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Hardesty and I let ourselves in; looking around to make sure it was just as deserted as it appeared. It was cold and damp inside. There was no shortage of rodent droppings, either.
We located the factory floor, and to the west end of it, there were metal steps leading up to the mezzanine he described.
We used flashlights to guide us. Some portions of the building seemed to have electricity, others did not. I climbed the metal steps and went through a swinging door down a long, tiled hallway.
It looked as if at one time when the factory had been operational, the mezzanine might have been where the lunch room, supply room and rest rooms were located. At the end of the hallway, there was a door that was shut. It had placard over the door that read “Infirmary.”
I inserted the key into the lock, it turned. I opened the door to the room, not the least bit prepared for what I was about to find when I switched on the light.
Slate’s voice came over the walkie-talkie just as I flipped the light switch.
“We’ve got Sue Ellen Stanfield, a.k.a. Susanne Reynard in custody, boys. Taz, what’s goin’ on at your end?”
I felt something wet running down my cheeks. It was foreign to me, and for the first time ever, I froze. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. My heart had died inside of me.
“Taz? Did you copy that?”
I heard a voice next to me on the walkie-talkie.
“This is Agent Hardesty. We’re going to need an ambulance here, stat. Do you copy?”
“Copy that, Agent Hardesty.”
CHAPTER 45
There had been so much pain, so much agony, and so much fear. My throat had burned with its own fire, my muscles ached, and my bones ached, my skin felt as if it had been ripped from me in several places.
I remembered why I was in pain, and who had inflicted the pain. I remembered thinking that death might just be a blessing, if it truly meant the pain would be gone.
I had lain in this bed hour after hour, and thought about what death might mean for me.
It would mean never seeing my mother again. I couldn’t imagine that, but mostly I worried as to how my death would make her feel. She had been angry and disappointed in me because of my relationship with Taz. If I died, the guilt of that would haunt her. I didn’t wish her that.
I thought about not seeing my baby brother again, of missing all of his “firsts” as he grew into a toddler, then adolescent. He wouldn’t remember me as he grew older. He wouldn’t remember that I had changed his diaper, fed him, played with him, rocked him and loved him. I didn’t want him to forget me.
I thought about Slate, and how even though he was not a father-figure exactly, he was still someone that I cared about and respected. I thought about all that he had gone through with my mother, and what he would be faced with if I died, dealing with her sadness and anguish. I didn’t wish that for him.
I thought about Taz and how important he had become to me. I understood now why he had gotten so upset when I continued to communicate in any fashion with Kyzer. He had known somehow the monster Kyzer was.
I knew that he would blame himself, then me, then himself again. I knew if I died, he would be twisted up inside, that he would wonder about what might have been, that he would have a broken heart.
As much as I thought about the important people in my life, I knew that eventually, all of them would be okay with my passing, except Taz.
Maybe it’s because when one hovers between life and death, things suddenly become crystal clear in their minds, and the realization hits about what is truly important to the ones you love, the ones you leave behind.
I wasn’t ready to part with Taz in this life. There were still things we hadn’t done, arguments we hadn’t had, laughter we hadn’t shared, tears we hadn’t cried, and the realization that we were meant to be.
I realized if I died, then I would have left this earth not sharing with him one, vital piece of information, and that was that I loved him, and that my heart belonged to him.
Leaving this planet without letting Taz know that I loved him? I didn’t wish that for me.
I slept and felt pain. I felt pain and slept. I had dreams that made no sense, heard voices that I didn’t recognize, and prayed to a God that didn’t seem to be listening to me at the moment.
And then one day the pain started to ebb, the sleep started to feel restful, and the voices were familiar to me. My skin didn’t burn, my bones and muscles no longer ached, the chills no longer racked my body and I did this very wonderful thing: I sneezed.
I felt the sneeze and I heard the sneeze. I also heard a familiar voice say, “Bless you.”
“Thank you,” I replied, my voice sounding almost foreign to me.
