indeed. Please let us know if either of you need anything.”
As seemed to be the habit here, he left without saying goodbye. It seemed that people leaving didn't do that very often, say something as they left, certainly not if they might be coming back within even a few hours. She added this to her internal list of things to notice, just in case there was something to it. It could just be a business, or even a hospital, thing. If not, her saying goodbye all the time could end up being off-putting or maybe even rude. For all she knew saying it the wrong way could be a curse or a death threat or something.
The night nurse came in after dinner and gave her another shot of heroin, which she didn't feel she really needed but made sleeping easier. How people got hooked on the stuff was easy to see, a feeling of warmth and pleasure washed over her after a few seconds, temporarily removing all cares, all worries and left her feeling, good. Happy. She could still think, though nothing seemed all that pressing or important. Gwen was in a different world? Cool. Nothing to worry about there. Not at all. Stabbed in the heart? Well, what's a little stabbing between friends, right? No big thing.
She'd have to watch that. It would be too easy for her to pick up a bad habit like that, in this new situation, which wouldn't do at all. It didn't have to be drugs, it could be almost anything. Too much food, too much of whatever the local entertainment was, anything really. She'd need all her wits here just to survive. Especially if she wanted to help find and take down these killers.
Gwen didn't know the rules here. Not even the little social ones that everyone else took for granted. Who was allowed in the room when, or why everyone seemed uneasy around Bethany, even if the detective did stare a lot. Or for that matter why an obviously handicapped woman was a full detective here. Their version of equal opportunity? She couldn't even begin to understand how much she'd have to learn in order to survive.
One thing she did know though, these killers were like mad dogs. Smiles and friendly behavior or not. Really that had kind of made it worse. They'd killed before and they wouldn't stop until someone stopped them and from what the detectives had said, so far their best lead was Gwen.
So it was up to her to make sure they didn't kill any more innocent people if she could help it. Whatever that took.
Chapter four
Gwen opened her eyes – the room mainly dark, a figure standing next to her, looming – only the shattering pain in her chest as she rolled toward the figure, throwing a punch with her left fist, caused her to pull back in time. Barely. She could just vaguely make out the form of Bethany, the detective, in the low light that the hospital used at night, probably so that the nurses could check on people without waking them constantly.
“Fuck! Ow, that hurts.” She tried to breathe through the pain, hoping she hadn't ripped anything open with the move. Seeing that the other woman didn't shift at all, not even to step back from her aborted punch, Gwen asked what was wrong.
Her voice sounding better, the other woman answered crisply, far more energetic than before.
“I've worked through several possible scenarios as to what the perpetrators of these killings may do next, and have reduced the most likely actions down to two possibilities. The first is a similar attack, most likely within three days and no more than five miles from the point of your own assault. The second is sooner, but we have no chance of stopping it from happening, lacking time to gather the needed data, so our resources will be better spent on the first possibility.” Then she stood, waiting for something.
Her brain still sleep fogged, Gwen finally understood.
“Right, you need clothes and food. Then some form of
As seemed to be the habit here, he left without saying goodbye. It seemed that people leaving didn't do that very often, say something as they left, certainly not if they might be coming back within even a few hours. She added this to her internal list of things to notice, just in case there was something to it. It could just be a business, or even a hospital, thing. If not, her saying goodbye all the time could end up being off-putting or maybe even rude. For all she knew saying it the wrong way could be a curse or a death threat or something.
The night nurse came in after dinner and gave her another shot of heroin, which she didn't feel she really needed but made sleeping easier. How people got hooked on the stuff was easy to see, a feeling of warmth and pleasure washed over her after a few seconds, temporarily removing all cares, all worries and left her feeling, good. Happy. She could still think, though nothing seemed all that pressing or important. Gwen was in a different world? Cool. Nothing to worry about there. Not at all. Stabbed in the heart? Well, what's a little stabbing between friends, right? No big thing.
She'd have to watch that. It would be too easy for her to pick up a bad habit like that, in this new situation, which wouldn't do at all. It didn't have to be drugs, it could be almost anything. Too much food, too much of whatever the local entertainment was, anything really. She'd need all her wits here just to survive. Especially if she wanted to help find and take down these killers.
Gwen didn't know the rules here. Not even the little social ones that everyone else took for granted. Who was allowed in the room when, or why everyone seemed uneasy around Bethany, even if the detective did stare a lot. Or for that matter why an obviously handicapped woman was a full detective here. Their version of equal opportunity? She couldn't even begin to understand how much she'd have to learn in order to survive.
One thing she did know though, these killers were like mad dogs. Smiles and friendly behavior or not. Really that had kind of made it worse. They'd killed before and they wouldn't stop until someone stopped them and from what the detectives had said, so far their best lead was Gwen.
So it was up to her to make sure they didn't kill any more innocent people if she could help it. Whatever that took.
Chapter four
Gwen opened her eyes – the room mainly dark, a figure standing next to her, looming – only the shattering pain in her chest as she rolled toward the figure, throwing a punch with her left fist, caused her to pull back in time. Barely. She could just vaguely make out the form of Bethany, the detective, in the low light that the hospital used at night, probably so that the nurses could check on people without waking them constantly.
“Fuck! Ow, that hurts.” She tried to breathe through the pain, hoping she hadn't ripped anything open with the move. Seeing that the other woman didn't shift at all, not even to step back from her aborted punch, Gwen asked what was wrong.
Her voice sounding better, the other woman answered crisply, far more energetic than before.
“I've worked through several possible scenarios as to what the perpetrators of these killings may do next, and have reduced the most likely actions down to two possibilities. The first is a similar attack, most likely within three days and no more than five miles from the point of your own assault. The second is sooner, but we have no chance of stopping it from happening, lacking time to gather the needed data, so our resources will be better spent on the first possibility.” Then she stood, waiting for something.
Her brain still sleep fogged, Gwen finally understood.
“Right, you need clothes and food. Then some form of
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