Andrew Neiderman - Deficiency

"Go to the bed and start to take off your clothing," he ordered. And then he said something that put even more terror into her, not that she thought that was possible.

"I'm hungry," he said.

She was unable to move, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.

"Move!" he shouted and suddenly she found the strength to do so. It was toward the end when he felt regenerated that he suddenly realized the Samuelses had returned to leave. Charles was getting their suitcases and she was too afraid to get out of the car and help him pack up.

Why would they do that? Why would they come here, book and pay for a room for the night, and then leave? What frightened the woman?

He searched his memory, which was better now, sharper, and recalled they had stopped at the office to pick up a newspaper to find advertisements about restaurants.

The picture.

They had recognized him. What else had they done?

He had to move quickly, he thought. He had better leave as soon as he could.

Once she regained her composure, Terri picked up the phone and again began to punch out 911. All the while Darlene Stone stood like she was indeed made of stone, her eyes glazed over with exhaustion, fear, and confusion. Terri decided to describe them as being in a very bad car accident. She didn't even give her right name. Then she gave the police dispatcher as good an idea of where they were exactly located as she could before turning back to Darlene.

"C'mon," she said reaching for her hand, "we've got to make our way out to the highway."

"Why did you tell them you were Grace Robbins?" she asked.

"Grace was my roommate in undergraduate school," she said moving her forward as she spoke. "Her name just came to me."

"But why didn't you use your real name?"

"It's a complicated mess, Darlene. Right now, all I want to do is get us home. I want to soak in a hot bath and not think about it all. You need a good day or two of complete rest. I'll call in a prescription for you, get you something to help you sleep and forget all this for a while."

"What about that horrible man?" she asked.

Terri thought for a while before responding. They trekked on through the bushes, past some more pine trees, toward a field that ran adjacent with the highway. She was familiar enough with this area to guide them.

"He has other, more compelling business to consider," she replied. Terri really had no idea what Garret Stanley would do next and if he would decide he had to come after them again. As she walked along, she considered all the possible options, not the least being to contact someone at the FBI. She had doubts now that they were ever brought into this mess here. She recognized how difficult it was going to be to get anyone to believe her story, but at the same time, she thought it would be their best insurance. Perhaps, Garret would realize that if he left them alone, people would just not believe them and it would go away.

All of the potential scenarios loomed out there, but at the moment, she was far too exhausted to make any quick decisions. The advice she had given Darlene was probably the advice she should be giving herself, she thought. She laughed to herself just imagining being in Hyman's office and beginning with a line like,

"Hyman, here's the reason why these young women died of severe vitamin deficiencies." Envisioning the look on his face brought a smile to her own. Hyman Templeman, the medical iconoclast, confronted with the horrors of the new millennium: cloning humanity.

It occurred to her of course that she just couldn't go home, or go to Curt's home and go to sleep. Hyman, Curt himself at the hospital, her parents, her in-laws, everyone was going to want to know where she had been. She wasn't even sure what she looked like. She felt some deep aches and some sharp sticking pain in the area of her back. She touched her forehead where her skin felt raw and imagined some sort of scrape there as well. Of course, she couldn't let Curt see her this way, and she could not tell him everything yet. He was in no condition to be burdened with all that worry. It would just impede his recuperation. Maybe the fabrication she gave the dispatcher was the best story to use at the moment... claim she had been in a minor traffic accident. At least that would give her some time to work out a solution, if there was any. Almost twenty minutes later, they broke out of the woods and stepped onto the highway. It was close to perfect timing. A highway patrol car followed by an ambulance rounded the corner, lights blinking, sirens screaming. She held Darlene, who was wavering, her eyes closed. The patrolman spotted them and put on a blinker as he slowed his vehicle. When he pulled up and stepped out of his car, she recognized him to be the first highway officer who had been sent to her house. He recognized her as well.

"Dr. Barnard?"

"Yes," she said.

The ambulance attendants started toward them as well.

"What happened?"

"We got lost, into an accident, and then lost again," she said. He stood back as the attendants approached, both of them recognizing her as well.

"Dr. Barnard?"

"Yes, please get her inside the ambulance. Let's get her blood pressure." Darlene gave in to her exhaustion just at that moment and sank in Terri's arms. The two attendants moved quickly to put her on a stretcher and get her into the ambulance, while the patrolman and she stood back watching.

"How did you come to be out here? Who is that?" he asked her.

"Someone I was helping," she said, keeping it as cryptic as she could.

"What about the car? Where about is it?" he asked turning toward the woods.

"I don't care about the car right now," she said. "Thanks," she added and got into the ambulance as soon as Darlene was rolled inside.

One of the attendants turned to her.

"You have a bad gash on your forehead, Doctor. Might need stitches," he said examining it.

The patrolman stepped closer to the open door.

"I'll follow you to the hospital," he said. "We can send a tow truck later."

"Good," she called back. "Let's get going," she told the attendant and he closed the door.

Moments later they were on their way to the emergency room, and she wondered if the patrolman would report back to Will Dennis or a superior who would report to Dennis.

Wasn't it horrible to have to be afraid of the very people who were employed and supposedly dedicated to helping and protecting you?

She sat back and let the attendant begin to clean her wound, while the other one began to monitor Darlene, and she realized she had been as close to death as she had ever been in her life. It was a rescue that had the potential for geometric impact. Whenever or if ever she saved anyone else's life with her medical skills, she would think it would have not happened if she had not effected this escape. Somehow, she thought, she would be an even better doctor because of all this. Like some child hoping and searching for a rainbow, she closed her eyes and listened to the ambulance siren clearing their way toward home.

He closed the door of Unit 10 behind him, and rushed back to the office to gather up the money he had discovered in the motel owner's apartment. Before he had left Unit 10, he had taken all he could find on Charles Samuels as well. In his way of thinking, money was a sort of fuel, and every person he robbed was a fueling station. He favored cash over anything. He was fearful of using credit cards and leaving some sort of trail. Occasionally, he had taken some jewelry, but he had yet to pawn any of it. That, too, might leave tracks and he knew in his heart that his pursuer was a very sharp, capable, and effective predator, at least as able as he was. It was a frightening thought to envision himself hunting himself. That was a nightmare he recalled vividly. It was what gave him his all-knowing sixth sense.