for the third time in about as many weeks. They knocked on the door. No answer.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Devlin said to his younger partner. “Take this as a lesson not to ignore your gut feeling. God, I’m kickin’ myself.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’.” Grant knocked again. “Did you hear a scream?”

Devlin’s eyes narrowed. “A scream? Oh, yeah, a scream.” A smile slowly spread across his face. “You’re makin’ me proud, Grant. I think I just heard another scream.”

The two men broke the door in and entered the apartment.

*****

By morning, Johnny was up to asking questions. His voice still sounded quite hoarse, but for the first time in many days, his headache was receding. “What’s the word, Doc?”

As tired as Johnny was, he still noticed the slight twitch at the corner of Dr. Brackett’s mouth, and he felt himself tense with apprehension.

“There’ll be plenty of time to discuss that later, Johnny. You just get some more rest.” Brackett tried to smile reassuringly. He knew that his answer wouldn’t hold Johnny for long, but he hoped it would stall him until he was a bit stronger. He saw Johnny swallow hard and close his eyes.

“Come on, Doc, be straight with me. I feel like an elephant sat on my chest.”

“Well, that could be from a few things.”

“Bottom line, Doc. You’re makin’ me nervous. Heart condition? Tumor? Cancer? Is it something that will end my career?” came the gravelly whisper.

The question threw Dr. Brackett completely off guard. “What? No, no.” He took a deep breath and sat down. “Johnny, I don’t know how to say this except to come right out and say it.” He hesitated again. “Johnny, you were poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” Johnny's eyes snapped open, his mouth gaping in disbelief, and he tried to sit up higher in the bed. “What? How?”

“Barbiturates and blood thinners, aspirin.”

“I don’t understand. I didn’t take any of that…just a couple aspirin...” The gravity of Dr. Brackett’s words began to sink in. “And, yesterday? I remember coming off the vent, and Terri was here. I guess I dozed off.”

Dr. Brackett shifted uneasily and took a deep breath. “Yesterday you had an air embolism. You were in full cardiac arrest.”

“Where’d that come from?” Johnny asked, feeling overwhelmed.

Brackett didn't answer immediately.

“Doc?” Johnny’s anxious voice interrupted the doctor’s thoughts.

“Johnny, someone entered your room and injected air into your IV port.”

Johnny stared at the doctor, stunned. When he did speak, his ragged voice was just above a whisper. “You mean somebody did all this... on purpose? Does Roy know?”

Dr. Brackett nodded.

“...and Terri?” Johnny asked tentatively.

Johnny saw the telltale nervous twitch again. “Does Terri know?” he repeated, louder.

The doctor looked Johnny in the eye, and told the truth, as well as he knew it. “Terri was in the room at the time, and she hit the code alarm and started CPR.”

“God... then she saw who... Who was it?” His breathing was getting faster.

Dr. Brackett stood up and placed his hands on Johnny’s bed. “Johnny, I’ve said too much already. You need to be recuperating. The rest you need to hear from the police when you’re stronger.”

“Where’s Terri, Doc? Where’s Roy? Who did this? I want to see Terri. Did he hurt her?” Johnny started to sit to get out of bed.

Dr. Brackett spoke quietly and firmly to the agitated man. “Roy’s at the police station. I’ll tell you what I can, but you need to agree to lie back down or I’ll give you a sedative that will knock you out until you’re healed. Do you understand?”

Johnny nodded and lay back, too weak to get far, even if he pushed the issue. “Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

Dr. Brackett chose his words carefully. “Terri said she saw the man who attacked you in her apartment inject the air into your IV port. She said she couldn’t stop him.”

“Did he hurt her? Where is she? She must be so--”

“From what we can tell, Terri left the hospital after you were resuscitated, and she never came back.”

“He took her? That bastard got her! God, why did you let her out of your--” Johnny again struggled to rise, but this time Dr. Brackett’s words alone stopped him.

“Johnny, there’s an APB out for Terri...as a suspect. Her apartment was empty. All her stuff is gone. She’s gone.” Dr. Brackett hated hurting Johnny like this, but it was the only way he could keep him down, unless he followed through on the sedative. Even that would only delay his reaction. “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyes widened in disbelief, as his mind raced over the events of the past few weeks, looking for an explanation. He started shaking his head in denial. “No! She wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t just leave. He took her. It has to be!”

Dr. Brackett’s silence was deafening.

Johnny tried to yell, but his inflamed throat wouldn’t permit. All that he emitted was a strangled, “This is all a mistake.” His eyes burned.

“Johnny--”

“Empty?”

“Johnny, I guess they found some other...evidence...too. I’m not clear on the details. The police will want to talk to you when I give the go ahead. I’m sorry, Johnny.”

Johnny’s mind was flooded with images and thoughts of the last few weeks. His voice was now an anguished whisper. “She’s really gone?”

*****

Johnny gave his brief statements to the two police detectives who were finally allowed to question him. He learned that Terri had disappeared without leaving much of a trail, and that her nursing credentials had been forged. The police revealed that they had recovered the pill bottle from Johnny’s trash. They had tracked down Charles Simmons through the pharmacy which had filled his prescription. They discovered that he was a police officer in Portland, Oregon. Johnny became numb to the details as the officers described the Simmons story, which sounded hauntingly similar to Johnny’s. He had initially been injured in a hit-and-run accident, and at the hospital he met a gorgeous young nurse who was new to the area....

Johnny largely tuned them out, but every now and then a salient word or phrase would cut through his emotional fog: hospital... disturbed... suffer... pleasure... photographs...

“Mr. Gage?” The two detectives looked at one another, and then back at the man whom they thought they were talking to. The taller detective cleared his throat and repeated, “Mr. Gage? Are you all right, sir?”

Johnny was jolted from his thoughts. “I’m listening. Go on.”

The Oregon police were rushing them a picture and some fingerprints, and they fully expected to make a positive identification. Then, they could get an arrest warrant. Oregon had already referred to her Pandora, for her almost irresistible beauty and charm, which concealed her frightening and dangerous interior.

Johnny considered the name. Pandora. “Pandora was a person. The evil she unleashed was in a box. Pandora’s box. She didn’t know what would happen.”

The two detectives were startled by his response. “Huh?”

Johnny shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. Greek mythology. Pandora. I’m really tired, guys. Are we about done here?”

The shorter detective pulled an envelope from his ill-fitting jacket. “Uh, just one more thing. We were hoping you could give us some sort of timeline on when these pictures might have been taken. They were found in her apartment.”

Johnny felt a nauseating chill run through him as he looked at picture after picture of himself, giving the detectives the dates they needed. After they left, he refused all other visitors, including Roy.

Dixie came in uninvited.

“Dix, I don’t feel like talking.”

“Good,” she said, “because I’ve had people talking at me all afternoon, and I am sick to death of listening. I came in here to get away from them. It looks like an off-duty firemen’s convention out there. And, the reporters… well, don’t even get me started about the reporters.”

Johnny rolled and unrolled the edge of his sheet. “Tell them it’s another case of mistaken identity. I’m just gonna be John Sage from now on.”

“I’d miss Johnny Gage. There’s been quite a bit of mistaken identities around here lately.” Dixie toyed with a fingernail for a moment, then suddenly spoke very loudly. “You know, I’m one of the people who hired her. We didn’t even check her references. Dammit, Johnny, I’m so mad I could hit somebody!”

“Dixie, I’m gonna be okay. Really.”

“Johnny, you’ve got a lot of friends out there who would really like to see for themselves that you’re going to be okay. They’ve been pretty scared. Roy’s going to need a new pair of shoes after tonight, with all the pacing he’s been doing. And, I’m sworn to secrecy about how much Chet has been here.”

"Dixie, it just takes too much energy to try to put up a front. I wasn't ready for this. I never imagined being a victim. God, I thought she really liked me. She seemed so caring...but all the time, she was really just...." Johnny cleared his throat and stared at the tubing for his IV. “How do I face the guys when I let someone do this to me?”

"You didn’t ‘let’ anyone do anything, for starters. You were victimized, Johnny," she said in a more soothing tone.

"'Victimized.' Jeez, Dixie, I can’t stand feeling like this. ‘Victim.’ I use that word every day, and it never meant anything like this. This was deliberate, Dixie. Premeditated.”

"Okay, then, call it assault, if that will help. Torture. Attack. Poisoning. Whatever term will help you deal with it. She had the medicals skills and the twisted compulsion to do this. She's mentally ill, Johnny."

"Sadistic is more like it," Johnny corrected bitterly. "The worse I got, the more caring she acted. I'm such an idiot. How could I not see she was setting me up?"

"Johnny, I’m sure she made it a point to be everything you wanted in a woman. Beautiful, intelligent, nurturing--"

"Yeah, and I was everything she wanted in a man. An idiot."

"Come on, now. Remember how she met you? She traded shifts to work that floor. She arranged to be your nurse that morning. That much we do know. She knew you were a paramedic; she’d seen you around here. Lord knows, I’m sure she had heard the other nurses talking. She knew you saved that little girl, and she knew you were injured. She picked you before she even knew you. There must have been something about how you looked or what you did that triggered her to do what she did. Maybe it was seeing you on TV--who knows?"

"Well, remind me to not do it again," he countered sarcastically.

"I'll do no such thing. You are a wonderful man, John Gage. Don't let her rob you of that. She’s a very disturbed woman.”

Johnny shook his head in disgust. “You know, Dix, I had hit on her for weeks and she never even gave me the time of day. I should have known something was wrong when she started hittin’ on me. And, you’re right. It all started after that fire when I ended up being a patient here.” Johnny shifted in the bed. “What would make anybody want to do something like this?”

Dixie shook her head, searching an answer. “Some of what she did reminds me a little of what I read a few months ago about something called Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy.”

Johnny finally tore his eyes off his IV tubing. "Munchausen Syndrome? I thought that was like hypochondria or malingering. That wasn’t Terri. Not by a long shot.”

Dixie finally sat down, and pulled the chair up close to the bed. "With Munchausen by Proxy, a person injures someone under their care, usually their child--” She regretted her choice in words the instant she saw the look on Johnny’s face.

“Child! This just gets better and better!”

“I didn’t mean that how it sounded. These people injure someone close to them to get all the attention that comes from being a great caregiver to a really sick person. I think that was a piece of what motivated Terri.”

"Great. Munchausen Syndrome By Proxy, with some violent psychosis thrown in for good measure? I sure know how to pick ‘em, huh, Dix? She took care of me, all right. Almost to the door of the morgue."

"She had both the skills and the desire to hurt you and save you, but she also probably got an extra boost from outsmarting the doctors."

“How’s that, Dix?”

“Well, I remember that the educational section of her resume was huge, and I remember that she said she applied for medical school at one time, but her plans changed. Who knows how much of any of that was true?”

Johnny frowned. "Man, I bet Dr. Brackett is pissed."

Dixie patted his arm and smiled. "That would be an understatement." Dixie rose to leave.

“Hey, Dix? I won’t be dating nurses for a while.”
 

“Sure you won’t talk to Roy?”

Johnny felt a small pang of guilt. “He’s really pacing out there?”

“Really pacing? Yes.”

“Okay. Tell him you wore me down.”

“You got it, Mister.”

*****

Roy stepped into Johnny’s room hesitantly. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Johnny cleared his throat nervously.

“You look better.” Roy sat down in the chair next to the bed and handed Johnny a Tupperware container full of cookies. “Joanne made these for you.”

Johnny held the container and fought the lump in his throat. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to talk to Roy. He didn’t want to get choked up. “Joanne…” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

Roy shifted in his chair. He let Johnny take the lead.

Johnny fiddled with the Tupperware lid, finally venturing to look at Roy. “You know the whole story?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” It was hard for Roy to look at Johnny. The emotional hurt was so apparent in his eyes. “Johnny--”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“All right.” Roy sat back in his chair and waited.

“Did you know she even took pictures of me?”

“Yeah, I did.” Roy was glad he hadn’t actually seen the photos. Knowing that she had taken them was disturbing enough.

“I even complimented her on her photography. Car crashes, floods, earthquakes. I should have known, Roy. I should have known.”

“She fooled a lot of people, Johnny.”

“How could I have been so blind, Roy? I trusted her. I had no reason not to trust her. How do you know when you can trust somebody?”

Roy hesitated. There was no answer; Johnny didn’t need platitudes.

Johnny’s voice was just above a whisper. “Roy, I feel so stupid. I’ve never been--I don’t know, played with, like that. How could I not see it? I almost feel like I deserved what I got, for being such a sucker, you know?”

Roy didn’t know what to say, but his own suppressed anger toward Terri neared the surface. “You didn’t deserve it. Nobody deserves that. Especially you.” There was so much to say.

“Roy, you saw us together. Do you think she ever cared about me at all?” He wasn’t sure he was ready to ask himself the question.

“I think that if she didn’t care about you, she wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to save you. Dr. Tyler said it’s probably part of her disorder.”

“Tyler? You’ve been talking to the shrink?” He placed the container of cookies on his tray.

“Yeah, I had a little chat with him. He said it sounded like she was a very complicated and disturbed lady. In her own mind, she might have even thought she loved you.”

“Love,” Johnny echoed bitterly. The word felt caustic. “You can have it. I quit.”

Roy sat in the room with Johnny until he was again sleeping soundly. He stood up slowly and silently left Johnny’s room. Then, with every ounce of restraint he possessed, he made his way down the hall to the stairwell. He was so focused in his anger at what Terri had done to Johnny that he did not see Dr. Morton in the hallway, nor did he hear him call his name. Roy opened the door to the stairwell and waited for the heavy door to shut. Then, with an almost primal shout and a string of obscenities that hadn’t crossed his lips since he left the service, he punched the wall twice. He sat down hard on the top step and waited for his heart rate to return to a more normal level. Eventually, he stood up shakily and walked to the emergency room to have his hand X-rayed.

*****

Roy came back in to see Johnny the following morning, this time wearing a short cast on his right hand.

Johnny raised one eyebrow. “What happened to your hand?”

“Banged it on something.”

“You banged it on something? Come on, Roy…”

“Okay, I punched a wall.”

“Sounds like an anger problem.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Sounds like you need another chat with the good Dr. Tyler,” Johnny teased.

Roy shook his head and chuckled. Johnny seemed to be in a slightly better frame of mind than the day before. “You might be right. You sound better.”

“So, this Tyler seems like an okay guy? For a shrink?” Johnny watched Roy from the corner of his eye.

Roy shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, he’s all right. You thinkin’ about talking to him?”

“Maybe I’ll go ask him a few questions about your anger problem.”

Roy laughed. “Be my guest, Junior.”

“Man, Roy you know Chet’s gonna crucify me with this. I can hear it now: ‘Leave it to Gage to pick up a chick who wants him dead.’ Or, how about, ‘Hey, Johnny, say hi to your girlfriends for me: Nurse Jeckyll and Miss Hyde.’” He closed his eyes and lay back, imagining the inevitable. “Chet’s been waiting for something like this ever since I walked into the station. I just handed him his dream on a silver platter.” He opened his eyes again and looked at his friend. “Just shoot me now, okay, Roy? It’ll be quicker than slow torture for the rest of my life at the hands of Chet Kelly.”

“You didn’t hear this from me, Johnny, but Chet really is one of your strongest supporters.”

“Good one, Roy.”

Roy’s expression turned somber. “I’m serious, Johnny. He’s fuming. We all are. I think I even heard Stoker swear.”

“Yeah, well, it’s easier to joke about it, you know?” he said, looking away quickly to avoid Roy’s eyes.

“Johnny, I’ve thought a lot about some of the things you said last night. We all know you didn’t do anything wrong. You trusted someone you cared about; you’re supposed to trust people you care about. You have no reason to feel humiliated.”

Johnny let out a growl of frustration. “Roy, that’s just it. I don’t know how I feel. I let my guard down and look what happened. How do I know it won’t happen again? It’s… it’s like a backdraft. Like a pressure building up inside me while some fire is just consuming everything it can get hold of. And, I’m stuck in this damn hospital bed, and I can’t deal with any of it the way I usually do. Does that sound stupid?”

Roy could sense the battle going on inside his friend. He had to let Johnny work through this. Johnny didn’t need someone putting words in his mouth, and Roy knew Johnny had more to say.

“One minute I’m so mad, and then the next minute I feel so empty inside that I think I’ll just - I don’t know! Disappear, maybe. But, you want to know the worst part?”

“What’s that?”

“Sometimes, I wish Terri was here. How’s that for stupid? I liked having someone take care of me -- besides you. No offense, Roy. You know what I mean.” Quieter, he added, “You have Joanne…” Johnny fiddled with his IV tubing. “I feel like something -- has to happen. Like I need to flip a switch and make this all go away. You know?” He looked up and met Roy’s gaze. “How am I gonna ever trust anybody? Man, I didn't even see any signs she was psycho! She was always so nice to me. God, Roy. I can’t even trust my own judgment.”

Roy twirled his wedding band absently. “Well, it may not mean much, but I trust you.”

Johnny looked at Roy, slightly confused. “What do you mean?”

“I trust you to find yourself again after you’ve had some time. I trust you to keep expecting the most from the people in your life. I trust you not to live your life waiting to be betrayed again.”

Johnny’s expression softened slightly when he heard the word. Betrayed. He caught his first glimmer of realization. It was the first faint whisper of emotional validation. He nodded slowly, and then let his head sink back into his pillow, and his body began to relax.

Roy saw the change.

Even Johnny’s voice sounded calmer. “That’s what it was, Roy, betrayal. Terri betrayed me. I’ve never been betrayed like this before.” He paused before making his final confession. “I kinda wanted Terri to be ‘The One,’ Roy.”

Roy wasn’t sure what to say. Johnny could be such an enigma. For a guy who shared very little about his family and childhood, he certainly wore his heart on his sleeve at times. And, as much as Johnny liked to joke about the pitfalls of marriage, Roy knew that part of him really longed for the comfortable sense of “home” and “family” that Roy had found with Joanne. Roy wished for Johnny to know that happiness some day.

Johnny sat in silence for a minute, trying to put words to the fear that his mind had been carefully avoiding. “How long am I gonna have to wait, Roy?”

Roy knew what Johnny was really asking. He thought about the warm, comforting, sense of peace he could rely on with certainty in times of crisis or emotional unrest. His sense of “being home,” that he could call up at will. His true lifeline. How long until he finds his own Joanne…

“As long as it takes, Johnny. And it will be worth it. Trust me.”

Author’s Note: Thanks to beta readers James, Pat, and Dewanna. Additional thanks to MJ for final edits and original posting. Special thanks to Audrey for bringing this story back to life. Thank you all!

*Click on Johnny to send Cindy T. feedback

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