Elixir

"Cut the fucking noise."

"The sumbitch woke me up."

"Somebody shut him the fuck up."

His brain was a noisy animal thing that couldn't hold awareness. He'd focus on a thought, and suddenly it was gone as if holes were opening up in his brain like bubbles in cheese.

Help me.

For an instant, he was in his dorm suite at Pe

Somebody opened the window, and hot yellow pus poured over the sill.

His mind screamed, Help me. Chris gotta help me.

Lungs filled with wet air. He was having trouble breathing, flushing out the sacs. As if the old tissue had lost its suppleness.

Drown. You 're going to drown.

He rolled to his side and spit up stringy fluid. His lungs were filling up. He couldn't get air.

More yelling.

Then hands were on him. Turning him. Wiping his forehead.

"It's only superficial. Put a Band-Aid on it."

"Chris? That you?"

"What he say?"

"He wants to know if you're Christ."

"Yeah, J. Christ himself at your service."

"We get a screamer once a month, which is why we got this."

Somebody pulled his arm and pushed up his sleeve.

"His buddy came in yesterday and tried to shoot him up. Bopped Clint in the throat, and this one held him down while needle man got away. Want a little fix?" he asked Wally. "Well, here you go."

Wally could barely feel the prick of the needle.

Thank you, Chris… Roger.

He heard his mouth mumble something.

"What he say?"

"Thislicksa?"

"He wants to know if you lick it."

"Yeah, lick this, pal."

Jab.

"A lick sir?"

"Yeah, a lick, sir, and a promise, buddy boy. Now go to sleep."

"Frensfalife."

"Yeah, friends for life. You'll feel better in the morning."

Monday morning came six hours later.

Outside a cold sun rose over the horizon and sent shafts of light through the window of the guard's office.

The Monday day deputy was Le

Every morning Le

Tom shuffled to the tray slot. "Be doing a lot better if that asshole didn't keep me awake half the night." He nodded to the cell on the other side of his wall.

"Happens sometimes. The walls close in, and they flip out."

Le

No response.

"Time to get up. I'm taking you to courthouse at nine."

Nothing.

Le

He checked his watch. It was 7:38. He had to be fed and ready to go in little over an hour.

"Hey, pal. Rise and shine."

Nothing.

Because Olafsson was sleeping on his side against the wall, Le

He took out his keys and unlocked the door, automatically dropping his hand onto the handle of his baton. It was an u

Still the man did not stir.

What hit Le

In one smooth movement he tore off the blanket and pulled the man onto his back.

The man was dead, all right. Le

He flicked on his pocket flash. "Jesus Christ!" Gooseflesh spasmed across his scalp.

The man's head did not look human. It was twice the size of normal and covered with dark red lesions. The eyes were swollen balls. His nose looked like a huge deformed black potato covered with lichens. One exposed ear had doubled in size-a fat ragged leaf with dark liquid ru

What nearly stopped Le

The next moment, Le

29

Laura tried to conceal her panic so Brett wouldn't think Roger's condition was critical. Yet she did a feeble job of it.

When he turned on the radio, she snapped it off, fearful there would be a police report on their escape. Brett protested, saying he would keep it low, but she refused. When he asked what the problem was, she exploded. "'No' means NO! I don't want to listen to the damn radio, okay?"

A moment later she apologized. He had never seen her so anxious.

"Mom, tell me the truth. Is Dad going to die?"

She looked at him. His gorgeous tawny eyes were so wide with fright that she nearly burst into tears. So damn unfair. "No, honey, he's going to be fine. It's probably just muscle spasms. They're doing tests."

It was the best she could do. To elaborate would thicken the lie and make her feel worse. Her objective was simply to minimize his fear.

He didn't respond, and she wasn't convinced he believed her.

Someplace near Hudson on Route 94, she pulled into a gas station to fill up. Before the attendant stepped out, she stuffed a twenty into Brett's hand and dashed into the restroom.

Inside she dialed Roger. The sound of his voice filled her with relief.

He was just approaching Black River Falls. She told him how she had picked Brett up and the excuse she used to get him out of the game. He listened, then trying to sound calm, he told her that it was the feds and he had gotten away in his safe car.

When they clicked off, she threw up into the toilet. The Awful-Awful had begun.

"Whose house is this?"

"A friend of Dad's."

"What friend?"

"Nobody you know. One of our growers. He uses it for business associates when they're in town."

Brett seemed to buy the answer. Laura thought grimly how good she was getting at deceiving her son. She could now do it by reflex.

But there was no way she could tell him that it was their place or he'd want to know why they never mentioned it or brought him before. She also couldn't pass it off as a rental or he'd wonder why Roger didn't save money and get a hotel room. They had always treated Brett with respect, so he trusted that they held few secrets and never dissembled. He accepted her explanation without question.

When eventually he learned that the last thirteen years had been a grand lie, she wondered if he'd ever trust them again.

She also wondered how long she could maintain the illusion before cracking up.

The condo was located on the west end of Mi