by JA Schneider
He fell backward, howling, dripping blood from his nose and his missing thumb. David grabbed for his foot but he rolled and spun away, screaming, “Burn in Hell! Burn in Hell!” as he ran and hid behind one generator, then ducked to another generator further away. The floor was crowded with roaring machines.
More cops had climbed up. Some lowered their injured brother down as others, hunched, followed the blood trail.
But they couldn’t shoot.
Those elephantine machines and their wires, dials and pumps supplied the hospital’s power: surgery in progress, patients on ventilators, dialysis machines.
Burrell knew it. David knew that he knew it. Now he was holding the whole hospital hostage.
They couldn’t see him, but the blood trail led from one noisy machine to another.
David followed carefully with the others, and then suddenly stopped. The red splotches were further apart now, and led around to the back of a tall, wide machine set between a web of crisscrossing wires and fuel pipes.
“Wait,” he said softly.
He stepped away from the others and approached the huge machine; walked around it.
Locked eyes with Burrell’s crazed, defiant glare. He was in a hunched position, hanging onto the edge of a dial. Somewhere he had dropped his iron rod. His eyes darted insanely around for something else to use.
“Give it up,” David told him. “You’re done.”
“No, you’re done! And this whole hospital, burn in Hell!” he shrieked again. He found an unused fuel pipe on the floor and hurled it at David, who ducked it.
Howling, he started pulling maniacally on another, smaller fuel pipe. An attached fuel pipe.
“Don’t!” David yelled in a panic. “That’s…you’ll get…”
Burrell exerted his whole body weight, twisted and yanked the pipe free…
…and was blasted by spewing diesel fuel. The force of the gush threw him backward, his falling body tearing through electrical wires which snapped and sparked and whipped around...
…and found the dynamite on his shirt.
Burrell’s chest burst into flame. He shrieked in pain and horror as the spewing diesel blasted his face and body, formed a pool beneath him which erupted into flame.
“The generators! Get him away from the generators!” David cried, pulling at Burrell’s feet, the only part of him not on fire.
Another cop helped. They dragged Burrell, still shrieking hideously, away from the danger of exploding the whole place. Others had their jackets off and were beating the flames out.
A sudden roar sounded as backup generators turned on. Every cop cheered. The backup system was okay.
The shrieking had stopped. The huge room now smelled of burnt flesh. Someone called for repairs fast to cap the gusher.
They all viewed the charred mess that had been a killer.
“You burn in Hell,” one of the cops said.
In the hall outside the cleared nursery, Tricia and MacIntyre were filling in Pappas when David appeared, behind cops just exiting the bathroom.
Quick words were exchanged. Hugs of relief from Sam and Tricia, both gibbering at once that Jill and the others were downstairs, getting evacuated.
“She’s probably waiting for you,” Sam said. “Being stubborn, holding Jesse and refusing to get into an ambulance.”
David ran. Passed Keri, Alex, and trauma counselors comforting and moving away traumatized parents. Alex called after him, holding up his phone. “Hey, nice going! I heard about upstairs!”
A wave without turning, a plunge down five flights of stairs, and in the controlled chaos of a cleared area in the ER, he found Jill.
Sam was right. She was sitting on the floor shivering, hugging blanketed Jesse to her and comforting him. The sliding ER doors were open, and cold, darkening rain blew in on her. Someone had pulled a blanket over her, but she still shivered. Was watching the lights-flashing ambulances just outside, and the last of the babies getting lovingly placed into waiting isolettes.
“Jill.”
She looked up to him and burst into tears.
He knelt to her and held her, held both of them. Jesse actually looked up at him, a bit cross-eyed.
“David, you’re safe…safe,” Jill cried between gulps, her face pressed to his. “My phone…they said…fire.”
“I’m okay.”
She gulped air again. “Burrell?”
“In Hell.”
He held them. Long moments of comfort, of giving thanks passed between them.
Then he pulled Jill up, still cradling Jesse. She was in her thin scrubs, and her blanket was a bit wet. David asked for a new one, and wrapped her and the baby snugly inside it.
Then looked at them, and kissed her again. “Mama saves her baby,” he said in the softest voice imaginable.
Jill smiled weakly, and leaned into him.
There was room in the last ambulance. No isolettes left, but no problem.
They rode with Jesse to Mount Sinai Hospital, taking turns holding him.
EPILOGUE/ JULY 1
The blueberries were perfect. And the strawberries - joyously red and plump. Those two, that’s all Jill said they needed for their dessert with chocolate sauce over vanilla ice cream, but David poked happily among the bright mangos, grapes, papayas and cantaloupes, watching the setting sun glow on the whole sidewalk stand, and on his wedding ring.
It actually warmed his finger, and he stopped to twirl it a little, enjoying the feeling. Then he went back to picking the blueberries and strawberries, and a baguette and roses too. A beautiful bouquet of red ones, Jill’s favorite. Paying, he grinned back at the grocer, grinned too at others who recognized him, then hurried home.
She was in the kitchen and looked up smiling – then delighted - when he came in.
“Oh beautiful!” She took the roses and hugged him hard with her free arm, kissing him lovingly.
As she poured water for the roses into a pitcher he said, “Congratulations, first year resident.”
She laughed happily, then let out a subdued cowboy hoot. “Yeeehaaw!” Not loud enough to wake Jesse, but she couldn’t resist; had heard it from some of David’s relatives, his hearty father mostly, summoned for their quickie marriage ceremony at NYC’s City Hall. It took all of twenty minutes. His parents had gifted her with loving hugs and cookware and a cowgirl hat. They owned a sporting goods store in Denver.
She felt high with happiness. Last night, June 30 at the stroke of midnight, Jill’s year of internship had ended and she’d become a first year resident. So had all of them – Tricia, Ramu, Charlie and Gary. No chance to celebrate though, work continued, so they’d gathered and hugged and toasted with Sprite for a whole five minutes before they had to run off again…or collapse in bed to start all over at 6 a.m.
No time off, no summer vacations, no joke. July first was also the day the new bunch of interns arrived, and you didn’t want them wandering around in a daze with their limited clinical experience.
“Remember last year, when you were one of ‘em?” David smirked, leaving the water running to start rinsing the strawberries.
“Oh…” She jabbed him in the ribs, not wanting to remember her first dreadful week.
They fell silent for a moment, remembering the darkness of the July before, and last October again…
Then the moment passed. The darkness was behind them, they’d gotten through it, and tonight they had – off! Jill had made a beautiful salad nicoise, and David, slicing the baguette, commented about bed early and a decent night’s sleep.
She looked at him, arching a brow, and he re-thought the sleep part. Peered out the long, thin kitchen to the living area beyond. It was still as quiet out there as it was when he went for the fruit.
“Jesse still asleep?” he asked.
“You know it.”
True. No baby clamor yet. Jesse was nine months now. The adoption had proceeded with the speed of government, but he’d been theirs, really theirs, for over four months. Th
e tiny bundle they’d once held was now a seventeen-pound happy babbler, expert crawler, and enterprising explorer. He was on track as just a normal kid, as they told the rare reporter who called of late, or the cameramen who’d caught them in their heavy jackets last winter walking to and from the hospital.
The paparazzi had pretty much disappeared after December. Other media excitement had replaced the Jesse furor. The whole winter, spring, and now July had been so quiet. No threats, no bogeymen. The three of them had stopped being danger magnets! So the awfulness was over, right? People had gotten used to the idea of Jesse. The only news stories appearing concerned women clamoring to have their babies the same way – not a lot, but they were vocal, increasing in numbers, demanding and insisting that doctors find out faster how it was done or “admit their indifference to the hardships of women, especially working women.”
The beautiful, oh-give-thanks thing was that the world was leaving Jill and David alone to be just normal, overtired, overworked residents whose joy was having Jesse, watching him grow.
David went to him. Jill dried her hands and followed, carrying the salad, a bottle of Chardonnay, and the roses on a tray. Their table, already set, was just feet from the crib. Jill put her tray down and joined David, gazing at their sleeping child.
Who squirmed, and squirmed some more…and opened his eyes.
“Da…” he said, seeing David first. His right hand reached sleepily for his favorite toy, a soft bunny, and he handed it up to David. The bunny was a gift from Gregory Pappas. The whole living area, the floor and every shelf, was crammed with toys from friends. Alex Brand and Keri Blasco with her boyfriend had been over. Alex had brought a soft plastic fire truck; Keri had brought a little red horse.
The police were grateful that Jill and David had continued to help with their cases. Three rapes and a case of statutory rape and child molestation. The child had been a pregnant thirteen-year-old. Keri and Jill had become close friends.
Leaning over the crib, Jill said, “Hi cutie. Wanna come out and play?”
“Paaay,” Jesse said sleepily, his light brown hair a little sweaty on his brow.
They changed him, and took turns eating a bit awkwardly, one-handed with him traveling from one lap to the other. He held his own bottle. Once he dropped it, then, chortling, swept some of David’s rice to the floor and thought that was hugely funny.
“Meth! Meth!” he chirped happily. He was proud of himself. He’d made a mess and had learned another word.
David reached for the baby development book.
“He’s ahead in language development,” he said, reading thoughtfully. Then he smirked and looked down at the carpet. “We’ll need a drop cloth here.”
“Almost every day a new word,” Jill said, restraining Jesse’s little hand from swiping more rice. “Maybe because we talk to him a lot. Ditto the hospital day care bunch.”
Every hospital staff member had access to daycare for their little ones. Jesse also spent two afternoons a week in the hospital’s more-famous-than-ever Infant School, but he didn’t seem to like it. He often did just the opposite of what the teachers tried to teach him, and preferred the free-crawling, rolling, head-butting scene of the regular daycare.
“So he’s going to be an independent thinker,” David said later, sprawled with Jill on the carpet, watching Jesse crawl around. He was babbling and pushing Alex’s soft plastic fire truck, another favorite toy, holding it with one hand while using his other hand and two knees to propel himself.
Outside the wide darkening window, the hospital lights glowed, and an ambulance sounded. Then another, and another, all wailing together into the nearby ambulance bay.
A big accident someplace. Collision at an intersection? A house fire? Building crane collapse?
Jill sighed. Home helped her forget the suffering and trauma of the outside world. It never ended, did it? Hearing the sirens always brought the realization back. Amid all this homey coziness, she felt a sadness take hold, wondering who was in pain, bleeding, maybe dying.
She sighed again, audibly this time. David, leaning against her, understood and patted her hand.
Are nine-month-olds able to read body language? Jill didn’t know, but doubted it.
Until the following happened.
Jesse seemed to have seen her sad expression. He stopped crawling for a second, then scrambled to her looking worried, and held his fire truck up to her. Don’t be sad, Mommy.
She took it, and smiled for him. “Thank you, sweetheart. Mommy’s happy again.”
David watched, amazed. Jesse beamed, his round little face showing his first front teeth coming in.
Then he pulled himself up on Jill’s knee.
And then he let go, and took his first step. And then another. And almost a third before he fell into David’s arms, squealing with delight and looking back at Jill. Mommy proud? Mommy proud?
No words to describe the exclamations and stunned thrill of that moment. David took Jesse’s little hand and kissed it, and then kissed Jill, who was nearly in tears with excitement. She had felt comfort before from holding Jesse as a baby, but this…took her breath away.
Good people heal and comfort each other. Jill knew in her heart that Jesse would be one of those good people.
He crawled from David to her lap, cuddled, popped his thumb in his mouth, and resumed being a baby again.
It felt so good.
Author’s Note
Hello, and thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this book. If you have the time to write a review, let me know and I will thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your review on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Goodreads would also help others decide if they would enjoy the book.
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Thanks again for reading!
~ Joyce
About the Author
J.A. (Joyce Anne) Schneider is a former staffer at Newsweek Magazine, and a wife, mom, and book lover. Words and story ideas are always teeming in her head – “a colorful place!” she says. She loves thrillers…which may seem odd, since she was once a major in French Literature - wonderful but sometimes heavy stuff. Now, for years, she has become increasingly fascinated with medicine and forensic science. Decades of being married to a physician who loves explaining medical concepts and reliving his experiences means that there’ll be medical angles even in “regular” thrillers that she writes. She lives with her family in Connecticut.
EMBRYO 3:
Raney & Levine
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Author's Note
About the Author
