Chapter 5: Diagnosis

Night driving is hard driving for me and I stopped two or three times to check on Logan, grabbing a short catnap each time I did.

It was almost light by the time we got home, and by the time I'd settled my patient into one of my bedrooms and squared away the other one, we were well into the new day. I'd get the rest of my sleep that night, but for the moment three or four hours would have to do…

I didn't even get that much – well before the alarm went off I was awakened by the sound of Billy sobbing.

My heart sank, as it could only mean that there was something wrong – or worse – with Laura.

"What is it, son?" I asked him, putting my arm around him and soothing him enough to clear his mind. "Can you feel anything from her?" And I sighed with relief when he nodded. "What's she feeling, Bill?"

"Laura hurts! Oh, she hurts!" Billy groaned, and he began to cry again.

Quickly, I fetched a needle and, just before I pushed in the plunger, I made emotional contact with him and was nearly floored by what I felt.

What Laura was experiencing wasn't physical, but I almost wished it had been, for I can't remember another time I ever had to experience the sheer hopelessness and loss that poor little soul was going through. In fact, not only did I give Billy a second needle, I gave myself a quarter-dose, too.

Since I wasn't going to be getting any more rest for awhile, I rummaged through my desk for a long-kept but still-sealed foil packet and I tore it open. Pulling out a blue card, I wetted a finger with my tongue and smeared it across the front to allow my DNA to reveal a phone number, which I then dialed.

After a few rings, an operator picked up, and I gave him a name before giving him mine. A full minute later, my party came on the line. "Well, Doc, long time no hear, how's Billy?"

"Fine," I said, "but it's Laura I'm worried about."

"Who?" he asked, though of course he already knew.

"A recent patient of mine," I replied. "She and her father came through my clinic about four days ago, and he was in rough shape. The young lady was physically okay, but mentally…"

He sighed. "Yeah, she's here. Diagnosis, doctor?"

"Well, based on what I picked up from Billy before I knocked him out, I'd say the girl's suffered at least an emotional collapse, if not a full breakdown on her part. Possible psychosis ... post-traumatic stress, certainly."

I filled him in regarding the time I'd spent with Laura, and then continued. "Unless you've got special talent up there, I'd say you've probably got your hands full."

"Full enough," he grumbled. "Thank God, we've got young Rictor, but there's only so much a kid can do, and he won't be able to do it forever."

"What's your plan?" I asked. There was silence for a few seconds, and then he answered.

"Quite frankly, Doc, before your call we'd run out of plans."

"Let me know how I can help," I said. "I didn't see her for very long, but I managed to get pretty fond of her, all the same."

"Okay, Doc, give me a few minutes." Then he disappeared, leaving the line open until he returned ten minutes later.

"How soon can you come here?" he asked. "Our folks are fresh out of ideas, and since you've treated her once already and she knows you, maybe there's something you can do."

"It's at least a twelve or thirteen hour drive," I replied. "Depending on where you are, not to mention I haven't recovered from the last trip yet – we only just got home a few hours ago."

"Forget the driving, Doc," he growled. "We can have a Lear Jet in the air within the hour to fetch you and your son."

"Sure," I said. "By all means send the bird, but we've got a few wrinkles to sort out first..."