Kieran glanced up from his clipboard as Mike walked into the office looking a little more refreshed the following morning. Gone were the dark circles under his eyes, and the few hours of sleep he'd managed had erased most of the haggard lines of worry from his face. Freshly shaved, he appeared almost ten years younger as he slid into the seat Kieran had vacated.
Accepting a cup of fresh coffee with thanks, Mike's eyes drifted over the checklist of call-ins. "Nothing more from Jamie?" he asked, already knowing the answer, as hers was the only name without a time marked beside it.
Kieran responded in the negative, shuffled his feet and twirled a pencil in his hand, which he studied with rapt attention, not raising his eyes to Mike's. "What is it? You've got something you want to say?"
"Well—" He shifted from one foot to another, the pencil spinning like a top on the edge of his index finger as his thumb flicked it back into motion each time it came to a stop. He pulled his gaze away from the pencil and met the other's stare as Mike lifted the coffee cup to his lips.
"Come on, out with it. I'm not in a guessing mood." Mike's voice mirrored his frustration. If Kieran had information, he wanted to know about it, not play games. He knew the subject, or rather whom Kieran wished to discuss, and last night he'd cut him off abruptly when Kieran started to ask questions. Mike had not been willing to analyze his own feelings and thoughts at the time, nor did he care to share them with someone else. He still wasn't sure he wanted to share anything personal, but after a night's rest and more contemplation he thought he at least owed Kieran a listen. After all the kid, as he'd come to think of Kieran, had pulled his weight remarkably well during the last few days with no complaints, thus Mike steeled himself for what was coming.
"Is Jamie being held as a hostage?"
The simple, straightforward question left Mike speechless for a moment, and he set the coffee cup down on the desk before his shaking hands spilled its contents. He'd expected Kieran to eventually ask this question, not blurt it out leaving him fumbling for an answer. His first reaction was to laugh it off, but how would he convince Kieran if he couldn't convince himself? He'd asked himself the same thing as he'd replayed yesterday's short conversation in his mind, over and over, while he'd tossed and turned, before falling asleep.
He still had no answers, only fears.
Mike didn't dare to look at Kieran, afraid his expression would give him away easily. "I don't know," he said, aware his voice cracked at the end. There followed what felt like hours, rather than a few minutes of silence and Mike prayed he could keep his emotions in check for any further questions. None came.
They were both jumping to conclusions. There had been no confirmation from Jamie about the identity of her rescued stranger, and she hadn't sounded distressed when he'd spoken to her. Yet, adding to his feeling of unease, she hadn't checked back in and Mike knew she was well aware of the set protocols. He also hadn't gotten a chance to follow up on the cougar sighting she'd mentioned. Damn the weather and damn the feeling of helplessness he was forced to endure while they waited for answers. He fidgeted in the chair, nearly knocking over his coffee cup with his elbow. He managed to pull his arm back in time as the liquid sloshed over the rim, creating a brown pool on the desk. He swore softly.
"I've set the receiver to scan every ten minutes in case she's using a different frequency," Kieran said.
Mike nodded his acknowledgement relieved at the reprieve. He swiveled towards the computer screen, keeping his back to Kieran. The screen showed nothing but a warning about a failed connection and he tapped a few keys, getting nothing but the same response from the machine. Technology was only useful if the power and satellites held out.
"The National Weather Bureau radio update is claiming the storm is subsiding, and we've got a heavy Northern front following close behind." Kieran handed Mike a message printed neatly on a piece of notebook paper, the time noted only thirty minutes earlier.
Mike reread the message, then slid it to the top of the desk. "Hopefully it remains cold enough that the lower elevations won't experience any flooding," Mike said aloud, already thinking ahead to evacuation planning. A Northern, or warm winds and temperatures coming after a heavy snowfall, would melt the snow quickly and overfill the riverbanks and streams. He knew from experience that it was impossible to predict Mother Nature, and better to be prepared and ready for the worst before it stole upon you like an unexpected visit from your relatives.
As if reading his mind, Kieran acknowledged his next question before he could ask it. "I've already sent out a bulletin advising a flood watch for the next seventy-two hours." Mike nodded and turned back to the radio.
"Let's continue the bulletin at every check in, and get confirmation." Mike wondered if the weather could get any crazier for the month of October? "I used to laugh when the old timers would say, 'you ain't seen nothin' yet'. Now I know better. Go get some sleep," he told Kieran, taking another swig of coffee. Then as an afterthought added, "And don't bother with the alarm, I'll wake you if I need you." He waved off the younger man's objection, leaned back, propped his feet up on the edge of the desk and opened his book. Just another day in paradise he thought. As he read, one eye continually strayed towards the receiver in the off-chance his ears wouldn't pick up a faint rogue signal under the steady hum of white noise. Sooner rather than later.
+++house md+++house md+++
Only so many hours in a day could be wasted by filling and draining a tub, bathing, eating, and watching the cleanup after a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon and pancakes. House had long ago hit his tolerance level for restless inactivity. He missed Wilson and his stupid ties. And a part of him, albeit a very miniscule part, would have preferred a few clinic hours just to have something to do, even if it entailed how to avoid doing those hours.
He took a sip of the lukewarm coffee that remained in the bottom of his cup, more for something to do than to quench any thirst, and was beginning to understand the phrase "cabin fever".
The last time he could recall this feeling of entrapment and utter boredom was when he'd taken his SAT's in high-school, and had to sit and wait until the rest of the students were finished. They hadn't even allowed books to be brought into the exams. Once he was through with the current section, he was left watching the second-hand on the large-faced clock tick away the seconds. He was sure that time was moving in reverse.
Jamie had spent the last half hour trying to establish contact with the outside world, fiddling with the dials and trying to raise a response in the ocean of white noise, leaving House to his own methods of keeping himself occupied. There wasn't much he could do: his cell phone was useless, having been dead for almost a week, so a game of solitaire was out, and the novel sitting beside the bed with its bare-chested, muscle man posed seductively on the cover didn't even remotely interest him as far as reading material. There was no television in the room, no magazines lying about, and no decks of cards. In fact, as he surveyed his surroundings for playthings he realized that, much like his own apartment, there were no pictures of family or friends visible. It was almost as if the room had been designed for use as a hotel. Drop by for the week and take your things when you go.
His thoughts strayed to the pantry and the room he'd found concealed behind it. For once he was hesitant to confront someone about their secrets. He frowned, trying to think of a way to broach the subject without alienating his roommate, especially since he was enjoying the added benefits of being "friends".
He glanced at his watch noting with a sinking feeling that only another ten minutes had passed. This was going to be a very long day. He propped his chin in his palm and sighed loudly, barely resisting the urge to drum his fingers on the tabletop. He let his eyes rest on Indy who was lying in front of the door, head resting on his front paws, looking just as bored as House felt.
Indy whined and was the first to pull his gaze away for the third time since House had enlisted him in a stare-down contest. He pushed up to his haunches, shook his head and turned to scratch at the door, looking back over his shoulder towards Jamie with a wistful expression.
"Would you two stop it?" Jamie said, interrupting House's sport with the dog.
House pointed at Indy, and opened his mouth to declare the hound a sore loser, when Jamie reached out and roughed his hair in a playful manner before he could speak.
"Comforting to know which one is the alpha male," she said in a sultry voice
He made a swipe at her as she passed him, his fingertips just brushing her sweats as she side-stepped nimbly beyond his reach.
"I'll show you alpha, and omega," he growled in disappointment, as his hand closed on empty air.
She tilted her head, giving him a saucy smile as she opened the door to let Indy out, and then settled back against the closed door with folded arms. "Pretty sure of yourself for someone who gets around as slowly as you do."
"A bum wheel doesn't detract from the high performance engine." He stood in one smooth motion, propelled upward by his arms and one good leg, and leaned forward on the table, daring her with his look.
There was a smoldering tension, which had nothing to do with the fire in the stove, and House felt the temperature in the room increase significantly. Jamie's blue eyes darkened as she stepped toward him, wetting her lips. Whether purposeful or not, that small movement sent his pulse racing and House quickly reassessed his negative definition of the term "cabin fever".
Jamie stopped a few feet from him, but then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as a primal scream pierced the calm. Gone was the look of the suggestive temptress and in its place, confusion, concern, and fear, all tangled over her features, dousing the passionate atmosphere as effectively as a splash of cold water over burning coals.
Instinct seemed to kick in and Jamie spun towards the door, ignoring his shouted warning. She was too quick for him as she slipped into the foyer and dashed to the outer door. Thankfully she hadn't pulled the inner door shut behind her or House would never have caught up to her.
She tugged at the knob, one hand braced against the wall forgetting momentarily about the deadbolt, all the while shouting Indy's name, her voice laced with panic. House watched in horror as she pounded the door with a fist and then began fumbling with the deadbolt. Using anything he could for support, House stumbled forward, grimacing with each step. He was forced to grit his teeth against the pain as it shot up through his leg with each jolt against the floor.
The deadbolt seemed to stick, and it was all the extra time House needed as the flat of his palm pushed against the opening door and halted its progress. Not to be denied, Jamie grabbed the door knob with both hands and threw her body backwards in an effort to open it, letting out a loud grunt. House's arm bent under the pressure, but he was close enough now to throw his body against the door and it slammed shut with finality, accompanied by a series of yelps, snarls and shrieks, that became muffled through the wood.
Jamie whirled on House with her fists raised and began to hammer against his chest. "Let me go!" She threw her shoulder at him in an attempt to dislodge him from the door. Tears streamed down her scrunched face as the words came out in long drawn out staccato gasps in-between sobs. "I've got to get to him. You don't understand I—"
The last words were muffled as House succeeded in grabbing and holding what felt like a whirlwind. The struggle put strain on his right leg and it buckled under him. He slid down the length of the door, pulling Jamie with him and they landed in a heap on the floor. House refused to release her and Jamie continued squirming and pushing with everything she had. He proved to be the stronger of the two, even though it was taking a lot out of him fast, and they were both panting with the effort. House's arms shook with effort, overworked muscles complaining and Jamie continued ignoring his pleas to stop until a final yelp ended in abrupt silence.
Jamie's body went limp with the knowledge that the struggle outside had ceased and House loosened his grip, and closed his own eyes in relief as he fought to catch his breath. He could smell Jamie's shampoo, mingled with a sharper, more metallic odor. It was the smell of fear, he knew, coming off her in her sweat. She shook in his arms and from the wet warmth spreading across his chest, he knew she was crying. Her hands fisted into his shirt then suddenly she was pushing up and away from him.
Her face was covered with red splotches and anger emanated from her entire being. "You bastard," she spat with all the venom she could muster and he brought up his own hands in defense as she swung on him.
If he'd thought she had worn herself out in the struggle to reach her dog, he quickly learned she had a storehouse of deep reserves. One of her fists slipped his deflections and clipped him on the chin and House decided to end their tussle quickly by rolling on top of her, trapping her underneath his body.
She screamed, ranted, wiggled and struggled, but at least he'd stopped her wild punches from connecting with anymore of his body parts and knew she'd wear herself out soon enough. He lifted up a few inches to look at her when he felt the fight finally go out of her. She wouldn't look at him and turned her head, still sniffling and not bothering to wipe the snot that mingled with her tears falling to the floor.
"I'll let you up if you're finished," he offered and was met with silence. Taking the chance she'd regained control of her rage, he rolled off of her and sat up, keeping a wary eye on Jamie. With one hand he rubbed his sore chin and the other unconsciously went to his right thigh, the need and desire for a Vicodin overloading his thoughts, but he was too exhausted to make the effort.
House stole a glance at Jamie who lay in the same position he'd left her. Her body was twisted in the arrangement one associated with old police crime scenes, where an outline was taped onto the floor marking that of the deceased. If he hadn't seen her blink a few times, he might have shown more concern, but he attributed her lack of action to stubbornness and grief.
"It's only a dog," he muttered, sure that where she'd clobbered him on the chin he could feel the beginnings of a bruise.
He was no longer watching her, instead judging the distance to the bed and his duffel bag where he'd find his Vicodin. Focused on that, he was unaware that she was rising and reaching for the door behind him. The sound of the bolt being thrown pulled him out of his temporary daydream and he turned his head as the door swung open. It hit his shoulder with enough force to knock him sideways and he cursed as he twisted and grabbed at Jamie's ankle. She was already out the door, and again House was left grasping at empty air. She stumbled down the few steps leading into the covered carport, calling out for Indy.
"Come back, you don't know what's out there!" He wanted to add another expletive and knew he would only waste his breath, and also knew she was aware of exactly what was out there. A very large and dangerous threat.
House's stomach clenched in fear, all too aware that the cougar was probably still nearby. He started to search his immediate surroundings for anything he could use as a weapon if needed, cursing Jamie's stubbornness. He frantically pushed clothing off the benches into haphazard piles, and tossed footwear aside, checking below the seats. His search was rewarded with a pair of metal ski poles and a large Magnum flashlight that had a good weight to it, if you wanted to hit someone over the head, but he wasn't sure he wanted to test its effectiveness against an overgrown cat. Still, it was a light, as the grey morning outside couldn't cut through the darkness inside the covered carport..
He got to his feet, grimacing at the pain and wishing he was making the trek to his duffel bag rather than out into the carport. The cold was already sinking into his body and he shivered as he took a tentative step out into the darker room. Jamie had already disappeared behind the tarp and a lone strip of pale light shone where the opening was.
Using the ski pole as a makeshift cane and bracing an arm against the wall, House stepped down with his right leg and gingerly placed it on the next step. He shivered from the cold, his t-shirt offering little protection from the below freezing temperatures and he could feel the moisture already hardening into miniscule icicles inside his nose.
Why the hell was he chasing some crazy lady outside into a blizzard? Especially one who'd gone running after a dog that had been attacked and more than likely killed by a cougar? It would be just as dead later. He was angry that she was stupid enough to chase after Indy, giving no thought to her own predicament, or his. He felt no obligation on his part to repay her for saving his sorry ass, he told himself. But he certainly wasn't too keen on the idea of getting stuck out here by himself, and it gave him something to focus his anger on.
There was a scuffling noise beyond the tarp and a few sharp gasps as if something big was moving close. House gripped the flashlight tighter, raising it above his shoulder and readied it to swing if something should come through the tarp. The noises grew louder and he recognized the grunts as more human and relaxed his stance. The tarp moved in a wavelike motion as something pushed against it then it swayed and opened further as Jamie's butt pushed back into the carport. The falling snow no longer resembled large potato chips tumbling earthward and had turned into a fine powdery mist that swirled and danced about the moving figure.
She was leaning over and pulling a large object, sniffling loudly in between grunts. Her breath was coming out in large grey clouds as she huffed and puffed from the exertion, making House think of the little engine that could. How had she managed to move him, unconscious, any distance when she was struggling so hard with the dog who was a fifth of his weight?
"Help him," she said, dragging the limp animal closer. House could make out a dark trail that stretched out along the grooves carved into the snow where she'd dragged Indy.
Dead animals weren't his thing and he leaned forward, grabbing Jamie's arms, wanting to pull her back inside. She shrugged him off, refusing to let go of the dog and House turned the flashlight on.
Jamie laid Indy at House's feet and dropped to her knees, bending over the unmoving animal. The flashlight beam played over her tear-stained face as it looked up into his. "Do something," she pleaded, holding Indy's head to her chest, the other hand stroking his fur.
The expression of hope on her face sent a wave of helplessness crashing over him. He could see the dark stain spreading outwards from under the animal and in the small circle of light, more of the liquid matted in his fur. House had to look away. It wasn't the thought of death that bothered him, or that of blood, but the idea that she had enough faith in him to think he could work miracles.
He played the light over the dog's head again; sure his imagination was playing tricks on him. But no, there it was again. Indy blinked. And as House shone the light on Indy once more he saw the pupils respond to the light.
"Get him inside, not much I can do out here except freeze my ass off," he said, already ascending the steps that led back to the warmth and his Vicodin.
+++house md+++ house_md+++