Another stab of pain wracked him, brought him out of his stupor.
He coughed, and the incision over his navel bulged. A bag of bloody, pale tissue pushed against his hands.
And he almost vomited.
Clean. Fresh. God!
Gagging, to keep his mind off it, he talked.
"Listen to me…" Borland started, took a swig of Listerine. You idiot!
But he couldn't do it with anger.
"Judy," he said, wheezing. "They're here to help you."
"They want your baby," she snarled. "Like they took mine. Don't let them fool you."
"Judy, I don't have a…" Borland started and then clamped down on his anger. He grimaced around another pulse and nauseous twist of his guts. "They can't take my baby. I'm a man." He tried to grin reassuringly, but only managed to bare his teeth and groan. "I'm a man. You can see that! You god…" Damn. Stupid… Temper. Easy. "Judy, I'm badly hurt here. It's nothing to do with a baby."
"You're in denial, sweetie." Judy pursed her lips and let her eyes slide down over Borland's belly, surveyed the bloody mess under his hands. "We'll get you help."
"No!" Borland shook his head and he took another drink of Listerine. A spasm of pain clenched his torso and he gasped. "I'm a cut open man, Judy! Look at me!"
He spread his bloody hands; the raw wound gaped. A sack of light pink flesh protruded slightly.
"Stay calm. Don't get down on yourself." Judy shook her head and smiled reassuringly. "I know what you're going through. You don't want to believe."
There was another clamor out in the hall. Heavy thumping, the big bad SWAT team would be there soon. Borland closed his eyes against the pain and tried to think of their protocol.
If Judy weren't armed, they'd just charge. With her gun they'd be left with Tasers or stun grenades. Would they use them knowing Borland's condition and that there was another captive in the room? Not likely. The chance of the grenade landing on an injured civilian was too great. That could start a fire too.
What would they do?
He coughed again and shivered. His hands were wet, very wet. He was bleeding again.
Jesus! You don't have time for this.
A new voice shouted through the door.
"Judy," a woman called. "This is Dr. Lemington. Do you remember me?"
Judy looked over at Borland, her eyes wide with terror or fear or anger. His dying eyes were having a hard time with the subtler points of emotion.
"Who's that?" he asked her, finally.
"She's the one who took my baby!" Judy hissed, squeezing the pistol in her hand.
"Judy," said Dr. Lemington, "I know you're frightened."
Judy glared at the door.
"And I know you've been confused," Lemington said, "and I know you've been disappointed." The voice quieted and then: "I know you're depressed. That's why you left the police force."
"I left to find my baby!" Judy surged onto her knees, and fired three shots at the door before she screamed: "I'm a police officer, I won't let you do it to anyone else."
There was quiet for half a second, Mr. Cumberland snored, and then…
"No, Judy. You lost your baby," the doctor said nervously, moving back into position. "And they fixed your hernia here."
"Hernia!" Judy looked down at her own injured stomach, pressed her free hand there and fired another shot at the door. "You're a liar!"
Borland was trying to focus on her pistol, trying to think of the number of bullets in the clip, but his mind was foggy from blood loss and he was wracked with spasms of pain.
Confused.
He took a breath and every nerve in his abdomen fired pain.
Disappointed.
Tears welled up in his eyes.
Depressed.
"Judy," Borland said, cleared his throat. The action made him shudder in pain. "She said you lost your baby."
Judy glared at him. The barrel of the gun centered on his face. "Don't listen to them."
"See, I think you lost your baby," he said, "and the operation started something in your head. And now you're sick with sadness. There's nothing wrong with that."
"I didn't lose my baby," Judy said, tears shining in her eyes. "What kind of a person, what kind of a mother would do that? Lose something so precious. I'd go to hell for that!"
"You're only human," Borland wheezed and dragged a foot up. His guts bulged out of the wound and he grunted. More blood spilled.
He wasn't going to make it. A peaceful resolution to a hostage situation could take hours he didn't have.
… a finesse he'd never learned.
"Look, unless…" His eyebrows formed a thoughtful line. "Wait a minute, go to hell? "
"That's what happens," Judy explained, "to bad mothers."
"It doesn't Judy," Borland gasped, the pain was breaking him. Tears rolled out of his eyes.
"Yes it does!" Judy insisted.
"You must belong to one of those nutty churches," Borland said, and a sob shook him. The muscles in his torso ground against each other. "That send people to hell for anything."
Don't do it…
"I'm Catholic…" Judy's eyes softened for a second.
"Even those bastards won't send you to hell for losing a baby," Borland chewed on his lip as a spasm of pain shook him. More tears fell. "Unless…"
"That's enough!" She glared at him and held the pistol at his face.
Oh god, don't do it.
"Judy, I thought it was postpartum depression, but now I think it's just depression," Borland said and shrugged painfully. He was getting dizzier. "Maybe it's the Variant Effect too, but I think it's mostly guilt."
"Quiet!" The gun shook in Judy's hand.
Do what you have to do."
"You didn't lose your baby, Judy," Borland growled.
"Shut up!" she screamed.
"You aborted it," he snarled.
"Shut up!" Judy shouted and slipped another hand around the gun to steady it. "You don't know what you're talking about!"
Just do it.
"I don't care one way or another. But as a Catholic you're damned and as a cop you'll condemn yourself for being human." Borland tried to sit forward but was overcome with nausea. His heart throbbed heavily. "I can't see a way out for you."
"Judy?" Dr. Lemington called through the door.
Judy looked over, and then back at Borland.
"See," she said. "They turned you against me."
"Jesus!" he yelled, eyes full of tears. "Judy either put me out of my misery, murder Mr. Cumberland or do what you have to do!" He winced rolling to his knees. "You know there's only one person in the room that's got this coming!"
Judy aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER 12
That was then. This is now.
Borland sat on his couch sipping whiskey and watching the blue screen. Zombie's comic book lay crumpled on the couch beside him.
Judy…
It was easy for Brass's scientists to biopsy her brain. She'd conveniently opened her skull for them. They found the Variant molecule there, but in quantities that suggested it should be dormant. And there was no sign of the new thirteenth hybrid molecule they'd found in Parkerville.
She was a kinderkid but had never presented. A worrier, a bit of a nail-biter, but nothing you could put your finger on. Nothing outside the norm or dangerous.
Unlikely Variant, so it was guilt that presented, that drove her to extremes.
Judy was a uniformed Metro cop for eight years with the dream of finding a nice fellow, settling down and becoming a mother.
Her dream came true.
But not for her ambitious boyfriend, another uniformed Metro cop. He had his eyes set on promotions and so he declared their love-child a little premature-maybe later after the wedding. They could try again.
Pressure was applied-ultimatums issued. And dreams collided.
Judy should never have agreed to the abortion.
The guilt caused her to fight and ruined her relationship before the marriage. That sent her into a tailspin that ended with her on indefinite leave from the force riding a psychiatrist's couch.