All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible.
—William Faulkner
18
Something was in bed with me.
Something warm.
Something furry and soft.
Something with sharp claws.
I used the blanket to shield myself as I moved at a sloth’s pace to the opposite side of the bed. I stretched out an arm, reaching into the shadows for the lamp on the nightstand. I bumped it. The furry thing made a noise that sent a shudder up my spine. I found the little twisty knob and the light flicked on just as the gray thing sailed at me, claws fully extended.
It was the psycho kitty.
I screeched and swatted the beast away. It flew to the floor. The door to the bedroom swung open. The cat darted past a worried-looking JT.
I pointed. “Cat.”
He looked back down the hall. “Where?”
“It’s probably hiding somewhere.” I jumped up and dashed past him. “We need to get that animal out of here before it tears me up. It hates me.”
Still standing at the door, JT watched me as I peered into the empty bedroom down the hall. “I didn’t see a cat.”
“It ran right past you. How could you not see it?” Where’d that evil cat go? I tiptoed down to the next open door and peered into another empty room. No cat. “Damn it. It must have gone downstairs.” I decided it would be better if I shut the cat out of my bedroom, rather than go on a wild-cat chase. I headed back to the master bedroom, shoved JT inside, and shut the door behind him.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” He glanced at the bed, then at me, then at the bed again. His eyebrows climbed to the top of his forehead.
“No.” I stomped to the bed, fluffed the sheet and blanket back in place, and climbed in. “I just didn’t want that animal to sneak back in here.”
“Who’s to say it hasn’t already?”
Good point. I peered over the edge of the bed.
I heard a scratching sound. I gathered the blanket to my chest and curled my legs, wrapping my arms and the blanket around my knees. I pointed. “I think it’s under there.”
JT didn’t look scared. He sauntered over, bent. Yelled “Holy shit!” and fell on his ass.
I hopped up on my feet and danced around the bed, shouting, “Where is it? Where is it?”
JT stood up, face a brilliant red. Tears streaming from his eyes. I realized, too late, that he was laughing his ass off.
At me.
“You bastard!” I grabbed the first thing I could find and threw it at him.
He ducked and the pillow hit the wall, rebounded, and sent a framed photograph crashing to the floor. Still laughing, JT turned to survey the damage before tsk-tsking me. “Didn’t your mother teach you it’s bad to throw things?”
I leapt to the floor and headed for the broken frame. “It was a pillow.” I carefully picked up the frame and inspected the photograph. It was a picture of a man, smiling, maybe in his midthirties, wearing a military uniform. “Besides, this is just a stock photograph, isn’t it?”
“No, it was left here by the former homeowner.”
“Why wouldn’t they take a picture like this with them?”
“I’m guessing it was accidentally left behind.”
I gently pulled the shattered glass away from the photograph, trying to keep the sharp edges from slicing into the print. “How sad. Maybe we should find out where the homeowner went and give it back? After we get a new frame.”
“Maybe we should.”
I put the picture back on the dresser and dumped the shards of glass into the plastic trash can next to the nightstand. JT helped me pick up the rest of the glass.
“We’ll run a damp cloth over the wood floor tomorrow to get the smaller pieces. You should get some sleep.” He nudged me toward the bed. I climbed in, waiting for him to leave and shut the door before I cut off the light. I fell asleep the instant my head hit the pillow.
 
 
It was back. The cat. How? I felt its claws pricking my skin through the blanket.
“Little mouse.”
That isn’t a cat. Cats don’t talk.
My heart started drumming against my breastbone. An instant coating of sweat slicked my skin. I tried to scream; but when I opened my mouth, no sound came out. I couldn’t inhale. My lungs wouldn’t inflate. I couldn’t move a muscle. It was as if I’d been drugged, given a paralytic.
Could this be the unsub? The timing was interesting. There’s no such thing as a coincidence. The voice. Was it male or female? I still couldn’t tell. Maybe it was female.
“Little mouse. I won’t wait any longer. You lost our game.”
What game? I had no clue what that meant.
JT, I screamed inside my head, help me!
I tried to move. A finger. A toe. I couldn’t. Oh, God, I couldn’t. JT was close by, but he had no clue what was happening.
“Little mouse. I’m losing patience.”
The microphones.
Why weren’t the agents stampeding into the room? Couldn’t they hear that awful voice? It made my skin burn. My hairs stand on end. It was like nails scratching on a chalkboard, only a hundred times worse.
“Little mouse. You promised. You agreed to the rules of our game.”
I didn’t promise anything to anyone, but I couldn’t say that. I couldn’t say anything. I felt like I was suffocating. I wanted air. So badly. Desperately. I fought for a breath. Only one.
Someone help. Please.
I felt it come closer. Felt the chill grow colder, colder until it stung, burned. My neck. It hurt. The pain. Still, I couldn’t move. Not an eyelash. Nothing. More pain. Blindingly sharp. I screamed in my head. Darkness crashed down upon me, and then I was thrashing, kicking, screaming so hard my throat felt like it was tearing up inside. The door smashed open, the overhead light snapped on, and JT raced into the room.
“What?” he shouted, his eyes wild.
“It was back. It was here.” I bound from the bed.
“What? The cat?”
“No. Something else. Bigger. My neck.” I fingered the place where it still burned slightly. “I think it bit me. Or injected me with something. I think I might be the next victim.”
My stomach lurched. I gagged. I heaved. But I didn’t throw up.
JT ran around the bed and turned on the lamp. He sat on the edge and pulled me to him. “Let me see.”
I tipped my head to one side and pointed to the spot, which wasn’t hurting so badly now. “Here, I think.”
JT studied my neck for several moments, swept my hair aside to look at it from every angle. “I don’t see any marks, but we should take you to the hospital and have you checked out, just in case.” He scooped me into his arms. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“I couldn’t. I tried.” I dragged my arm over my face, smearing tears across my cheeks. “I couldn’t move at all. Not a finger. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.”
JT carted me down the stairs as if I weighed nothing. “Maybe you were drugged.”
“That’s what we thought the unsub was doing to her victims.”
“We figured she was giving them an amnesic. Not a paralytic.” His hold on me tightened slightly. He met a crowd of armed agents at the front door.
“Ambulance is on the way,” one of them said as he barked orders into a handheld radio. JT refused to set me down while we waited for the ambulance, saying he was worried I might be dizzy from the drugs. Armed men stood around us in a circle. There were armed men guarding me. It was crazy. I felt like I was a president or something, being protected from an assassin. The instant the ambulance stopped in front of the house, JT and our circle of armed guards took me to the vehicle. He set me on the bed, and one EMT started asking me questions while the other one talked to JT. Minutes later, I had an IV in my arm and was strapped to the gurney.
JT poked his head inside the back door. “I’ll be at the hospital when you get there.”
“That’s okay. You don’t—”
“Yes, I do.” He slammed the door, and off we went to the hospital. No lights. No sirens.
The EMT sitting next to me asked if I was feeling okay, if I was in any pain, or if there was anything he could do for me. I wasn’t in pain anymore. The burning on my neck was gone. And I wasn’t feeling bad at all. In fact, I was feeling fairly perky. It was as if I’d dreamed the whole thing. I could see now why the victims might not have told anyone about their attacks, if this was how they felt.
Despite feeling okay, I knew there could potentially be something very wrong with me. So I lay back and relaxed during the ride. When I finally arrived at the hospital, I was immediately wheeled into a room and greeted by not one nurse but two, plus a doctor. I was given a little privacy while I traded my clothes for one of those lovely hospital gowns. I produced a urine sample upon request, gave up some blood and saliva for analysis, and pointed to the spot on my neck where I’d been poked or bitten or whatever. I must have explained our case a dozen times to a handful of different people. Finally silence. They all left me to await the results of the tests.
JT strolled in then. He smiled, but I could tell he was hiding a very genuine concern under the expression. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Better than fine, actually.”
“Does your neck still hurt?”
I checked, poking at it with my fingers. “Nope.”
“Do you hurt anywhere else?”
“ No.”
“Good.” He plopped his butt on the edge of my bed and patted my knee. “Now it’s my turn to sit by your side, like you did for me.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
Once again, an awkward silence fell between us. Our gazes tangled. My breathing sped up. I had a feeling, if I looked up at the monitor I was hooked to, I’d see my heart rate was double its normal speed.
“We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” JT said.
“JT, why didn’t anyone come in and help me when I was being attacked?”
“I can’t answer that yet. I’m looking into it.”
“Has anyone reviewed the tapes?”
JT shook his head. “I didn’t have time. I’ll look at them after you’re settled in.”
“Settled in? Am I being admitted?”
“I’m guessing you will be.” Looking down at the bed, he set one of his hands on mine. “It’s going to take a while to get back all the test results. If there’s any chance you’ve been infected with a contagion, they won’t want you running around, exposing other people.”
“You’re not scared.” With a tip of my head, I motioned to his hand, still sitting on top of mine.
“No, I’m not.” He leaned closer and smoothed my hair. I liked the way he did that. Then he reached for the little remote clipped to the bedsheet and turned on the TV. My mother, looking like she’d just rolled out of bed—which I’m sure she had—came rushing into the room. Katie was on her heels. They both were sporting white faces and bugged eyes. Did they think I was near death?
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” I said before one of them collapsed.
Mom raced to my side, grabbed my hand, and cradled it to her chest. “Sloan, when I got the call, I was absolutely terrified. I was much too upset to drive. Thank goodness, Katie was awake. She drove me.”
I smiled at Katie. “Thanks.” Katie probably hadn’t been awake before my mother had called.
“No problem.” Katie was standing closer to the exit, probably hanging back because the small space was already very crowded. She looked at the monitors. “What’s going on?”
“I was attacked. I’m feeling better now. I think they just want to keep an eye on me for a little while, make sure I’m all right.”
Katie nodded. “Okay.” To my mother, she said, “I need to get going. I have to get up early tomorrow.”
Mom looked at me, at JT, and then at Katie. “Umm.” She looked at JT again.
JT nodded and smiled. “Of course, I’ll give you a ride home, Beverly.”
Mom grinned. Katie waved and left.
Mom turned worry-filled eyes toward me again. “Now, what exactly happened? Tell me everything.”
“I don’t know if I can tell you everything. It might be related to our case and we’re not allowed to discuss our cases with anyone, outside of police and medical personnel.”
JT said, “She was sleeping in a monitored room. We’ll find out what happened very soon.”
Mom clearly wasn’t happy with JT’s nonexplanation. “I’m your mother, for God’s sake. You can’t tell your mother what happened?” This was not good. Mom was getting herself wound up. That always ended in disaster.
“Mom. Please. If I could tell you, I would. Don’t get upset.”
Mom flung her hands in the air. “My only daughter is in the hospital after being attacked, and I’m told I shouldn’t get upset? What kind of shit is that?” She stomped toward the exit. “I’ll be back in a little while. I need some fresh ... air.”
I knew what kind of “air” she was going for. I didn’t try to stop her, hoping it would help her calm down. It could go either way. She might return, telling me she was seeing pink talking elephants everywhere and end up being escorted upstairs to the psych ward. Or she might return in a mellow whatever mood. Naturally, I was hoping for the latter. It was the most frequent result. But the former had happened, more often than I wished. For whatever reason, pink animals of all varieties were a common hallucination for poor Mom when she was stressed.
After Mom headed out to self-medicate, JT gave my leg another pat. “It’s tough handling these situations with family. They don’t understand in the beginning.”
“Yours didn’t come to the hospital,” I said, just realizing it for the first time.
“No. They learned already they aren’t going to get any information. Anyway, my life wasn’t on the line. They would’ve been there if there had been any chance I was checking out of the hospital in a hearse.”
“I’m not sure my mother will ever get to that point.”
“She will. In time.”
The doctor strolled in. Asked me how I was feeling and informed me I was being moved upstairs to a room shortly. Mom wandered in just as I was thanking the doctor. She plopped into a chair, turning red eyes toward me.
“Sloan, I’m feeling better now,” she said.
“Good,” I said.
JT slid off my bed. “I guess I should be getting back to the house. I’d like to get a look at those tapes. Mrs. Skye, are you ready to go?”
She smiled. “Sure.” She gave me a hug and a bunch of kisses. “I’ll call you later, baby.”
“Okay, Mom.” To JT, I said, “Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
I settled back to watch a Seinfeld rerun. But just as I got comfortable, a woman’s shout, followed by a huge crash, had me bolting upright in bed.
Mom?
I looked at what seemed to be a flurry of frenzied activity at the nurses’ station. I looked at the wires and tubes sticking out of my arm and chest. I looked out at the nurses’ station again. At the monitors behind me.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I grumbled.
“Damn it, listen to me!” Mom yelled. “Those fucking monkeys are going to hurt my daughter!”
Another crash.
I slid off the bed and walked as close to the door as I could. The tubes stretched. The wires attached to the little pads glued to my chest tugged. I unplugged them, and the monitor started shrieking. I grabbed the bag of water off the IV pole and headed into the melee. Mom was swinging arms and legs, fighting off invisible monkeys and visible security guards. JT was standing nearby, trying to get her attention.
I stomped toward them, but someone grabbed my arm. I turned. My nurse. “You need to be in bed. We can’t have you out here.”
“That’s my mother.”
The nurse didn’t care. “Yes, but we can’t have you out here—”
“I can calm her down.”
“No. Absolutely not. You must get back in bed now.”
Mom screamed as a huge man tackled her to the ground. “You fucking bastard! This is a free country. I have rights.” She kneed the security guard in the groin and rolled out from under him as he fought for breath.
A pair of guards dove at her. It was two on one now. Mom didn’t stand a chance.
I was desperate. This wasn’t the way to handle her. She was terrified. And they were making it worse. “Please.” I broke away from the nurse and headed to Mom’s aid; the clear bag was cradled in my arms and a plastic tube dragged on the floor. “Mom, I’m right here. It’s okay.”
Mom clawed past one of the men, crippling him with another well-placed shot to the groin. “Sloan? Where’d the monkeys go?”
“JT caught them.” I pointed at JT.
JT gave me a what-the-hell look, then nodded. “Sure. They’re all locked up now.”
Mom grabbed me, hugged me. “Thank God.” Next she hugged a bewildered JT. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for taking care of my baby girl. She needs a man like you. Brave and strong. You two will have a wonderful—life together. You can be married where I married her father.”
Fabulous. Mom was already planning our wedding.
“Yes. I’m sure we will have a wonderful l-life,” JT stammered, looking a little stiff.
I swallowed a sigh.
A pair of large male nurses strolled up, talking to Mom in soothing voices, offering her a chance to rest for a while. Mom let them guide her to a wheelchair. As they wheeled her toward the service elevator, the sound of her raves about her future son-in-law echoed down the halls, barely reaching the now eerily silent nurses’ station.
The nurse, who looked absolutely livid, grabbed the sloshy bag of water out of my arms and gathered the plastic tubing, lifting it off the floor. “One of your rapid diagnostic tests came back positive. You must be quarantined. Now we may have to quarantine everyone here as well, at least until the rest of your test results are back.”
I looked at JT.
He visibly sighed.
I looked at the nurses, at the doctors.
They weren’t happy. In fact, they looked like they wouldn’t mind doing a few uncomfortable medical procedures on me, just to make me suffer a little.
“I’m sorry.” Feeling like shit, I shuffled back to my room.