On the Edge of Wakefulness
Chapter 2
Kevin got into the elevator of the Manning Building, feeling each sway and bump along the way to the top floor. He ran a hand through his short dark hair and sighed, aggravated he was playing Todd's game. Regretted not having spoken to Viki first as she might have been able to shed light on this ... paperwork. On the other hand, she might have changed Kevin's mind about going after Todd so hard.
The elevator stopped at the penthouse level with a jerk and groaned open. Quick as light, he stood in front of the door to PH2. The door to hell, he said to himself bitterly. Letting out a hard breath, he concluded Viki would survive his nailing Todd to the wall on this Michelle thing. She would be better off without him, society would be better off without him. Absolutely ... definitely.
Kevin bent down and lifted the doormat the way Todd had told him to, pausing as its velvety material caressed his fingers. It was an unusual material ... it felt ... alive almost ... inhabited.
"You're losing it, Kevin," he said aloud before he picked up the key. Shook his head, frustration with Todd still pecking at him, making him wish he was someplace else.
Knock, knock, knock, Kevvie.
He unlocked the door and it swung open, the entire Penthouse itself seeming to invite Kevin in. He shuddered involuntarily at that and stepped inside, leaving the door open. He walked through the entrance way, quickly finding himself at the edge of the living room, inside Todd's ... home. He shuddered again, sure now of the unmistakable living deadness he felt. The place was inhabited ... by ghosts, demons, even. It felt like a tomb.
Look around, Kevvie! Have a really good look, why don'tcha!
Right away, he spotted a bag on the floor, a pile of messed-up clothes next to it. Clothes appeared to have been kicked toward the stairs. Two crumpled shirts near the door, as if they'd been thrown. Glancing over at Todd's large desk to his left, black-stained and modern, where the paperwork was supposed to be, thinking he wanted to get the hell out, Kevin suddenly caught the sound of the shower running.
"Todd?" he yelled uncertainly. He ambled toward the stairs, past the couch, past the fireplace, past the incompletely packed bag, and began to go up. Each part of the Penthouse seemed to eye his movements, waiting for him. It's gotta be Todd up there, Kevin reasoned, changing his mind about going to see, turning and making his way back to the desk.
Oh come on, Kevvie. I'm here waiting for you. Come look ... come find me. Come to my blood-letting celebration.
Kevin saw the paperwork Todd told him about: a smoothed-out report from an investigating company. On top of it, though, lay a handwritten note. He picked it up, recognizing Todd's handwriting and ... read it… hitting words… didn't want them to find the body.
"Fucking hell…" Kevin's heart dropped into his gut and he turned, racing up the stairs, calling out hoarsely, "Todd!"
Couldn't run fast enough. Each step beneath his feet felt bigger than the previous, each step stretching itself to watch Kevin's ascent. As he reached the final step, he saw blood seeping out of the bathroom's door and steam floating ethereally upwards.
"No!" He pushed open the door and … oh God, no ... no ... no ... his stomach lurched at the horrific sight of Todd's nude body lying flat on the floor in a large pool of blood, water showering down. Blood, so much blood, where does it come from?
"Don't do this, Jesus, don't do this!" Kevin absently grabbed the nearest towel. He dropped to his knees and pulled Todd's muscular but slight upper body onto his lap. He couldn't believe how cold he was.
"Oh God ...oh God," Kevin kept repeating.
Shaking and sick, he quickly looked to see where the blood was coming from and saw Todd's forearms, both cut bad. He could see muscle, skin flayed open, several long cuts. Was that the white of bone?
Holding the more damaged limb in his hand, he attempted to use pressure to stop the sluggish bleed. Used his other hand to take off his belt. He quickly tied it around Todd's arm below the angry slashes as a makeshift tourniquet. He tied the towel around Todd's other arm, continuing to use pressure even though the bleeding from that side seemed to have stopped on its own. Todd's head lay back off Kevin's thigh, his mouth slightly open, his eyes closed. His long hair, matted and wet from blood and water, fell onto the floor.
Why, Kevvie, welcome to my Hell!
Kevin searched for a pulse on Todd's neck, checked if he was breathing. When he couldn't sense anything, he screamed, "Help! Someone! HELP!" Held there by his efforts to contain the situation, frozen, Kevin looked at Todd in his arms, angrily saying, "Don't you die, don't you goddamn die…you selfish bastard!" Todd was so pale in the bathroom's harsh light and he seemed so cold.
Kevin screamed again, "HEY! Help!" His voice faded out with a last desperate gasp and he wondered for a moment if it was really over. He had to get to a phone, but his body wouldn't - couldn't - move. The blood on the floor slithered beneath Kevin's knees, tethering him.
At the very moment Kevin had screamed for help the first time, Sam had walked into the Penthouse through the open door. He thought he heard a voice that sounded like Kevin Buchanan's so he ran up the stairs, two at a time, and then ... like a nightmare, like a parent's worst nightmare, he saw Todd, lying naked in Kevin's arms surrounded by blood. Sam's heart shattered into a million pieces. Kevin turned and looked at his rescuer, silently mouthing the words, help me, Todd's suffering evident on Kevin's face.
Do you feel the heat now, Kevvie?
Sam's groped desperately for his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1, spitting out an order to get an ambulance and paramedics to the Penthouse immediately, "He's bleeding, Jesus, he's dying..." Hanging onto the phone, repeating instructions to Kevin, Sam looked for something with which to cover Todd, knowing how much he hated to be exposed. He found a black and velvety towel with gold embroidered "TM" initials and put it across Todd. Sam thought of Todd always wearing long sleeves and pants and heavy coats; the more clothing, the better. And they had to be black or brown. No bright colors, too damn cheery.
Tears started to flow down Sam's agonized face as he lay the cell aside, as he moved to kneel close to his young friend, his almost-son. Kevin was afraid to move because he didn't want to release the pressure on Todd's arm. Truth was, though, the bleed had stopped. Bad bad sign. Sam pleaded, stroking Todd's forehead, trying to get him to wake up, "Can you hear me, pal? Come on … wake up…"
He couldn't believe it. He's a survivor, remember? In their conversation about Todd's possible rape, Sam had told Todd that he hadn't survived his childhood trauma, but Todd argued that Sam was wrong. That he was a survivor. So … Todd would never do this. Self-preservation was the name of Todd's game. Survival was Todd's way of LIFE!
Now who won, buddy boy?
The paramedics arrived much to the relief of Sam and Kevin and began prepping him for transport, commenting that Todd's blood pressure was dangerously low, that he had lost a tremendous amount of blood. They couldn't tell how much damage he'd done to himself, nor what was done exactly. They started an IV line, moving fast. The team knew that once Todd's blood pressure began to return to normal, if it did, the bleeding could pick up again. He had to get into surgery fast to tie off those veins and arteries and repair whatever other damage was inflicted.
Kevin listened as one of the paramedics, a young woman, radioed Llanview Emergency and advised the intake operator that a male, somewhere in between age 25 and 35, was coming in from the Manning Building with severe bleeding from both lower arms from a steel blade, in late stage shock. The paramedics were able to confirm that Todd was still alive, but barely. His pulse was very fast, one said. He was completely unresponsive and his pupils were dilated, the other said. The paramedic then explained to Sam that with Todd's being in severe shock, he risked heart failure. They gave him oxygen, covered him with blankets and swept him off in a gurney to the ambulance waiting below. Sam accompanied them, close behind the paramedics.
Leaving Kevin behind.
Once they were gone, Kevin stood in the bathroom alone in complete and utter disbelief. He was covered in blood. They were bonded together now, true "blood brothers." From womb to tomb. The phrase confused and tormented him now, bringing on an unrecognizable pain. He hated Todd ... and yet with equal conviction, he didn't want him dead. But ... maybe it was the conviction of an executioner ... death row inmates are always kept safe ... and healthy ... before they're hanged.
Suicide ... is a big no-no on death row.
Whatever the root of his intense emotion, he was unprepared for it. He'd seen death on Todd's face and felt it on his body. Kevin heard death laugh at his measly attempt to derail Todd's fate and felt it breeze by. Death... had found its way to Todd and was planning on sticking around ... like mist, like ... blood.
Beneath the sounds of the wailing siren, the paramedic rested one hand on the side of Todd's neck, monitoring the delicate thump of his pulse. She had him hooked up to a monitor, but she always thought there was something miraculous in that blip under the skin.
She knew who Todd Manning was and rather admired the way he had lifted himself out of less than savory circumstances to become a newspaper magnate. She shook her head and hoped he would be able to pull himself out of this one. Her partner watched the monitors as they flew down the streets of Llanview.
Soon enough, they arrived at the hospital, the patient covered in blankets to help reduce the shock to his body, having not shown a favorable response so far. He had also been placed into anti-shock trousers to help him ... anything and everything to save him. With the help of her partner, she rolled the gurney out of the ambulance to begin the process of saving Todd Manning's life.
Inside the hospital, a Llanview police officer stood by as the ambulance arrived. All suspicious injuries required the input and investigation of the police. The paramedics had reported that they suspected a suicide attempt as the cause of Mr. Manning's injuries. The cop was there to check it out. If it appeared to be a suicide attempt, he'd get admitted into psychiatric care. A judge would order it, Judge Campbell of course.
He glanced over the blanketed Todd casually as he was rushed in, equipment resting on the side of the gurney, blood on the pillow. He overheard the staff commenting on the knife that was brought in and which also lay on the gurney next to Todd, wrapped in plastic. A nurse stepped over to him, said, no doubt, he tried to kill himself. He made a few notes and headed back to police headquarters to confirm the attempt, to start the wheels turning for a psychiatric lock-down court order.
Todd was placed in Examining Room 3 and the emergency room doctors began working on him, one female voice calling for blood, "Type O - stat!"
A male voice snapped, "Prep him for surgery, the bleed's started up again. Didn't know cutting was still in fashion."
Another male voice chimed in, sounding like he was talking to Todd, trying to get him to respond, "Hey, guy, can you hear me? You have people who love you, man. You gotta' wake up! Wake up! Let's GO!"
Then quieter, "He doesn't want to be here. BP's all over the place ..."
"They never want to be here when you catch them early."
"Yeah ... next time he won't be using a knife, either ... he'll graduate to a gun."
"What a positive thinker you are!"
"It's true, though ... isn't it?"
"Seen too many to contradict you."
A female voice then commanded, "Can we get that blood, damn it?! And get some more fluid into him ..." And on and on it went.
Sam had gotten out of the cab of the ambulance, following the gurney inside. He now stood watching the staff in Room 3 work on his broken friend. He stood outside the open doors, aching and silent. Dr. Larry Wolek, a longtime Llanview physician who had seen more than his share of sad cases, was coming down the hall, having heard of the arrival of their new patient. He had examined and treated Todd Manning on several occasions and despite his criminal past, Dr. Wolek learned to appreciate his wit and seeming imperviousness to Llanview's intolerance of its Dark Prince. Todd's presence on this night saddened and surprised him.
He gave Sam a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder with a slight smile and a wink as he brushed past and popped his head into Room 3, asking, "How's it going, people?"
Sam looked at him blankly. The repetitive beep of a heart monitor drifted among the intermingling voices of the doctors and nurses working on their patient.
"We're prepping him for surgery, Doctor, but he's still in shock with a fluctuating blood press -"
Just as the nurse said that, one of the doctors yelled, "Damn… he's coding!"
One long continuous tone moved across the hospital's emergency room, signaling a stopped heart. Several people in the waiting room looked up, one with his foot wrapped in a large ace-band and elevated on a cardboard box, another one with a sick-looking baby in her lap sucking on a bottle of juice and occasionally crying tears of discomfort.
Todd's body jerked with the jolt of electricity running through his body, one exposed foot flexing involuntarily. The staff stopped and waited to see if his heart started up again. When it didn't, a doctor said, "Again."
Todd's body once more reacted to that searing intrusive jolt and Dr. Wolek heard the familiar beep start again. He breathed out and looked over at Sam who had been holding his breath as well. Sam rubbed his face and moaned softly into his hands. Sunk to the floor against the wall.
Dr. Wolek didn't disturb him - he understood the shock and helplessness family members and loved ones feel when one of their own attempts or succeeds at a suicide.
Sam turned his head and gazed at Todd on the gurney, oxygen mask on, noticing some of his long hair hanging off the side of the bed, blood having darkened the dangling locks to a dull brick-tinged brown. He looked at the floor hopelessly. A member of the staff came up to him and said that they would be putting a breathing tube into Todd to protect his airway, and that, once he stabilizes, they would be sending him to emergency surgery. No prognosis.
A baby's cry drifted across the emergency room, with a comforting shush behind it.
Kevin, in his once-pressed chino pants topped by a once-pressed oxford blue shirt, haphazardly wiped the floor with a towel. He smeared the blood, accomplishing nothing. Blood brothers, now, he thought to himself, staring at the brownish-red streaks across the floor. He was surprised at how easily he recalled his hatred for Todd, a man who never hesitated to take a shot at the Buchanan family. Any opportunity to tear at "family," at his vision of stability, Todd would devour it.
At the same time, Kevin found himself mourning Todd as if he lost a real brother. It hurt to see the blood, to see someone having given up. With that thought, with a deep sense of dread, he realized he had to call his mother and tell her what happened. He didn't want to, was afraid to. God, he lost her once to her illness, would he lose her again to sadness? He didn't even know if Todd was still alive.
Facing the deed, he walked out of the hellish-looking bathroom, picking up his cell from the floor. He'd dropped it when he'd found Todd. Dialed the familiar number of the Banner and managed to mumble out his request, "Hey, is Viki Buchanan still in? It's Kevin."
He closed his eyes and sank to the floor, his eyes drifting to the blood again, still visible to him on the tiled floor.
The operator told him that Viki wasn't in. She'd left a message stating she'd gone home. Kevin dialed their home number.
"Hello?" Her voice sounded serious. Kevin struggled to speak, feeling a loss of control at the sweet, comforting sound of his mother's voice.
"Mom . . . ," his voice broke convulsively. He knew he was scaring her, but there was nothing he could do about it. The words stuck behind a shocking degree of fear.
"Kevin? What's wrong, what's happened?" She paused at Kevin's hesitation to tell her, at his inability to tell her, and then she gasped. She knew.
"It's Todd, isn't it?"
"He tried to kill himself, Mom. There was so much ... blood. Christ ..."
He cried into the phone, unable to stop it. What was he doing?
"Where - Kevin - where is he?" An astonishing moment of calm.
"Where?"
"Tell me where he is," she firmly insisted, knowing where he'd be, but she had to get her son under control.
"Llanview Emergency."
"I'll meet you there." She gave nothing away of her emotions when she hung up the phone. Kevin knew she was on her way. Business to be had. Always taking care of business.
He slumped in the hallway, recovering from his brief break-down with his mother, regaining control. What was the next step? The hospital. He dreaded the obligation, not wanting to see Viki fall apart, perhaps having to identify Todd's body. He held his head in his hands, still feeling the weight of Todd's body over his legs.
Kevin looked at his hands, blood still on them, and wondered if he was responsible for this. After all, he was the one who pressed forward with the Banner's ground- breaking, ball-busting article condemning Todd as the murderer of Georgie Phillips. And he was the one who wasn't letting up on Michelle's disappearance.
Georgie Phillips. The accusation that Todd had killed her had really gotten to him. Made him crazy enough to take hostages. Why? Georgie had no apparent connection to Todd - they hardly seemed to have known each other. She was simply another nut who was a little like Todd: a displaced drifter, an outcast, trying to make her way in the world with dark methods. In Georgie's case, by blackmailing the Buchanan family.
The detectives found a letter on Georgie's person showing she was attempting to blackmail Kevin's paternal uncle Bo Buchanan, Llanview's upstanding police commissioner. Georgie wrote in her letter that she had evidence of Bo's disloyalty to the police force and to the citizens of Llanview. She claimed she could prove Bo was part of a massive bribery ring involving the city of Llanview condemning real property in order to turn around and sell the property to rich entities way below market value in exchange for huge kickbacks. Georgie's theory of the bribery ring was shot down by the Llanview police force quickly and deftly, nothing further being done about it. Ended up though, blackmail had nothing to do with her death.
Rachel confessed to the murder indicating they had gotten into a fight, that Rachel had been sure Georgie was going to kill her. Unfortunately, it didn't rise to the level of self-defense, so Rachel had to plea-bargain. Georgie was dismissed as a "kook".
Kevin shook his head and stood up, reluctantly. Wondered if Todd would be going to Hell where Kevin had always supposed his ultimate destination would be. He walked down the stairs, still shaky nevertheless from his experience. He breathed deeply and sadly. Composed, however.
Kevin was just about to walk out the still-open front door when he noticed the paperwork on Todd's desk. He cringed when he saw the edge of Todd's suicide note peeking out from behind one of the desk's legs. He bent down and picked it up, re-reading it, bewildered by the light tone of the message. His chest tightened with a flash of heartache, recalling the sight of Todd in the bathroom. How long would that memory keep coming back to him? It had taken over. He couldn't replace the bloody image of Todd with how Todd looked normally, sauntering into Banner, flippant and smirking at Kevin, throwing a sarcastic comment Kevin's way.
He picked up the investigator's report, glancing over the first page without reading it. He folded it, along with the note, and walked out the door, ready to face whatever was coming his way.
Viki and Kevin arrived at the hospital at the same time. She was overwhelmed at seeing Kevin's clothes, bloodied and rumpled, at seeing his pained eyes and face. Her mouth flew open, her hand reaching up to her face quickly. Viki's composure was momentarily lost as she faced the truth, which up until now was only speculation. She quickly hugged her eldest son closely, whispering raggedly, "Oh my God, Kevin." She pulled back, her eyes large with concern, "Are you okay?"
Kevin shook his head, "I don't know. I don't want to think about it – better check on him."
"Yes, yes . . . ," she said, unsure of who to throw herself at first, her son or Todd.
They stepped over to the check-in desk and didn't even have to ask. The nurse, familiar with the well-known face and consummate professionalism of Viki Carpenter, immediately told them Todd was still in surgery and did not anticipate his coming out of recovery any sooner than two hours. She then added, reassuringly, "He is alive. That's step no.1."
She looked at them like a school teacher would and Viki smiled, "Thank you." They then noticed Sam still sitting on the floor next to the door of Room 3, behind the nurse's counter.
Sam looked up at Viki and just shook his head, putting it back down. Sam, in his late forties with graying wavy hair and handsome rugged features, closed his eyes, "I am so sorry. I didn't ever in my wildest dreams think he was capable of . . . this."
Viki swallowed a lump in her throat, working to stay calm. Too many people counted on her strength to get through this. Too many people were concerned for her well- being considering her ever-valiant stance on the issue of Todd.
She offered an attempt at consolation, "Sam, none of us knew, or rather, none of us wanted to know. He was very determined." Kevin walked around to Sam and helped him up off the floor. The three of them headed to the surgical waiting room.
A couple of hours later, Todd lay on a bed in a recovery ward, just out of surgery. He was covered with heavy, plain cotton blankets up to his neck, intravenous tubes taped to the top of his hand. Still in the process of being admitted into Llanview Hospital, Todd hadn't been cleaned or robed yet having needed surgery so quickly. Other tubes and wires were coming out from underneath the blanket, monitoring his every function. Various fluids and medication drained into him in an attempt to restore his once healthy physicality. Evidence of his enacted plan could be seen on his skin, on his matted hair jumbled against the pillow. Dried blood.
And in the face of all that violence, he slept soundly. There was a sense of peacefulness.
A nurse assistant quietly stepped into the room with her soap, plastic container, towels and gown, ready to wash the Hospital's unfortunate patient. Although most of her red hair was swept back behind her head in a bun, several strands hung down along her cheek. She moved close to Todd and smiled sadly, leaning her head a little to the right to look at her patient, "Well, here I am, to help get you into a condition that's a little better than this. Ok? I'm going to wash your shoulders, chest, back and arms with a wet washcloth. I'll also rinse your hair and try to get those tangles out, ok?"
She went to the bathroom and filled her container with water and soap, bringing it back and laying it on the rolling table next to Todd's bed. She lowered the blankets and turned to soak a towel waiting for her. She wrung it and began washing Todd as carefully as she'd described. She rinsed the towel, the water in the container rosy from the blood. She turned Todd carefully to his side and washed his back, gently. She continued in this manner until he was clean.
Laying a mat beneath his head, she began the slow process of rinsing Todd's hair, hoping to get most of the blood out and loosen the tangles. She soon found she couldn't do much because he was starting to rouse and she didn't want to hurt him or disturb his peacefulness. As she ran her hands through his wet hair, trying to press the excess water out, she noticed Todd grimace and heard a low moan. She tried to comfort him, saying, "Its ok, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm just rinsing your hair." He quieted, but his face still reflected what looked like pain.
When the nurse finished her job, she decided not to put a gown on him so as not to bother him further. She gave him gentle encouragement and walked towards the door, taking one last glance at the illustrious patient. She thought that these might be the Hospital's last quiet moments before Todd's gruesome act hit the press in the morning.
Viki approached Todd who lay quietly, sleeping still. Her heart physically ached at the sight of him. She leaned in close, placing her hand on his head, and said, "Can you hear me? It's Viki."
His head jerked a little as she stood back up and she moved her hand to his shoulder, keeping her eyes downcast. "I'm so sorry I didn't stay with you," she said in a low tone. "I never should have walked out this afternoon. I should have fought you harder. I hope you'll forgive me."
Kevin looked on, thankful Viki was spared a memory of Todd's bloodied body in the emergency room … or at the Penthouse. He watched her comfort Todd, how she touched him. So far, she'd not lost herself to his pain - she was still here and still in control. Kevin hoped she would stay that way. Sam came up to him, finally asking what Kevin knew.
Taking a seat next to the bed while Kevin and Sam talked quietly, Viki studied Todd's features a while. She could still see the shadows beneath his eyes, could still see his thinness. Her eyes wandered down his neck, down his blanketed body. When she reached the spot where his arm closest to her would be, she lifted the side of the blanket to see the bandages, to see the damage. Without her knowledge, Dr. Wolek stood silently at the door.
As Viki lifted the blanket, tears welled at the bandaging. Shaking her head, about to cover him back up, she caught sight of several smallish, red shapes on the side of Todd's stomach. She furrowed her brows in perplexity and pushed the blanket further back, exposing more marks on his abdomen, a few reaching further down. Kevin and Sam stopped talking, concerned about what Viki was distressing over.
"The hell…?" she murmured.
Dr. Wolek slipped in next to Viki and held her shoulder as she turned to him, a questioning look on her face while still lifting the blanket slightly. Dr. Wolek looked back at her, knowing her question and said, "Self-mutilation."
"What?" Viki's voice was threadbare, her hand still holding the blanket. Eyes still on the wounds.
"The markings. Most likely, he did it himself. It's also called self-harm, self-injury. Some people cut themselves, over and over. Cutting."
"What did he use?"
"Cigarettes. About 20 burns on his chest, abdomen . . . and ... still more in the genital area. Directly. On his...flesh."
Viki dropped the blanket and started trembling, bringing her hands to her face, "Oh no. No, no..." Visibly upset.
The doctor had decided to make that last piece known, hoping to shock the family into telling secrets they might know about Manning. Normally, this would have been breaking rules. But Todd's health care proxy listed Viki and Kevin as responsible parties for health care decisions. He also knew Sam was his lawyer. So he was in the clear. Even if he wasn't though, he'd have still spoken out because Todd's life was at risk. Those secrets...might be the key to saving his life.
Kevin thought he would be sick, never having heard of such a thing in his life. He turned around and looked out the window into the black night.
Sam, standing at the door, sat down roughly on a chair that happened to be next to him. He knew of self-mutilation. The guilt grew about ten times.
Viki kept her face covered, a hand on Todd's covered belly.
Kevin then asked, "Why would he do that to himself? Who… does that?"
Dr. Wolek conjectured the best he could, "Sometimes people need to punish themselves for deeds they feel responsible for. Sometimes, there's a need to make themselves unappealing to potential abusers. Still, for others, they like the pain, or feel a release of tension. Whatever his reasons, this isn't something he's been doing for a long time. They're relatively new, perhaps only months old. I don't see any old scars. This tends to make me think that they are the result of some recent trauma or delusion, perhaps during psychotic episodes. It's really individual and hard to say on my end." He studied Viki a second, stepping closer to her. "Are you familiar with it," he asked.
She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Burns on genitalia… that's from sexual abuse. I can't… he's never said a thing about…"
The doctor looked at Kevin and Sam. "Do you know something his doctors don't? You need to share if you do. His life depends on it."
Kevin shook his head, "You got me, Doc. But what my mom said makes sense. Considering his crimes. A… sexual… sort. I'm surprised it's never been suggested before."
Sam stayed silent. But then quietly offered an undeniable truth… "Todd wouldn't tell… anyone… if something like that happened to him. Too much pride."
Dr. Wolek nodded, unsurprised that nobody revealed anything. "Well, we'll just have to ask him then." He avoided Sam. Something in his demeanor told Larry he knew more than he was saying. Hopefully he'd come clean, soon.
Viki moved her hand to Todd's upper arm, caressing him. Turned to Larry. "What can you tell us about his other injuries?"
"He cut veins and nicked arteries in both arms. His left arm had some muscle and tendon damage as well. He'll recover from these physical injuries with no lasting damage provided there's adequate physical therapy." Dr. Wolek explained the best he could considering the state of shock his listeners were in. "He nearly died because of the blood loss. Went into cardiac arrest once he arrived here."
Sam groaned, reminded of the incident, and Kevin sighed a quiet, "Oh hell."
Viki only listened, her lips pursed, controlling her emotions.
Dr. Wolek looked at Todd's medical file, flipping through some papers. "As soon as he wakes up, he'll be transferred to Llanview Psych. In fact . . . we just got an emergency order to have Todd placed under mandatory treatment. Signed by Judge Campbell. He'll need the time. This was… very serious."
At the sound of the name, Sam perked up, incredulous as to how an order for psychiatric treatment could get back so fast. Something was definitely up with that Judge, Sam speculated before diving back into his dark ruminations.
The group's quiet observation and discussion continued on. The Hospital moved along with its business, waiting for morning when it would be bombarded with reporters asking about the famed Todd Manning attempting suicide.
To be continued…..