Chapter 36

Russ picked up the notebook from his bedside table, found the pen and then (with both pen and paper resting in his lap), sat back and closed his eyes, relaxing himself the way Mark Conrad had taught him. It had certainly worked for him last night! Once he'd gotten started it seemed like he just couldn't stop writing. As Conrad had suggested, Russ didn't pause to think about what he was writing - or even read it over once it was written. He just wrote. Much of it was in short bursts, word or phrases rather than complete sentences.

Buzzing...hearing that BUZZ...no, feeling the BUZZ...a noise I can feel

Wake UP! Break those restraints...leave the hospital...

by any means necessary...

Punched them...Broke a window with a chair...I have a GUN...have to find Oscar...Oscar found me...

Finding that calm place within himself again, Russ opened his eyes, picked up the pen and continued to write.

''We don't have to talk, Sweetheart,'' Steve told Jaime gently, ''unless you're ready and feel up to it. But it might do you a world of good.'' He glanced over at Mark, who nodded his assent; according to the monitors, she was okay.

''I'm not even sure...where to start,'' Jaime told them both.

''Wherever you feel most comfortable,'' Mark answered. ''You can start at yesterday and work your way back - over time, not all at once - or you can start in the attic and work your way forward. Or anywhere in between, if there's something that's especially troubling you. Steve and I are here to listen...and to help.''

''Yesterday...morning...'' she began, flinching at the memory but trying to find the words she needed to say, regardless of how deeply frightened she felt.

''You woke up and couldn't breathe,'' Mark prompted, trying to aide her, to prop her up at least a bit with his own words.

''It must have been beyond scary,'' Steve added, his hand steady on Jaime's shoulder, trying to let her know she was safe.

''Yeah...'' She hadn't been able to see, either - and had no idea what was happening or who was doing this to her. She only knew with awful certainty that she was dying. Kingsley, her mind had told her as she'd struggled for oxygen - he'd come back for her, just as she'd known he would! She was almost blacking out, giving in to the darkness, when air suddenly rushed into her lungs and she caught the briefest glimpse of Rudy with a pillow in his hands.

What truly froze her with fear, what had made her wake up screaming from a double dose of sedation, was the knowledge that if Kingsley was able to make such a gentle, sweet soul do...that...he could get to any of them and force them to do practically anything! How could she even be sure the she, herself, had not been 'infected' by his evil? Jaime felt like a helpless victim (not a mantle she wore easily), waiting for the next blow to come, not sure where it would come from but knowing with an utterly sinking feeling that it was coming.

''So...how am I doing, Doctor?'' Rudy asked. (He, too, had been allowed to awaken so his physical and mental states could both be assessed.) He saw that there were now four armed 'penguin suits' surrounding his bed, instead of a pair of Security guards and this reassured him.

''Much stronger than yesterday; I'm very optimistic,'' Michael replied.

''About yesterday -''

''We've don't need to talk about this right now, Rudy. You should probably rest.''

But Rudy needed to talk about it. ''Thank you - for stopping me,'' he told his protege.

Michael knew that the attack had awakened Jaime from her sleep and its sudden nature (along with her position on the bed versus where the call button was located) meant that Rudy had pressed that button, sending out a call for help. ''I think you stopped yourself,'' Michael told him.

You don't need the gun...Let's talk...Russ's brain was firing images from his memory almost faster than he could write them down. He didn't dare stop to think about what he was writing; he just kept going, knowing he was getting somewhere - and it was important.

Grabbed him...still had the gun...out of the woods now...green van on dirt road...back doors opened...

Russ dropped the pen to the floor when the realization (no longer locked in his subconscious) hit him. He had turned Oscar over to Kingsley!

The more she spoke, the more Mark and Steve could hear strength and quiet determination returning to Jaime's voice. She feared for Rudy and Russ (and for everyone, really) as much as she feared for herself. ''There's...a lot more,'' she admitted, ''especially from...the park.''

Steve nodded, knowing she'd been held for hours before he'd gotten there. Mark nodded his understanding too - and stepped closer to the bed. ''You'll tell us about it when you're ready,'' he said. (The way Jaime's voice had begun trailing off at the mere thought of the amusement park told him she wasn't quite ready to talk about that yet.)

But - whether she was ready or whether she wasn't - Jaime persisted. ''There's...so much there...and maybe it could help...''

Steve shot Mark a quick look of alarm as Jaime started to tremble. She'd had enough - and both men knew it. ''We'll talk more about this - or whatever you need to talk about - later,'' Mark promised. He was beginning to loathe putting his patients 'out' as much as Michael did, but Jaime had done very well for her first try and there was no point in letting her endanger herself. With Steve's back blocking Jaime's view of his motions, he pulled the sedative from his jacket pocket and injected it into her IV.

''What's the status...on Kingsley now?'' she asked, even as her eyelids began to flutter. ''Because...I want to help...find him...I'm...going to help!...''