72 St. Margaret’s Way Chapter 12
Madelyn’s scream broke off with a finality that would haunt James’s nightmares for years, not that he was aware of that right now. Bradley tore off of the rooftop with a speed James had never seen before, slamming through the door to the stairwell and disappearing as the creature took off, jumping to the next rooftop and off into the night. Amelia ran after Bradley as James looked in the direction the creature had gone, then hurried out right behind her.
They’d seen Madelyn fall. They all saw it pull her, fighting and screaming, to the edge of the building before tossing her over the side the way someone might throw an apple core in a trash can. On comms, Robin was yelling for updates, but all James could do was run down the concrete stairwell, terrified of what waited at the bottom.
The first thing he saw was Bradley crouched over Madelyn’s bent, motionless body. He was bare chested and, for a wild second, James was shocked that Bradley might be more concerned about Madelyn’s modesty than her safety when he saw his shirt draped over her still body. But as he got closer, with his phone to his ear already calling 911, he noticed with a lurch of terror and nausea that the shirt wasn’t covering her body. Her own green tee-shirt was soaked with blood and he could see the tear where a small sliver of her skin was visible beside the dark red stain of a gaping wound. Bradley was putting pressure on the wound while his shirt was draped half off of Madelyn’s body, covering…something, James wasn’t sure what, that had been pulled out from inside of her body. He didn’t want to realize that it was probably part of her intestines on the ground beside her.
Amelia screamed again and hurried over, clutching Madelyn’s hand as she fell at her other side, pleading unintelligibly as she pressed the hand to her mouth. As James gave the 911 dispatcher their information, he saw Madelyn’s half-open eyes darting back and forth. She was breathing and alive, and now that he saw it, he couldn’t bring himself to consider the alternative, even after he’d been so sure she was dead the entire way down those stairs. She breathed shallowly as Amelia talked to her between sobs, gripping her hand. Robin tried to comfort her too, his voice crackly on the comms.
Then the ambulance arrived, the dizzying lights disorienting James even more as they took Madelyn away, Amelia adamant she was going to the hospital with them. She was spattered with blood and mud as she moved just far enough to allow the paramedics to get Madelyn on the stretcher. Then she and Madelyn were gone, leaving James and Bradley alone at the base of the building, where Madelyn’s blood was soaking into the grass.
James shrugged off his sweatshirt and handed it to Bradley, who took it without a word. More of Madelyn’s blood came off his hands and streaked across the fabric as he pulled it on. “We’re…um, we’re going to the hospital now,” James told Robin.
“I’ll meet you there.”
Normally Robin was strict about having someone at headquarters at all times. But the comms disconnected a second later, leaving James in silence.
***
His head was a little clearer and he could open his dried, strained eyes, even as they protested the movement. The IV was still in place, but the restraints were gone and the room was quiet as James slowly sat up.
Another cup of antidote sat on the side table and he picked it up and drained it, the strawberry nauseatingly cloying as he forced it down. He’d probably be knocked out again soon and he was tired of it. He’d fucked up huge somehow, was probably going to be fired, and he needed to deal with that.
And he needed to talk to Madelyn. He needed to tell her he didn’t mean any of the cruel things he’d said and face up to the fact that he tried to hurt her. He’d apologize and then he’d do whatever she wanted him to do.
That was when he realized there were voices coming from the living room, too far from the bedroom for him to hear them clearly through the closed door. But it wasn’t the team. It was probably staff from the main branch here to figure out what to do with him.
Someone was shouting and as the room started to tilt a little where he was sitting on the side of the bed, James realized it was Bradley. What the hell? And was that Jolene now?
He should get out there and see what was going on. James wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he could find one, pull out the IV, and then join the meeting and accept that he was fired.
The bedroom door opened and Madelyn slipped inside. “Madelyn,” James choked out as the room lurched sickeningly. “Madelyn, I’m so sorry.”
She smiled at him and the shame and relief were overwhelming, even as he tried to stay upright. “Everything’s fine,” she said.
“I’m going to go out and…” James started, reaching for the IV in his arm as Madelyn hurried toward him.
“No, no no, leave it,” she said. “You’re still dehydrated, that’s all that is now. Leave that in.”
“-removing cases from the board,” James heard a heated voice saying through the open door as he relented and left the IV alone. “That compromises the entire mission of the Foundation. He intentionally-”
“I’m stopping you right there, Chris,” Jolene said as James felt the now-familiar burning of the antidote in his body. “You’re misrepresenting this and you know it. It’s a medical issue resulting from exactly the phenomenon being investigated. The chemicals in his blood match those found in the other victims and we’re using the same protocol to treat him. Captain McManus was a victim in this situation, not a perpetrator, and to claim otherwise is both inaccurate and cruel.”
“She’s right,” said…McGovern? What was he doing here?
“Dr. Oliver, your expertise is noted here, but this is moving into Foundation judicial matters,” the unfamiliar voice continued. “There is a procedure here and if you-”
“You want to talk procedure?” Bradley demanded. “Let’s talk procedure then. This motherfucker ignored established safety protocols, sent him in with insufficient preparation time, and-”
“Mr. Donahue, you are very close to another-”
Madelyn shut the door and the voices became too muffled to understand as the room tilted again.
“What’s…”
“We’ll talk later,” Madelyn promised, and James realized she was steering him back onto the bed. “Everything’s alright.”
“Bradley’s yelling.”
“Bradley’s always yelling,” she said as James forced himself to stay awake despite the fact she was laying him down on the pillow like a child. “It’s okay.”
He heard something click and the same voice from before was now detailing the days leading up to the Apollo 11 mission launch as the room went dark.
***
“…the water was so clear that you could see straight down to the bottom. And Raeanne went to push you off the dock, but you grabbed her and pulled her in with you. Oh my God, she was so mad but what did she expect?”
The next thing James heard was Gabriella’s voice. He forced his eyes open to see her beside him on the bed, propped up on the headboard. Her hand was in his and he had a flash of memory back to doing the same thing for Gran as she was dying in her bedroom several years earlier.
Gabriella looked down and smiled. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
“Water,” she said, handing him a glass.
It wasn’t the pink antidote, he noticed with relief. And as he reached for it, he realized the IV was gone.
James drank the water too quickly, the cold waking him up a little more. But before the reality of his situation could fully crash back down on him, Gabriella took the cup and handed him another, this one with the familiar sickeningly sweet herbal scent.
“I don’t want to sleep anymore,” James said. “Is there another option?”
“Jolene says absolutely not,” Gabriella replied, and he realized they’d prepared for this. “It’s scrubbing your blood and she said you don’t want to be awake for that.”
“It’s fine.”
“Not with her, it isn’t,” Gabriella shot back. “She had to leave, but she’ll be back tonight. Argue with her then.”
She just kept watching him and he finally relented, drinking the antidote as quickly as possible and handing the empty glass back to her.
“I fucked up,” James said, propping himself up a little higher against the headboard beside her.
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Fuck, the room was slipping away again and he just wanted to stay awake and talk this out. “I barely talked to her.”
Adele. The name made his already sensitive stomach lurch.
“You didn’t,” Gabriella said as she slid her arm around him. “We know that.”
“Yeah…Gabs, am I fired?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? They were saying…”
He couldn’t remember all of it. “There’s a procedure,” she said while he tried to keep his eyes from rolling back as he forced himself to stay awake. “Amelia has it under control.”
“Okay.”
“Remember the ice cream place near Uncle Mike’s cottage in Maine?” Gabriella asked him.
“Yeah,” James said as he closed his eyes.
“Which one did you always get?”
“Birthday cake batter or cookie dough.”
“Remember Sara would try to sample, like, seven of them before she chose a flavor?” Gabriella asked. “Gran used to get so frustrated with her, but she tried to do it every time.”
James laughed and took her hand again.
***
Had he been screaming? Why would be be screaming here? Normally Gran’s house was comforting for James. It had barely changed throughout his entire life, even after Gran died and Auntie Jules took over. But something was very wrong with it today and James couldn’t place what it was. He climbed the staircase, his hand sliding along the smooth wood of the railing the way it had for almost forty years now. He was in the same wooden stairwell, walking up and up and up, but the landing wasn’t there. And when he looked back down, there was only darkness behind him.
“Gran?” he called as he went. “Is anyone here?”
There was silence around him and the stairwell seemed to dip, going down as he continued to climb up.
He’d been here for a reason, right? He couldn’t remember exactly, as the staircase doubled in width and James walked along the sixth step for a seemingly endless amount of time. He was scared, but not as scared as he might have been. “Hello?” he called, his own voice echoing back at him.
The scent of baked chicken filled the stairwell so someone must be nearby. The windows were darkened and he couldn’t look out of them toward the yard and the woods beyond it. Something about it was familiar in a way that James couldn’t place, but he let that go as he walked.
He was here for work, not for Sunday dinner. No, he’d led a case here to Gran’s house.
“Gran?” he yelled again.
Maybe the team was here. “Amelia?” James called as he walked down a narrow stairwell near the back of the house. “Hey, Amelia? Are you here? Mads?”
Silence still, so quiet he could hear his heartbeat getting louder and louder behind his ears.
“Gabriella?” he yelled, his cousin’s full name feeling weird on his tongue. “Hey, anyone? Graham?”
Was he dead? “Bradley?” he called. “Graham? Anyone?”
Yeah, he’d been running a case with Bradley, that was it. James couldn’t remember what the case was, but he was definitely here for work.
Now he was in the second floor stairwell landing, looking down at the roof of the porch. He used to climb out there when he was younger. Gran caught him once and he thought he’d get in trouble, but she just told him not to break his goddamn neck. Which he hadn’t, to his credit.
But now James was lost in the place that comforted him more than any other. He wasn’t scared anymore, at least he didn’t think so. But he needed to get out of here.
“Bradley?” he called, voice raw from screaming he couldn’t quite remember. “Hey bud? I think it’s time to go.”
