She yelped as it pinched and stung.
“You think you beat me.” He bared his teeth as he pushed the plunger, and she felt a liquid swoosh into her body.
“What did you do?” She moaned as she wondered what poison he’d fed into her body. . . as the alarms blared and chaos grew. Panic built as her vision narrowed.
He stood and stepped back. Then he pivoted and disappeared.
She lay there panting, trying to stop the stampede of elephants in her head.
She was going to be sick.
She had to get up.
But she couldn’t move.
“What’s going on in here?” A woman’s intense voice penetrated her out-of-control thoughts. Then footsteps followed. A moment later, the footsteps retreated. “I need help.”
The voice was so loud.
“He was here.” She meant the words to be loud, but she couldn’t get them to come out that way. What was wrong with her?
“Ms. Ellis? Where are you?”
“Down here.” Bridget tried to push to her feet. She could let go of the call button now. Help was here. She’d done what she needed to. For Eliza. For her. So she could let go. She wanted to let go. Why couldn’t she let go? “What’s wrong?”
A man knelt next to her. Picked up the syringe. The man had left it behind. Sloppy of him. Wasn’t it? Or was it? Did he feel so certain it didn’t matter?
The man gently patted her cheek as if to wake her. “What happened?”
“I was shot.” She pointed at the shot. Giggled. Frowned. Tried again to press up. “I don’t feel good.”
“Has she been drinking?” He looked at the nurse who was working on Eliza.
“Hasn’t had time. She’s been here all day.”
He held up the syringe. “This was next to her.”
“What on earth? Is it labeled?”
“No.”
“Get her something sweet STAT.” She rushed to add something to the IV bag. “I’m adding glucose to the patient’s drip. Where is our help?”
“Must still be with the other patient. I’ll be back.” The man stepped away, and Bridget wanted to call him back.
It felt safer to have two people in the room. What if the first man returned? He wouldn’t circle back for a third time. Would he?
Where had he gone?
“Can you tell me what he did to you? To Eliza?”
“No.” Bridget pushed the word out. Why were her thoughts getting harder to line up? “He didn’t care I was here.”
“We were watching for strangers.” The woman sounded frustrated, but Bridget couldn’t get off the floor to check.
The floor was cool. It had to be dirty. A bad idea to be down here. But she’d need help to move. She had to get up.
“If he gave you insulin, you should be able to ambulate. Unless you’re diabetic. Are you diabetic?”
