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“I’m not going to torture you,” I said, dragging him the few feet to the basin, the slippery floor helping me as I got him into position. “I’m going to kill you,” I said, my voice level, the pure fact-based statement scaring me a little. Before he could respond, or think about it even, I forced his head into the water. You don’t need an ocean to drown someone, only the right incentive, a few inches of water and a well-placed knee on their back. He instantly fought against me, arms flailing and trying to get hold of me. I punched him in the kidney, hearing his muffled voice in surprise as the pain shocked him.
“No,” I heard Hansen behind me.
I shook my head, trying my best to ignore him.
“Don’t do this,” he continued. I heard him step closer, knew that he was perfectly able to drag me off Thomás. Water splurged everywhere, but not enough of it to give the man under me air to breathe. I turned my head to Dr. Morris, silently imploring her for help. I had enough trouble holding one man down, and he was decidedly smaller than the one coming to interrupt me.
“Stop, Detective,” she said as she grabbed his hand and at the same time the beautiful bouquet I had laid on the table.
“Let her do her job,” she commanded as she held the bouquet out. It withered and rotted in front of him. The flowers crumbled and fell between her fingers to the floor, landing as dirt. “Let her do her job, so I, in return, can do mine.”
The threat was clear. If she had to choose between Hansen and her three helpless patients…well, there wasn’t a choice.
He remained where he was. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear him. “Please don’t do this,” he said, barely audible over the thrashing man under my knee.
Panic had set in now. I turned my head away from both the doctor and Hansen. There was no doubt in my mind. I didn’t think ahead. No what-ifs. That would only weaken my resolve. Yet a small part of me hoped I was right.
Thomás’ body started convulsing, thrashing under me. No thought of escape now. Only his lungs screaming for air, using his whole body as a mouthpiece. I held as hard as I could, my only advantage being on top of him, pressing him down, every second weakening him.
Then he stopped moving.
His body forced water down his lungs.
I didn’t let go, though. It could be a ruse.
It felt like I held him there in silence for an eternity before Dr. Morris’ voice broke through.
“Maggie?”
I jerked a little, then nodded. With my free hand, I checked his pulse, finding that little place under the ear. There was no throbbing to feel. I let him go then, got up on my feet and stepped back. I realized I was shaking, but I turned to the bed as I noticed Dr. Morris going for the lifeless body of Thomás, getting his face up from the water.
I stared at Michael, who in turn stared right past me, toward the door. My heart was pounding in my chest, overpowering any sound in the room. I gripped the railing on the hospital bed, trying to calm the incessant thudding in my ear. The smell of disinfectant almost made me gag a moment. And I didn’t dare look at Hansen. Could sense him standing there, but I kept my eyes on Michael.
He stared straight ahead, eyes bland, and I thought I had seriously misjudged this. Thought that Thomás’ hold on his prisoners would be broken if he died. It had happened before. I knew very well that the doctor might not be able to bring Thomás back. It didn’t always work.
And then…shaking and weak fingers found my hand.
I gasped and looked down, seeing Michael’s hand trying to cling to mine. I drew breath then, making my lungs hurt a moment as I looked up and saw the kid meet my eyes. He was weak, and couldn’t speak, but it didn’t matter. He was moving.
I heard what had to be a defibrillator behind me but didn’t turn to look. For Andrea’s sake, I hoped he would be brought back, but I kept my eyes on Michael. He managed a relieved smile.
At least it had been worth it. I could only hope the same had happened to the rest, and God knew how many others out there. This had not been Thomás’ first time.
I don’t know how long we stood there listening to Dr. Morris trying to resuscitate him. The loud pops of the portable defibrillator sent jolts through me every time. I both wanted him to wake up and to stay wherever he was.
Still, as we finally heard the coughing and wheezing of the recently brought back, I sighed in a relief that took me by surprise. It wasn’t only because of Andrea, I realized.
I turned then and saw Dr. Morris getting him into the recovery position before she leaned back on her heels, breathing heavily, eyes closed.
“Michael,” I finally said. “Are you all right?”
He nodded at first, then croaked out a “yes” that made me smile. I looked over at Hansen then. He was standing in silence at the foot of the bed. There was a sympathetic expression as he looked at Michael, which changed as his eyes met mine. He looked sad. It wiped the smile off my face. I knew bringing him along for this had been a bad idea. But this was how it was done with us. Would it have been better for these men to be trapped like that until they died? Which would likely have been long before they should have. I couldn’t even muster the anger I wanted to at the sight of those blue eyes and what was very nearly pity at the sight of me. I turned my attention to Michael again.
“Good,” I told him. “Dr. Morris will look after you in a minute. You’re going to be all right.”
Dr. Morris didn’t come to his side, though. I turned to see if she needed help with something. She did. She lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling with blank eyes, her hair and white coat soaking up water from the floor.
Thomás sat halfway next to her. He didn’t look good–pale, wet, and breathing hard and painfully. A rasping sound escaped him.
