Page 19 of Resurrect Me

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s just. Well…I really like you. I’ve always liked you, but I could never do anything about it. You were Sol’s woman, and Sol was my best friend.”

I’m searching for the right thing to say. My mouth remains open with no words.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Maybe you will one day,” he suggests.

I nearly laugh. The nerve and arrogance of this guy. Then a thought hits me. It’s him. He’s the stalker. It’s got to be him. I can’t believe I took my fucking clothes off for him. I rubbed my pussy in front of him. Wait, no. Declan isn’t a stocky guy. The silhouette doesn’t match Declan’s physique…unless it was just hard to tell in the dark?

“Anyway. I heard your concern about Duselizab and filed a report with the bureau. They’ll have to at least investigate the deaths at the hospital.”

“Oh my God, thank you Declan,” I sigh. Maybe he isn’t so bad. Maybe the old Declan is still in there…somewhere behind the flashy clothes and Rolex watch. “We nearly lost another patient. And guess what she was taking?”

A sigh and then he answers, “Duselizab. I get it. But why do you think this is the cause? There are so many other factors behind a person’s death. Weight, diet, activity, genetics, other medications, co-morbidities.”

“Obviously I know that. But these patients, including my last patient who nearly died and is currently in the ICU, took Duselizab and started experiencing neurological symptoms. Tremors, dizziness, eyesight wobbles, things like that. Then they all end up with internal hemorrhage and bleed out inside of themselves. My recent patient is lucky she didn’t die. Well…she did briefly, but we were able to bring her back.”

A pause as Declan takes in what I’m saying.

“All of them show internal bleeding?”

“Yes, twenty-three patients this year.”

“Okay. Like I said. They’re looking into it.”

“So, they’ll pull it off the market until more testing has been done?”

Silence.

“Dee?”

“I didn’t say that. I don’t have control over medications being pulled.”

“Jesus Christ,” I grumble. “This is urgent, Declan. I’m truly worried I’m going to lose more of my patients.”

“I hear you, Tace. I’ve done my part. It’s out of my hands now,” he says. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something. Okay?”

I set my keys on the counter and take a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you. Really.”

We hang up, and I know exactly how I’ll use my vacation time this week. Investigating.

Chapter 13

Tacy

My routine this week is as follows: wake up, coffee, get the kids ready for school, more coffee, hug the kids goodbye, drop them off, come home and research until my fingers bleed and my eyes water. With more coffee. Copious amounts of coffee. I’ve taken it upon myself to research this drug that Declan has been so readily promoting. The same drug that my patients have taken.

I discovered a few things: one, that Duselizab was created by Richardson and Company, which is apparently one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the country and in the world. Two, that Duselizab was only tested on rats in two controlled studies before being approved by the FDA and going to market. And three, that a class action lawsuit is being filed against Richardson and Company due to the side effects of Duselizab. At least a hundred women across the country claim they miscarried after being prescribed the medicine by their OB-GYNs for various medical conditions. Of course, they were told the drug was totally safe for them and their unborn babies. But I need to know more. I need to cross-examine the patients’ files from the hospital with other deaths to see if the symptoms match. The only problem is, I’m not a detective and snooping into patients’ files is considered breaking the law – breaking HIPAA. Which could get me fired and my nursing license stripped away.

I’m sitting at my computer in the office devising a plan on accessing classified records, when the power goes out.

“What the Hell?” It’s not storming, and I haven’t seen any power trucks in the area. I check my phone. It’s 10:32 am. Icall the power company to report the outage. A robotic machine says they’re already aware of the outage and they’re working on it. With an ETA of three hours. I exhale loudly and stand up, when I hear the alarm module chirping. The outage must have tripped it. I walk down the hallway, when a rustling noise emanates from the kitchen, and I freeze. Someone’s in the house. I debate on turning around and grabbing the gun out of the safe, but my fight-flight-fright response has me momentarily paralyzed. Maybe if I don’t move or breathe, they’ll go away? Who the fuck am I kidding? They broke into my house, knowing there’s cameras all around. It’s the intruder…he’s back to find something else. He probably thinks I’m at work. But my car’s in the driveway. FUCK. He knows I’m here!

I am slowly turning to run down the hallway when someone in all black bursts through the kitchen and makes a mad dash towards me. I scream and take off running. I have to get to the safe. But before I make it halfway, the stranger overtakes me, and we crash to the floor. I scream as the intruder pushes me into the carpet and covers my mouth with his hand. His belt buckle digs into the small of my back.

He presses his mouth against my ear and grunts, “don’t fucking move, bitch.” I can smell bleach and cigarettes radiating from his pores. The combination makes me gag.

I struggle, wriggle, writhe underneath him. Kicking upwards and flailing, trying everything I can to get away. But he’s got all his weight on me and produces a zip tie from his pocket which he uses to fasten my hands behind my back. He’s kneeling on the back of my legs and yelling at me to shut the fuck up.

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