“Say what?” Bree swallowed hard against a wave of nausea. She didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“If we leave the lacerations open, you can clean them each day and repack with the special dressing. That would greatly reduce your risk of infection. You need IV antibiotics, and I’ll also send you home with a prescription for oral antibiotics. We can show you how to change the bandages and pack the wounds with the antibiotic material.”
“That sounds like a pain in the ass. Not to mention gross. Look, I’m in the middle of an investigation and I don’t have time for all that nonsense. I’ll take the antibiotics, but sew me up, Doc. I’ll take the risk.”
“Are you sure you understand the risk?”
“Either you sew me up or I’ll do it myself. I’ll sign a waiver or whatever is necessary, but I’m not doing the open wound thing.” Bree glared at the doctor.
Nina looked at Rick, probably in hopes that he would help sway Bree to her side, but instead he said, “unfortunately, she means it. She would absolutely go home and sew herself up or have her uncle do it for her.”
“Okay, Ms. Jackson. Sutures it is. I’ll do my best to minimize scarring, but I’m not a plastic surgeon. And, if an infection develops, we’re going to have to open you back up.”
Bree shrugged, not concerned about scars at the moment.
Feeling no pain because of the numbing medicine in her arm, Bree chatted with Rick and Doc Nina while the IV delivered the large dose of antibiotics and the doc sutured her cuts.
Paramedics wheeled a new patient into the ER.
“Forty-two-year-old female. Non responsive times forty minutes. BP is eighty-eight over fifty-two. Pulse fifty-four and steady. GCS was eight on scene. Husband reported no head trauma or stroke symptoms.” One of the EMTs reported to the ER nurse as they wheeled the stretcher past Bree’s bed.
“Husband reported that patient began acting strange a few days ago when she came home from her morning walk and began… uh… giggling uncontrollably. His words, not mine.” The younger EMT’s face blushed a bit, but he continued. “By his report, she continued to be extraordinarily happy with bouts of hysterical laughter and, uh, increased libido over the next few days. This morning she stopped responding to him and sat on the couch smiling and staring into space. Approximately 45 minutes ago she fell unconscious and he called 911.”
Huh. Bree immediately thought about Jason’s report of the extra-happy people. The timing seemed to be the same as for the ragers.
“Hey, Doc. Have you seen other people coming in like that woman?” Bree tilted her head in the direction of the unconscious woman. “Or any other strange behavior in the last few days?”
“As a matter of fact, we’ve had a few odd complaints. Not quite that severe, but very dramatic mood changes. Some happy and some angry. Why? Do you know something?”
“Nah. But, this type of strange behavior is the focus of my investigation. Have you found any medical causes? Is it drug-related?”
“You know I can’t divulge medical information.” Doc Nina pulled the IV out of Bree’s hand and placed a cotton ball on the small puncture site. “Hold tight pressure on this.” Nina put a bandaid on to hold the cotton ball in place. “Keep pressure on, it’ll help stop bleeding and prevent bruising.”
Rick spoke up. “We don’t need personal details, Doc. Just some general info.”
“Well, let’s see. I guess I can tell you that it doesn’t appear to be drugs. We have found some odd findings with EEGs - brain wave analysis - but we can’t make any sense of it at this point. People seem to show a progression in symptoms, although the rate of progression varies. There are a few other pockets of similar findings around the area, but nobody has figured out the cause. Or a treatment. Does that help?” Nina looked back and forth between Rick and Bree.
“To be honest, I don’t have a fucking clue. I mean, the more information the better, but I don’t know what the hell is going on. Do you think it’s got something to do with the Instant Karma nano-trackers?” Bree fidgeted with the bandage covering the wounds on her left arm.
“The Kusharian medical consultants assured us that these incidents are not caused by the nano-trackers. Beyond that they haven’t been able to offer much help. They’re looking at the brain wave data, but we haven’t heard anything back yet. In Sedona, we’ve only seen this phenomenon over the last few days.” Nina shook her head and sighed.
“You believe them? I hardly think they’d fess up to it, if they were responsible,” Bree grumbled.
Doc Nina’s jaw-line twitched. “They’ve been very helpful to us. With their knowledge and technology we’re making great strides in treating a lot of illnesses. I trust Ipeshe, the consultant I’ve been working with.”
Bree interrupted. “I know. I know.” In a flat robotic rhythm she said, “They’re here to help. They’re bringing us advanced technology. They want to prevent the T’Lalz invasion.” She continued in her normal tone. “I am well aware of the propaganda. But, I’m not ready to swallow the Kool-Aid yet.” Her muscles tensed as she talked, and those in her left arm protested painfully. Bree clenched her teeth and tilted her head side to side to crack her neck.
“Settle down, Bree.” Rick turned and smiled at Nina. “Thank you for the information. We appreciate your help.” He shot Bree a dark look. “Right?”
“Hmm mmm.” Bree rolled her eyes. The doctor might be attractive, but that didn’t mean she had her head screwed on right.
“Okay… you’re all set. Keep the area clean and dry. Please watch for any signs of infection. Come back right away if you notice any redness or drainage from the wounds. I’m giving you a prescription for an antibiotic. Ibuprofen should help with any pain. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jackson.” Nina reached out to shake Bree’s hand, then turned to shake Rick’s hand. “Always good to see you, Rick.” Before closing the curtain, she looked back at Bree. “You should take it easy. Between your eye and your arm, I think your body could use a break.”
Bree nodded and forced a half smile.
The next morning, Bree sat outside with her coffee and her less-than-perfect attempt at Max’s protein shake. Her mind was on the events of the night before as she rested her throbbing arm on the table. The rumble of Max’s truck broke the silence. Despite her desire to hide her wounds - and more importantly, her investigation activities - the bulky bandage on her arm made that impossible.
The big truck pulled in beside her Jeep and Jason hopped out of the passenger seat before Max stopped.
“Hey! What’s up?” Jason called and headed toward her. “What the hell happened to your arm?” His brows cinched together as he sat down next to his sister.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Bree smiled at Jason. “You guys want a smoothie? There’s a pitcher in the fridge. It’s not as good as yours, but it’s okay.” She nodded to Max.
“Nice try. What’s with the arm?” Max gave her a stern look.
“It’s none of your damn business, that’s what.” Bree snapped, pulling her arm close to her body and away from prying eyes.
“Somebody’s cranky today.” Jason looked to Max for help.
“We have our ways of getting information.” Max smirked and wiggled his brows.
Oh for God’s sake. Privacy didn’t seem to be a concept that her family understood.
“Okay, you nosy little pricks. If you must know, I got scratched by a mountain lion.”
“What? Where?”
“Are you okay?”
Bree held up her right hand. “Settle down. One at a time please.”
Stalling, she took a deep breath and sipped her coffee. “Rick and I were at the high school last night and I accidentally surprised a mountain lion enjoying her dinner. The beautiful beast felt cornered. Rick startled her even more when he came running and she pounced on me. Rick fired in the air and she ran off. End of story.”
“Shit! How bad are you hurt? Can I see?” Jason leaned forward, his eyes wide.
�
��It’s not that bad. She missed all the important stuff. But, I’ve got stitches and need to watch for infection. And no, you can’t see it right now.” Bree swatted Jason’s hand reaching for her bandage.
“How many stitches? Come on, I want to see them.” Jason stopped reaching, but stayed focused on her arm.
“What were you two doing at the high school?” Max asked, not nearly so distracted by stories of blood and gore.
Likely to regret this later, Bree decided on full disclosure. Maybe they could help her figure things out. She filled them in on her investigation and her reason to poke around at the school. She told them about the ER visit, learning about the increase of people with exaggerated mood swings, and the woman in the coma.
9
“You were lucky.”
Bree nodded at Max. “Yeah, that’s what they said at the ER. I could’ve had permanent damage.”
“No, I mean you were lucky it was a mountain lion. I don’t know what else to say to get you to stay out of this shit.” Max huffed, then stood up and headed for his truck.
“Who pissed in his smoothie this morning?” Bree flipped her middle finger at Max’s back.
“He’s just worried about you.” Jason shrugged his shoulder. “I guess.”
Bree didn’t respond and pushed her chair back so she could put her feet up on the chair Max had vacated. While his intentions might be good, she didn’t understand his current attitude. Had he forgotten she was fully capable of handling herself? Why was he so willing to bury his head in the sand? She made a mental note to do some digging to find out what the hell Max knew that he wasn’t sharing.
Finally, Jason broke the long silence. “Bree, I want to help. You’ve got to stop treating me like a kid. I can take care of myself. I’ve been training a lot with Max and I can kick serious ass.”
“Listen, Jase, that’s part of the problem. Kicking ass these days will put you in a Karma cocoon. I can’t be worrying that you are going to get yourself k-snagged. If you’re gonna help me, I’ve got to be able to trust that you’ll listen to me. As in, do what I say, when I say it. No going rogue and making calls on your own. If you can’t agree to my terms…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jason interrupted. “Don’t bust my balls. I’ll do whatever you say, boss.” He beamed and leaned forward in his chair.
“This is serious. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” Again. Bree took a sip of her coffee, trying to force the lump in her throat down. It’d been sixteen years, but she still couldn’t forgive herself for letting Jason get hurt during the carjacking that’d led to their mother’s murder. Well meaning people had tried to comfort her by pointing out that she’d only been twelve at the time and the murderous bastard had a gun, but those words fell flat. Maybe if she’d jumped into the back seat, she could’ve gotten the gun or at the very least the gunman would’ve pounded her head and not Jason’s.
“I already promised to listen. Besides, you need some help. This is big, isn’t it?” Jason asked.
He did have a point there. Bree sighed deeply. “Okay. Here’s what I need you to do. I need you to go to Red Rock Coffee and find out where the happy people were the day they started feeling… um, extra happy.”
“Come on, that’s bullshit. I want to do something real.”
“It’s not bullshit. I - we - need that information. Investigations aren’t typically exciting. A lot of it is boring work. Are you in or not?”
“Alright. I guess,” Jason whined and his smile morphed to a pout. “What’re you gonna do?”
“I’m going to check out the trail down the street from Ms. Worton’s house. That’s the only other common area we have so far.”
“I’ll go with you. You need backup. What would have happened last night if Rick wasn’t with you? I’ll go to the coffee shop later.”
“I’m just taking a peek so I don’t need any backup. Besides, it’s the middle of the day, I’ll be fine. I’ll come get you after I look around and then we’ll plan our next move.” Bree didn’t want Jason anywhere near that trail in case it was the source of this erratic behavior. He had enough issues with temper control, he didn’t need anything else messing with his brain. Doctors believed that the injuries to her brother’s prefrontal cortex and temporal lobe sustained during the carjacking had contributed to his impulsive behavior and learning difficulties.
Bree dropped Jason off at the coffee shop and headed down Soldier’s Pass Road to Painted Cliffs Drive, where she would catch the trail. She hoped her brother would do okay with his first assignment. It should be safe enough for him to deal with the blissed-out folks. Putting him with the ragers would be like adding oxygen to fire. She wished for Scarecrow’s or even Max’s help with this, but she’d have to make do with Jason. And Bree hoped she could count on Rick, at least for some things.
She parked her Jeep near Ms. Worton’s place on Painted Cliffs to search the walking trail behind the houses. Before leaving the Jeep, she checked her weapon: fully loaded plus one in the pipe. Bree slid the gun back into her thigh rig. Dressed in jeans and a tank top, she considered her exposed arms, but opted not to wear her leather jacket. Odds of seeing another mountain lion were extremely low. With no one around, she walked down the street, then ducked behind a house to find the trail.
Without a solid idea about what to look for, Bree hoped she’d know it when she saw it. She walked slowly, scanning left and right for anything unusual. The well-worn path attracted people from the neighborhood who wanted a nice walk with quick access. Not part of the official Sedona Trail system, it didn’t have any markers or a trail head.
A few minutes on the path, Bree ran into a young woman walking her small Yorkshire terrier. The dog pulled on its leash and sniffed Bree’s boots. She bent down to pet the dog. “Cute pup. What’s its name?”
“His name is Chauncey.” The woman smiled as she caught up to her dog and Bree.
“He’s a good looking guy. Aren’t you, Chauncey?” Bree rubbed his head as he pawed her leg. “How old is he?”
“Thanks. He’s just eight months.”
Bree stood back up and maintained her smile. “He’s still a puppy. He seems quite happy to be out here.”
“Yeah, he loves walking out here. Plus, it gets me out too.” The woman glanced down at Bree’s handgun for the second time, then to the bandage on her left arm. Arizona had been an open-carry state for a long time, but not many residents in Sedona openly carried firearms.
Wanting to put the woman at ease so she could get some information, Bree offered her hand. “I’m Bree. I’m moving to Sedona and checking out a couple of areas. Do you like this neighborhood?” Not technically a lie.
After switching the leash to her left hand, the woman shook Bree’s hand. “I’m Sophie. Yeah, it’s a great place. I’ve only lived here for about a year, but I love it. I didn’t know there were any houses up for sale in this area right now.” Sophie eyed Bree with suspicion.
“Oh, I don’t think there are; I know someone who lives a few houses down and just thought I’d look around. You never know when something might open up.” Bree kicked at the red dirt with the toe of her boot, torn between the direct approach to gathering information or a more discreet one. Her instincts had led her here and she had a good feeling she’d find something, but she didn’t want to alarm this woman and risk panicking the public.
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Did you know Ms. Worton? It’s awful what happened to her.” Bree dipped her chin out of respect.
“I’ve been away on business, but I did hear about Jackie. I can’t believe it. And the Sidwells. It’s crazy. I was only gone for a week-” Sophie’s voice trailed off.
A week. Shit. Sophie couldn’t have seen anything if she was out of town. Time to get moving. “Wow, that’s a lot to happen in a short time. I’m sorry.” Bree shook her head and let out a big sigh. “Hey, it was nice meeting you, Sophie. I’ve gotta go, but maybe I’ll see you around if I end up find
ing something in this neighborhood.” She forced a smile and gave the dog one last pat on the head.
“Oh. Sure. Okay. Nice meeting you too.” Sophie gave a slight tug on the leash. “Come on, Chauncey. Say goodbye to the nice lady.” With a warm smile and a quick wave she walked away, her Yorkie trotting behind.
A little over a quarter of a mile after leaving Sophie, Bree noticed footprints leading off the beaten path. Her intuitive voice told her to pay attention as this could be the clue she needed. A flash of fear had her worried about falling prey to whatever was causing people to wig out. Random images of the conspiracy nuts with their tinfoil hats to protect their brains from alien invaders gave her a chuckle. Lot of good those hats did when the Kusharians came. Poor bastards.
With a deep breath, she stepped off the path to follow the faint prints that led between two large Catclaw bushes. Native Americans used the leaves of the Catclaw Acacia as an anti-inflammatory for the stomach and to ease nausea and vomiting. Bree figured Max used it as one of the secret ingredients in his hangover smoothies.
However, getting hooked by the barbed claw-like spines wasn’t the way to benefit from this plant’s medicine, so Bree proceeded with caution. Once through the bushes unscathed, she used her tracking skills to look for more footprints or signs of human activity, officially known as spoor.
A broken branch on another shrub caught her attention. She regretted not wearing her leather chaps. Her jeans didn’t offer much protection from the spikes and needles, but she continued tracking. Keeping an eye out for tarantulas, snakes, and scorpions… oh my! The fauna became thicker the farther she got from the path.
About forty feet from the path, she found more spoor - several broken branches and prints heading behind another group of thick shrubs. She stopped to listen for any unusual sounds, not wanting another surprise like the mountain lion. Bree pulled her knife from her belt and flipped it open; too close to people and homes to use her gun. When she didn’t hear any activity, she took one step. And another. Following the fresh tracks.
Mind Sync Page 6
