Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
It was nearly dawn when Charlotte heard the soft knock at her door. She jolted awake from the couch. Bailey was already on his feet, tail stiff, ears high. Yet he didn’t bark. He only did that for people he trusted.
Charlotte grabbed her gun and approached slowly, tension knotting in her chest. She peered through the peephole and froze.
Then she flung the door open. “Elias…?”
He stood there, clear-eyed yet pale, damp with dawn’s mist and sweat. In his arms— “Alex.”
Her knees almost gave out. She reached for him instinctively, brushing sweat-slicked hair from his face. “Oh my God—Alex. What did they do to him?”
Elias stepped inside and laid him gently on the couch. “He’s been hit with something experimental. Twice. He’s fighting it, but he’s losing ground.”
“I—what do we do?”
Elias handed her the black kit. “He needs a hospital. He needs full stabilization. Oxygen. IVs. A neurosurgeon. Someone to talk him back into who he was. I can’t give him that.”
She looked up at Elias, tears already forming. “But I can.”
He nodded once. “But you can.” Then he turned to go.
“Wait,” she said. “How can I find you?”
Elias stopped in the doorway. “I got him out. But I’m not done.” And with that, he vanished into the fading dark.
“Thank you.” Her voice caught on the wind.
He left Charlotte kneeling beside Alex, her hand trembling as she reached for his. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Come back to me, Alex. Please… come back.”
Alex lay where Elias placed him, burning with fever, his breathing ragged, skin clammy and ghostly pale. He was slipping. Fast. She could see it, feel it. Whatever was done to him wasn’t something she could fix with her first-aid instincts.
“I can’t. I don’t know what to…” She pressed a trembling hand to his chest. It was rising, but barely. “Okay. Okay. Think, Char… think.”
Alex groaned, deep and raw, and his eyes rolled back into his head with a convulsion.
“No.” She reached deep, compartmentalizing her feelings as she lunged for her phone and dialed 911.
“This is Charlotte Everhart,” she told the dispatcher, her voice breaking, “I have a man—he’s not breathing right; he’s burning up. He was drugged. I need an ambulance now.” She followed it with her address.
The dispatcher tried to ask questions. She answered what she could, stumbling over the unknowns.
“What drugs has he taken?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Was he in an accident?”
“No. Just send the ambulance.”
Bailey barked from the front window as sirens approached in the distance.
“Help is coming,” she whispered, voice shaking. “You just stay with me, Alex. Stay with me please.” She grabbed a pillow and positioned it so his airway was open.
The moment Charlotte saw the red and blue lights washing across her porch, she unlocked the front door. Then she returned to her place beside Alex’s limp body, smoothing sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. This was not the time to fall apart.
“Just hold on,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”
As the paramedics burst through the front door and began stabilizing him, Charlotte followed them outside, fumbling with her phone, fingers slick with Alex’s sweat.
She climbed into the back of the ambulance beside him as they began working on him.
The monitor flashed and squealed. She could see the numbers, and her heart sank. They were all terribly abnormal.
Neither experienced paramedic onboard could get an IV started.
His one arm was blown up and purple. The other, they couldn’t find a vein.
As they prepped his neck they saw the previous IV.
But when they tried to use it, it was clotted over.
Charlotte jumped as they drilled a catheter into the area below his left knee.
She didn’t know what was more disturbing—the sound of the drill or the fact Alex didn’t flinch.
Unable to do more for Alex, she hit Tristan Blackwell’s number.
He picked up on the first ring. “Charlotte?” He was instantly alert.
“I have him,” she said, voice cracking. “He’s alive. Barely. He just—he showed up. Elias brought him. He’s burning up; he’s not conscious.”
Tristan’s voice immediately shifted into the measured calm of a trauma specialist. “Where are you now?”
“Heading to Waverly County,” she said as the ambulance turned onto the main road. “We’re five minutes out.”
“I’m already at the hospital,” he said. “I’m heading to the ER now. Paul Kaldor is on shift. We’ve got him.”
She barely hit “end” before she was dialing again.
“Ethan,” she said when he picked up, breathless. “Alex is alive. Elias brought him to me. He’s in bad shape. We’re heading to Waverly County ER now.”
Ethan blew out a breath. “I’m on my way. Do you need me to call Tristan?””
“No, I called him,” Charlotte cried.
The stretcher hadn’t even come to a full stop before Tristan was at Alex’s side. Paul Kaldor was right across from him, already shouting for lab tests, crash drugs, and frequent vitals.
Nurses began attaching oxygen and placing Alex on the monitors. Charlotte watched them both freeze for a heartbeat when they saw Alex up close.
“Jesus,” Paul muttered under his breath.
A head-to-toe observation showed Alex was pale, eyes swollen and twitching beneath closed lids.
Blood was visible in his left ear, and clear fluid leaked from his nose.
Heat radiated off him like steam; his breathing was sharp and erratic.
All his limbs showed restraint marks. His left hand to the elbow was a deep purple color.
His right forearm and abdomen were swollen.
When they listened to his lungs, they were not moving air well.
“I need a central line set up,” Tristan snapped.
“Heart rate 151. Core temp 105.3,” the EMT answered. “Oxygen and IO fluids started in the field. Witness says unknown cause—possible medical experimentation.”
Paul glanced at Tristan as they lifted Alex onto the trauma bed. “This is engineered. We’re flying blind.”
“Page James Blackwell, Neurosurgery, STAT.” Tristan keyed it into his waist-worn telephone.
As nurses swarmed the room, Charlotte stumbled until she was leaning against the wall. She was pale, holding on to the black case like it was the only thing anchoring her to the floor.
Tristan caught her eye. “You did everything right,” he said gently. “We’ve got him. We’re doing everything we can.”
Her voice shook. “Elias gave me this. He said it was the only way to bring him back.”
She shoved the case into Tristan’s hands.
Moments later, the door flew open again—Ethan, Brad, Noah and Graham stormed in. No words, just raw urgency in their eyes. Noah wrapped an arm around her. Ethan stood on her other side.
Paul turned to them. “He’s critical. Unconscious. We’re cooling him down, started labs. But there’s something else—we’ve found spinal punctures. Multiple.”
“Intentional?” Brad asked, voice sharp.
Tristan rejoined them, holding up an image of the portable x-ray. “Yes,” he said grimly. “And worse, there’s a foreign object. Two, actually. Looks like they embedded electrodes at the base of the skull and another at the bottom of his spinal cord.”
Paul added, “They’re pulsing with some kind of bioelectric signature. Not passive. They’re active.”
Noah’s voice was tight. “You’re saying someone hardwired him?”
“We don’t know what for,” Tristan said. “Yet.”
Then he moved back to the table and opened the med kit from Elias. Six vials. Color-coded caps. One folded note. “God, it had to be written by a physician.”
Tristan read it aloud.
[PHASE 1 – STABILIZE] → BLS (basic life support) → Cooling blanket, Foley cath. → IV Ringer’s lactate — NO PO intake x10 days — UO: only ~75cc in last 48h (!!)
?? Meningitis — most likely. → Spinal tap required RED CAP — subdermal, btwn C2–C3, 1cc only → Wait for fever break → IF NO brEAK W/IN 2 HRS → DEATH.
Monitor airway. → Likely need for INTUBATION
If fever breaks: → BLUE CAP – 5cc – SLOW IV + Suction ready — fluid response ↑ DO NOT GIVE EPI → Will cause neural cascade → fatal collapse
→ Then GREEN CAP: 10cc + 40cc NS → Infuse @ 1cc/min → ↑ seizure risk — Use Ativan ONLY — DO NOT proceed to Phase 2 if seizing
[PHASE 2 – RECOVERY] → YELLOW CAP – 3cc SLOW IV → Watch for signs of consciousness → Then: PURPLE – 10cc IV push → Will trigger confusion / combative — Restraints may be needed — Keep verbal cues → “You’re safe,” “You’re okay” → Will eventually calm → sleep follows
[PHASE 3 – RECONNECTION] → ORANGE CAP 20cc reconstituted in 500cc D5W → MUST change IV tubing FIRST → Infuse @ 15cc/hr → ANCHOR MUST BE PRESENT
→ Anchor = Charlotte Everhart → Trust confirmed. Emotional link strong. → Level of return tied to her presence. → “Loves her” — per Gideon’s final interview notes
Additional Notes: — Unknown compound x3 injected into spinal canal pre-transfer → Effects UNKNOWN → May alter response to protocol above → Still, non-treatment = certain death
Wish I could give more. This is everything. God help you if you're reading this.
— S. Vance [Initialed in corner: SV]
Tristan looked up, stunned. “Elias didn’t just smuggle him out. He wants to save him.”
“We start with the spinal tap,” Paul said.
The medical team prepped Alex for the procedure. Tristan held him in place as Paul inserted the spinal needle. Both doctors’ breath caught. The spinal fluid was a fluorescent yellow.
“Son of a bitch, they tagged the fluid.” Paul filled five vials for testing.
“Okay, red cap.” Tristan drew up the fluid then swabbed the base of Alex’s neck. “This is going to hurt.”
Paul glanced at the monitor. “Not as much as what’s already been done to him.”
Tristan injected the red-capped med slowly into the subdermal space. Alex convulsed violently—his back arched, a hoarse, strangled gasp ripping from his throat.
Paul moved to hold him down.
Tristan begged, “C’mon, Alex.”
Alex’s body shook, then stilled. The second hand on the clock seemed to tick. The wait began.