Deep Down (Sam Stone Book 1) (4 page)

Stone gathered her into an embrace, pulling her against his muscled chest.  She felt the strong beat of his heart against her cheek as he stroked her hair.  “I’m just glad you’re okay.  That was one hell of an attack.  I’ve never seen you get so bad, so fast.”

Jenny nodded as he released her.  “I know.  It was odd.”

“Let’s get back inside.  Gilbert and Debbie are probably worried about you,” Stone said.

Jenny arched a brow at him in question.  She’d just met these people.  How could they be worried about her? 

Stone grinned at her, “They’re good people, Jenny.  Of course they would worry about you.”

Jenny wasn’t so sure.  As a writer, she was a sort of student of human nature, and, in her experience, most people just didn’t seem too concerned for the well being of strangers.

“We can check in with them to let them know you’re okay, and then, if you still want to, I’ll get us a ride out of here,” Stone assured her.

“No, I’ll stay.  I’m feeling better now and I don’t want to ruin the evening for everyone,” Jenny said.

Jenny was embarrassed as she rejoined the table, since they’d all been witness to the worst asthma attack that she’d ever had, but she needn’t have felt that way.  As Stone had said, his friends all showed only concern for her.

Debbie took her hand and patted it in a grandmotherly fashion, though the woman couldn’t have been more than a year older than Jenny’s own twenty-nine years. 

“That was just plain scary, the way you couldn’t breath so suddenly.  I’m so glad you had an inhaler handy!  I never realized that asthma could be so serious. I’m glad you’re okay.” Debbie told her as she continued the hand patting.

Alice volunteered to fill a plate from the buffet line for both Stone and Jenny, so that Jenny could stay at the table and Stone could be there beside her if she needed him.   Stone accepted her offer gratefully.

Cheryl and Paul rushed off to get her a glass of iced water, and Gilbert just looked at her from across the table with concern on his face, making none of the wise cracks that had had the entire table rolling with laughter earlier.

Jenny felt rather like an invalid, but she was touched by their concern.

Debbie must have realized that she was uncomfortable with all of the attention, because the wonderful woman quickly steered the conversation on to other topics as soon as Paul and Cheryl returned, asking everyone what their answer would be as they solved the murder mystery.  Then, Debbie announced that they should all join the buffet line while there was still a little food left, rescuing Jenny from the need to try to talk as she regained her breath.

Soon, Jenny was breathing normally again, with no telltale wheeze, and the stiff look of concern melted from Stone’s face.   Alice brought back their plates, and one for herself, as the buffet line dwindled and soon the rest of their small group returned to the table. 

As they all tucked into their meals, the performers began the second act of the murder mystery.

Jenny took a bite of the fluffy mashed potatoes on her place, expecting a burst of buttery goodness on her tongue, but to her surprise, the mashed potatoes tasted like strawberries to her.  She took another bite, just to confirm the odd taste.  Strawberries, fresh from the garden, met her taste buds instead of taste of mashed potatoes.

She glanced around the table, to see if the others were having similar problems, but only Stone was looking as if his food wasn’t quite right.  She caught his eye and raised an eyebrow in question, but he just shrugged.

What’s wrong with this food?
She wanted to ask him the question, but she wasn’t certain that it wasn’t just a leftover effect of the inhaler messing with her sense of taste.

Jenny sampled the roasted chicken, but the flavor was more like butterscotch pudding than baked meat.  The lovely green salad with Ranch dressing tasted like an unsavory tofu dish she’d once had, and the luscious-looking cheesecake slice didn’t taste anything like cheesecake.  It was more like garlic bread.

Confused at this plethora of odd tastes, Jenny laid down her fork.  It must have been the inhaler that had thrown off her sense of taste so badly.  The others, except for Stone, were all consuming their food as if it were ambrosia.  

Stone had lain his fork aside as well, and was now watching the actor’s performance as if it were the most engrossing thing he’d seen in three years.  His attention was so intense that it seemed a little forced.

She took a sip of her iced water, which, she was relieved to notice, tasted like water should.  As she glanced his way again, Stone coughed.

Jenny stared at him intently.  Stone did not have asthma.

Stone coughed again, this time violently.

Across the room, there was another bout of violent coughing from another patron. Then across the room, came more coughing.

Stone turned and took a large gulp of water from his glass, and Jenny noticed that his eyes looked strange.  They seemed to be all iris and no pupil.  His pupils had gotten so small as to be almost invisible inside the deep chocolate color of his irises.

Stone coughed again, and this time, he couldn’t seem to stop coughing.

He staggered to his feet in an awful repeat of her earlier performance and headed for the exit. Jenny thought she could see his lips turning blue as he coughed and coughed as he passed by her.

She leapt from her chair and followed after him, helping him through the exit much as he’d helped her earlier.  Though she had none of his strength, she tucked herself under his arm and tried to support his weight as he staggered into the tunnel.

Jenny’s mind was racing. Stone didn’t have asthma.  In fact, Stone was as healthy as an ox.  He rarely even caught a cold!

Jenny’s heart began to pound in terror as Stone collapsed to his knees, still coughing, just outside the exit.  His heavily muscled weight was too much for her to bear, and she went to her knees beside him.

“Stone!” she said, desperately trying to think of something to do for him.  He was coughing so violently now that she knew he could not drink water, so she offered him none, though there was a water fountain not three feet from where he’d collapsed.

Stone was wheezing, his pupils virtually gone from sight they’d constricted so tightly, and his lips were deeply tinged with an unhealthy blue-gray color.

Giving one last violent cough, Stone collapsed onto his side, his hands to his chest, grasping at his own flesh much as she had done earlier. 

As his eyes rolled back in his head, Jenny pulled the inhaler from her pocket and shook it three times, flicking the cap off in one smooth motion. She crammed it between his teeth and pushed down.

“Breathe in, Stone. Breathe!” she yelled at him, hoping he could still hear her.

In response, there was a rattling wheeze as he attempted to draw in some air.

Jenny took the inhaler away from his mouth, uncertain that she’d done the right thing.  It was her inhaler, after all, and not meant for him.  What if the meds harmed him in some way?

And it didn’t seem to be helping anyway.  Stone still couldn’t breathe.

Behind her, she could hear footsteps, but she didn’t pause to see who it was.   Unless it was a doctor, there was no one who could help Stone now but her.  She leaned down and pinched his nose closed as she fitted her lips over his.  If he couldn’t breath in enough to inhale the medication, she’d have to do it for him.

Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she blew it into his mouth as hard as she could.  She felt her own irritated lungs protest at the pressure, but she didn’t care.  This was Stone.  He was her
life
and she be damned if she was going to let him die without fighting to save him.  She’d give him her own last breath if he needed it.

Stone still didn’t seem to be able to draw in a breath on his own, so Jenny blew more air into his lungs.  Repeating the process again and again.

On the third breath, she felt Stone’s mouth twitch under hers, and then a soft puff of air expelled from his mouth.  She sat up and looked at his face for any signs of consciousness.

His eyes were closed, so she pried open a lid, then watched in amazement as the pupil in his eye expanded quickly back to its normal size. He drew in a tiny, shallow breath on his own.

Stone reached up and removed her hand from his face, then blinked his eyes at her.  He drew in a great wheezing breath and then attempted to sit up.

He was so weak from lack of oxygen that Jenny had to help him.  In moments, Gilbert was kneeling at his other side, helping Jenny get him into an upright position.

“Never seen anything like that, Stone.  What is going on with you two?  Do you
both
have asthma?”

Stone shook his head, and Jenny could tell that he was still unable to talk.

“Stone doesn’t have asthma.  Only I do.  There’s something else going on here.”

Gilbert’s forehead creased into a worried frown. “Something else?  Like what?”

“Did your food taste weird?” Jenny whispered as Debbie joined them, kneeling close by Gilbert’s side.

Debbie shook her head, “No, why? Did yours?”

“Yeah, but I thought it was just the meds from the inhaler messing with my sense of taste,” Jenny said.

One of the security guards stepped in close and Jenny was grateful to see him, thankfully noting that he was not the one who had held the kid at gunpoint earlier.

“We need to leave.  I’m taking my fiancé to the ER.  Can you arrange for a lift operator? And maybe some help to get him to the lift?” Jenny asked the man.

Stone’s hardhat had fallen to the hard-packed saltcrete floor when he’d passed out, and Debbie reached over to pick it up and put it back onto his head.

When the security guard did not answer her right away, Jenny stood up and faced him, one eyebrow arched in question.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that,” the guard finally said after a long pause.

“Why not? Surely there is some protocol for emergencies here?  I know the lift operator is down here somewhere.  Surely he can authorize an emergency use of the lift? And, you’ve got a radio.  Please use it to have someone call for an ambulance to meet us when we get up to the surface.”

“I don’t… need…” Stone wheezed heavily as he attempted to talk.  “… an… ambulance.”

Jenny could hear the pain in his voice, and she knew without a doubt that he was feeling the exact same pain in his lungs as she had earlier. She’d thought it was asthma, but there was obviously something wrong with the air down here if Stone, who was normally so healthy, was also having trouble breathing.

“Even if he doesn’t need an ambulance, we’re still leaving,” Jenny told the guard.  “Please get the lift operator.”

The guard’s face suffused with color, and he shook his head.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to have to ask you
all
to return to your seats.”

He cast a meaningful glance at Stone as he said the word ‘all’.

Jenny felt stunned.  The man had just witnessed Stone’s collapse, and still they couldn’t get an emergency ride out of the mines?  What kind of place was this museum?

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” Jenny said firmly, looking the guard right in the eye.  “He needs to get to a hospital.”

The guard’s face darkened even more, and he reached over and rested a hand upon the gun in the holster at his hip, as if to draw her attention to it.  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist as well.

“Now, wait just a minute,” Gilbert interjected, rising to face the guard and leaving Stone propped up against the wall with only Debbie to support him.

Jenny was glad to see that Stone seemed to have recovered enough so that he didn’t slide back over onto the saltcrete floor.

“There’s no need to threaten her.  She’s right.  Our friend needs medical attention. He needs to leave.  And, in fact, I think our entire group will be leaving now as well. I don’t like how we’re being treated,” Gilbert’s round face was red with angry color, and though he was several inches shorter than the guard, the guard took a step back at this exhibit of anger.

Jenny was impressed at Gilbert’s courage.  The guard was still fingering his weapon, and Gilbert was yelling at the man as if the implied threat didn’t matter.

Because of the close call she’d had with a violent aggressor, Jenny had spent hours and hours in self-defense classes, and she knew that the guard’s threatening manner did, in fact, mean something. As did his strangely nervous demeanor.  Something was not right here.

Stone’s wheezing had lessened, and he now rose slowly to his feet behind her despite Debbie’s protests that he should remain seated.  His heavy hand came to rest on her shoulder and he stepped forward toward the guard, moving in front of both her and Gilbert.

Jenny saw his eyes take in the guard’s stance, measuring the situation, then he sighed.

“I’m fine.  Let’s do as the man says and return to our seats,” Stone said.

Jenny saw relief flicker across the guard’s face and his nervous posture relaxed just a bit.

Gilbert began to protest, but Stone turned and placed his other hand on Gilbert’s shoulder.  “I’m fine.  Let’s talk at the table.”

Gilbert eyes widened almost imperceptivity, and then he glanced at the guard, then back at Stone.  Jenny could see the exact moment when he came to same conclusion that both she and Stone had just come to.  The guard would shoot them if he felt that he had to. 

The question was, why? They’d only asked to go to the hospital.