Hank jumped when the alarm on his wife's respirator went off. He gasped in horror when Louisa began to convulse, arching off the bed in terrifying spasms. “My God! What's happening to her?!?”
“Wait outside!” barked a nurse, pushing him aside. “Sally, page Dr. Early!”
“Dr. Early, I.C.U, stat. Dr. Joe Early, I.C.U, stat!”
The convulsions stopped as suddenly as they had begun. By the time the neurosurgeon entered, the young woman's body had stilled, leaving no evidence of the crisis. Early frowned and snatched up her chart, frowning when he read the results of the last blood tests. “Potassium's was too low,” he muttered. “Sally, run another test and start a drip.” He went out to speak to the Captain, who was visible shaken by the incident. “Hank, what happened right before the convulsions started? Anything seem different to you?”
Stanley shook his head, his face white. “No, I was just holding her hand and talking to her a little. Wait, her eyes were moving, like she was dreaming or something. I didn't think it was unusual, since she told me experienced the same thing after she was struck with that baseball at the picnic.”
The neurosurgeon tapped a finger against his chin. “I remember,” he said. “I'm going to order an electroencephalogram to see what's going on. Why don't you go home and get some sleep? I'll call you if I find anything.”
Hank started to argue, but changed his mind at the last minute. “All right. I'll come back in the morning. Take good care of her, Doc.”
“You bet.” He watched as the Captain got into the elevator, then returned to his patient. “Come on, Louisa. This isn't doing any of us any good.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
**Louisa found herself lying on the ground, trying to catch her breath. “Whoa. What just happened?”
“Your body tried to call you back, young one,” answered a deep voice, speaking in Lakota. “Do not be alarmed; it is common in these situations.”
The young woman's eyes bulged when she saw the speaker's face. “ Grey Eagle ?!? Where's Papi ? He was just here a minute ago.”
The Native American man laughed, his face lighting up. “He has completed his role as your guide,” he smiled. “Now, it is my turn. Do you know where we are now, my friend?”
Louisa's nose detected the smell of burning sage, a herb considered to be holy among the Plains tribes. “In a tipi, I think,” she said. At that moment, the flap opened and a man entered the dwelling and bent over a form lying on a buffalo robe. “That's Long Feather,” she whispered raggedly. “I can't make out the other person. Who is it?”
Grey Eagle chuckled softly. “Look closely,” he instructed. “You know him. You removed a bullet from his shoulder once.”
She moaned faintly, remembering. “Spotted Horse. He was shot when the village was attacked. We were traveling to the winter camp when the wound festered. Johnny helped me treat him.” She watched avidly as the scene replayed itself before her stunned eyes. “How does this tie in with the other visions?”
The elderly Lakota grinned, but didn't answer. He stared at her expectantly, waiting patiently for Louisa to figure it out on her own.
“I saved his life, just like I did with Marco,” she deduced. “Okay, I'm starting to see a pattern here. What's next? A vision of me killing Tom Parker?” she joked morbidly.
“Not quite,” snickered Grey Eagle. The landscape changed, revealing a busy ranch. A man emerged from the barn, leading a haltered mare. He went into the corral and began to work, humming softly. Without warning, the horse reared up, striking the man's chest with her front hooves. He fell to the ground, blood soaking his shirt.
“That's Buck,” commented Louisa. “I was visiting the Johnson's and injured my ankle. Buck was training Fancy and she freaked out on him. He ended up with a couple broken ribs and a bruised ego,” she giggled. “When Dorothy saw me out by the corral, she chewed me out for taking the chance of doing more damage to my foot. But, Buck's injuries weren't serious!” she protested. “He would have been all right even if I hadn't done anything.”
“That's not the point, Louisa,” replied the Lakota man. “You cared for him when he was hurt. You paid no attention to your own pain, thinking only of your friend.”
The young woman bit her lip, her eyes thoughtful. “I have to know something,” she said. “Am I being shown these things because I'm going to die? Is that why I'm reliving parts of my past? Is it some kind of judgment?”
“I don't have the answer to that, young one. I am only a guide who has no knowledge of your fate. If it is your time, you will join the others in Paradise .”
Louisa rolled her eyes in exasperation. “How did I know you were going to say that? Whoever is making me go through this has a really warped sense of humor. I feel like I walked into the middle of an episode of the Twilight Zone.”
Grey Eagle cocked his head as if listening to a voice only he could hear. He moved forward and drew Louisa into a warm embrace. “I must leave you now, my friend. The next part of your journey will be the hardest. Remember what you have been shown and use it to help you through. We will see each other again, little one. I promise you that.” He turned and walked away, turning at the last second to wave, then vanishing into the mist.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hank looked up when the cab pulled into his driveway and stopped. He paid off the driver and got out, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The front door burst open and Strong Bear, Long Feather, and Johnny came outside, all talking at once. The Captain smiled ruefully, raising a hand for quiet. “One at a time!” he said. “What are you guys going on about?”
Strong Bear spoke first. “We have come up with a way to help Moon Flower,” he said, waiting for Stanley 's reaction. “I believe Long Feather can heal her in a way your modern doctors cannot.”
“Cap, since it's not safe for him to leave the ranch, Long Feather has agreed to teach me the ancient words used by our people for generations,” added Gage. “It may sound like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to you, but I've seen first hand that it works. Will you at least let me try?”
The medicine man stared at the Captain, instinctively aware that Louisa's condition had worsened. “I can see in your face that something is wrong,” he whispered. “Tell me.”
Captain Stanley nodded and dropped into a chair. “Lou went into convulsions while I was sitting with her,” he murmured faintly. “Doctor Early didn't give me much detail, but I could tell he doesn't think she's going to make it. He was ordering some kind of test when I left.” He looked up, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “It's happening again, John, and there's not a damn thing I can do to stop it!” He broke down, his chest heaving.
The paramedic blanched. At Strong Bear's questioning look, he said, “Cap's first wife died in a car accident a couple months before Louisa came to visit her family.” He covered his eyes for a moment to compose himself. “I'm not giving up, not while there's still a chance! I think we should go ahead with the ceremony.”
Long Feather laid a gentle hand on Hank's shoulder, offering his support. “Will you let us try, Captain? I cannot guarantee success, but while Moon Flower is still alive, there is always hope.”
Hank stared into the medicine man's face, his eyes pleading. “What kind of ceremony?” he asked. After Long Feather had explained, he smiled. “ If Dr . Early agrees, you have my permission. I'm ready to try anything about now.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Say that again, Johnny!” exclaimed Joe. “You want to perform a what ?!?”
“It's a Lakota healing ceremony, Doc,” replied the paramedic. “Cap gave us his permission, as long as you agree. Don't worry; it won't hurt her, but it could do a world of good.”
The neurosurgeon pursed his lips as he thought it over. “Lord knows Louisa needs all the help she can get,” he admitted. “Just tell me what you'll need and I'll get it for you.”
Johnny breathed a sigh of relief and grinned. “We've got everything, but thanks for the offer. The only problem is no one else but me and Louisa can be in the room during the ceremony. Can you arrange that?”
Dr. Early chuckled. “I think I can manage it, John. But I want to examine her first. When would you like to do this?”
“As soon as possible. Cap thinks history is repeating itself. If Lou doesn't make it, you might as well start planning his funeral, because it will kill him if he loses another wife.”
“I'll set it up for tomorrow morning. How does that sound? You'll have complete privacy. You have my word on that.”
“I'll be there, Doc, and thanks a million. I owe you one.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Next Morning
The low hum of conversation stopped when Johnny walked through the ER dressed in full Lakota regalia. In his hand, he carried a small buckskin bag filled with the herbs he needed. The paramedic ignored the curious stares as he passed, going over the ceremony in his head. “Hi, Dix,” he grinned, leaning against the nurse's station. “Is Dr. Early around?”
The head nurse gaped at him, unused to seeing him dressed in buckskin and beads. “Uh, yeah,” she answered after a minute. “He's waiting for you in the I.C.U. What's going on?”
“A little magic,” replied Gage mysteriously. “I just hope it works. See you later.”
“Right,” murmured Dixie , watching as he got into the elevator. She glanced up when Dr. Mike Morton tapped her on the shoulder.
“Was that John Gage I just saw?” he asked curiously. “Am I seeing things or is he dressed like an Indian?”
“If you are, we both need to have our eyes examined,” joked the nurse.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The paramedic stepped off the elevator and paused just inside the Intensive Care Unit door. Sally, the nurse on duty, did a double take when she spotted him. “Wow, Johnny,” she breathed. “You look great. Dr. Early's waiting for you. He told me what you're planning to do. Good luck; I hope it works.”
Gage smiled broadly. “That makes two of us,” he replied. “How's she doing this morning?” he asked, hooking a thumb towards Louisa.
“No significant change,” she answered sadly. “I heard the Police Department is conducting an investigation to find out why no one searched that kid before he was brought here. I hope they find whoever is responsible and hang him up by his ears! This should never have happened!”
“McConikee has been riding Captain Flanagan pretty hard,” Johnny told her. “If he gets his way, the guy will lose his badge and be brought up on charges.”
Sally sniffed angrily, her cheeks flushing. “That's nothing compared to what I'd do to him! I haven't worked with Louisa that much, but I really like her. So does everyone else. She's quite a lady.”
The paramedic grinned. “No argument here. Morning, Doc,” he said when Early joined them. “Is everything ready?”
“Hi, John,” answered the silver-haired neurosurgeon. “She's all yours. Let me know if there's anything I can do. How long will this take?”
“About an hour,” said Gage. “I'll be burning some herbs, so don't be alarmed if you smell smoke. It's all part of the ceremony.” He squared his shoulders and pushed open the door. “Here goes nothing.”
Louisa lay motionless in her bed, unaware of what was going on around her. She didn't react when John began to chant the words Long Feather had taught him, his voice rising and falling rhythmically. He reached into the bag he carried and removed a small wooden bowl and a bundle of sage. The paramedic lit the herb, waving the smoke over the young woman's still form. A pungent aroma filled the small room as Gage resumed his chant. He spun around when the cardiac monitor's monotonous blip faltered, then picked up speed. “That's it, Lou,” he whispered. “Come back to us.” He pulled a bone-handled rattle from the bag and shook it in time with his shuffling feet. He spoke the ancient words, calling upon the Spirits to aid him in his task.
**“What in heck is he doing?” Louisa said to herself as she looked down on the room from above. She listened closely, a smile lighting up her face when she smelled the burning sage. “Oh, I get it! It's a Lakota Healing Ceremony!” She closed her eyes and hummed in time with the chant. She gasped when an odd, floating sensation filled her, the hospital room disappearing in a cloud of smoke. “Here we go again,” muttered the young woman. “Wonder where I'm going this time?”
“Open your eyes and see for yourself, darling,” answered a deep voice.
Louisa turned slowly, a scream rising in her throat when a figure emerged from the shadows. “Tom Parker,” she said. “If I'm seeing you , I must be in Hell. Where else would a low-life like you end up?” she spat sarcastically.
An evil red glow filled the space, revealing a massive cavern. “I wouldn't act all high and mighty if I was you, sweetheart,” laughed Parker. “After all the bad things you've done in your life, you might find yourself spending Eternity with me. Now, wouldn't that be fun?”
The young woman snickered. “Sure it would,” she jeered. “Is your brother here, too, or wasn't he rotten enough?”
“Nah, Jason was too much of a goody-two-shoes,” replied Tom. “Come on, babe. I've got something to show you.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her along a narrow passageway.
“And what might that be? Hitler and Jack the Ripper playing hopscotch? Too bad I didn't think to bring a camera with me,” snorted Louisa. “It would definitely be a Kodak moment.”
Parker stopped in front of a plate-glass window and pointed. “Take a good, long look, bitch,” he grinned. “I think you'll change your tune after you see this.”
The young woman squinted as the scene came into focus. A cluster of men dressed in fireman's turn-out coats huddled together, the room burning around them. Her jaw dropped when the names stenciled on the back of the jackets became clear. Tears poured down her face as the flames engulfed her husband and his crew, the stench of charred flesh and scorched cloth making her gag. Vomit rose in her throat and she turned away, choking and coughing. The vision disappeared in a blinding flash of light. Louisa dropped to her knees, wailing with grief. She grunted when a foot struck her ribs with bone-snapping force.
“Knock it off,” growled Tom furiously. “It wasn't real; at least, right now it's not.”
“You son-of-a-bitch!” shrieked the young woman, staggering to her feet and launching herself at the man. She shoved him backwards against the window, shattering it and sending shards of glass flying in all directions. “I did the world a favor when I killed you! I'm just sorry I didn't do it sooner!”
“Temper, temper, my sweet,” cackled Tom, shaking a finger at her. “It always gets you into trouble. Better be careful or all those good deeds you've done will be erased.”
“I hate you,” panted Louisa, her eyes blazing. “You belong here with the rest of the scum. Maybe Satan will let you be his errand boy. God knows you're not good for anything else.”
“Gee, babe, thanks for the compliment. If you're extra nice to me, I can make things easy for you down here, if you catch my drift,” snickered Parker with a leer.
“I'd rather be eaten alive by cannibals,” she retorted hotly. “If I had a choice between being with you and killing myself, I wouldn't hesitate to slit my own throat. It's not like you were even that good in bed,” she said mockingly. “I faked every time we slept together. I thank my lucky stars I never married your sorry ass. I would have had to go out and find a real man to satisfy me.”
“You're still the same little bitch you always were,” hissed Tom. “It's a wonder your husband can put up with you.”
“You're just jealous that I found someone to spend the rest of my life with,” needled Louisa. “It burns you up that I got the best of you.”
“Maybe so, but you'll have to atone for your sins eventually. When that time comes, I'll be in the front row, watching you suffer.” He snapped his fingers and disappeared in a puff of foul-smelling smoke.
The young woman breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I could have done without seeing that jerk again,” she muttered to herself. “Now how do I get out of here?” She looked around for an exit without much luck. “Oh well, I guess I'll have to stay for a while.”
“Where you going, little girl?” questioned a voice. “Come on over and join the party!”
Louisa uttered a startled cry when a cold hand grabbed her arm. She recoiled instinctively, pressing her back against the rocky wall. “Back off, pal,” she hissed to the man standing in front of her. “I'm not interested.”
The man threw his head back and howled. “What's the matter, honey?” he grinned. “You got something against testing the doors of perception? Or are you one of those uptight chicks?” He moved forward and stared directly into her eyes.
Louisa gasped when she recognized him. “No way. This is not happening!”
“Sure it is, babe,” said the Lizard King himself, Jim Morrison. “Jimi and Janis are here, too. We were always your favorites, don't you remember? Come hang with us for a while. This place isn't as bad as it seems.”
Seeing that she had no choice, she followed him into a large room. A chorus of voices greeted her, inviting her to have a seat. Louisa smiled nervously and sat down beside another dead rock star, Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones. The British blonde guitarist handed her a glass of red wine and struck up a conversation. “Your first visit here, love?” he asked. “That's all right. A pretty bird like you is always welcome.” He accepted a joint from Jimi and took a deep drag. He passed it to the young woman with an encouraging smile. She reached for it and inhaled, the pungent smoke making her head swim. “I guess I'm not used to it anymore,” she chuckled apologetically. She raised her glass and sipped, holding the liquid in her mouth for a minute, then swallowing. She quickly drank the rest of the wine, her cheeks flushing when the alcohol took effect.
Janis Joplin watched the young woman intently for a long time. Finally, she got up and ambled over. “Mind if I join y'all?” she questioned in her raspy Texas drawl.
“What ever turns you on,” giggled Louisa foolishly, the marijuana making her feel giddy. “I have to tell ya, honey, I really admire you,” she gushed. “You were the reason I got into the business in the first place. My band never went nowhere, but we had fun while it lasted.”
The singer cackled. “That's all that counts,” she answered. “I was in the crowd when y'all played your reunion gig. You did real good, honey. Made my song sound great.”
The young woman's jaw dropped. “You were ?” she squeaked. “My voice sucked that night. I was so nervous, I thought I was gonna puke!”
“Happens to the best of us,” put in Jimi Hendrix, toying with the fringe on his Nehru jacket. “You got talent. If had stuck with the music, you and your band would have been huge. That dude you got playing guitar, Paul something, has great chops.”
“I'll be sure to tell him you said, if I ever get back home. He practically worships you.”
Over on the other side of room, speakers concealed in the walls crackled to life, playing Jimi's version of the old Bob Dylan song, All Along the Watchtower . Without thinking, Louisa began to sing along with the tune. Jim Morrison joined in, a broad smile on his face. When the song ended, the assembled crowd clapped and cheered. The young woman's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as she bowed, a giggle bubbling up in her throat. “Thanks for your welcome assistance, Mr. Morrison,” she joked.
The singer raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes twinkling with good humor. “Anytime, sweetheart,” he replied. “I wish we could jam some more, but it's time for you to leave. Take care of yourself and those kids of yours.” He stepped back as the speakers played one of his old hits. “ Break on Through , babe,” he grinned.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rampart Hospital
Johnny let his voice drift into silence as he uttered the last words of the chant, a surge of disappointment washing over him when Louisa failed to respond. “It's up to you and the Spirits now,” he whispered, bending to plant a kiss his on friend's forehead. He walked to the door, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
Dr. Early pushed away from the wall, his eyes full of questions. When the paramedic shook his head, the neurosurgeon sighed heavily. “I'm sure did your best, John,” he said quietly. “All we can do now is wait and pray Louisa is strong enough to beat this.”
Sally bent her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. She squeezed Gage's hand sympathetically and went into the I.C.U. She paused beside the young woman's bed, desperately looking for any positive sign. When she didn't find what she was searching for, Sally returned to her station, wiping her face with a tissue.
“I better go break the news to Cap,” murmured Johnny, his dark eyes sad. “Are you sure there's nothing else we can try, Doc? Some new treatment or something?” he asked hopefully.
“I'm afraid not,” answered Joe. “If there was, I would tried it already.” He paused when the elevator at the end of the hall opened. Dr. Sunderland stepped out, his face lined with fatigue. He greeted them with a nod and cleared his throat. “Did you get a response, Mr. Gage?” he asked”
“Not even a twitch,” replied the paramedic. “Excuse me; I want to get cleaned up. Bye, Doc.” He walked away, his footsteps dragging.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Stanley Ranch, One Hour Later
Hank's face fell when Johnny reported his failure. “I'm really sorry, Cap,” whispered Gage.
“It's not your fault, John,” answered the Captain. “I appreciate what you did. We'll just have to be patient and pray she covers.” He choked back a cry and left the house, heading straight for the barn. Once inside, he opened Samson's stall door and leaned against the gelding's warm flank. His self-control broke and he wept, his chest heaving painfully as sobbed. The horse nickered softly and nuzzled Hank's shoulder. Saffron poked her head over the adjoining wall and pricked her ears. “We were supposed to be together until death do us part, honey. I've already lost Sarah; I can't lose you, too. How will I ever tell the kids that you're not going to come back to us? Damn it, it's just not fair! What did I do to deserve this?!?”
From his perch in the loft, Strong Bear listened as the Captain raged. Not wanting to disturb his friend, he lay down in the hay and prayed silently. A feeling of peace washed over the Lakota warrior and he closed his eyes. “Thank you, Spirits,” he mouthed.
It was almost dark by the time Hank was composed enough to go back to the house. He heard Maria rattling pots and pans as she prepared the evening meal. The smell of cooking food made his stomach churn and he quickened his pace, running up the stairs to his bedroom. He threw himself down on the bed he shared with his wife and hugged her pillow to his chest. A faint trace of her perfume clung to the fabric and he inhaled deeply, the scent calming his frazzled nerves. When Long Feather pushed open the door to call him for supper, Captain Stanley was sound asleep, still holding the pillow. The medicine man smiled, relieved that Hank was finally getting some much-needed rest. He started to back out of the room, but a flash of movement in the corner caught his attention. A sudden chill made him shiver, his eyes widening when the bedroom curtains stirred as if a puff of wind had passed through the room. “Both windows are closed,” he whispered. “Where did that breeze come from?” He shuddered when he thought he heard a soft voice coming from the corner. His eyes bulged when the Captain's hair lifted from his forehead, as if brushed aside by an unseen hand.
**I know you can't hear me, honey, but I'm here,” said Louisa, her hand brushing a lock of hair from her husband's forehead. The Captain stirred, groaning in his sleep. “It's all right; you just rest. Lords knows you need to.”
“Hank never did get enough sleep,” commented a lilting voice. “Some nights I wanted to slip him a tranquilizer so he would get enough rest.”
The young woman gasped in surprise. “I didn't know anyone else was here,” she laughed nervously. She gazed at the woman, thinking she looked very familiar. “Have we met?” she asked. “I know you from someplace, but I can't put my finger on it.”
The other woman smiled brightly. “No, dear, we've never met, but you have seen my picture. I'm Sarah Stanley, Hank's first wife.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Louisa, extending a hand. “Pleased to meet you,” she said awkwardly. “You're not mad that I married your husband, are you?”
“On the contrary,” answered Sarah. “I'm happy that Hank found someone to spend his life with. If he hadn't, I'm afraid his future would have been very short.”
“What do you mean? Short how?”
“Let me show you.” The woman took her arm and snapped her fingers. Mist swirled around them, blocking out the scene before them. Gradually, the fog parted, revealing a small, dingy apartment. Empty beer cans and grease-stained pizza boxes littered the room. Cockroaches and rats scurried over the dirty kitchen floor, searching for food. Louisa's nose wrinkled in disgust as she detected the nauseating smell of rotting garbage. “Whoever lives here isn't much of a housekeeper,” she said. “This place is an absolute disgrace.” She watched as a tall, dark-haired man staggered in from the living room, his hair matted into greasy tangles. A heavy growth of beard covered his gaunt cheeks. The man wore nothing but a pair of ragged blue jeans, his body reeking as if he hadn't bathed in weeks. The odor of stale alcohol seeped from his skin. The young woman pinched her nostrils shut and breathed through her mouth. “What a slob! I've seen pigs that were cleaner!”
The man yanked open the refrigerator door and pulled out a six-pack of beer. He sat down at the table and began to drink, throwing the cans aside as he drained each one. He cursed when the phone rang. “What do you want?!?” he barked into the receiver. “I told you to mind your own business, McConikee!” he shouted. “I don't give a damn what you think! I'm not gonna change my mind about quitting the Department, don't you get that?!? Let somebody else run 51's! I just don't care anymore!” He slammed down the phone and tore it from the wall. “Let's see you call me now, you old bastard,” he muttered. Ignoring the half-finished six-pack, he stumbled back to the living room and reached into the liquor cabinet for a bottle of whiskey. He unscrewed the cap and took several swallows, draining the last of the amber fluid inside. “Damn, cupboard's bare. Guess I better go get some more.” He pulled on a filthy shirt and staggered out the door to his car.
Louisa watched him go, then wandered around the living room. She gasped harshly when she saw the picture resting on the mantle. “Oh my God!” she whispered, pale with shock. “That man! It's Hank! What the Hell happened to him?” she questioned, tears welling up in her eyes.
“After I died, he lost all reason to live,” replied Sarah quietly. “He started drinking. No one really noticed until he started coming to work hung-over. A few weeks ago, Hank and his crew were at a warehouse fire. He sent them in to assist and there was an explosion. One man was killed and three others seriously injured. Even though it wasn't his fault, Hank felt responsible and resigned. After that, his drinking escalated.”
The young woman bit her lip. “Was the man who died one of Hank's men?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
“Yes, dear, he was. His name was Marco Lopez. Hank didn't even attend the funeral. Instead, he put our house up for sale and moved into this place.”
Louisa moaned softly. “Oh God!” Her eyes bulged when she remembered the Captain's drunken state. “If he gets behind the wheel in his condition, he'll kill himself! You've got to stop him!”
Sarah shook her head. “There's nothing I can do, Louisa,” she replied. “I brought you here to show you what may have happened if you hadn't met and married him. But, this isn't how his life will end. No, his death is much more tragic.” She paused, waiting for Louisa to respond.
The young woman looked away, her gaze settling on the handgun resting on the coffee table. A box of bullets lay on its side, the brass cartridges gleaming in a ray of sunshine. All it once it hit her. “Suicide,” she whispered, her voice raw. “The coward's way out.”
“Exactly. You see, Hank doesn't think he has anything to live for. No family, no children, nothing. He feels like he's all alone in the world.”
“But, he's not !” argued Louisa stubbornly. “He has the entire Department to lean on! How can he even think that?!?”
“He doesn't see it that way. He believes that the others blame him for Marco's death.”
“But it wasn't his fault!” growled the young woman furiously. “How can they believe that?!? Hank would never put one of his men in danger on purpose!”
Sarah smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I know that and you know that, but right now, Hank doesn't,” she answered.
Louisa stared at her helplessly, unsure what to do. Before she could react, Hank stumbled through the front door and collapsed on the threadbare sofa. “Thank God,” she whispered in relief. “Stay right there, big guy.” The Captain looked up as if he had heard her speak, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Can he hear us?” she asked Sarah.
“Maybe. It depends on a lot of things. But we don't have time to debate, dear. It's time for you to go back.” She raised a hand and the filthy room disappeared. “Just remember one thing, Louisa. Everything you do has consequences. Even the smallest decision you make can change your fate, even if it seems unimportant at the time.” She stepped forward and squeezed the young woman's hands. “I've very happy that you and Hank found each other. Goodbye, dear.”
“Goodbye, Sarah, and thank you,” replied Louisa. She sighed in resignation as the wind swirled around her yet again. “Wonder where I'll end up this time?” she said to herself.