The Remedy (32 page)

A tube sticking out from a bandage on her wrist ran upward to a bag of clear liquid suspended above her. Leigh shifted her gaze from the IV trail to a man wearing a white doctor’s coat standing at the door, peeking out into the hallway.

“Hello?” Leigh’s voice was weak. She couldn’t believe how much strength it took to mutter a single word.

The doctor turned from the door and shut it, smiling.

“Ms. Swanson,” he said in a tranquil tone. “I am so pleased to have you back with us.”

The doctor walked over to the side of her bed, his shoes sounding an impressive
clomp
with every step. Though her vision was blurred, Leigh could make out his dark hair and a slight five-o’clock shadow. He was much younger than she expected.

“Where am I?” she said, attempting to sit up. But she gave up her struggle as every muscle in her back began to throb with an ache that reverberated down to her legs.

“Please relax, Ms. Swanson.” The doctor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’re in Saint Andrews hospital on the outskirts of Embry, Vermont. You were transported to this facility immediately after you were found.”

“Found?”

The doctor looked up to examine the bag of intravenous fluids connected to Leigh, but something in his uncomfortable stature suggested he was purposely avoiding eye contact. “Yes, miss. I’m sorry to say you were a victim of a physical assault.” He tapped the bag and watched the liquid drip down. “Things might be a little hazy at the moment, but your memory will start to clear up as you get your bearings.”

Leigh clenched the sheets in her fists, turning her knuckles a bloodless white as memories began to tear down the door of her consciousness.

The chase through the woods.

The snare trap.

The man with the rifle.

“I…” she began to say, stopping to swallow through her dry throat. “I remember. Someone saved me.”

The doctor nodded. “That would be Jacob Spire, a ranger with the Forest Service. Apparently, his department found a note requesting immediate assistance in the area you were found.”

The note. The one Rob wrote to lure poor Douglas Graham to the chopping block. To replace the one Sam had written.

“Sam…” Leigh whispered.

The doctor adjusted the collars of his coat. “Excuse me?”

“Where’s Sam? Is he okay?”

Staring at her, eyebrows bent with confusion, the doctor opened his mouth to answer but then hesitated, as if searching for the right words. Finally, he said, “I’m afraid I’m not sure exactly who you’re talking about. With the exception of your assailant, whom Mr. Spire was forced to take down, you were found alone.”

He made his way to the foot of her bed, where her chart sat in a plastic sleeve. As he walked away, Leigh heard him mutter loud enough for her to hear, “Although the police did discover the…remains…of bodies found in a nearby cabin home. I gather there was quite an explosion.”

Tears wanted to leak from Leigh’s eyes; she could feel them begging for release. But there was an overwhelming numbness overtaking her that prevented her from releasing a single drop. It may have been the painkillers pumping through her circulatory system, but all she could do in response to Sam’s demise was mumble, “No. No. No.”

Whether he didn’t hear her or was just pretending not to, the doctor plucked her chart from its sleeve and said, “That’s all I know. But there are police officers in the lobby who can tell you more. In fact, they’re very eager to speak with you. But I made it clear to them that I wouldn’t have anyone bothering you until you felt you were up to it. So please take your time. They can wait.”

Leigh could hardly hear what he was saying. At best, she caught every other word. Flashes from her horrible nightmare were returning to distract her. The trees surrounding her room, their branches scraping the window.

I’m still in the woods
.

“They’re all dead.”

The doctor cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, the good news,” he said, “is that in spite of everything you’ve been through, you suffered very little physical harm. With the exception of a few contusions on the head and a variety of light lacerations…”

He pointed to a bandage on Leigh’s arm that she hadn’t noticed yet. The gauze was wrapped tightly around her bicep, but she could feel no wound beneath it.

“You should be feeling better in no time. All you need is a little rest. But in the meantime—”

He strolled to a small table near the window. Upon it sat a covered tray, which the doctor retrieved and brought to her side. He placed it on her lap, using latches along the bed to lock it in place.

The doctor lifted the tray’s lid and revealed a steaming plate of pot roast. Carrots, celery, green beans, and grilled onions came together with gravy and bits of steak to form an appetizing medley, accompanied by a side of homestyle mashed potatoes.

“I know you probably don’t feel like eating,” the doctor said, placing the lid to the side. “But your strength will return much faster if you can eat at least a little something. You’re in good enough condition that an IV isn’t necessary anymore.”

Leigh looked down to the plate of hot food. The steam from the meat and vegetables wafted into her nostrils. Though the doctor was correct in assuming she wasn’t in the mood to eat, her physical needs spoke louder than the troubled state of her mind. She hadn’t eaten anything in more than twenty-four hours, and the intravenous fluids dripping into her bloodstream weren’t stifling her appetite in the slightest.

Still, she couldn’t look at the meat without seeing Dale Preston being fed the freshly harvested flesh of Douglas Graham. Leigh knew right then and there that she’d be a vegetarian for life.

“I suppose I could try to keep down a few bites of the potatoes,” she said, reaching for the fork.

The doctor folded his arms. “Like I said, even a little will help. You can save the rest for later. But how about something to drink? I bet you’re thirsty.”

The thought of refreshment for her parched throat brought a smile to Leigh. “Yes, please,” she said, blowing on the mound of potatoes on her fork to cool them off. “That would be nice.”

A pitcher and a plastic cup stood next to each other on the table where the tray had been retrieved. The doctor reached for them and poured Leigh a glass of dark, purple liquid.

“It appears we have grape juice,” he said, topping off the glass. “I can get you something else if you’d like.”

Leigh shook her head. “No, grape juice is fine. Thank you very much, Doctor…?” It occurred to her that she didn’t know her physician’s name.

The man handed her the glass of juice and smiled. “Benson,” he said. “Dr. Benson.”

She accepted the cup and brought it to her lips. Though the juice was far from ice cold, it relieved her dry mouth and throat. She could hardly taste the fluid as she gulped down almost the entire glass, concentrating on the feeling of replenishment it brought her.

The doctor extended his hand to retrieve the empty cup. “That good, huh? Here, let me get you a refill, and then I need to check on another patient.”

A moment later, Leigh had another full glass.

“If there’s anything else you need,” he said, heading for the door, “please don’t hesitate to call for a nurse.”

Through a mouthful of potatoes, Leigh said, “Thank you, Dr. Benson. I appreciate it.”

Before he disappeared, Dr. Benson looked back one last time. “Don’t worry, Ms. Swanson. You’ll be all right.”

And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Now alone, Leigh placed her fork down on her plate. The food and Dr. Benson had momentarily distracted her, but now that she was by herself in the uncomfortably sterile hospital room, the floodgates of her memories opened up.

Her grief bounced from one of her fallen friends to another. Alex’s carefree character. Marshall’s laidback attitude. Eliza’s strong spirit.

Sam’s warm embrace.

They were all gone.

Somehow, she alone had survived. It didn’t seem right. She didn’t deserve to live anymore than her friends did—their demise was unjust without question. The numb distance from reality she was experiencing was the only thing preventing a total breakdown. It was a welcome force field to repel a barrage of pain and remorse.

But as she reached again for her fork, she found her fingers couldn’t grasp it. Her whole body trembled and her hands shook as if she was having a seizure. She began to hyperventilate.

Perhaps the force field wasn’t as strong as she’d thought.

Leigh would’ve surely screamed if the door to her room hadn’t reopened just then. A heavyset woman with curly red hair entered, wearing nurse’s scrubs and a cheery grin.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she said, walking the quick pace of someone who was overcaffeinated. “I’m Nurse Vicky. How are you feeling?”

Leigh took her first deep breath in several seconds. “Not bad,” she answered. “All things considered.”

Nurse Vicky paced over to remove the IV, and paused when she saw the tray on Leigh’s lap. “Where’d you find that?” she asked with a puzzled smile.

Leigh looked down at the food. “Dr. Benson gave it to me. He left just a couple minutes ago.”

Nurse Vicky’s brow furrowed even more. “Doctor who?”

Leigh hesitated before answering. Did she get his name wrong? No, she didn’t think so. “Benson,” she said, speaking the name as clearly as she could.

The nurse tilted her head toward the ceiling, as if her memory were hiding somewhere up there. After a moment, she jolted with a twitch of comprehension. “Oh, Benton! You must mean Dr. Benton. I’m sorry, I’m working my way through the second half of a double. Your doctor is Willard Benton, I remember now.”

Leigh searched her mind again. It was plausible that in her groggy state she’d misheard the doctor’s name. She had to be more out of it than she’d initially assumed.

She pointed at the plate of food. “Am I not supposed to have this?”

The nurse shrugged. “I would’ve thought it was too early to offer you solid foods, but if Dr. Benton gave it to you, then he must have thought it was fine.”

Vicky snagged a pair of gloves from a box resting on top of the heart monitor. “Now, if you’ll stay still for just a second,” she said, snapping the latex around her wrists, “I want to take a quick peek at you.”

With professional gentleness, she lifted the bandage covering Leigh’s bicep and leaned in for a better look.

Vicky’s comforting smile vanished.

“That’s…” The nurse struggled to find the right words to finish her sentence. “Odd.”

It wasn’t exactly concern washing over the nurse’s face…more like wonderment. Perplexity. Still, when the subject is one’s own body, no one likes to see uncertainty in the eyes of a medical expert.

“What is it?” Leigh asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” The nurse spoke more to herself than to Leigh. “Nothing’s wrong. But that’s what’s so strange.”

“What do you mean?” Leigh didn’t even realize she was yelling. She ripped her arm from the nurse’s grasp and peered down. Minus a couple of freckles, her skin was completely flawless.

“Now calm down, sweetheart,” Vicky said, placating her with a pat on the head. “This is a good thing. I just want the doctor to take a look.”

Vicky looked away from Leigh’s arm and hurried over to an intercom next to the door. “Paging Dr. Benton,” the nurse said, pressing the round blue button. “Dr. Benton, would you please report to room 202?”

Less than a minute later, Dr. Benton arrived.

Except this time, “Dr. Benton” was a middle-aged man with a graying beard and salt-and-pepper hair. He walked to Nurse Vicky’s side.

“Dr. Benton, come take a look at this.”

The nurse led the stranger to Leigh’s side, who looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

The bearded man half-smiled and answered her in a professional manner. “I’m Dr. Benton. It’s nice to meet you.”

“But you’re not—”

The doctor gripped her arm firmly. “Excuse me just a moment, miss, I need to look at this.” He pulled up the bandage with far less care than his nurse, and the same baffled expression washed over his face.

His word of choice was “remarkable.”

Leigh felt tears coming on and began to hyperventilate again. “Please,” she said, looking back and forth between doctor and nurse, “someone tell me what’s going on.”

The doctor pulled the bandage back down. “Everything is fine,” he said calmly, rocking back on his heels.

“Then why do you both look so surprised? And where’s my other doctor?”

Dr. Benton threw a puzzled glance at his nurse. “What is she talking about?”

Nurse Vicky shrugged. “I’m not sure. She said a Dr. Benson paid her a visit before I got here and gave her that food. I just figured she meant you.”

Dr. Benton looked back down to Leigh. “There is no Dr. Benson practicing at Saint Andrews. My name is Dr. Benton, and I am your assigned physician.”

Leigh stared up at him. She wanted to ask another question, but the thoughts were coming so quickly it was as if a traffic jam had developed in her brain.

The doctor overlooked her silence and kept talking. “I suppose, considering this fortunate turn of events, I can now be completely honest with you. I’m always happy to share good news with my patients. It’s the best part of the job.”

Dr. Benton paused his speech to chuckle, and his bemused expression suggested that he expected Leigh to share the laugh, but she stared back at him in total bewilderment. He cleared his throat and continued.

“When you were admitted to this hospital, your examination showed you had suffered no serious injuries: no broken bones, no internal bleeding. Nothing. Your physical state was surprisingly normal—minus one abnormality, located on your right bicep.”

He pointed to the bandage.

Leigh inhaled a sharp breath that she could barely release. “What?”

The doctor sighed. “You had contracted a fungal disease. One that we hadn’t seen here in a very long time. At first I couldn’t believe my eyes. Or rather, I didn’t want to believe them. You see, that particular fungus was so intrusive and destructive that it at one time practically shut down this entire town.” He shook his head as if he didn’t believe his own words. “And until today we thought it to be incurable. But here you are. Healthy as a horse.”