72 St. Margaret’s Way Chapter 11
He shot Bradley. The gun wasn’t in his hand anymore, but he’d requisitioned one and then he’d used it to shoot Bradley through the head. Now Bradley was lying on the hallway carpet, his blood dark red and tacky as it soaked into the old fabric around him.
James didn’t want to kill him, but he’d threatened Adele. Just like Amelia and Madelyn, whose bodies were lying in the living room right now. At the other end of the hall, he could see Madelyn’s hand reaching out from where she’d landed, and the top of Amelia’s head, the blood mingling with the red hair dye she’d been so excited about.
James screamed, staring down at Bradley’s body. Where was the gun? He’d shot all three of them, but where was the gun? Why had he done that?
“Jesus Christ, what are you doing?”
Bradley spoke to him from the floor, glaring up from just below the bullet hole in his forehead. James had tried to make it painless and instant, but he wasn’t a marksman. And he’d gone to shoot him from behind so Bradley wouldn’t know. But he’d turned around, hadn’t he?
Then there were hands steering him roughly back into the bedroom and he realized it was Bradley, who was not dead. The blood was gone, the bodies were gone, and the living Bradley moving him back toward the bed he didn’t remember leaving looked pissed.
“Stay there,” he demanded.
“I shot you,” James said.
“No you didn’t.”
“I ordered a gun?”
“Yeah, you sure did. That was a fun receipt to receive.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Goddammit,” Bradley muttered. “Come on, lie down. You’re hallucinating and you’re going to fucking hurt yourself.”
James grabbed Bradley’s arm. “There’s nothing there for us.”
“That’s not creepy at all, McManus,” Bradley said. “Come on, get back in bed. Don’t move unless you have to, like, piss or something.”
“No…” James murmured, trying to ignore the figure moving across the ceiling above him. That wasn’t real either. But he couldn’t help lifting his eyes to trace its movement out of the gray bedroom and into the pink bedroom, where it disappeared around the corner.
Bradley sighed and took James’s face in his cold hand, steering his head back down to look him in the eye. “Listen,” he said, patting the side of James’s face briskly, redirecting his gaze as it started to wander away. “Hey, listen to me. I don’t know what you’re seeing, but everyone is alive and you are still gone on whatever’s in the antidote. So lie down, don’t fucking move, and just go back to sleep.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Bradley’s eyes were dark brown, almost black. James liked his eyes. But they’d been open when he was dead on the floor a minute ago.
“It’s fine,” Bradley said, glancing behind him into the hallway as James watched another shadow figure skitter across the ceiling and out the top of the window. “It’s my fault, I left you alone in the room. Just…okay, there’s a situation that South County’s giving us a hand with, and I’m on comms with them. It’s going to take me another fifteen minutes, tops. But it’s three in the morning and I’m alone on the shift. So can you not, like-” He gestured around them. “For fifteen more minutes?”
James nodded, still looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll check in in a couple minutes,” Bradley said.
“They’re all over the ceiling,” James said as the shadows converged around the ugly old light in the center of the room. “I’m sorry.”
“Fuck it,” Bradley said. “Let me see if I can set up comms in here on a laptop. The comms computer is gone anyway.”
Hadn’t James done that? There were more shadows crawling on the ceiling and he could swear he saw her eyes up there.
***
“James, hey can you hear me?”
Jolene was talking to him. James groaned, forcing himself to open his eyes. The bed was spinning beneath him and his body felt covered in paper cuts as he licked his dry lips. “Hmm?”
“Do you want a popsicle?”
“What the fuck?” James murmured, letting his eyes fall shut again.
“You keep throwing up all the water,” Jolene said.
“Sorry.”
“Do you think you can eat a popsicle?”
“I don’t like popsicles.”
“That’s true,” Gabriella said from somewhere nearby. “He’s weird like that.”
“You can have mine, Gabs.”
“Here, sit up.”
Jolene was shifting him upright now and he tried to help her, eventually landing awkwardly against the headboard. “What time is it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Eight in the morning.”
James nodded, his head clearing slightly. He’d dreamed about murder again, Amelia specifically. Before that, he remembered talking to Bradley last night. He’d fallen asleep as Bradley was swearing on comms with someone and fallen back into nightmares sometime later. And he kept killing his best friend, though he never saw himself do it.
“Is Amelia okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Gabriella said, sounding confused. “She’s fine.”
He nodded. “Can I have some water?”
“Drink it slowly,” Jolene told him as she handed him a glass.
He did so, the room staying quiet as he drank the water. As he was handing the glass back to Jolene, Amelia came in.
“Hey,” she said with a smile.
“I’m sorry.”
Her smile fell, but she sat on the side of the bed and took his hand. Gabriella hesitated, then came over and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll be back in a little while,” she said as he closed his eyes.
“Great,” he murmured. “Go get some rest. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He looked up at Jolene, whose exhaustion was obvious underneath the competent, comforting exterior he could see fraying. “You should rest too, Jolene,” he said as his stomach twisted ominously. “You can have my couch, it’s better than the beds.”
“That’s not actually the delirium talking,” Amelia said. “It’s a great couch.”
Jolene smiled gratefully at James. “Thanks.”
He smiled back and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, James was starting to doze off again, though it didn’t seem like they wanted him to. But it was okay, he’d wake up if he had to go somewhere.
“If he keeps that water down, then we might be good to keep going,” Jolene said. “But I think his body needs a break. We’re three days in, it’s a process.
“What if we just stopped now?” Amelia asked. “He’s a lot better than he was. Would it wear off the rest of the way on its own? We had those other people, the ones who got married and then realized what happened. It wore off in them, right?”
“Yes and no,” Jolene said quietly. “It wore off at least partially on its own, but we’re treating them too. It could lay dormant in his system for years if we don’t get rid of it now.”
Years. He could have this inside him for years and then one day he might snap, kill all his friends, and go find – his insides felt cold at the thought – Adele again.
“Please keep going,” he said, opening his eyes.
They both jumped, seemingly unaware that James had been listening. “I’m fine,” he said. “Keep going.”
“You’re not fine,” Jolene argued. “You’re dehydrated. Do you not remember puking four times this morning?”
No, he did not. “If I take the popsicle, can we keep going?”
Jolene paused and it seemed like maybe she was about to agree, but then James was onto Round Five. Amelia swore and swung a bin into his lap to catch the water as it came back up.
A moment later, James and Jolene were alone in the room while Amelia took the bin away, despite James’s assurance he could definitely clean it himself. Even if Jolene had to help him get a dry shirt on, he should still do that.
“We’ll take a day off, then restart it,” Jolene said as James tried to focus on her face. “I’d like to get you rehydrated. You already weren’t in great shape when we started the process and it takes a lot out of you. I’ll give you some medicine to keep you comfortable while we do that.”
“I’m fine, you don’t-”
“I don’t have to,” she said. “But if you’re in pain and panicking, it’s going to take longer. Outside of it being a horrible experience I don’t want you to deal with.”
They shouldn’t be worrying about that, not after what he did. And either Jolene was also psychic or it was just obvious, because she looked sad. “James,” she said, glancing toward the door. “None of this is your fault.”
He shrugged, since there was nothing else to say to that. “Okay.”
At least now he didn’t have to eat a popsicle.
***
“As NASA planned the mission, the landing site was among their most critical decisions. They needed to find a place that fit all the criteria. Otherwise, the shuttle risked damage. And that far from home, a single tiny issue could mean the difference between life and death.”
Someone was talking nearby as James woke up, a smooth newscaster voice penetrating the sludgy darkness behind his eyes. His head and side hurt, but the fire in his veins was gone.
He breathed shallowly, trying not to move. As he tried not to think of Adele, his thoughts of course went straight to her. But there was no burning love, no explosion of feelings, just revulsion and fear. And anger, toward both of them.
But he couldn’t wake up all the way, probably because of the medication Jolene said she was giving him during the break. He was kind of awake though, and the voice now detailing a few potential landing sites for Apollo 11 was reassuring, even though he couldn’t seem to open his eyes or hang onto his thoughts for very long. He was alone, James was sure of it. There was nobody in the room with him. Wasn’t that dangerous? What if he tried to hurt someone?
Then he went to move his arm and realized he couldn’t. Or, he could, but only an inch before stopping sharply, something digging into his wrist. He was restrained.
James forced his eyes open. The room was dim, but there was sunlight behind the closed shades. While he was sleeping, someone had put railings on either side of the bed. And then they’d used wrist restraints to keep him in place with his arms by his sides.
An IV line stuck out of his inner elbow and he blearily traced it to a clear bag full of liquid hanging beside the bed. Right.
He tried to find outrage, but there was only fear. And the moon landing, the familiar story told in comforting tones somewhere nearby. His scratched wrist hurt, but someone would be back, right? They wouldn’t leave him like this forever, even if he was a danger to the team.
There was a note taped to the headboard. James blinked at it as Graham’s handwriting came into focus.
James –
Emergency situation in Worcester. Amelia’s on her way back in, she’ll be 20 min. South County has comms. Jolene is sleeping in your office. I’m sorry about the restraints, they’re just to keep you safe until Amelia gets there.
-Graham
Emergency? He should be helping. He gave the restraints a tug, but they were solidly in place. Before he could panic, or panic as much as he could with this heavy fog in his head, he heard the front door open.
“Just me!” Amelia called as he closed his eyes again.
“And that was the last step they needed to settle. The crew was ready for their mission.”
***
“Draw two, motherfucker!”
The familiar laughter pulled James up out of that dark place where Adele couldn’t touch him. It felt less real though, like a dream. Maybe it was a dream now. He felt peaceful, warm and fuzzy in here with his friends nearby.
Amelia’s triumphant laugh was joined by the sound of Madelyn swearing, then crowing in triumph. “Reverse,” she said. “Then draw four! Oh! Go fuck yourself!”
James opened his eyes slightly and saw the two of them sitting on the other bed, a deck of Uno cards messily stacked between them. Right. He’d played Uno with them before, and the two of them played by house rules undecipherable to anyone who hadn’t been playing with them since they were eight years old.
“Do you have a three?” Madelyn asked as James closed his eyes again, feeling safer than he had since this whole nightmare began, even if he couldn’t remember the details of the nightmare right now.
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“Obviously.”
“Give me your threes.”
Amelia grumbled, but there was a shuffling sound. “And twenty dollars,” Madelyn added.
“Wasn’t it ten last time?”
“Inflation, bitch.”
James felt Amelia move past him as she got off the other bed. As she came back, her hand ran gently over his arm and up toward his hair, smoothing it back off his face.
“That reminds me, I told Jolene I’d call her at three,” Amelia said around a yawn. “She wanted to start it back up tomorrow morning, but those assholes are going to be here too.”
“How much longer is the antidote sequence?” Madelyn asked.
“I think it’s about halfway done, but I don’t know for sure,” Amelia admitted as James opened his eyes and looked up at her. She looked at him, then jumped slightly before she laughed.
“Hey,” she said.
“Who’s hurt?” he asked her.
There was something he needed to remember, but it wasn’t coming to him now. He looked at Madelyn. It was bad. It was something really bad, but it was hiding.
“We have everything under control, go back to sleep,” Amelia said gently. “Your body needed a break from the antidote, do you remember?”
James barely remembered the antidote was a thing as he gazed up at her. “I love you,” he murmured.
He didn’t expect her to cry, but she did, the tears running down her cheeks suddenly. “Hey, it’s okay,” James said softly, reaching out to brush them away, but unable to get there before his arm collapsed.
He looked at the IV still in his inner forearm. “Jolene switched the meds,” Madelyn said. “She’s got you on the good shit now. How are you feeling?”
He’d done something to Madelyn and he vaguely thought maybe it was unforgivable. “I’m good,” he said softly, smiling at her.
“Just take a break a little longer,” Amelia said, wiping her eyes. “We’re just past the midway point, I think.”
Right, James had been mind-controlled by a suspect on a case. He’d worry about that later.
“Hey,” he said, forcing his limp hand up just enough to gesture for her to come back over.
Amelia got up from the other bed and came back, leaning in close. “What’s up?”
Again, he tried to reach up and touch her cheek, but couldn’t. “I lied,” he whispered. “You’re the coolest lesbian I know.”
She laughed. It was watery, but real, so James was satisfied as he smiled adoringly up at her. She ran her hand over his hair. “Get some rest,” she said, then went over to the other bed.
Madelyn picked up her Uno hand. “Eights count as pick up eight,” she said, putting Amelia’s twenty dollar bill in the discard pile before pulling a red eight with deliberate motions and a grin over at James.
“I’m putting you on midnight Market Basket tonight,” Amelia moaned.
James smiled back at Madelyn. “What happened at Market Basket?” he asked.
If Amelia answered, he didn’t hear it as he closed his eyes again.
***
James turned his head and squinted into the corner of the room, which was still moving around him. It was dark in here, but he wasn’t alone. Gabriella was asleep on top of the covers of the other bed. James was restrained again and the IV was still in place, but the moon landing was gone and the room was quiet except for the little sounds of the house around them.
He’d screamed, hadn’t he? He vaguely remembered screaming and maybe falling on the floor? The burn of the rug seemed real, but so did the visions of his friends’ bodies on the floor around him, so maybe none of it had been real.
He blinked heavily, still looking at the corner of the room closest to him. Unlike the earlier hallucinations of Adele and shadow figures, James knew this one was real. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice dusty and weak. “You’re not alive anymore, why are you here?”
There was silence in the room and his heart beat heavily in his throat. “I don’t know what to do,” James said, his eyes falling shut again as a tear escaped and slid down the side of his face. “Can you tell me? Please tell me what to do.”
