Chapter 7 - The Neutralizer
By 5:30 AM, I was back in the hallway of St. Catherine’s Medical Center.
My left arm was immobilized in a black sling, three of my ribs were tightly bandaged, and my face was bruised and pale. But I refused to sit in a hospital room. I stood outside the glass doors of the ICU, supported by a wooden crutch, watching Dr. Bennett and his team work inside.
Detective Reyes stood beside me, holding a cup of hot water.
"The state lab in Atlanta ran an emergency spectrographic analysis on the blue liquid," Reyes said quietly. "It’s a specialized atropine and pralidoxime derivative. It specifically targets the organophosphate compound found in Claire's blood."
"Did they administer it?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"Forty minutes ago," she replied. "Dr. Bennett said her blood pressure began stabilizing almost immediately."
The heavy double doors of the ICU swung open.
Dr. Bennett stepped out, pulling off his surgical mask. For the first time in six terrifying hours, the grim line of his mouth softened into a weary, genuine smile.
"Mr. Sloane," he said.
I leaned heavily on my crutch. "Doctor?"
"Her liver function has normalized," Bennett said, wiping a line of sweat from his forehead. "The neurological tremors have stopped completely. The neutralizing agent worked. She is out of danger."
A breath I felt like I had been holding for an eternity finally burst from my lungs. My knees buckled, and Knox caught me by my good shoulder before I could hit the floor.
"Can I see her?" I choked out, tears finally breaking through my reserve, streaming down my face.
"She's waking up," Bennett nodded. "Only you. Ten minutes."
I pushed myself upright, tossed the crutch aside, and walked through the ICU doors.
The room was quiet, save for the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor—a slow, healthy seventy beats per minute.
Claire lay on the bed, her dark hair spread across the white pillows. The deathly pale gray color had vanished from her skin, replaced by a soft, warm flush. Her long eyelashes fluttered, and then her deep brown eyes slowly opened, fixing on me.
"Mason..." she whispered, her voice dry and faint.
I dropped to my knees beside her bed, taking her hand in mine, pressing my forehead against her knuckles. "I'm here, sweetie. I'm right here."
"The... the babies..." she rasped, her fingers tightening weakly around mine. "Are our babies okay?"
"They're perfect, Claire," I sobbed, kissing her skin over and over again. "Two boys and a girl. They're healthy, they're safe, and they're waiting for you."
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Claire let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief, a beautiful smile touching her lips. "I dreamed... I dreamed someone was trying to take you away from me."
"Nobody is taking anyone away," I swore, looking into her eyes with pure, absolute devotion. "I cleared the room, Claire. The world is safe for us now."
