Darden shrugged.
"Who knows how much of a child's behavior is the fault of the parents?" he said. "Perhaps in the long run some good will come of all this for her and for us."
The antidote dissolved readily in sterile saline.
Working on his tray table in the plane, Eric used a small scale to measure out the dose Haven Darden had suggested, and then carefully drew it up into a large syringe.
"An IV injection of an unknown unsterile powder is not my idea of fun," he said, "but I can always treat any infection that results."
"What's your sense of the doc in Wab?" Harten asked.
"He seemed okay, but he wasn't too excited about administering the dose of adrenaline I've settled on."
Together, Eric and Den had maewed Reed Marshall's resuscitation efforts on Loretta Leone, and had deten-nined that his aggressive approach and repeated use of the drug had almost certainly begun reversing her toxicity and increasing the speed and force of her cardiac contractions even while she was awaiting autopsy.
"Belts on, tray tables up, everyone," the pilot broadcast. "We're landing."
"Are you going back up front with Laura?" Harten asked.
Eric shook his head. Throughout the early portion of their flight, Harten had sat with her, candidly answering questions and sharing information about her brother's life of dangerous service.
Over the hours that followed, Eric had seen the reality of Scott's death take hold.
"She needs a little time by herself," he said.
"Is she going to stay in Boston?"
"I hope so."
A soft squeak of the Lear's main gear signaled the perfect landing in Moab. A police cruiser and two cars raced out to bring the passengers to the hospital.
Hand in hand with Laura and Maggie Nelson, Eric hurried up the walk and straight to the I.C.U.
The local internist had done a remarkable job of holding Bernard together. Although the detective was still unconscious, his blood pressure had begun responding to the massive adrenaline doses the man had given, and his kidneys had already started working.
Neil Harten and the others waited in the family room as Eric huddled with the internist. While they were administering the tetrodotoxin antidote and another dose of adrenaline, a stretcher bearing another patient was wheeled into the I.C.U.
Eric moved to help evaluate the new arrival, and found himself staring down at the man who had once been his boss. Craig 'Abrrell, drawn and filthy stared blankly up at him with rheumy, jaundiced eyes.
"His temps one-oh-four," the ambulance attendant offered.
"Looks like fulminant hepatitis," Eric said to the internist.
"This man's a doctor from White Memorial in Boston. He was part of that Caduceus group I told you about-at least he was before he got into trouble at the hospital. I guess this is part of the Caduceus early-retirement plan."
"He looks bad."
"Maybe that DS-Nineteen wasn't working as well as Subarsky said it was.
You want to work on him?"
Eric asked.
"Not really, but I will."
"I'll stay with Nelson."
In just half an hour Bernard Nelson began to show signs of responding to the treatment. Harten and his associate headed off to investigate Charity firsthand, while Laura and Maggie Nelson took up a vigil at Bernard's bedside.
Two hours passed, during which several cardiac crises arose.
Laura clutched Maggie's hand tightly as they watched Eric move from one side of the bed to 'the other, checking Bernard's physical condition, evaluating lab reports and the monitor pattern, and then calmly issuing instructions to the nurse. And she knew that regardless of what lay ahead for the two of them, she would never lose the admiration she was feeling for him at that moment Over the next hour, Bernard's condition seemed to stabilize. The need for Eric's intervention grew less frequent. Laura could see the deep lines of tension across his forehead begin to recede. Finally, four hours after their arrival, Bernard's eyes fluttered open.
Minutes later, he reached up and pointed to the endotracheal tube, imploring Eric to remove it.
"Has he made it?" Maggie Nelson asked.
Eric took both her hands and helped her up. Then he hugged her.
"You married one tough guy, Mrs. Nelson," he said. "He's a real bear."
"I know," she said.
He stepped back while she bent over, spoke a few words to her husband, and gently kissed him on the cheek. Then he sent the two women out of the room and motioned the nurse in. Laura watched from a distance as Eric whispered in the detective's ear, then quickly pulled out the polyethylene breathing tube.
Bernard sputtered and gagged as the nurse suctioned out his mouth and pharynx.
For a minute, there was total silence as Eric stood by to replace the tube at the first sign of trouble.
Then Bernard cleared his throat.
"Anyone got a cigar?" he croaked.
One by one, those Charity inmates needing the most vital care were brought into Moab. The rest were transferred to other facilities.
Eric worked through the night alongside the hospital staff, and other vestiges of malnutrition Shortly after dawn the next left Maggie Nelson with her husband at the motel where she was staying they walked along the large town.
To the south, the sun day sparkled off the rich red clay of "This place is so beautiful," she said. "And the hospital seems very good."
"For a place this size, it is," Eric said.
Laura locked her arm in his.
"Think you'd ever consider working here?" she asked.
"I think my lowest gear may still be about ten times higher than the highest one I'd ever need here,"
"Well, maybe that's just what you need."
He held her close.
"Maybe. I'll tell you what: If we ever get tired of Boston and white Memorial, I'll think about it."
"Good. Because I understand real estate around Boston is through the roof, and here there's a whole town for sale, just a little ways down the road."
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Extreme Measures Page 37
