Chapter One

Arriving at the scene, the smells hit like a physical blow. The city has a certain odor on the best of days and when she burns, the smell can take on a life of its own. Even a block away from the incident, the fumes of gasoline and the unmistakable scent of burned flesh overpower the usual aromas of the city. It is a stench that stays in the nose, lingering in the hair after a shower and into the next day. Under the smells of meat and gas is the rich bouquet of smoke, burnt plastic and engine exhaust from the big fire trucks.

Sound is the next thing to assault the senses. Deep whines from the engines, the yelling of people in pain and panic, the sounds of strain from metal and stone and wood as they are heated beyond their limits. Fire has a sound all to itself. A blaze out of control sounds nothing like the comforting crackle and pops of a fireplace. It has a deep and angry roar. Over everything else, the sirens compete to be heard. But it is the screams of the injured that she hears in her dreams. Especially the ones she couldn’t save.

There is no real time for third impressions, Tricia Davis muses to herself as she maneuvers her vehicle between the other emergency vehicles already at the scene. At 35 years old, she still feels a quickening of her pulse as she nears ground zero. Her last girlfriend called her an adrenalin junkie and she guesses that she is addicted to the frenetic pace of emergency response.

She is jolted out of her reverie by a light punch on her biceps from her partner. Lena Hodges quirks a single eyebrow up and asks, “Where’s your head?”

When Tricia shrugs in response, Lena hits her in the upper arm again. For someone with such small hands, she packs a solid punch.

“What was that for?”

“We’re here, its time to wake up.” Lena smiles at her. “Ready to hit the ground running?”

Tricia declines to answer as they grab their kit bags from the back and hurry across the wet playground. They rush over to the knot of people standing at the corner of the two brick buildings.

“What have you got, chief?” Tricia asks as she pulls on her blue latex free gloves.

“Firebug. We’ve got reports that the suspect is a student who set fire to the annex trailers. We’ve got two trucks bringing that blaze under control.”

He looks at the tactical team preparing to enter the building. “The suspect may still be in the building. I want you two follow the police sweep in. We have reports of at least six students and teachers down but we haven’t been in yet.”

Lena is already walking over to the group of police officers getting their instructions. She nods when she is acknowledged and starts slightly when Tricia touches her arm.

“No heroics, hotshot.”

She grins in response to the whispered command and puts a stick of gum in her mouth. “No worries, mate.”

Tricia shakes her head at the offered pack and the burly officer puts it back in his thigh pocket.

“Let’s do this then.” The police lieutenant says quietly. In close order his people move in with the paramedics close behind.

The first officer takes a hold of the door and waits for the nod. He pulls it open and two other officers step through the doorway and move to cover either side. The second pair of officers follows them into the school.

At the soft “Clear,” the rest of the group enters the high school.

“Steady on, people.” The lieutenant calls out as the phalanx moves into the main hallway and sees a large blood smear on the linoleum floor.

There are two bodies on the floor in front of a display case of trophies and medals. Lena checks one, while Tricia assesses the other. They meet each other’s eyes before shaking their head at the officer’s question.

“Any idea how long?”

“The blood is coagulating, so it’s been thirty minutes easy.” Tricia answers.

“Okay. Try not to touch anything you don’t have to.” He looks around at his detail before speaking into his microphone. “We are in the main building. There are two down on scene but there is no sign of the perpetrator.” The lieutenant’s voice is calm and helps to steady everyone’s nerves. “We are continuing with the sweep.”

Tricia’s stomach aches from the unrelieved tension. When she glances over at Lena, the other woman turns and gives her a reassuring thumb up sign.

The group sections the building, slowly clearing each room before moving forward. The two paramedics are the last ones to enter the secured rooms. One of the uniformed officers stays protectively with them as they follow the main group into the unknown.

It takes them almost ten minutes to cover the first floor of the building. Every room they’ve moved through has been chaotic, as the occupants fled without their books or personal items.

“Thank you,” Tricia says to herself, as the classrooms are so far free of any blood or bodies.

The group comes to a stairwell and begins the journey upwards. The officers go up in pairs, overlapping the previous pair and keeping their weapons drawn but pointing to the floor.

Tricia stands for a moment on the landing in the sunshine streaming in the window. The dust specks floating in the air, the silence and heavily armed officers is surreal and she is tempted to pinch herself.

“You okay?”

“So far, so good,” she answers.

The lieutenant frowns down at them. “Maintain silence.”

Guiltily, they nod and follow the blue uniforms up the rest of the flight of stairs. The carpet is damp from the sprinklers. They can smell smoke but still don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, there is a scream from the library and everyone moves forward, weapons and first aid kits at the ready. The team bursts through the door and take up positions to see the entire room. Everything stops as a young man steps from behind the counter.

The teenager glares at them and waves a long charcoal lighter and container of liquid. The odor of gasoline fills the space. “Come any closer and I’ll do them too.”

The two paramedics are standing behind the four police officers in the doorway. They crane their necks to see two girls in cheerleading uniforms, huddling together on the floor in front of him.

“I swear I’ll fry them,” he threatens, flicking the flame on and off.

“Son, you don’t want to do that.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

“We can talk about that after you put the lighter down.”

“The hell I will.”

“It’s over.”

“It isn’t over until I say its over.” The teenager glares at them through bloodshot eyes.

“There is no way out of here except through us. Put down the lighter.”

“You wouldn’t dare do anything to me.”

“There has been enough bloodshed today.”

“You’re wrong. Dead wrong.” He giggles and nudges one of the cheerleaders with his sneaker-clad foot. “Tell them.”

The girl stares uncomprehendingly at him. She is pale and her eyes are red and swollen from crying.

“Tell them what I did.”

“Burned them all,” she whispers before grasping her knees and rocking back and forth.

“Okay, you’ve done some bad stuff. Let it end here.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

“Why not?”

“It has to end with me.”

“Son, no one else had to get hurt. Let the girls come over here.”

“No way. I’m not giving you anything.”

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt. Just put everything down on the counter and step away from the girls.”

“Hurt? I’m trying to help here.”

“Why don’t you try and explain that to me?”

“The only way to get the spirits off is to burn them off.” The boy waves the lighter at the ceiling. “They are everywhere, trying to get inside. If you burn them, they die.”

“Is that why you burned the trailer down? Because of the spirits?”

“Of course.”

“And that is why you’re up here now?”

“Yes.” He looks around the library. “They thought they were safe up here, where we couldn’t talk.”

“The spirits or your fellow students?”

“Aren’t you listening? The spirits.”

“Are they here now?”

“Can’t you see them?”

“I’ve heard about spirits before but maybe you can talk to me about them.”

“They want to make us to bad things.”

“Like burning things?”

“No! I had to burn them to get the spirits out.”

“I’ve heard that water works as well as fire.”

“You’re wrong. Only fire can clean them out when they have taken a host.” He looks down at the two girls. “They don’t even know that they are being used.” He splashes some of the liquid from the container onto them, while they moan in terror.

“Hey,” the lieutenant calls, trying to regain his attention. “What is your name?”

The teenager looks up at him. “Bobby.”

“Well, Bobby. Why don’t you come over here and explain some more about the spirits to me. I’ll have my men watch those girls so they can’t do anything.”

“Your guns won’t stop them.”

“I bet they will stay really, really quiet while my men are watching them. Won’t you?” He is looking at the frightened girls. They nod emphatically.

“See? Everyone will stay real still and you and I can talk.”

“I’m tired of talking. No-one really listens, even the ones who are paid to.”

“I’m listening, Bobby.”

Shaking his head, Bobby spits. “No, you’re not. You’re laughing at me. Just like they did.” He turns back to the girls and pours more liquid on them.

“It’s the spirits that make them laugh, Bobby. You can’t blame them.”

The boy nods. “Exactly. That’s why I have to burn them out.” Saying that he ignites the lighter and drops on it the closest girl.

Everything seems to happen at once. The boy jerks back as several bullets hit him. One of the girls jumps up from the ground, she is screaming. Her sweater is on fire. The other girl, who was directly under the lighter, is rolling on the floor.

Lena rips off her uniform jersey and shoves through the officers. Grabbing the girl on the floor, she tries to smother the flames with her shirt. She ends up ripping off the burning cloth of the teenager’s sweater with her bare hands as the flames resist dying out.

Not too many steps behind her, Tricia tackles the other girl and rolls her on the floor to put out the flames. The girl grabs onto Tricia’s shirt with both hands. “In the b-b-back. The o-o-others.” She is shivering and crying.

Tricia glances up at the cop who is standing beside her. He nods and leaves her to tell the lieutenant what she said. “Hush, now. Let me treat you.” Tricia does a quick examination. The girl is not too badly burned, except on one arm. Telling her to sit still, Tricia goes to check to see if any of the other injured need her attention.

On her way to the back, she glances over at her partner. They have only been paired together for eight months but Tricia is confident that the mercurial paramedic is one of the best she has ever seen. Lena is a small, dark woman who only barely passed the height and weight requirements. Tricia guesses that she in her late twenties. Her abilities belie her age.

Working with Lena is a lot like skiing an avalanche; her knowledge of medicine tends to overwhelm her social skills. She can be abrupt and rude with her fellow technicians and Emergency Room physicians but she is calm and soothing to the patients. It has taken a long time for her to relax around the older, larger woman but, lately, she has begun to joke with her and respond to her teasing.

Lena is absorbed in her task. Working silently, she rolls the unconscious girl onto her back. The sight is ghastly. Most of her blond hair is burned off, as are her eyebrows and eyelashes. The remaining part of one ear seems to have melted. The inside of her mouth and throat are burned where she inhaled the flames when she was screaming. Lena grabs her supplies and intubates the former cheerleader.

The officers call for further assistance and another EMT team comes up with them to take over their work on the less injured of the two girls. She is quickly escorted downstairs. Tricia steps out of the other room and has to take a couple of deep breaths before she can move. She shakes her head when Jeff raises his eyebrow at her. There is nothing to be done for the three people in that room.

Kneeling down beside her partner, Tricia pulls her kit closer. Lena doesn’t look up from putting burn packs on the girl’s shoulder and chest. Opening another pack, she presses it into place on the girl’s upper thigh. Glancing up when Lena stops working, Tricia is surprised to see her usually calm partner sitting back on her heels with her eyes tightly closed.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Tricia?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we get Marco and Jeff to take her in?”

“What?”

“Just turn her over to the other bus.” Lena’s voice is soft.

“No. She’s our package. We deliver her.” Tricia can hardly believe her ears. “Get ready to scoop and run.”

Lena continues to sit still.

“Now, Lena.”

She hunches her head between her shoulders.

“Don’t make me have to tell you twice.”

Lena’s eyes snap open and she glares at Tricia. “I heard you.”

“Well, then move.”

The two women work together to roll the injured girl onto a backboard. They lift and carry her out of the room that is still swarming with police, firefighters and paramedics. Both women are panting by the time they get their load to the ground floor and onto a waiting gurney.

Lena doesn’t look at her partner while they load her into the ambulance. She gets into the back without a word and monitors the girl during the ride to the County hospital. Several times, Tricia glances into the rearview mirror to see her brushing a little of the remaining hair off their patient’s face.

Chapter Two

Pulling into the ambulance bay at the hospital, Lena jumps from her seat and pops open the door. She begins rattling off the patient’s vitals and listing the steps taken in the field before the gurney is on the ground and rolling. “Fifteen year old, Caucasian female. Patient has burns on at least 70% of her body surface area including head, left arm, chest and back.”

The professional team gathers the girl up and transfers her to another bed as they move with her into the emergency room. “What was the medium?” asks one of the nurses.

“She was splashed with gasoline and she inhaled some of the liquid. We intubated her at the scene. Pulse is 50 and blood pressure dropping to 90 over 60.” Lena hands the clipboard across the girl’s body to the charge nurse. The attending physician reaches out and grabs her wrist.

“Hey! Let go, Doc.”

“Your hand is burned.” She lets the trauma team go by them. “Let me see your other hand.”

Lena raises her other hand. It is pink and blistered as well. The long sleeve undershirt she is wearing is scorched and the cuffs are melted.

“We need to treat this.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“These look like second degree burns. You need to have these examined.” The attending doesn’t let go of her arm. “What room is empty?” she asks looking at one of the nurses.

“Three, Dr. Rabito.”

“Okay,” she looks over at Tricia who has been following the stretcher. “You know the way?”

“Yeah,” she begins.

“Hang on just a minute. We are supposed to turn around and go back.”

“You aren’t leaving here until we tend to your hands.”

“I’ll be back with another one for you and you can see me then.”

“Not acceptable. These burns are too bad for you to be continuing to work.” She looks at Tricia. “I am holding you responsible for seeing that she stays here until she is treated.”

“What did I ever do to you?”

“I seem to recall that ride along last winter,” the doctor answers with a steely glare. “Do I really need to say more?”

Tricia throws up her hands. “All right. All right. Although I think I have paid enough for a really simple misunderstanding. Come on, Lena. Let’s let them take a look.”

“I don’t like this place.”

“Who does?”

“No, I mean I really don’t like it here.”

“You’ve only been this run for half a year. You can’t have that many bad memories of it.”

“Yes, I can. From before.” Lena shakes her head.

“What before?”

“There was a time pre-Tricia,” she replies dryly.

“Oh, it must have been a dark and mysterious age, hardly worthy of note.” She waves a hand loftily.

“Look, let’s just blow out of here. It’s so crazy nobody will notice we’ve gone.

“I don’t want to have to explain running away to Melissa. We’ll be out of here in a jiffy.”

“Not fast enough for my taste.”

Tricia leads her over to a small exam room. “Hop on the bed.”

“No, I’ll sit on the chair.” Lena does so. One leg is shaking uncontrollably. “So, who’s Doctor Tight-ass?”

“Dr. Felicia Rabito. She’s in charge of the ER.”

“She’s not in charge of me.”

“Deal with it, Hodges. You know that Melissa would strap your ass to a gurney and drive you back here herself if she knew you were medically unfit at a scene.”

“I’m not unfit.”

“Clench your fists.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Lena makes a fist of her left hand and several of the blisters pop. She sucks in a breath and bends over, bracing her forearms on her knees.

“Are you going to pass out?”

“Shut up.”

Tricia watches her for a few moments, noticing the sweat that is beading up on her face. “Let me go see if they can give you anything for the pain.” She walks out and snags one of the nurses. “Hey, Mackie. Can you see if you can spring somebody to look at my partner? Her hands are paining her.”

“Sure, Tricia. Where is she?”

“We’re in Exam Three.”

“I’ll send one of the resident’s over.”

“Thanks. Make sure it’s a good one.”

“Only the best for you, darling.”

“Sweet talker,” Tricia replies with a laugh. Walking back to the exam room, Tricia calls in to the station to explain their delay. The operator signs them out. She stops at the vending machine and grabs a couple of cokes with the last of the change from her pocket.

“Hey, you want something to drink?”

“No, thanks.” Lena glances over. “My hands kind of hurt.”

“I was going to offer you a straw, smart ass.” Tricia takes a long sip from her can. She leans against the unoccupied bed. “Yeah, so what happened out there today?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never seen you try and turn a vic. over to anyone else before.”

Lena shakes her head. “I didn’t want to have her in our bus.”

“Why?”

“I just didn’t.”

“At the risk of boring us both with repetition, I’ll ask again. Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not? I’m your partner.”

“Look, just trust me when I tell you that it isn’t going to happen again.”

Lena looks so upset that Tricia raises her hands in surrender. “If you say so.” She sits back on the bed, careful to keep her boots off the thin mattress. With the adrenalin no longer coursing through her veins, she is exhausted. She is just starting to drift off, when she hears a crash.

She swings her legs off the bed and looks at the scene. She sees Lena standing up, about two feet away from her now overturned chair. She is swaying. A doctor so young he must be only on his first year of residency is holding his arm up like it has been electrified

“What the hell is going on?” she demands.

“I just touched her shoulder and she nearly leaped out of her skin.”

“Lena?”

The other woman slowly turns and focuses on her.

“You okay?”

“Sorry. He startled me.” Lena struggles to get her racing heart back under control.

“I can see that.”

“Why don’t you sit down?”

Lena looks around in confusion and tries to find her chair. The doctor points to the bed. “The bed is over there.”

“I’d rather sit in the chair.”

Tricia gets up and tries to right the chair but the back seems to have broken when it was shoved into the wall. “Sorry, Lena. The chair’s a goner.” She stands in front of her partner. “You’re going to have to sit on the bed.”

“I don’t,” Lena starts to sway.

“Come on.” She deliberately gentles her voice. “Let’s get this over with.”

Lena nods once in acceptance. She moves over to the bed and sits on it, crossing her legs and resting her arms on her knees. The hair at her temples is damp with sweat and she wipes her face on the sleeve at her shoulder.

“The nurse told me that you were in pain. Are you allergic to anything?”

“Sulfa drugs. I don’t know of any allergies to painkillers.”

“Well, then. I will be back with a shot of Demerol and to look at your hands.”

Lena nods again but doesn’t say anything. Watching her out of the corner of her eyes, Tricia straightens up the instrument tray and small cabinet that were dislodged by the force of the chair.

“Want to explain that one?”

“I didn’t expect anyone to just come in and touch me.”

“No, I guess you really weren’t.” She keeps her eyes on the tray. “You don’t like being touched much, do you?”

“I don’t mind touches I’ve invited or initiated.”

“When was the last time you did either?”

“I wasn’t expecting it,” she repeats doggedly.

“Fine. Remind me to warn you before I kick your ass for scaring me.” Tricia laughs but Lena doesn’t even smile. She just sits on the bed, the muscles in her jaw jumping.

The doctor walks back in with a nurse. Tricia nods at her and smiles slightly when the doctor stops just out of Lena’s reach.

“Uh, miss. I have the shot here.”

Lena opens up her eyes. “My name is Lena. Lena Hodges.”

“Good. I’m just going to wipe down your bicep and give you the injection now.”

Rolling her eyes, Lena scowls at the grin on her partners face. “Go ahead. I’m ready this time.”

After the nurse cuts off one of her sleeves, the doctor gives her the injection. He then instructs the nurse on the equipment to set out on the tray. He glances at his watch and sits down on a small stool. “The painkiller should be working soon and I’m going to start.” He rolls forward and takes her right hand in his for an examination.

“Can I take these off?” He tugs at one of the leather bands encircling her wrists.

“Do you have to?”

“Yeah, the area around them is blistered. I need to see how much of the arm area is affected.”

At her nod, the nurse unsnaps the button. She can’t control an intake of breath as the removal of the wristband reveals a terrible rope of scar tissue encircling Lena’s wrist. Lena is very carefully not watching anyone. The nurse takes off the other band and the damage is just as extensive on that arm.

“Damn, girl.” Tricia jokes. “You lose a fight with a weed eater?” She thinks back and realizes that she has never seen Lena without the bands on her arms. She had thought that they were a fashion statement that the slight woman was either trying to look more butch or maybe she was trying to compensate for weak wrists. Lightly, she runs her fingers over the arm that the doctor isn’t working on yet. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” The other woman sits up slightly and smiles a little to take the sting out of her words. “I’m not up to rehashing the past right now.”

“We’ve got plenty of time.”

“You may think that talking will solve all the problems in the world. I don’t.”

“I don’t believe I said I could solve your problems. Sometimes sharing with someone else helps to lessen the burden of them.”

“They ain’t heavy, they’re my troubles,” Lena sings softly.

“I’m serious. I’m here if you want to talk.”

“Thanks but I’m doing all right without the sharing.” Lena watches the doctor for a few moments before she shakes her head, sharply. She turns her eyes to Tricia and again shakes her head before squeezing her eyes shut. When she opens her eyes again, she looks at her hands and jerks backward.

“Hold still, honey,” the nurse advises.

“What did you give me?” Each word is forced out of Lena’s mouth.

“A painkiller.”

“What was it?”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t seeing flames crawling up the walls before you gave it to me.”

The resident glances at the vial on the tray and visibly whitens. He picks it up and says, “Excuse me,” as he runs out of the room.

Tricia takes a step after him but stops to look at Lena. Her partner is pale and the whites of her eyes are visible as she looks around the room.

“Tricia?” Lena’s voice is strained.

“Yeah? I’m here.”

“You’d tell me if I was really on fire, right?”

“Of course.” Tricia glares at the nurse. “There is no fire.”

Lena nods but doesn’t look at her.

“Can you see me?”

“I don’t want to. All of you, your flesh is peeling away.” Lena tries to move her hands but the nurse holds them still. “Trish, I’m losing it here.”

“Hang on. They’ll be right back to explain what is going on.”

Tricia paces the small room. She looks back at Lena in time to see her jerk her eyes open. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s worse with my eyes closed.”

“What do you see?”

“The colors are brighter and I’m hearing all the screams.” She shudders. “I don’t feel so good,” she adds, swallowing the sudden flood of moisture in her mouth.

“I wouldn’t guess that you would.” Tricia turns in fury when the doctor comes back into the room. “Care to explain this?”

“I am so sorry. She was given ketamine in error.”

“You gave her a goddamn animal tranquilizer?”

“I have no idea how it got in the tray with the Demerol.”

“You didn’t bother to even look at the bottle before you injected her?” Tricia’s voice rises. “Where the fuck did you learn to practice medicine?”

“What is going here?” Tricia turns to look at the attending physician from earlier, standing at the doorway. “This better be good. You pulled me out of a trauma.”

“Your Einstein there injected my partner with Special K and now she is altered.”

“Dr. Poole?”

“I’m very sorry, Dr. Rabito.”

The harried doctor scowled. “How could this happen?”

“I have no idea how the vial got in the tray.”

“But you didn’t check first?” She shook her head. “There will need to be an investigation.”

“Hello? What are you going to do about this?” Tricia was close to pulling her hair out.

“Well, ketamine has a fairly short life-span. The visual hallucinations should only last about 20 minutes.”

“Twenty minutes? She thinks we are all on fire. After twenty minutes she is going to be bug fuck crazy.”

The group looks at Lena who is rocking slightly and breathing hard. The nurse steps forward and puts a blood pressure cuff on her arm. Lena looks down at her arm as the cuff tightens and then quickly away. She swallows convulsively and tries not to vomit.

“I can give her something else but we run the danger of her being unconscious with nightmares from which she won’t be able to wake up. I think that would be worse than gutting them out.”

“Don’t want to be out.” Lena works to form each word. “Want to go home.”

The nurse speaks up. “Pulse 156, blood pressure 190 over 110.”

“You aren’t going anywhere until we get this under control.”

“Get what under control?” Their supervisor, Melissa Brooks, asks as she enters the room. Lena takes one look at her and flings herself off the bed and presses up against the far wall. Melissa stares at the young paramedic in shock.

Tricia steps in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

Lena stares through her at Melissa. “Gail?”

“No, that’s Melissa. Who are you seeing?”

“They said you were dead.” Lena sounds distressed. “I saw you die.” She shakes her head and clutches her temples with the heels of her hands.

Melissa sucks in a quick breath and steps out of the anguished woman’s range of vision. “Lena, can you hear my voice? Don’t try to look at me. Just listen to my voice.” She waits for a nod. “Do you know who I am?”

A long moment passes before she forces out, “Melissa.”

“Good.” Melissa puts her hands on her hips. “Somebody please tell me what is going on?” When no one responds, she steps closer to the doctor. “You want to share with me why my EMT thinks I’m her dead girlfriend?”

Chapter Three
The nurse tries to pull Lena’s hands down so that she can finish cleaning the burns with surgical soap. Lena allows her arms to be drawn away from her face and her eyes travel around the room. She sees Melissa in conversation with the two doctors and whimpers.
Tricia looks back and forth between the two women. She leans close to her friend. “Lena. Hold on. Okay?”
The woman slowly sinks to the floor, her legs too weak to hold her up. “I’m sorry. I tried. I really did.” Lena mumbles as she stares at Melissa. “Please. I’m so sorry.” There are tears streaming down her face.
Tricia turns. “Melissa, she’s really freaking out here.”
“Let’s take this conversation into the hallway.”
“Stay with her, please.” Tricia says to the nurse before she follows the others out into the hall. The small group huddles outside of the door. “What is going on now?”
“We are reviewing options.” Doctor Rabito slides her pen into her jacket pocket. “I think it is best that she be kept in there, as quiet as possible, until the hallucinations pass. If things get too difficult, we can restrain her.”
“No, that would be a very bad idea.” Melissa shakes her head. “She would really react badly to that.”
“What is going on? Who is Gail?”
Melissa looks at Tricia. “Her girlfriend.”
“Spill, Captain.”
“She was killed.”
“No, way. She never said anything.”
“Yeah.” She looks at the two doctors. “Lena was chained to a wall and had to watch her lover burn to death.” Dr. Poole’s face looses even more color. Turning her attention to Tricia, Melissa says, “You two weren’t supposed to be first responders at fires. How did you two get the call?”
“We had finished lunch and the guys had just gotten in to the diner. We took their run. It wasn’t until we got there that we saw what a madhouse it was.” Tricia runs her fingers through her hair. “Hold on. Since when don’t we get called for fires?”
“Since she started as your partner. You both only get called out to deal with fires that don’t involve gasoline.”

“This is too much. When were you going to tell me?”

Melissa looks at her. “Maybe after you figured it out. Now, how about we focus on the issue at hand.”

“Sorry. But I am going to want to revisit this.”

“Take it up with Lena.”

“About Ms. Hodges,” Doctor Rabito speaks over their voices. She closes the medical file with a snap and waits until they both turn their attention to her. “We need to keep her quiet. That means that you will need to stay out of the examination room.” She points at Melissa. “I don’t know what the association is but it is obviously contributing to the delusion.”

“Fine. I can agree to that.”

The doctor turns to the other physician. “Finish dressing the burns. Give her something to relieve the inflammation. Prepare some other kind of pain reliever that she can take orally.”
Meeting Tricia’s eyes she finishes, “I’ve looked at her chart. Other than the burns, I don’t think there is a reason to keep her here. I will release her into your custody once the hallucinations stop and her pulse and blood pressure return to normal levels. She seems to be most comfortable with you.”

“Fine. I’ve got no problem to taking care of her.”

“You will need to stay with her for at least 24 hours.”

“I can do that. Once we get the bus back we can check out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t do much else here. I will clean it up and take it back to the station.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Don’t mention it.” Melissa smiles. “I really mean that. Don’t mention to anyone that I cleaned up after you.”

“It will go with me to my grave.” Tricia looks toward the exam room. “Anything else?”

“Just keep her calm and this will pass with no further complications.”

“How about you find us another doctor?”

“We are swamped right now. Dr. Poole can handle your partner. If you don’t use him, she will have to wait until we can free someone else up.” She folds her arms over her chest. “I can’t tell you how long that could be.”

The two women stare at one another before Tricia raises her hands. “Whatever. Let me check on Lena.”

“Excellent choice.” Dr. Rabito glances down the hallway. “Now, if I can just go back to the girl you brought in?”

“Thank you, doctor.” Melissa grabs a hold of Tricia’s sleeve. “I’ll reload the bus and I can give you a ride back if she recovers in the next 30 minutes or so. If I don’t see you two, I want you to give me a call once you get her settled tonight.”

“All right.” She opens the door to see Lena still sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her head is leaning back against the wall and her eyes are closed.

The nurse looks up. “She is quieting down. I think the worst is over.”

“Great.” Tricia maneuvers her body between the bed and Lena. She brushes some of the hair behind her ear and is rewarded with a slight smile. “You back?”

“I can still see flames in my peripheral vision. When I look straight on, the vision disappears.”

“Glad that’s over.”

“I feel like a bowl of Jell-O, though.”

“I’m a little wiped out myself and I didn’t just have flambé daydreams.”

“I can’t believe anyone would do that for fun.”

“People are strange, when you’re a stranger,” Tricia sings.

“Don’t quit your day job.”

“You neither.”

Lena turns and meets Tricia’s eyes. “This won’t break me.”

“Glad to hear it.” Tricia sits quietly with her while they wait for the doctor to return. When he walks in the door, she gently shakes the smaller woman.

Lifting her head, Lena looks around the room. “I think they’re gone.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“They won’t come back will they? They’re really gone, right?”

“I don’t know.” Tricia turns to the doctor, who has pulled up a stool.

He answers, “They should be. That is why ketamine is such a popular party drug. There normally aren’t flashbacks from it.” He works quietly on her hands for a few moments. He breaks open several of the blisters on her right palm.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to pop blisters?” Tricia asks.

“The liquid from a burn blister is prime breeding ground for bacteria. The entire field needs to be kept clean and dry.” He gives some instructions to the nurse regarding the dressing before taping Lena on the knee to get her attention. She keeps slipping into a light sleep.

“Yeah?”

“I am going to prescribe you something that does not include hallucinations as a possible side effect.”

Lena opens her eyes. “Forget it. I’m not touching anything stronger than an aspirin.”

“Your hands will be extremely painful for the next 24 hours. You need to have something stronger if you are going to get any rest.”

“I’m pretty tired but I don’t expect to sleep anytime soon. I’ve got a shift to finish.”

“Actually, neither of us do,” Tricia grins at her. “Your malingering worked. Melissa has cleared us for the rest of the day.”

“We’ve got to prep the bus for the next shift.”

“Naw, she’s going to do that as well.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re concerned about you.”

“I’m fine now.”

“You weren’t fine even a few minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry that I freaked y’all out.”

“Well, she wouldn’t have offered to clean the bus without the scare, so something good came out of it.”

“She’s cleaning our ambulance?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell her I told you.”

“Cross my heart.” Lena takes a deep breath and slowly lets it go. “Can I go home now?”

Consulting with the nurse, the doctor agrees. “You need to keep the dressing dry. Because the blisters will drain, you will need to change the dressing tonight and tomorrow morning.”

Tricia nods. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“I want a shower.”

“You need to wait before you can do it yourself.”

“Hey, Hodges. I can help.” Tricia is grinning lecherously at her.

“Thanks for the offer but I will try and make it without your aid.”

“That might be a little difficult.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doctor Rabito has agreed to release you but only into her care. For the next twenty-four hours she will be responsible for making sure that you follow the medical orders.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah. We just witnessed a fine example of that.”

Lena struggles to stand up. She shakes off the hands from the nurse and her partner that try to assist her. “Lay off.”

“Calm down. I won’t push, okay?”

“That will be the day.” Lena looks around. “Did I have a shirt on when I got here?”

Tricia shakes her head. “Uh, no. It was trashed at the scene."

Leaning against the bed, Lena nods slowly. “Yeah, I remember now.”

The doctor speaks up. “I am prescribing an antibiotic, an anti-inflammatory, and another painkiller. Don’t take any alcohol or operate any heavy machinery.”

“Don’t worry on that score. I won’t even let her operate the DVD player.”

Lena glares at her. “Anything else?” she asks the doctor.

“You are going to feel a continuing lassitude for another hour or so from the dose of ketamine that I gave you. You might want to schedule an appointment with someone to talk about what you went through. I can recommend a doctor here at the hospital.”

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I will include the clinic’s information in the aftercare instructions.” He holds out a bag to Lena before blushing, turning and handing it Tricia. “I think that’s it.”

Looking at her wrapped hands, Lena sighs. “Okay. Let’s go, Tinkie-Winkie.”

“Hey, I told you never to call me that.”

“You shouldn’t wear that purple pullover then.”

“I can wear what I want.”

“Truly. You just can’t complain when your nickname fits.”

Tricia opens the door. “You’ve got the paperwork, right?”

The nurse nods. “Yes, your supervisor gave us what we needed.”

“We’re off then.”
Chapter Four
Tricia walks beside her through the bustling emergency room. The place is jumping and it isn’t even dinnertime yet. She watches her carefully, ready to lend a supporting hand if necessary. Lena’s steps are slow but steady all the way out into the ambulance bay.

Melissa looks up from her position in the cab. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Lena keeps her head down. “Sorry about in there.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” Melissa closes the supply log and hops out. “You two get in and I will run you to your car.”

“Dibs on shotgun,” Tricia calls.

She reaches out a steadying hand as Lena begins to climb into the back compartment. Lena freezes for a moment half in and half out before she suddenly pushes herself back out of the ambulance. She takes two steps away from the vehicle before she falls to her knees and begins to retch.

“What the fuck?”

Melissa comes back around from the driver’s seat. “What happened?”

“I have no idea. She didn’t even make it in before she jumped back out and started to puke.”

“Lena?” Melissa steps over to the woman on the ground. She glances back over to where Tricia is standing. “Bring me a tissue.”

She takes the tissue and wipes off Lena’s mouth. Her head hangs down and she is trembling.

“Can you tell me what triggered that?”

Lena’s voice is ragged. “That smell.”

Nodding, Melissa looks over at Tricia. “Do you have cash for a cab?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because whomever you transported here left a fragrance behind.” Melissa lays a hand on Lena’s shoulder and gently pats her. “I can smell it and I didn’t go through what she just did.”

Tricia leans into the ambulance and breathes in through her nose. “Yuck. It smells like burnt meat.”

Leaning forward, Lena tries to bring something else up from her already empty stomach. “I’ll never escape it.”

“I’m beginning to have second thoughts of letting her go with you, Tricia. Have some tact.”

“Sorry.” Tricia glares at the interns and doctors who are staring at the three of them. “I mean it, Lena. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. The smell is bad.”

“Yeah. Hard to forget.” Tricia spies a taxi dropping off a fare and waves at it. “Can you go now?”

“I think so.”

Melissa helps her to stand and Tricia puts an arm around her waist to help her walk over to the waiting cab.

“She isn’t going to get sick in my car, is she?” the driver demands.

“No but I might if you take too long.” Tricia answers him. “We need to go to the 3rd District Fire Station. You know where that is?”

“I can find it.”

“Good.” Tricia pulls Lena into her. “Try and rest, honey. We’ll be home soon.”

Lena slowly relaxes against the larger woman. The motion of the cab lulls her into near sleep. The ride to the station house takes hardly any time at all. Tricia sits forward to direct the cabbie to where she parked her truck.

“Right here. The white pickup.” After she pays the driver, she shakes her partner. “Wake up for a moment.”

Lena blinks groggily for a moment. “Sorry. I’m little out of it.”

“Got that. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

She gets into the front seat of Tricia’s pickup truck. Tricia leans in and hooks her seat-belt on her. She then checks to make sure that Lena is clear of the door before slamming it closed. She starts the car engine and asks softly, “Hey, Lena?”

The other woman does not respond. Tricia taps her fingers on Lena’s leg. “Hello? Anybody home?”

“I’m fine,” Lena answers automatically. Her head jerks up and she peers around in confusion.

“Uh, that’s good but where do you live?”

“3998 Eureka. At St. Andrews.”

“Is that Uptown?”

“Yeah. Off South Carrolton.”

“Okay. We’ll be there in a jiffy.” Tricia releases the brake and heads uptown. She glances over at her passenger but Lena has fallen back asleep. By the light of the dashboards and passing streetlights, her partner looks haggard. The circles under her eyes are so dark as to look bruised. Tricia takes a deep cleansing breath and puts her concentration into navigating through the rush hour traffic.

Taking a left off of Magazine, Tricia maneuvers her Toyota around several pedestrians heading to dinner. She shakes her head at the nerve of them, risking their necks by crossing in the middle of a crowded street. After a shift, she sometimes has a difficult time adjusting to normalcy. It is hard to remember that life goes on without a ripple after watching someone die.

They arrive without incident at her apartment building. Lena lives in a large, gray stone complex. Surrounding the building is a black iron fence. Glancing at her sleeping partner, Tricia decides not to wake her to find out if there is parking inside. As she considers parking in the next block a blue Ford Focus pulls away from the curb. Quickly, she turns on her signal and she eases her white truck into the space.

“You got your keys?”

Lena jerks awake. “I said I’m fine.” She sees that the truck is stopped. “What?”

“Your keys?”

“They’re in my pocket.” She struggles with the seat belt before Tricia leans over and releases the catch.

“Hang on a minute and let me help you out.” Moving quickly, Tricia leaps out and flings open the passenger door. She helps Lena swing her legs out and she supports her under her arms as she gets out.

“Thanks.” Lena looks at her bandaged hands before raising them up. “The keys are in the right one.”

Tricia hesitates a moment before sticking her hand in Lena’s right front pocket. She searches around just a bit longer than necessary before pulling them out. “Got them.”

“Took you long enough.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve never had any complaints before on the time it takes me do things.” She looks up at the high rise. “What floor?”

“Five.”

The two of them stagger up the front steps. Tricia struggles with the keys until she finds the right one to open the main lock. She glances at the mailboxes in the vestibule. “You want me to get the mail?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Tricia wrinkles her brow as she studies the double line of metal boxes. “I don’t see your name up there.”

“I’m subletting.”

“Oh.” She pushes open the heavy inner door and Lena leads the way to the elevator. She holds up the wall while they wait for the car to descend to the lobby.

“You lived here long?”

“About a year.”

“Really? And you never put your name on the mailbox?

“I don’t get any mail here.”

Tricia looks at her in disbelief. “Why?”

She shrugs. “I just don’t.”

“You like living here?”

“It’s just a place.”

Tricia watches Lena watch the numbers change as they pass by each floor. “Do you have a home?”

Lena cuts her eyes over toward her. “My parents live in Georgia.”

“Home, Lena. You know, home is the sailor home from the sea, the hunter home from the hill.”

Stepping forward before the doors have fully opened, Lena speaks over her shoulder. “I did twice. They are both gone. I won’t get into the position of losing it again.”

“That sounds pretty harsh.” Tricia steps forward when Lena stops at a door. “This the one?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. I know that it won’t be this key. Maybe this one is the right key? Right on.” Tricia flings open the door and grandly waves Lena through. She walks down the hallway behind her partner and stops in disbelief as she steps into the large, empty room. There is no furniture in the space. None of the walls have any pictures on them. Except for a small cactus sitting on the window sill there is nothing in the room at all.

“Dude, don’t look now but you’ve been robbed.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Who’s your decorator? The IRS?”

“It’s not funny.”

“Hey, it’s either laugh or cry. I’m depressed and I haven’t been here five minutes. Is the rest of the place this bad?” Without waiting for an answer, she steps into the next room to see a futon on the floor and stacks of clothes lined neatly against the wall. Other than a couple of milk crates full of paperback books, there is no other furniture in this room.

Tricia walks back into the main room and looks at Lena. “You’ve been here a year?”

“Yeah.”

“Never found time to move the rest of your stuff?”

“This is all I need.”

Tricia walks into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. The appliance hasn’t even been turned on. She opens the oven door and sees the instruction book inside. “We are definitely not staying here.”

“Just leave me alone. I’ll be fine.”

“No, way. I took responsibility for you. I’m not having everyone dog my case because you died during the night.” She walks back into the bedroom. “Grab a change of clothes. You know, something to sleep in. You are coming home with me.”

Lena stands glaring at her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Knock it off, Tiger. You can growl all you want but we are leaving here in just a few moments. I will not hesitate to carry you.”

Dropping her head forward, Lena sags against the door-frame. “Please. I can take care of myself.”

“Who are you kidding? I could probably knock you down with a feather. Better idea, you just stand there, I’ll pack.” Tricia walks over to the closet and opens the door. Hanging up are several sets of uniforms. On the floor are several gym bags and a couple of suitcases. She pulls out a gym bag and opens it to finds it full of cash. She glances over at Lena before stirring the contents. There are packs of $50’s and bricks of $20’s. There are also a lot of loose bills of various denominations.

Wordlessly, she puts the bag back on the floor and grabs another. With not a little trepidation, she opens it up. The bag is empty and she puts a change of clothes into it. She quickly goes through the bathroom and gets Lena’s toothbrush, shampoo, and some scented oil from beside the tub.

When she comes back out, Lena is starting to slide down the wall. Tricia puts her shoulder under her arm and lifts her up. “Come on. We are really going home this time.”

Chapter Five

Tricia props her against one of the walls in the elevator and punches the button for the lobby. She turns and looks at her once the doors close with them inside.

Feeling the stare, Lena raises her head. “What?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not asking you to understand anything. Can’t you just respect my wishes?”

“Not when your wish puts you in danger.”

“My wanting to spend the night in my own bed is hardly a death wish.” Lena shivers. “Although spending it in yours might prove to be.”

“What?”

“It isn’t safe for you to take me home. Look, if you’re not going to let me stay in my own bed, how about we go to a hotel?”

“Why in the world would I shell out the cash to take you to a hotel when my place cheaper, closer, and a lot nicer?”

“Because I am asking you to. I’ll pay the bill, don’t worry.”

“With all that cash?”

“What are talking about?”

“Drop it. I saw the bag of money in your closet. What did you do? Rob a bank?”

“If I could rob banks would I work as an EMT?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s your alternate identity? Savior of the injured by day, corruptor of morals by night.”

“Do I look like a criminal to you?”

Before Tricia can answer the doors open on the ground floor and Lena stumbles out. With a sigh of exasperation, she reaches out and keeps one hand on Lena’s upper arm to help navigate her down the steep stoop. She walks her to the truck and opens the door.

“All right. In you go.”

Lena drifts off again once the car starts again. Several times during the drive across town, Tricia starts to say something to her. She can’t see waking her up as she knows that before too long the pain in Lena’s hands will be making it impossible for her rest.

They pull up to a blue painted shotgun double. Tricia parks in the driveway and nudges Lena before climbing out and over to her side of the truck. Her partner tries not to fidget as Tricia wrestles to get the seat belt unbuckled. She can feel the heat of a blush rising on her face as she tugs at the recalcitrant webbing. “Almost there,” she mutters before exclaiming “aha” as it finally lets go.

Lena struggles up the few front steps and Tricia keeps a supporting hand on her bicep. She ushers Lena in once the door is open and calls out, “Lucy! I’m home!”

Lena watches in bemusement as a red haired cat comes running down the hallway and meows until Tricia picks it up.

“Lena, I want you to meet Lucy.”

“Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you sit down on the sofa while I go change the sheets?”

“I can sleep on the couch.”

“Sure you could. But the bed is bigger and so am I.”

Lena is asleep when Tricia comes back. The cat is curled up in her lap. She takes a moment to heat some water before waking her friend up.

“Come on. I know you don’t want me to carry you.”

Mumbling, Lena allows herself to be led into the bedroom. Tricia leaves her sitting on the edge of the bed while she collects the heated water, a towel, soap and a washcloth. She sets the lot on the nightstand table and tugs on Lena’s shirt.

Lena tries to bat Tricia’s hands off her shirt when she tries to take it off. “What are you doing,” she asks, her words slurring slightly.

“Look, you can’t have a shower. Let me at least get some of the grime and the smoky smell off of you.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Well, I won’t. Remember, I’ve got to sleep here too.”

“Tricia, please don’t.”

“What is the big deal? You don’t have anything that I haven’t seen before.”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” Lena responds cryptically.

“Just stop fighting me. As soon as I get you cleaned up, I’ll give you another pain pill and you can sleep.”

“You don’t understand.”

“You keep saying that but you never explain.” Tricia takes hold of Lena’s chin. “Do you have any concept of how bad a patient you are?”

“You have no idea.”

“Honey, I am going to do this. Your choice is to use what little remaining strength you have fighting me or using it to fight the pain when it really hits you.”

Blinking back the tears from her eyes, Lena lets her hands fall into her lap.

“Good. I’ll be gentle.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Tricia grasps the tail of the undershirt and pulls it up over the other woman’s shoulders and head. Slowly, she works it off over the bandages and throws it to the corner. She looks back at Lena. “Fuck.”

Even in the dim light, the horrible scarring is visible. Hunching over, Lena tries to conceal the marks that cover most of her arms, chest and back. The disfiguring white ropes of scar tissue run in intricate patterns over her skin.

Tricia has to bite her lip to keep from asking her what happened. She gently pushes Lena back on the bed and undoes her pants before sliding them down. Making quick work of her shoes and socks, she pulls off the pants and puts them in a pile with the shirt.

Without a word, she dips the soft cloth in the warm water before squeezing it and running it over the prone woman’s neck. She feels Lena trembling beneath her hands and affects not to notice. The long strokes work to calm Lena down.

“Roll over for me, please.”

Tricia continues to wipe Lena clean. Her back is not as badly scarred as her chest. Picking up the oil she brought from Lena’s almost bare apartment, she warms a bit in her hands before gently massaging it into the knotted muscles.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Lena begins to relax. Her breathing deepens and her eyes, which have been staring at the wall or ceiling since her clothes came off, close.

Tricia takes the bowl of water back into the kitchen and returns for the clothes. She throws them into the washer and goes back into the bedroom. She stands looking down at Lena, debating whether to wake her and give her a pill or just let her sleep. Deciding that the pain medication could wait, she tosses an afghan over her and turns out the bedside light.

Pacing around the living room, she ponders the scars. They looked deliberately made but Lena certainly isn’t acting like she put them on herself. Many of them were in locations that would have been impossible for her to reach. Tricia has seen people into ritual scarification and self mutilation but Lena doesn’t act the part.

Sighing, Tricia picks up the phone and dials her work number. “Hey, Melissa. It’s Tricia.” She pulls the curtains closed. “Yeah, she’s sleeping now. Can I ask you a question?” She listens for a moment. “Well, I saw the rest of her and she was pretty cut up and I don’t mean emotionally. You know the story?” Tricia straightens up a pile of magazines on the coffee table. “No, I don’t want you to break a confidence but I think I should know.”

Rolling her eyes, she settles onto the sofa. “Do you think she might really answer?” Restlessly, she stands back up and circles the room while listening to the answer. “Just because it worked for you doesn’t mean it will work for me.” Tricia listens for a moment and then laughs. “Thanks for nothing.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I will just open up a box or something and that will be that. So, what are the odds of my getting a day off tomorrow? Well, you know how my boss gets,” she chuckles. “Thanks. I will give you a call in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’ll try that. Have a good one. Bye.” Tricia replaces the phone on the charger and shuffles through a stack of take out menus stuck onto her bulletin board. Deciding against any of them, she opens several cabinets before pulling down a box of stovetop macaroni and cheese.

After putting water on to boil, she checks on Lena. The younger woman is curled into a small ball on the edge of the bed. As she watches, Lena’s leg jerks and her eyes snap open.

“Hey.”

For a long moment, Lena stays completely still; she doesn’t even seem to be breathing.

“Breathe, Lena.”

She draws a shuddering breath into her lungs. Tricia sits beside her and shakes a pill out of the bottle. “Take this.”

Lena sits up, pulling the afghan up to her breasts. “What is it?”

“Oxycotin.” She nudges Lena’s shoulder with the glass of water. “No bad dreams.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Lena tosses back the pill with a swallow of water.

“Finish the entire glass.”

Handing the empty glass back, she asks, “Can I get a t-shirt or something else to wear?”

“Of course.” Tricia pulls out a clean, white shirt from the dresser.

Lena puts it on and slides back down in the bed. She glances at Tricia before laying her arm over her eyes.

“How long was I out?”

“About a half hour. Why?”

“I can’t recall the last time that I was able to relax enough to get a massage much less fall asleep after it.”

“I wish I could take responsibility for that but you were really wiped out.”

“I guess.”

“Try and rest. I will wake you up again when dinner is ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You should have something in your stomach to keep that medication down. I don’t want you to start puking again.” When Lena starts to speak, Tricia interrupts. “I know. You’re fine. Look, just humor me with a couple of bites and I will leave you alone.”

Raising her arm slightly, Lena’s brown eyes regard her. “You would really leave me alone? I find that really hard to believe.”

“You malign me, woman.”

“I calls ‘em as I see ‘em.”

“Shut up and rest. I’ll be back.” Going back into the kitchen, she adds the pasta to the boiling water and opens a bottle of Shiraz. Pouring a glass, she stirs the pot while sipping on the wine.

Tricia muses on the woman in her bed as she stands at the stove. She was Lena’s second partner in the squad. Her first had been one of the good old boys of the department who loudly resents all the extra work a female partner entails. The fact that it is his refusal to let the women do any heavy lifting or driving seems to be out of his grasp.

He called Lena a lot of names, concentrating on her stature and sexual orientation. Tricia knows for a fact that Lena didn’t report him but complaints were made and he was transferred to reduce the station’s liability for a harassment suit.

As Tricia’s partner had recently left the department to follow when his wife received orders deploying her to Subic Bay Naval Base in the Philippines, the two of them were paired up. It was a temporary assignment until other partners could be found that has evolved into a very satisfying working relationship.

Having had her share of partners in her nine years as an Emergency Medical Technician, Tricia doesn’t have preconceived notions about what her new partners can do. She has learned to work with whatever she gets. That first day, Lena was deferential to a fault. She didn’t have an opinion about driving, break time, what to have for lunch, or sports teams.

Then, they had a complex case involving a number of variables. Lena vehemently disagreed with the way she wanted to handle it and they had a brief but heated discussion. Tricia won that round but, now, more often than not she finds herself deferring to the other women’s experience.

She remembers joking once about Lena having a separate doctor persona. She was surprised when Lena became quite upset and told Tricia not to mock her. Squeezing the cheese packet onto the drained, cooked pasta, she reflects that it is just another of a long line of things that Lena doesn’t want to talk about.

Tricia heads back into the bedroom with the bowl of pasta and nudges Lena’s leg. When her eyes open, the pupils are widely dilated.

“Can you even see me through those eyes?”

Lena’s voice is rough. “I see what I need to see.”

“Come on, sit up now. Try to have a few bites.” Tricia sets up a couple of pillows behind her and holds a spoon up. She pulls it back out of reach when Lena would have taken hold of it. “Nope. You need to rest your hands.”

“I can feed myself.”

“Don’t be so stubborn.”

Tricia holds a spoonful of cheesy pasta up and waits patiently for Lena to open her mouth. She glares at Tricia but eventually relents. After eating a couple of bites, Lena shakes her head when Tricia offers more.

“I’ve had enough. Thank you.”

Nodding, Tricia begins to eat what is left in the bowl. “So, you want to talk about it?” she asks around the bite in her mouth.

“About what?”

“You had a really shitty day. A whole host of things happened that brought up some bad memories.”

“Yeah.”

“Talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your friend and I care about you.”

“Can I ask you as my friend to drop it since I have to work with you as my partner tomorrow?”

“You can’t tell me as your partner?”

“You’ll treat me differently.”

“No more than I obviously will already given what I have seen and heard today.”

Lena rubs the back of her hands against her eyes. “I’m really tired. Can’t we do this later?”

“No,” Tricia replies. “I don’t think you will tell me if you aren’t high.”

“You’re taking advantage of me?”

“You’ve got it, girlfriend. Now, spill.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with why you don’t like that hospital.”

“I did my psych residency at Mercy.”

Tricia looks up from the bowl in surprise. “You’re a doctor?”

“Not quite. I couldn’t complete all my requirements.”

“Why not?”

“I was attacked and before I completely recovered I watched my attacker kill my lover. It was hard enough to come back to sanity. Going back into the program wasn’t an option.”

“Tell me about being attacked.”

Lena sighs. “I was working in the prison ward on the eighth floor and this patient put me into his fantasy world. We had no idea about the extent of his obsession until he found a way to escape from jail and track me down.”

“What happened then?”

“He raped me. And cut me.”

“Those scars?” Tricia asks, gently running her fingers over Lena’s forearm.

“Yeah. He said that I have a star being born in my chest. He could see it radiating under my skin. That is why he sought me out. He had to show everyone the lines of fire. He took this scalpel that he used like a paintbrush.” Lena pulls her legs up and holds them close to her chest. She rests her cheek on her knees and stares at the far wall. “He would patiently wait every time I passed out until I was aware again. Then, he’d go on.”

Moving slowly, Tricia reaches up and begins to stroke Lena’s head. She feels her trembling under her hands.

“Tell me about Gail.”

“I’m so tired.”

“You are obviously hurting. You’ll rest better for having talked about it.”

“You’re planning to heal me in an evening?”

“Healing takes time. I’m trying to find a way for you to sleep this evening without bad dreams.” Tricia tucks some hair behind Lena’s ear. “Naming things takes away their power over you.” She waited a beat. “Please, tell me about Gail.”

“She was my girlfriend.” Lena is quiet for so long that Tricia thinks she has fallen asleep. “She was great during my recovery. She was so supportive. I…I couldn’t stand being touched. She was patient, waiting for me to heal.” Jerking upright, Lena glares at Tricia. “And it got her killed. Just like it can get you.” She tries to get out of the bed but her legs get tangled in the sheet.

“Whoa. Take it easy.” Tricia reaches out to Lena but stops when she flinches from the raised hand. “I’m not going to hurt you, honey. Just lie back down.”

Lena sits on the edge of the bed, shivering. “I can’t do this again.”

“What do you mean, again?”

“He escaped. The police came to warn me. Given our history, they thought he might come after me again. Everyone thought it was for the best if I left my place for a while. So, I went to stay with Gail. We had always been very discrete. She wasn’t out at work. She was a financial adviser and we rarely went anywhere together.”

She swallows convulsively. “But he knew. I don’t know how he found out but he tracked us down. I wasn’t home when he came. Gail was. He…he did things to her. And…when I got there, he…he,” Lena stutters.

“What did he do?”

“He made me beg. Beg for her life. B…beg for him to fuck me. Beg to be his,” Her voice starts to rise. She gulps and continues. “He made me…made me promise to do anything he wanted.” Starting to cry, Lena allows Tricia to pull her into her arms.

“He choked me as he came. I blacked out. When I woke up, I was chained to the radiator across from Gail. He poured gasoline on her and told me that he had to make sure that he had my complete attention. He set her ablaze. I couldn’t get loose. I tried. I really tried.” She is rubbing the scars on her wrists. She doesn’t seem to notice the tears making tracks down her face and looks up in confusion when Tricia hands her a tissue. “I still can hear her screams. I can sometimes smell the gas and burning skin.”

“God, everything today must have been triggering memories,” Tricia whispers.

“Triggering?” Lena’s voice rises. “I was reliving them with that damn drug in my system.” She pulls out of Tricia’s loose embrace to look her directly in the eyes. “Don’t you see? My being here puts you in danger.”

“Honey, he wouldn’t be able to escape from death row, would he?”

“He isn’t on death row.”

“What? Shouldn’t he be facing the needle yet?”

“The penal system added on time for the escape but he hasn’t ever gone to trial for what he did to Gail.”

“Or to you.”

“Right, or to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because his lawyers claim that he is mentally incompetent to stand trial.”

“That is a load of shit.”

“They argue that forcing him to take medication to make him legally competent violates his rights.”

“Whoa, you mean he is refusing to take anti-psychotics?”

“That’s what put him on the prison ward to begin with. He had a psychotic break and took on everyone in the exercise yard. He got the shit kicked out of him and a free trip into town for treatment.” Her head droops. “Can we stop? I’m so tired.”

“Do you think you can sleep now?”

“I can try.”

“As Yoda says, ‘Do or do not, there is no try.’”

“Thank you, George Lucas.”

Tricia kisses her gently on her forehead and stands up. “I’ll be in the living room. Just call if you need anything.”

“Uh, Trish?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I’ve been a bit of handful. Although I really wish that I was at my place, I, uh, appreciate you putting up with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tricia sits down on the couch and flips on the television. She finds it hard to concentrate on anything. After the tenth time through the channels, she tosses the remote down and picks up one of the paperbacks stacked on the coffee table. The Nevada Barr mystery doesn’t hold her attention any better and she soon sets it down as well.

Walking into the bedroom, she leans over the bed until she confirms that Lena is still breathing. Stripping off her smoky clothes, Tricia climbs into the warm stream of the shower. Letting the massaging spray work on the muscles in her neck, she tries to figure out which of her shampoos to use. Deciding on honeysuckle and linden blossom, she pours a nickel sized dollop into her palm. She takes her time, washing her hair several times to get the smells of the day off of it.

Chapter Six

Tricia finally steps out of the steamy bathroom. The heat and water pressure have pleasantly loosened the knots of tension in her back. Putting on an oversize t-shirt and flannel boxers, she stands in the darkened bedroom and towels off her hair. After a moment or two she stops and listens to the sounds that her sleeping partner is making. Lena is whimpering and twitching.

“Lena. Lena. It’s okay, honey.” Tricia sits on the edge of the bed and talks softly to the agitated woman. “You are safe here,” she says as she brushes the bangs back from the damp forehead.

Jerking awake, Lena flings an arm up and strikes Tricia’s wrist. “No!”

“Easy, girl. It’s only me and you here.”

Lena looks wildly around the room. “Where?”

“You’re at my house. You are safe here.”

“Safe,” Lean spits the word. “I will never be safe again.” She covers her eyes with her hands and tries to get her breathing under control.

“It will be all right. Don’t worry.”

Lena struggles to sit up and pull the covers up to her chin. “If I stay here, you will never be safe from him.”

“You’re just upset.”

“I need to get out of here.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah. I’m sure that was Gail’s last thought. Gee, this could never happen to me.” Her voice is falsely high and sarcastic.

“The guy is in jail and this is for one night.”

“One night might be enough. I can’t take that risk with another life.”

“I’m the one taking the risk.”

“You don’t have enough information to make an informed decision.”

“You seem to think that I’ve lived in a bubble. I’ve seen what’s out there. Why do you think I put myself out there on the front line?”

“The front line is the army or the cops. Rescue workers are just a low rent Swiss Guards. The very neutrality that allows us to help all sides keeps us from actually taking a stand.”

“What?”

“Evil is out there. It can’t be wished away and it certainly won’t go away if it’s ignored long enough.”

“What does that have to do with our jobs?” Tricia is genuinely confused.

“Take the boy. If the cops hadn’t killed him, we would have had to treat him. How many bodies did he leave?”

“Nine.”

“That’s right, nine. And if his wounds were more serious than the girls, he would have made it to surgery first.”

“It’s not our job to determine who is guilty or innocent. It is our responsibility to treat the sick and injured.”

“Now you’re making my point for me. We save their lives and they don’t have a change of heart. They use that life to destroy others. Should we not bear some of the guilt?”\

“No. People have to take responsibility for their own actions.”

“That is cold comfort for the survivors.”

“We can’t do anything about the future actions of our patients.”

“You ever think of taking your blinders off?”

“I don’t think I’m blind. I don’t live under a rock, either. I know what is out there. Heck, that boy today…”

“No,” Lena interrupts. “So what if he abused as a baby. No, he was sick and no-one picked up on the signs and so he was free to kill.”

“And your attacker isn’t just as sick if not worse?”

“No, he knows exactly what he is doing and deliberately stopped taking his drugs. He killed any number of people both before and after he flipped out.” Lena shivers and she presses her head against the wall.

“Flipped out? That is an APA diagnosis?”

“It might not be in the DSMR IV but it is accurate enough.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t want to argue with you anymore. You should try and rest.”

“How exactly am I supposed to rest, knowing that I am putting you in danger?”

“What danger? Nobody knows where you are now.”

“As far as you know. Frankly, that isn’t good enough for me.”

“Try and get some sleep.”

“No. I can’t.”

Tricia sits cross-legged on the bed and watches her as she fights to stay awake. When she sees Lena wiggling her fingers to use the pain in an attempt to stay alert, her resolve weakens.

“You’re not going to rest, are you?”

“Please. Let me go.”

“I can’t do that. You’re in no condition to care for yourself.”

They are both quiet for a while. Lena brooding and Tricia trying to figure out a solution that will allow them both to rest.

“Would you actually sleep the rest of the night if we went to a hotel?”

Her eyes light up. “Yes, I will. I swear.”

“You’ll do what I say?”

“Anything. Let’s just go.”

“A less scrupulous soul would make you pay for that anything but not I.” Tricia stands up and moves to the dresser for a clean pair of pants. She holds up a finger when Lena throws back the covers. “No. You will wait for me to help you.”

She sighs before relenting. Lena’s dark eyes watch her partner as she tucks in her shirt and puts on her shoes. Finally, she is fully dressed and so she gets a pair of sweatpants and socks out of a drawer. “Let me help you into these.”

Once those are on, Tricia grabs a sweater out of the stuff she packed at Lena’s apartment and gently eases it over the bandages. Kneeling by the bed, she loosens the laces on Lena’s shoes before wiggling them on. She stands and says, “I’ll get my wallet and we can go.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, right, I’m just a pushover. Do you have any preferences on where we go?” she asks as she leads the way to the truck.

“I don’t care. A chain would be best as we aren’t taking any luggage and most of the night is gone.”

“Great. They are going to think we are renting the room to have an affair.”

“Is it going to ruin your reputation?”

“I’ll have you know that I am a very smooth operator. I have never had an illicit rendezvous in a dingy hotel room.”

“That leaves legitimate trysts in swanky joints.”

“Well, I can tell you are feeling better. Your mouth is working again.’

“Are you telling me that you missed my quick wit?”

Tricia helps her into the truck seat. She pauses for a second to gather her thoughts. “Lena, you scared me there in the hospital and it broke my heart to hear what you have been through. I would miss you terribly if you weren’t able to sit beside me in the cab any more. I would profoundly miss you if you were no longer in my life.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I tend to get sentimental when I’m tired and stressed.”

“Thank you. I’m glad we partnered up, too.”

Putting the truck in gear, she glances over at her passenger. “Let’s get this mutual admiration society on the road, huh? There is a Holiday Inn over on the other side of Canal.”

“That sounds good.”

They make the drive in silence. The only sound comes from the squealing of the tires as they look for a parking space in the garage. They are the solitary souls in the lobby and quickly secure a room. Lena pays cash from a stash of several hundred dollars in her wallet.

As they travel up in the elevator Tricia asks, “Do you always carry that much?”

“Yes.”

“Why all the money?”

“It’s my escape fund.”

“Escape?”

“If he gets out again, I’m gone and this time he won’t find me.”

“How did you get so much?”

“I don’t really spend my paycheck on anything anymore.”

“But there must be a couple of thousand in your closet.”

“More than that. Last time I counted, it was $18,000 and change.”

“Here’s our room.” Tricia slides the plastic key in the lock and pushes open the door. “You have preference?”

“Hmm?”

“On beds? Which one do you want?”

Lena leans against the dresser. “Which one do you want?”

“I’ll take the bed by the window.”

“Tricia?”

“Yeah, babe?” She looks up from rummaging through her backpack when Lena doesn’t answer. “What’s wrong?”

“Could I sleep with you? I mean, in the same bed sleep, not, you know, sleep, sleep.”

“It’s okay, Lena. I understand what you meant and it’s fine. We can sleep in the same bed.”

“Thanks. I don’t think I could sleep as well alone.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Lena sits on the bed and struggles to ease one shoe off with the toes of the other. Her face glistens with sweat and she grinds her teeth as the pain in her hands begins to dominate her thoughts.

“Take this,” Tricia says, holding out another pill and a glass of water.

So intent in her efforts to get her shoes off without screaming, Lena startles at her appearance. “What?”

“Here is another pill. You’ve burned through the last one and I can tell that you are in a lot of pain.” She thrusts the glass out. “You promised to rest.”

“I know.” Opening her mouth, Lena lets Tricia drop the pill inside. She bends her head back for a sip of water and is quiet when Tricia starts to remove her clothes. She falls back into the soft bed and is almost asleep before Tricia can return with the bandages to redress her hands. Her eyes open halfway when Tricia’s weight dips the bed.

“I’m sorry I freaked on you.”

“Don’t sweat it. Give me your hands.”

Lena complies and yawns widely. “Sorry.”

“Try and let the pill work.”

Her breathing deepens and Lena hardly stirs as the gauze is wrapped and taped. Tricia pulls the thin blanket and bedspread up over the dark haired woman. She touches two fingers to her lips and gently touches them to Lena’s forehead.

Not long after she finishes washing her hands, Tricia climbs in the bed. She is quick to turn off the lights and join her friend in sleep.

Chapter Seven

It is late morning when Lena’s eyes open. She is disoriented for a bit from the sunlight coming in the window at the wrong angle and the bed being much softer than her own. She shifts and the movement of her hands wakes up more than her mind. Biting back a groan, she pulls the covers off and pads to the bathroom.

Not until she sits down on the toilet, does she realize her predicament. With her hands swathed in gauze, she wonders at the mechanics of wiping. She ends up pulling off a handful of paper from the roll and hoping for the best.

When she goes back into the room, she sits down in the chair beside the bed and watches Tricia sleep. There is something illicit about watching someone when they are unknowing. The woman in the bed beside her seems fragile, the inner strength softened by repose.

The weight of her gaze disturbs the sleeping woman and her eyes flutter open. When she spies Lena in the chair, her brow furrows in concern. “Are you all right?”

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. Is something wrong?”

“No. I was just watching you sleep.”

“If I knew it was that fascinating, I would have charged admission.” Tricia stretches. “How long have you been up?”

“Not too long.”

Sitting up, Tricia scrubs her fingers through her short hair. She licks her teeth. “Need to brush.”

“I do too.”

“Okay. I’ll put the baggies on your hands and you can shower as well.”

“Good. I stink.”

“Yeah but I’m too polite to mention it.”

“At least you were able to take a shower last night.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I just noticed that you smell good.”

“Thanks.” Tricia hides her blush by climbing out of bed. She shuffles off to the bathroom and brings back the paraphernalia to keep Lena’s hands dry. “Turn around.” She requests as she puts everything down on the small table.

She is quiet as she ties the bags off. Glancing up, Tricia finds Lena’s eyes on her. For a long moment the two women study each other. A knock on the door startles them both.

“Housekeeping!”

Tricia jumps up and goes over to the door. “Sorry. We forgot to put the sign out.”

“No problem, ma’am.”

She is shaking her head as she comes back into the room. “Well, that was fun.”

“You know, you can move pretty fast when you’ve a mind to.”

“I can also go as slow as necessary.”

Blushing, Lean stands up. “I’ll bear that in mind. Now, I think I’ll take a shower.”

“Cool.” Tricia throws herself back on the bed and stacks up the pillows behind her back. As she begins to surf channels, she ponders the tension that is building up between the two of them. She can’t believe that she is flirting with the younger women. It’s not that she isn’t attracted to her but she has always vowed not to play where she works. She is also concerned about the baggage she knows Lena carries. She works to convince herself that the speculation is pointless before dialing for breakfast.

When Lena comes out of the bathroom, Tricia smiles. “Feel better?”

“God, yes.”

“Good. I called room service. Food should be here in thirty minutes.”

“We can go out.”

“I sort of figured that you wouldn’t want the public embarrassment of me feeding you.”

“I can feed myself.”

“Not yet. Remember, I’m still the boss of you.”

“Not for much longer.”

“For all of today. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I think it might get a little boring to spend the whole day in this room. How about we go
to the aquarium?”

“You can take me home.”

“Not until tomorrow.”

“The doctors would never said that you were responsible for me for that long.”

“They didn’t. Melissa did. And if you want to keep your job, you shouldn’t piss off the boss.”

“You’d tell?”

“In a red, hot minute.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Deal with it. I should be out of the shower before breakfast is here but, if not, would let them in? That’s a dear.” Making air kisses, Tricia closes the door to the bathroom behind her.

Lena sits on the bed and rubs the towel over her head. Wrapped completely in towels, she can’t help feeling exposed. She is still sitting on the bed when Tricia steps out. “Where is my toothbrush?”

“It's in my backpack.” Tricia pulls it out and hands it over. “Have you decided what you want to do today?”

“I dunno.”

Tricia leans against the bathroom door and watches her partner brush. Lena watches her watch her. After spitting and rinsing, she turns around. “What?”

“I’m just checking to make sure you are all right.”

“I will be.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Tricia hangs up her towel. “So, have you decided what you want to do?”

“Well, I do want to go by Whole Foods so I can get some aloe gel.”

“You don’t like the burn cream the doctor prescribed?”

“I trust in homeopathic remedies.”

“Seems the medical profession would be an odd career choice for someone who doesn’t trust medicine.”

“Not at all. Sometimes you don’t need to rely on medical advances for treatment is all.”

“Yeah, all that money spent on finding cancer treatment is so wasted.”

“We would be better off looking back to the tried and true holistic medicine of history.”

“Yeah, I always thought leeches should come back into style.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, Trish. I think that we rely too heavily on the new treatments at the expense of the herbal.”

“Don’t let some of our ER docs hear you say that.”

“Have you ever heard me push alternative medicine on the job?”

“No.” Tricia helps her into her clothes. “Why not?”

“Because trauma treatment does require a lot of invasive technologies. No use muddying the waters until after you know that the patient is going to live. Can you help me put the sweater on, too? I’m still cold. It took forever for the water to heat up.”

“No problem.”

Lena opens the door when room service arrives. She smiles at the choices and blushes when Tricia catches her at it.

“I couldn’t decide what you would like so we have a selection.”

“Fruit, bagel, eggs, pancake, and cereal. They must think that they are feeding a football team.”

“Or hungry lovers who spent the past several hour cavorting madly in the sack.”

“Let’s not go there.”

“Why not? You turn such interesting colors.”

“I’m not your play toy.”

She smirks before holding up her hands. “Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“As long as it stays fun and light. I couldn’t bear drama after yesterday.”

Tricia sits down on the other chair and picks up a fork. “Does it bother you when I flirt with you?”

“Haven’t you noticed that I generally flirt back?” She points at the fruit and allows Tricia to feed her a few bites.

“Yeah but I know it only means friendship.”

“Do I look capable of handling anything more?” Lena nudges the plate of eggs. “Where have you been the past 18 hours?”

“The same I’ll be for the next 12. Right here beside you.” Tricia folded up her napkin. “How shall we spend the day?”

“Frankly, I’d like to take a nap before we do anything. I’m still pretty tired.”

“I understand. Will it bother you if I turn the TV on?”

“No. I think I will be able to sleep through a shift change.”

“Cool. You ready for a pain pill?”

Lena sits on the edge of the bed and looks at her hands. “Go ahead and give it to me.” She swallows the tablet and slides beneath the covers.

Picking up the tray, Tricia carries it out to the hallway. She locks the door behind her and turns out all the lights before settling in the bed next to her dosing partner. She clicks on the television and startles when Lena rolls over and up against her.

Smiling down at the sleeping woman, she decides on the Food Network Channel. In no time at all, she too is asleep.

Chapter Eight

“Here you go. Are you sure you don’t want me to come up?” Tricia puts her hand on the keys in the ignition but doesn’t turn off the engine.

“No, thanks. You’ve done enough for me.”

“Some how I don’t feel that you mean that as a compliment.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lena gathers up her duffle bag and fusses with her seatbelt.

“I just think I’m detecting sarcasm.”

“How could you tell?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because your lips were moving?”

“Ha, ha. You’re so funny.”

“You know, you say that but you never laugh,” Tricia mutters to herself as the door slams.

Lena heads up her front steps. After she unlocks the door, she waves at Tricia who puts her truck in gear and pulls away from the curb. She can’t help smiling at the thoughtfulness of her partner. Even though it was still light out, Tricia waited until she was safely in before leaving.

The first thing Lena does after locking her apartment door behind her is peel off the tape and gauze covering her hands. She dumps the duffle on the floor and grabs the paper bag from Whole Foods. She carries her bag into the bathroom and swallows a couple of aspirin.

Opening the bottle of aloe vera ointment with her teeth, she pours a handful in her palm. “Son of a bitch,” she exclaims involuntarily as the cool salve hits the blisters. Sucking in a breath, she rubs her hands gently together.

She holds the bottle between her wrists and trudges into the bedroom. She eases herself onto the bed and kicks off her shoes before putting her feet up on the pillows. Staring at the ceiling, she spends the next several hours reapplying the gel at thirty-minute intervals and blowing on her hands to relieve the burning.

As day passes into night, she watches the play of light across the cracks in the plaster. She admits to a certain pride in her ability to clear her mind from the horrors of her days work. But the dose of ketamine and the memory of what she has revealed to Tricia were like bystanders screaming in her head. Like most emergency workers, she hated arriving on scenes where the witnesses were making a bigger fuss than the patients. She never really developed the ability to ignore them and to focus on the injuries. Even now, in the dark of her bedroom, she fears that it is only the lethargy of the painkillers that keeps her from obeying their compelling incantations to run.

“No, I won’t do it.” Tears catch in the back of her throat but she doesn’t cry. As her chest tightens and eyes burn, she vows not to give anything else away. “This won’t break me.” She repeats the words she spoke to Tricia in the emergency room. “You won’t have the satisfaction.”

She sees in her mind’s eye the face she will never forget. She wonders if facing him in court would give her the kind of closure that the rape councilor spoke about. Grinding her teeth, Lena knows that only his death will give her back any sense of security.

It is late before she finally falls into an angry and restless sleep. She wakes several times in the night as her hands make contact with the sheets. “All right,” she shouts at the darkness before getting up to take a stronger pain pill than the Tylenol she took when she came home.

Up by 5 o’clock in the morning, she has to wrestle to get her hands wrapped. Lena considers stopping by the station to get one of the day shifters to do it for her but realizes that she really doesn’t want to go into work at all.

“Damn,” she mutters when the adhesive tape twists around itself for the third time. She throws the roll on the bed and stalks out of the room. Pacing in her empty living room, she wonders just what Tricia was thinking when she saw the place.

“You’ve come a long way, baby.” Lena says, looking at the space. Her previous apartment had been a third smaller but had been packed with inherited antique furniture and souvenirs of her travels. She catches sight of her reflection in the window and asks herself, “Who knew you could live without an armoire?” From the hospital after Gail’s death she had hired a company to pack and move all her stuff into storage. Except for the monthly checks for rental on the space, she rarely thinks about her furnishings.

“It’s different now,” Lena muses to the cactus, reaching out to lightly stroke the deceptively sharp spines. A gift from her former advisor in the psychology program, the cactus has survived her every attempt to neglect it to death. “I don’t think I missed anything until now,” she tells the plant.

Turning her back to the window, she looks over the room. The gray carpeting does nothing to ease the sterile feeling of the empty space. Since she moved in ten months ago, no one from work had ever come inside. Most of the friends from school and the hospital had drifted away during her long rehabilitation. “Tricia’s different,” she mutters and is surprised enough to trace the smile that appears at the mention of that name with her fingertips.

Shaking her head, she remembers how the other woman had broken through her self-imposed exile. Humming ‘How Ya Gonna Keep ‘em Down on the Farm’ to herself, she returns to the bedroom and finishes fixing the bandages on her hands. The finished product isn’t pretty but the healing skin is completely covered.

She grabs a handful of change and takes the elevator to the payphone in the lobby. “Is Captain Farrell in?” She waits for several minutes, smiling greetings to her passing neighbors. “Oh, hello, Lieutenant. This is Lena Hodges. I’m on swing and I need to take another sick day. Yeah, I’ve got one on the books. I’ll be in tomorrow for sure. Will you tell the Captain?” She listens for a moment. “Thanks. Bye.”

Walking down the street, Lena shoves her hands deep into her pockets. The early morning cool drives her into a coffee shop.

“Hey, you’re in awfully early. Did you switch shifts or are you doing a walk of shame?”

Lena blushes at the pink haired barista. “I was at loose ends.”

“Well, you know you are welcome in here anytime.” She winks at Lena. “So, what will it be today?”

“Hot cocoa and an order of beignets.”

Karla looks skeptically at her customer’s bandaged fingers. “Are you sure? You know how messy they are.”

“Yeah, I know.” She shrugs. “What can you do when you’ve got a craving?”

“Oh, sugar. I just wish we had time to discuss your cravings in more detail.” She flashes a quick smile at the growing line before her. “Whipped cream?”

For a brief second, Lena has no idea what she is talking about. Karla smiles again and points at the empty cup. Feeling her ears burn, she can only nod while handing over a 10-dollar bill. Dropping most of her change into the tip jar, she moves down the counter to watch as the chocolate and milk is heated with the steam wand.

Taking her drink and the plate with the fried fritters to a table, she stares at them for a moment. Now that she is faced with the powdered sugar covered dough squares, she wonders how she going to eat them without wearing their residue for the rest of the day.

When she comes out of the café, she has to duck around a large group of tourists. Standing in front of the gilded statue to the Maid of Orleans, she takes a deep breath and flips an imaginary coin.

Heads, she can will take the streetcar to the top of Canal Street and walk through Odd Fellows cemetery. Tails and she will ride out St. Charles Avenue and hike down to The Fly. Tails wins and so she heads west.

“Is this the right place to go into the Garden District?”

Lena looks up from her study of the sidewalk into the piercing blue eyes of a small, old woman. “Yes, ma’am,” she answers automatically.

“Oh, good.” The woman turns to three other women, all of them with white hair and pastel colored clothes. “We’re in the right place,” she yells. At their collective nods, she looks back at Lena. “Eugenia is deaf as a post.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She’s just sorry she can’t.” The woman chortles at her own wit. “I’m Claire Wilkins and these are friends from my Art Group. Eugenia, Sally and Rachel.”

“I’m Lena.” She looks down the street to check if the streetcar is approaching. “Enjoying your visit?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve been at the CAC all morning.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.”

“The Contemporary Art Center.” At Lena’s continued blank look, she elaborates. “It is a huge warehouse of local artists. You should really go. We are supposed to meeting the rest of our group in the Garden District for lunch but we got lost.”

“You read the map wrong,” interrupts Sally.

“You should have said something sooner,” she snaps. “Anyway, we knew we were going the wrong way when we got to Canal Street.”

“You’re heading the right way now.”

“Thank you. Where are you going?”

“Going to walk past the zoo to the river.”

“How fun. Do you ride the streetcar often?”

Lena grins. “It is a secret pleasure. As a resident, I’m not supposed to enjoy it.” She pulls her hands out of her pockets. “Also, my hands hurt too bad to drive.”

“Oh, dear. What happened?”

“They’re just a little burned.”

“Here, let me help you.” Rachel pulls the money out of her hand and feeds it into the fare box.

“Uh, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. You can help us by telling us when are getting close to Napoleon.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Lena waves at the empty seats. “Did you want to sit by the window?”

“That would be lovely.” Tucking her voluminous purse under her arm, Rachel takes the offered seat. “What do you do?”

“I’m an EMT.”

“What?” Eugenia asks loudly.

Projecting her voice, Lena answers, “I ride in an ambulance and help people.”

“Oh. An EMT.”

Lena laughs and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Is that how you hurt your hands?”

“Yes.”

Four pair of eyes study her intently, almost expectantly. Finally, Sally asks, “You don’t want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well, we’re just a bunch of nosy old ladies. Don’t think for a minute that you owe us any explanation.”

“Yes. We were only trying to be nice and make conversation with you.”

“It isn’t like we were trying to find out your bank account number.”

“Or your boyfriends shoe size.”

There is a retort on Lena’s tongue when she notices that all four of them are smiling at her. “You got me.”

“The young are so easy to tease.”

“Be careful. I could have you miss your stop.”

“No, you won’t.”

“She’s right. You are too polite to do something like that.”

Lena huffs out a sigh. “Foiled again by my upbringing.”

“Now, don’t be upset. That is a compliment.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Glancing out the window, she reaches up and tugs the cord to signal the driver to stop. “Napoleon is just ahead.”

“Thank you, dear.”

The small group bustles out of the car and stands on the curb. Claire is standing with the map and is pointing north, while Sally is adamantly facing the opposite direction. Lena’s last view of them is Claire waving the map over her head.

Smiling, she gazes at the stately homes that line the avenue. The oaks and elms are hung with strands Mardi Gras beads, flung too energetically several months ago. After a few short minutes, she pulls the cord for her stop at the top of Audubon Park. In no hurry, she treks through green space to the river walk.

“Hello,” she calls to the fast moving brown flow. She pours a small libation from her water bottle into the tributary. “Thanks,” she murmurs before wandering along the bank.

From childhood, being around large bodies of water brings her the greatest feelings of peace. Like the strong beat of blood moving through veins, the regular pounding of surf is the sound of health. The mighty Mississippi might not have the variegated colors of the Caribbean, the warmth of the Mediterranean, the energy of the Pacific or the seasonal moods of the Gulf of Mexico but it was here at her feet.

Lena sings quietly to herself, “Go, Mississippi, keep rolling along. Go, Mississippi, you cannot go wrong. Go, Mississippi, we're singing your song. M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I.”

Checking around to make sure that no one is near enough to hear her, she begins the next verse. “Go, Mississippi, you're on the right track. Go, Mississippi, and this is a fact. Go, Mississippi, you'll never look back. M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I.”
At the last I, she realizes how tired she feels. Taking a deep cleansing breath, she grimaces at the particularly feculent smell of this section of the river. She came down here, hoping that the murky depths can calm her jagged thoughts. “I guess we’ve all gone to shit,” she chides the waterway softly.

A trickle of sweat slides down her back as she reaches one of the benches that face the River. She sits down and watches a large barge motor past, its deck loaded down with cargo containers.

“Nice day.”

Lena is startled by the observation. She looks up to see an older, dark skinned woman watching her from the path. “Um, yes, ma’am. It certainly is.”

“I’ve been watching you.”

Her face flames. “You weren’t listening, too, were you?” she asks hopefully.

“Listening to what?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, I did hear a rousing rendition of the Mississippi state song.”

“Sorry about that,” Lena apologizes. “I get carried away sometimes.”

“There is nothing wrong with having a song on your lips.” The woman smoothes her hands down her brightly colored skirt as she studies the sitting woman. “You’re not fixing to jump in, are you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You’re looking a little peaked.”

“Yeah, I hurt my hands yesterday.”

“I don’t mean to disagree with you but you look like something more than your hands is bothering you.”

“I have a bit on my mind.”

“You come down here to watch the river?”

“Yes, ma’am. I needed to be close to the water.”

“Why?”

“I find it easy to think things out when I’m by the water.”

“This is a good day to spend by the water, no matter the reason.”

“Is there ever a bad day spent on the water?”

“Now that sounds like something my man would say.” The woman sits down beside her on the bench.

“He a fisherman?”

“When he could. He spent 16 years in the navy before coming home.”

“Does he still work on the water?”

“Nope. He bought a taxi medallion and was shot by a fare last Thanksgiving.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, honey. My man never spent a day feeling sorry for himself and I don’t plan to go against him by being sorry for myself.”

“It must be hard to go on.”

“What is the alternative?”

“Giving up.”

“No, I don’t think so. I guess since life hasn’t given up on me, I shouldn’t give up on it.”

“How do you keep going?”

“Sugar, look around at the wonder of life. Each day is a new promise. How anyone can even think of giving it up even one day sooner than God’s plan is a mystery to me.” She holds out a bag of licorice pieces. “Would you like a piece?”

Lena wiggles her bandages fingers. “I don’t want to stick these in your bag.”

“How about I fish one out for you?”

“Thank you.”

The two sit in silence, sucking on the candy and watching the water. A tugboat struggles upstream and gives a jaunty toot of the horn as it draws even with their bench.

They both wave and are rewarded with another blast of the horn.

“If things get any better, I may have to hire someone to help me enjoy it.”