Relentless (Elisabeth Reinhardt Book 1) (15 page)

They were right behind her, about 50 yards back pounding after her like a pack of wild dogs, screaming obscenities, threats, calling her name.  She heard them running, heavy boots hitting the earth, clattering through the forest, thundering after her.
‘Run’
she shrieked to herself.
‘
Run
….
Run
….
’
Terror flooded her body as she flew through the forest. She was free. She had to run, keep running. Branches tore at her face and hair. She was half naked, covered in blood. But she ran like the wind…her feet barely touched the earth. They were gaining on her.
Oh my G-d
,
Hurry!
She risked a quick glance over her shoulder yelping as she saw his face. That horrible, bloody face….. Snarling and screaming. There were two of them tearing after her…. Two big, crazed, wild beasts! Where was the other one? Hadn’t there been three? ‘Water,’ she thought, ‘run toward the water.’ But she was lost. Where was the water? Trees blurred as she streaked past them. Isolated and terrified, she ran … she couldn’t stop. Her legs moved involuntarily speeding, leaping over tree trunks. Her feet were numb -- bare -- gashed by rocks and branches – biting pine needles.  The soles of her feet had been shredded by the forest floor… she hardly felt the pain ….
‘
RUN
….’

Screaming s
he lurched upward gasping for air, in a cold sweat. Her hands flew up to her mouth choking off a scream. She was sobbing, near hysteria. It had been so real so completely terrifying. She felt pain throughout her body, her chest, between her legs. Her feet throbbed. She smelled the pine forest, she smelled her own blood. She heard their footsteps vivid, pounding the earth, gaining on her… a few feet behind her. She couldn’t catch her breath. She gasped. Her heart pounded as she glared through the darkness. The room was silent and calm, neutral tones, soft and upholstered. She tried to breathe…heard tiny groans and sobs. The nightmare had been so real. It still felt real. She reached for her cat, but Twinkie was perched warily at the edge of the bed, ready to leap. She reached for her water glass and took a drink, reassuring herself that she was alive, she was in her bedroom and awake. Pulling her iPad onto her lap she began to type.

The pieces were falling into place
, tumbling over one another as she remembered. She had hidden inside a rotten log. They had searched and screamed her name for hours swearing they’d kill her when they found her. She remembered that she nearly had a heart attack when they stomped across the log she’d crawled into. She held her breath so long she thought she might die. She spent a freezing night scrunched up in that log; unknown things crawled on her, bit her, but she hadn’t moved, had hardly breathed. She had few recollections of that horrid night. Maybe she passed out, she didn’t know but dawn found her alive and alone in the forest. Injured and weak, she made her way to the river where she soaked, letting the currents wash away the blood, sweat and filth. The freezing cold of the water helped numb the pain as she swam across the river and made her way to the only place she could think of, Mrs. Goodwin’s house. Teeth chattering in the October wind, she stood on the tiny porch half naked and covered with wounds. Edna Goodwin squealed in alarm, pulled her into the kitchen and folded her into her arms. Reggie weeping from pain, cold and fear fell limp and helpless into her counselor’s arms. Mrs. Goodwin tended to her wounds, got her warm clothing and hot tea to drink. Later when she put food on the table, Reggie ate like a starving animal. While the girl ate, Mrs. Goodwin called a nurse practitioner friend who made an emergency visit, examined her, bandaged her feet and other wounds and prescribed a broad spectrum antibiotic. The nurse strongly recommended hospitalization to determine the extent of her injuries but Mrs. Goodwin refused saying it simply wasn’t safe. So Reggie hid in Mrs. Goodwin’s house for two months, letting her body heal. She was young and healthy and eventually she recovered. She and her benefactor spent hours talking about what had happened, what her life had been like on the farm and what to do next.

During the night,
the drapes were pulled tight and Reggie was free to roam the house, but during the day she hid in the basement in case anyone came looking for her. No one ever came. She thought for sure her parents would contact the police. But it turned out that they didn’t. No police report had ever been filed. Mrs. Goodwin heard through the grapevine that several older boys were asking about her around town. They were bad boys, everyone said. These boys had been in Juvenile Court and had done time in the detention center. There were lots of rumors about these boys. Rumors that they hurt some girls, even rumors that they had raped some girls, but there was no proof of that. Word that they were looking for Reggie Lee got to her friend Rhoda Eades and the women began to hatch a plan about how to permanently protect Reggie Lee Raines.

In the darkness of her room, p
ropped up against her pillows, Gina typed and typed. Bit by bit she remembered what had happened that last day on the farm. Jake had grabbed her as was leaving the hen house. He and his buddies dragged her up the mountain to a remote shack.

They had had her there once before.
They had hurt her, but they let her go. They untied her and watched her run down the mountain. This time it was worse, much worse. As she typed she remembered every detail of that room. The worn wooden floor, the dirty blanket, and the ropes they tied her with. She remembered how they smelled, how they looked, the horrid things they said and the pain they caused. Over and over again, they had taken turns with her. She remembered all of it.

After a few hours of torture, they stopped and looked at her. She was in really bad shape. She’d passed out again and they couldn’t wake her up. They began to worry. What are we going to do with her? “We’ll have to get rid of her,” Jake said, twisting the knife in his hands.  From a deep foggy place she heard the
m talking.

“I guess we went too far,” they said, “we can’t cover this up, even if she tries to lie, people will see what a mess she is.” Jake could not risk that. He lived here.

“We’ll bury her in the forest,” he said, “She’ll never be found.”

They argued among themselves about this. The heavy set kid, whose name she didn’t remember
, begged them not to. He said sex was one thing, but killing was another. Their argument turned them against each other pushing and shoving.

That kid said, “Just let her go. She’ll make up some story and they’ll believe her and it will all blow over.” The other two disagreed.  They thought that the only answer was to kill her. They sent him away to get a shovel.

Thinking she was unconscious, Jake sliced through her ropes and turned her over. That’s when she bucked free. In a wild-eyed frenzy, she grabbed the knife from Jake’s unsuspecting fingers and started slicing through the air.

“Don’t come near me,” she shrieked. “Touch me and I’ll kill you,” she shouted. 

Jake bullheaded and enraged reached for her and she sliced his face from eye to chin with the tip of his knife. Jake screamed and grabbed his gushing cheek, Slim rushed to help him and in the chaos, Reggie flew out the door. She ran half naked, blood poured from her wounds, but adrenaline surged through her body and she bolted through the forest while they chased her. Somehow she had escaped them. She guessed that the gash on his face slowed them down.

Safe in her Chicago condo, Gina typed furiously, tears streaming down her cheeks.  She was flooded with feelings, details, terror.  Memories long suppressed, re-emerged fully formed, as vivid as the day they occurred. Her body felt the pain, her pulse pounded, her heart raced. She sat there typing down every thought until daylight arrived. She stumbled to the shower remembering
everything now... she had a clear sequential picture of events as they had unfolded.

She was
14 years old and she had lived through traumas that few people can even imagine. On that day, at 14, she knew with certainty she could never return to that place. It was no longer her home. Those people were no longer her family. There was no safety there. No future for her there. No matter what it took she had to get away. She had run through that forest and kept on running. She had never looked back.

The plane from Salt Lake City arrived 2 hours late. The two surgical teams
had been assessing and planning; they now convened in the pre-op conference room, reviewed notes and possible scenarios. This would be the first time the team could actually examine the prosthetic devices for these babies. The team hoped that the devices had been fabricated according to the specifications provided. They were anxious to see them, to maneuver them so they could decide exactly how to use them during the surgery. They had been fabricated so that each spinal disc could be individually installed. That gave them more options. And of course, they had no way of knowing exactly what they would encounter once the incisions were made. How the arteries, muscles and bones were arranged, and how to divide the two conjoined bodies would not be known until the spines were exposed and the actual surgical site could be scrutinized. Blood flow was a major consideration, especially blood flow to the heart and brain, but, of course, all major organs played essential roles in the health and well-being of the babies.

Team Jane sat across from Team Judy. The Chiefs of Orthopedics and Neuro
surgery secured opposite ends of the conference table. All other team members were scattered throughout the room. The non-clinical staff, including the head of public relations, sat along the inside walls, while the team escorts sat outside in the hallway.  Everyone was attentive and focused. The lives of two babies were in their hands and the eyes of the world were upon them. Tension traversed the air like lightning bolts. When the prosthetic company representatives arrived and arranged the devices in various sizes and configurations in large display cases, the meeting got underway.  The ‘reps’ presented each item to the group like they were lecturing at a sales meeting.  A sample of each prosthetic device was passed around the room so that everyone present could examine and maneuver it. Each sample device had two identical duplicates, which were encased in airtight sterilized containers ready for use during the operation.

The surgical team reviewed all possible scenarios for each infant.  Strategies for every possible contingency were outlined and recorded. Each team member was given the chance to weigh in on each alternative.  Plans A through G were developed in detail and rehearsed.  At 11 PM the meeting ended with the decision that the initial stage of the surgery would commence at 7AM the following morning. Staff members filed out, tired, but resolute. D
octors Reynolds and Reed walked into the NICU to check on the babies for the last time and write up orders for the night.  Night staff had begun to prepare the infants for the procedure the following day.  The escorts paired up with their charges and within 10 minutes the conference room and hallways were nearly cleared and silent. Only nurses were left to care for the sleeping infants.

In the hallway, near the elevator, a middle-aged Hispanic man pushed his soapy bucket, his hand on the top of a well- worn mop.  He was a large man, greying at the temples
with thick eyebrows and alert brown eyes. He watched as the team members left the conference room and scattered down corridors and into intersecting hallways.  As he turned his back to the open hallways, he slipped a hand over the top of the mop, dislodged a tiny camera and slid it into his pocket. A nearly imperceptible smile emerged as Dr. Reynolds and her escort approached the elevator. They were chatting about the lateness of the hour and the state of traffic in the city. The escort a naïve young man in his early 20’s was rattling off an up-to-the-minute report of the most recent hospital and press activities. It seems that one of the TV News stations had gotten word of the impending surgery the following morning. Disregarding protocol prohibiting public disclosure of hospital information, the escort revealed a story about media people going undercover and some staff members taking bribes for information. A hospital-wide investigation was underway and the police had been called in. It was a scandal that the hospital could ill afford. The Pickering parents, hysterical to begin with, were escalating about having members of the press invading their privacy. “How dare they make a public spectacle of our babies,” the angry mother had declared. “Our babies aren’t a circus act!” The reporter pushed back with more questions and the mother shouted profanities at him, which got the cameraman involved and then the angry father pushed the cameraman, who fell backwards hitting his head and breaking his camera. The Medical Director’s office had gotten involved, as had several lawyers representing all aggravated parties and the circus surrounding the conjoined twins exploded into a kaleidoscope of craziness. The newspaper agreed not to sue the parents or the hospital for damage to their cameraman and camera. The hospital agreed not to sue the newspaper or the cameraman for trespassing; the family agreed not to sue the hospital or the newspaper for public embarrassment, the hospital treated the wounded cameraman pro bono and an agreement was reached that this newspaper, reporter and cameraman would be given exclusive advance rights to medical information if everyone agreed not to bring charges against everyone else.

“And this afternoon t
he twins’ family was moved to the Hilton with guards posted at their door,” the escort rattled on. “I hear that the Medical Director said ‘they are to be treated like royalty.’”  The escort was chattering on as the elevator reached level 4 and the doors glided open.  Pushing his bucket in front of him, the janitor followed until the couple turned down the lower ramp then he abandoned his bucket and sprinted to his car discarding his uniform as he ran. Sliding behind the wheel he shadowed Dr. Reynolds and her escort until they pulled up in front of a condominium facing the waterfront. Pulling into a parking space he watched the two of them enter the building.  When he saw lights go on in the Doctor’s condo, he switched off his car and strode purposefully across the street.