Code 61 - Donald Harstad [169]
He was obedient. As he began to step back, slowly, he very deliberately squeezed the forceps, and then released it. Blood flowed instantly from Huck's neck, down the tube, and into the basin. Before I could stop him, he continued his motion by raising his left hand, and almost casually flipping the forceps over the back wall of the cubicle. Then he completed his step back from her.
Huck started to make gasping sounds, and strained at her straps. Dan Peale made a series of hissing noises, sucking air deep into his lungs, and forcing it out. Ventilating. He turned his head, farther than would have seemed normal, and I saw his face for the first time.
Dan Peale had a longish face, with pronounced musculature at the jaws. Dark hair and dark brown eyes. No facial hair except the eyebrows. And fangs, nearly an inch long, made more prominent by a wide, predatory grin. Even knowing that they were prostheses, they were startling. There was a smear of blood on his lips and chin.
I'd never seen him before in my life, but I felt I knew him.
“Put your hands behind your back,” I said. “Now!” I had to get to that tube….
“Bleeding…. ” came from Huck.
Dan Peale grimaced and hissed again.
I reached down without taking my eyes from Peale, and got my left hand on the tube. I fumbled and felt the warm liquid running over my hand. Now the tube was slick, and I couldn't get a grip on it without looking down. I glanced at it for an instant, got a purchase, and squeezed it as hard as I could between my thumb and forefinger. It greatly reduced the flow, if not cutting it off completely.
“Cuff him,” I said to Byng.
Dan Peale had a fine sense of timing. Byng, out of his view, had glanced down at his holster, as he put his gun away so he'd have both hands free for using the cuffs. I had relaxed just a tad, having succeeded in nearly stopping the blood pouring from the tube in Huck's neck. And Dan Peale just lifted his knees, dropped way down, straightened abruptly, leaped up onto Huck's table, and jumped over the back wall of the cubicle. One, smooth motion, and he was gone.
I got off one shot, and thought I might have hit him.
I dimly heard a “Hey!” from outside. Borman. I had been nearly deafened by the sound of the shot.
Byng, taking the best action he could, jumped back through the door, and took off around the back of the little room. I saw Sally and Borman going by, and I hollered “Sally!”
I looked down at Huck. “We'll get you out now,” I said.
She was gulping shuddering breaths, trying to hold still. Her eyes were wide, and I don't think she understood a word I said.
Sally came in behind me. “Holy shit,” she said. It was like I was hearing underwater, with the addition of a monotonous squeal. That shot had been really loud.
“You want to kink this tube, and squeeze it for a minute? Don't let go, and don't try to remove the needle from her neck.”
“Right.” She reached out, hesitated. “Gloves?”
“Later. Unless you got a cut on your hand. I'm going to try to find a clamp or something, and we can start getting her out of here.”
“Right.”
As Sally took over the job of closing off the tube, I released the restraints from Huck's wrists and ankles. She was wearing faded green sweatpants, and her feet were bare. They looked very pale and cold.
She had on a thin, dark blue T-shirt. She was shivering, a combination of the cold air and blood loss. The only thing I could find was a large roll of paper toweling. I unrolled strips about as long as she was, and placed several layers over her.
“Do you feel strong enough to walk?” I asked her.
“Nuh, nuh, no.”
Great. Well, I wouldn't have, either. I had no idea how much blood she'd lost, but I suspected it had been quite a bit. The basin at my feet was just about full.
“We'll get him,” I said. “You're going to be fine.”
“Yeah,” she said, weakly, and her head bumped softly back against the bench. “Sure.”
Borman stuck his head in the cubicle. “Where'd he go?”
“I don't know,” I said. “Did you see a forceps laying on the