Chapter Eight

Point of Origin

Awareness came back to him gradually and he grimaced as the familiar smell of hospital disinfectant reached his nostrils. He groaned. His body felt like it was weighed down by led and his head felt muddy.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Sergeant Voight," a voice called out jovially.

He grimaced at the cheeriness of the voice and realized his throat was parched. The woman must have noticed because she quickly moved closer to him and lifted something off the nightstand next to the bed. "Here, I have some ice chips. They'll soothe your throat."

He suddenly panicked as he couldn't make a sound, his vocal cords too raw to function. The feeling was all too familiar even though he hadn't really been aware of it the last time it had happened. He reached for his throat, fingers trailing the skin, feeling for a cut of some sort.

"We haven't intubated you," she said, trying to calm him down. "But the doctors considered it for a moment because there was a swelling."

He took a deep breath and nearly coughed as it tickled his raw throat. His eyes finally flew open and he saw the young nurse who sat next to him with a friendly smile on her face. He thought she looked like Erin and realized with a pang of regret how much he missed her.

"Open your mouth," she ordered and gently gave him an ice chip.

He had forgotten how blissful they could be as it cooled his sore throat.

"Better?" she asked warmly.

Hank nodded thankfully. "Yes," he wheezed.

She brightened. "Good. I am going to fetch the doctor for you, let him know you're awake."

Voight decided to do a quick self-inventory only to discover that almost everything hurt but he broke into a careful smile anyway. He was alive, pain he could deal with.

OOOOOO

"Okay, I've got something," Adam said as he went over to the printer, grabbed the photo and walked over to the whiteboard to attach it.

Kim threw a glance over the top of her computer screen towards the whiteboard while Kevin rolled forward, sitting in his office chair.

"Lady and gentleman," Ruzek said theatrically as he nodded at Kim and Kevin. "May I introduce you to Lazlo Martin."

Atwater frowned as he compared the new photo with the one already at the whiteboard. He saw the same man, only, on the new photography he was much younger. "You mean Dale Rogers?"

"No," Ruzek corrected triumphantly. "Fifteen years ago, his name was Lazlo Martin. Amazing what you can find out when cross-referencing almost every record in the city."

"Huh," Kevin grunted in surprise. "Did you hack some informal channels?"

"I used my charm," he replied sassily.

Adam turned to Kim and blinked, she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"I am curious," Kim mused. "I am not sure I understand his connection to the cult. Especially now that we know his name wasn't Rogers."

Adam had a cunning expression on his face. "Wait for it," he said slyly. "Lazlo's parents were historians interested in old ancient Mexican civilizations. Edemia Martin, formerly Rogers, spent a lot of time and money trying to find a city atop of a plateau which her mother visited before giving birth to her.

Jay and Hailey walked into the bullpen and took their seats.

"So, did they find a city?" Kevin asked incredulous.

"No," Adam replied sadly. "After several years looking for it, Edemia decided to publish parts of her mother's diary. It describes how they find the most amazing city deep in the jungle, untouched by modern civilization. Apparently, Emily published an excerpt of their findings as they got home but no one took her seriously."

"Wait. Wouldn't that have been a major discovery back in the days?" Hailey asked curiously. "Why is this the first time I've heard about it?"

"Because of the many assumptions Emily made, the experts dismissed her theories as nothing but stories," Adam explained. "Edemia wanted to give, whoever was willing to listen, a chance to hear the whole story of her parents adventure."

The team waited for Adam to continue his resume of what he'd been able to find out.

"Anyway, Emily reported their findings and brought in a group of experts to help with the excavation. They weren't able to translate all the pictograms and scrolls but they understood the basics. The team faced a number of obstacles. The aircraft which was supposed to carry the artefacts back to the United States crashed and was never found. One of the archeologists died after being bitten by a viper and an assistant nearly lost his life due to an unfortunate encounter with a rare and obviously very dangerous plant."

Kim's interest peaked. "The same plant Doctor Danvers talked about," she deduced. "Reported by Emily Suissman."

Adam nodded. "The plants sap burns the skin of humans. The assistant fell ill with high fever and rashes all over his arms and hands."

"What happened after that?" Jay asked.

"A tropical storm nearly washed them away. When they ran out of supplies, they managed to hike down to a river and build a raft. After several days adrift they were saved by the Mexicans living close to the shore. There is no mention of anyone going back there. It's like reading a fairytale, which is probably why one of the critics went so far as to say that the city never existed and that it was a figment of the missionaries imagination."

"Fairytales aside. How do we tie this together in the real world?" Hailey asked as she started rubbing at her temples.

"There is a connection," Adam reasoned. "There must be."

Kim leaned forward over her desk, fixing Adam with a serious look. "Okay, let's say this lost city has something to do with the cult. How does Dante's Divine Comedy and his conical hell in the thirteen hundreds fit into all this?" she wondered.

"Don't know yet," he replied apologetically.

Kevin glanced around the room. "You know what? You all look like you're about to fall off your chairs. If sarge was here now, he would have told us to go home and get some sleep."

Kim groaned. "That's the best suggestion I've heard in a very long time."

OOOOOO

Hailey threw the keys on the bench inside the door and stifled a yawn as she turned to Jay with an enigmatic smile. "You know, Kev can be pretty perceptive."

Jay massaged his aching forehead. The sleep deprivation wasn't doing any of them any good at the moment.

She studied him for moment, concern written all over her face. She saw the conflicted feelings in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped. "Jay, what's going on in your head?" she asked softly.

He hesitated.

"Come on, it's me, Jay," Hailey encouraged.

He sighed. "It's just-," he paused and shook his head, "-I don't know. It just hit a little too close to home."

She gently began to massage his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension while she waited for him to continue.

He shook his head again, clearly frustrated. "Feels like we've been everywhere, talking to people, chasing leads. It wasn't until an hour ago I realized sarge could have actually died. I know it's stupid but it hit me like a ton of bricks."

"Why is that stupid?" she asked softly as she leaned back a little to look into his blue eyes.

"Hails," he said and swallowed, reaching around her to run his fingers through her long blonde hair, not sure what else to do with them at the moment. "I am not ready to lead this group. What if-"

"Hey," Hailey called softly. "Voight was never going to die. Don't be ridiculous. After everything he's been through during his years in the force – do you really think he would have let this stop him?"

Jay's lipped quirked upwards at that. "No, you're probably right."

"He'd kick your ass if he heard you right now."

The statement elicited a laugh from her husband as he pictured Voight being furious with him. "He can yell at me anytime he wants from now on."

"I am going to remind you about that because that's exactly what he's going to do to all of us if we haven't come up with something when he gets back."

"Hmm," he mused wearily. "Why don't we cure our sleep-deprivation first?" He suggested.

She chuckled. "The look on your face tells me you don't intend to just collapse on the bed and actually sleep."

"There is time for that too," he replied enigmatically as he steered her toward the bedroom.

OOOOOO

Will Halstead glanced out the window and realized it had gotten dark outside already. He threw a hasty look at the wall-mouthed watch and noticed it had already turned twenty-two-hundred hours. Another day gone by, a fresh set of people fighting for their lives. He lived to help and heal other people but he never seized to be amazed by the many creative ways a human being could kill another. Wasn't it enough with diseases? Did people really have to try and strangle each other, shoot each other, poison each other? To what intent and purpose?

"Hey," Doctor Marcel greeted as he walked out of the elevator, jacket on and his bag slung over his shoulder. "I am off. It's been a few crazy days around here, huh?"

Will smirked. That was an understatement.

Marcel glanced around the ED. "There's an awful lot of men and women in blue here."

"I take it you are only counting those in uniform?" Will asked, knowing there were several plain-clothed officers nearby as well. "Anyway, a lot of things have happened recently which has upset the police force."

Crockett nodded. "I know what you mean. I lost an officer on the table yesterday after that horrible shot-out in the park. Stupid meaningless violence," he said somberly. "Then, apparently, there was some kind of raid going down at the docks – connected to those bombings around the city. Had to pull out some bullets after the commotion, luckily most of the victims were driven to Lakeshore, otherwise we would have been swamped. I swear, sometimes, I don't know where this city is heading. I mean, I patch up people, hoping I'd never see them again, and some of them turn up within a few days."

Halstead pursed his lips into a thin line.

The surgeon shook his head. "I'm sorry, Will. I didn't mean to unload that on you," he apologized.

"No, it's okay. I know how you feel," he reasoned, offering a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You look a bit preoccupied," Marcel said.

Halstead sighed and rubbed absentmindedly at his chest. "It's just that Jay's gotten mixed up in something that creeps me out."

"Yeah. He works in the Intelligence unit. It is some kind of elite unit or something, right?" Crockett guessed. "I think I saw him a few hours ago. He's got a blonde partner?"

"Hailey Upton," Will offered kindly, choosing to ignore the first statement. "They got married a while back."

"Wow, yeah. I guess that kind of work, sticking your neck out all day, risking your life on daily basis creates strong bonds between people," the surgeon stated and then curiously changed subject. "From what I understand from the creepy scene in the elevator, you recognized one of the victims – Hank Voight?"

"Sergeant Voight," Will said with a faint nod. "He's the man in charge of the Intelligence Unit where my brother works."

"I thought he looked familiar but I couldn't place him," Crockett replied seriously. "I've seen him around a few times. He was here when that hotshot Ray Price was campaigning for the election. Never thought I'd pull out a bullet from a mayor candidate."

"Shouldn't have been any different from any other gunshots," Will pointed out.

"In theory, no," Crockett admitted. "It's just that in reality, people aren't equal and treated the same way."

OOOOOO

To be continued