Chapter 46


    And the rain kept on falling:


    David could hear something eerily reminiscent to pebbles pelting the window that was located just


    three feet to his left.His eyes slowly and achingly opened, but only his left eye appeared to be


    operational, the right one waspletely cked out.


    With his one eye the man feebly peered around what looked to be a hospital room,plete with a


    television mounted on the wall in front of him, an oxygen tank hanging to his right side and a tube from


    the machine that was connected to his neck.


    David then managed to catch a mere glimpse of his right hand which was bandaged, as well as his left


    one. He touched all over his face to discover that it as well wasyered in what felt like bandages.


    "My...my family," he tried so hard to open his mouth and speak.


    "Good morning, my friend."


    David all of the sudden heard a voice utter inside the room.The besieged man gawked and squirmed


    all around before his one eye connected with that of a man seated in a chair near the door.


    "The name''s O''Dea." He sat up in his seat. "The nurses said that you''ve been calling out for your family


    ever since you were brought here days ago."


    David studied the man ever so diligently, from his white, buttoned down shirt, all the way to his perfectly


    creased grey cks. The name was quite familiar, but the person was about as important to him as an


    alley cat as far as David was concerned.


    "You should see it outside." O''Dea pointed at the window. "The news said it should cool down some,


    but it''s still hotter than hell out there. I love it when the rain falls and it steams off the pavement. Kind of


    reminds you of some old film noir. Touch of Evil. I love that flick." He casually babbled on.


    David curiously watched as O''Dea got up from out of his chair and began just strolling about the room.


    His presence there, out of nowhere, no less, startled the man just as much as the whereabouts of his


    family.


    "So, you''re the amigo that''s been rattling cages down at the station." O''Dea said. "And you''re probably


    wondering just what I''m doing here."


    David wanted to speak so badly, but for some reason or another, his mouth wouldn''t or couldn''t open.


    Even feeling his tongue seemed like a strenuous detail. It was like it wasn''t even there anymore. He felt


    his itchy, stinging skin behind the bandages squirm and twitch.


    "You''ve been sticking your bulbous nose into something that I think you shouldn''t have, my friend. Now


    look at you, lying here with third degree burns all over your body. What a tragedy."


    Still, David wanted to know more than anything in the world why the man that was so despised back at


    the station was there in his hospital room of all ces. Something was awry, and all the man could do


    was lie still and listen to the spiteful gentleman blunder on and on until he reached his so called point.


    With his hands in his pockets, O''Dea continued to stroll around the room. "Yes, we had us a little...


    situation, some months earlier. And that situation nearly broke the station and everyone in it. The


    problem is, Mr. Ortega, is that you dug just a little too deep down the well, and here you are."


    Images and voices suddenly began to funnel back into David''s head at that very moment. He


    remembered trying feverishly to rush his family out of the explosion, but he also recalled the scene


    inside his living room with vivid precision.


    O''Dea was present for a reason, and he himself was foraging right into the very core as deep as he


    grudgingly could.


    "I still have some connections down at that station, and those connections informed me that you took


    something home with you. And lo and behold, here you are." O''Dea stopped right in front of David''s


    bed. "I''m quite sure you''ve heard of Linus Bruin and what took ce back in February. Detective Bruin


    had some problems, and being the inspector, it was my duty to protect the force from the man''s


    personal issues. Bottom line, Linus had no business being brought back to the force after going to that


    asylum. I tried over and over again to warn Brickman, but the man was fixated on having Bruin back."


    The more O''Dea spoke the more David wanted to break free of both his bandages and the bed. There


    was just something about the man that caused David to explode into a violent sweat all over.


    "I do believe that Linus saw something jarring inside that house that night. But you, Mr. Ortega,


    managed to see something yourself that night inside your home, too. Didn''t you?"


    David only shut his eye momentarily before opening it again to only see a ball of fire exploding in his


    face.


    "Linus was a lot of things, but a nut wasn''t one of them." O''Dea said before resuming his pace about


    the room. "That man walked in on something very, very ugly." O''Dea then happened to turn around to


    face the television above his head. "Yesterday, one of the Hollis Estates buildings went up in mes.


    They''re saying that''s where the animals that have been terrorizing our fair city were holed up. They


    found bodies and bones inside the building. I remember when they put those buildings up back in the


    forties. I was a rookie cop at the time. Hollis Estates was the ce where most of the city''s coloreds


    were housed."


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    David''s body at that instant reverted back to a resting stage. His eye caught sight of the newsbreak on


    the television. Inside he found himself wrestling with both thoughts of his family and what he had been


    searching into ever since arriving in town; but something inside told him to rx.


    Turning back around, O''Dea stated, "Linus Bruin didn''t just happen to run into a domestic violence


    disturbance, that man stepped into another world. Something went on inside that old apartment


    building yesterday. I don''t believe for one moment we''re dealing with some pack of wild dogs." O''Dea


    then approached David at the side of his bed before leaning forward and whispering into his face, "A


    few days ago, you took very important evidence with you home. That same evening, Mr. Ortega, said


    evidence sent you straight here. Now, I need for you to tell me just what in that evidence you saw."


    David only stared right back at the man with the most contemptuous re his one eye could point. He


    wasn''t concerned about all of the warnings and descriptions that he had been inundated with when it


    came to O''Dea, all he could see before him was someone who could have cared less about his


    condition.


    O''Dea was after something; the man had left his career salivating over the case. Pulling away, O''Dea


    said, "Okay, okay, I see exactly how this is going to work." O''Dea then went over and picked up his wet


    umbre from off the air-conditioning unit below the window. "Back in ''72, Uruguayan flight 571 crashed


    into the Andes. Out of forty-five people, only sixteen survived. Why? Because they ate the others,"


    O''Dea dropped his shoulders. "We are survivors. This isn''t Chicago, Mr. Ortega, where they cope with


    baseball jinxes, this is Cypress, Ohio. And you just happened to learn that the hard way. There is


    something quite disturbing running this city, and all I required of you was something, anything, that


    could aid me in my probe. And you just lie there."


    David only soaked in the words, responding to them would only cause his body to itch all the more.


    O''Dea was just an imp, what he caught sitting inside his home days earlier was the real and foreboding


    torment that stuck tighter than all the bandages he was encased inside of.


    Heading for the door, O''Dea said, "It was a gant effort on your part, Inspector. Imend thee." He


    then nced at the television before pointing and stating in a nonchnt demeanor, "Oh, look, the


    Hardy Boys are on." From that, the man walked out the door. "Sorry about your family!" He callously


    mentioned on his way out.


    David''s body was still rxed. He was trapped in a perfect state of calm as the television ran the


    opening theme to the aforementioned program. He remembered a man seated inside his living room,


    and that was that.


    David lifted his frail right arm and managed to grab hold of the tube that was connected to the oxygen


    tank. Then, with what little strength he had left, the man pulled at the rubber tube until it snapped in


    half.


    His hand dropped to the side of the bed as the machine t-lined.