My Control

Chapter Two

Even Perry knew what would happen in a hostage situation such as this.

When an apparent psychotic was holding someone hostage, everyone knew that it was better to let the psychotic go than to try and talk him down. Newbie had tried hard though in every way Perry knew possible.

But that hadn’t stopped Josh Andrews from dragging him to a car. He shoved Perry against the door, holding his forearm against Perry’s throat.

"Open the door and get in. We’ve got to get away from the fire."

"Listen, Josh, is it?" Perry asked. He struggled to find the sympathetic doctor in him to talk the man down.

"No! No, it’s never Josh! Josh is gone, you idiot! Open the door!"

Perry made the gesture as if he were opening the door from behind. "It’s locked," he said slowly, hoping to at least wrestle the knife away from Josh.

Josh backed away, knife held in front of him. "Open the fucking door or we’re going to die here!"

Perry opened the door, still going as slow as he possibly could. "Listen, you don’t have to do this."

Before Perry could react, Josh had lunged forward and slashed the knife across Perry’s neck shallowly.

"Get in now, we’ve got to get away from this fire."

Deciding in his head, Perry lunged back to wrestle the knife away.

Josh twisted and slashed the knife deeply across Perry’s left upper arm, cutting deeply into the skin. Blood rose immediately to his white lab coat.

"Get in, would you? I’m trying to save you!"

When Perry didn’t move, Josh suddenly came forward and knocked him out in one solid blow.

"I had to do that!" Josh said brokenly. "I can’t save you otherwise."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Perry woke up, his hands were bound tightly behind his back with clear, plastic cable ties, as were his ankles. His lab coat was missing, giving him an opportunity to inspect the deep gash on his left arm. He curbed his anger in an attempt to stay calm.

He tried to focus slowly. Stupid tweaker had hit him hard after all. He was lying on his side on a cold, concrete floor. There were dim lights here and there, and the stench of something not quite human stung his nose. He took a mental check-up of his own body, relieved to find that only his head and the two cuts hurt.

It irked him that his shoes were missing, and didn't surprise him that his beeper was gone.

"Yo, Ripper," a scraggled voice hissed. "That dude you brought is awake. Make him go away or somethin’."

Perry focused slowly to find someone staring at him. It wasn’t Josh.

The man in front of him was old (or may have just appeared so because of prolonged drug use) with graying hair that was thin on his stretched scalp. His eyes were a crazy, clouded sort of brown.

The man poked Perry’s chest.

Perry backed away by instinct, only to feel the ground scrape against his hands.

"You should give him some of the other stuff. Looks like a butterfly," came Josh’s familiar voice, but it was different now. Josh’s voice held none of the panicked terror it had earlier. This voice was grating and raspy.

Perry himself had a bad feeling about whatever the "other stuff" was, but he finally realized he was in a crack house and knew better than to make sudden movements around a bunch of tweakers. At the very least, Josh was no longer holding a knife.

Josh bent his head in front of Perry’s, tilting so that his greasy brown hair fell against the doctor’s cheek.

"I’ll call you butterfly," he said harshly.

"Like hell you will," Perry snarled.

"Got a live one there, Ripper," came a third voice. This was one was distinctively female.

Perry looked around more now that the room was no longer spinning. Besides Josh, there were five other people there. Three of them were crowded in a corner, rocking together around a pipe. A fourth woman lay dazed against the wall, a needle still hanging from the instep of her elbow. Josh’s…friend was still sitting Indian-style at Perry’s bound feet.

Josh looked up from his crouched spot. "He do for ya?"

The woman came over and kicked Perry’s lower back. He gritted his teeth and started working at the plastic ties around his wrists desperately. He didn’t like where this was going.

"For Christ’s sake, Rip, calm him down," the woman spat, and landed a solid kick to Perry’s stomach.

Perry briefly saw stars followed by a strong urge to vomit.

"You got my stuff though?" Josh asked, staring at the woman’s pockets greedily.

"Here," she said and threw a freezer bag at him. "Get someone else. He’s not good enough for my neck of the woods."

Josh sat down near Perry’s head, plowing through the baggie. He brought up a needle with glee.

The woman left the house, and Perry felt a little more hope slip away. She seemed to be the only one who was sane. Abusive and creepy, but sane.

If he let himself drift, she’d reminded him of Jordan.

But then Josh had a solid grip on his upper arm suddenly and Perry pushed away as best he could.

"For the love of all that’s holy, stop it, Josh!" Perry finally shouted.

Josh looked at him quizzically. "Who?" And then he plunged a needle into the soft skin of Perry’s inner elbow.

Perry immediately felt the effect and watched the room grow hazy and muddled. The soft voices of the other addicts became louder and more frightening. He turned wild eyes to Josh, who had a sort of unholy happiness in his face. He looked to Josh’s friend, who was clapping wildly.

"Give him some more, Rip!" the man shouted like a small child egging on his bully friend.

"God, stop it," Perry tried to shout but it came out as a hoarse whisper. He struggled to kick, but even with his ankles bound together, all he could manage were a few slow movements.

The man at his feet began slapping Perry's legs wildly in his enthusiasm.

Josh stared at Perry’s dilated eyes. "It makes everything else stop, makes it go away," he whispered. "With this, the kids are alive."

Perry felt something niggling at the back of his mind, but it was covered up by whatever Josh had given him. The room swam and the lights around him began to mix together and form other shapes that either terrified him or enthralled him.

Josh’s face changed slowly in that instant as Perry stared at him again in a drug-induced nightmare.

"So pathetic." The voice this time was even, calm, and slightly scarier than the raspy druggie had been or the panicked shouts of a madman. "Be a man."

Perry felt another solid punch to his stomach. This time when the nausea came over him, he vomited into the dusty concrete floor. The room still refused to stay still and Josh leaned his head in over Perry’s again.

"Those children were dead before he got there you know. Smoke inhalation. Dead before anyone got there, dead as a doornail. So dead their bodies had turned cold before the firemen even got to that floor."

Perry waved his head from side to side, and even the pain from the cable ties had begun to fade. He stared blearily at the window, where a full moon cast an odd blue glow in the room.

He thought briefly for a moment that he was in a room with a bunch of crazy frickin’ tweakers.

And then he passed out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

JD leaned against the wall, one foot propped behind him and his arms crossed against his chest.

"I’ve told you everything I can about the patient, I don’t know why you’re not out there looking for him," JD said between gritted teeth.

"Because we like to know what we’re dealing with before we go after some psycho," the officer explained patiently.

JD let a fist fall against the wall gently. "He came in presenting with typical withdrawal symptoms characteristic of a heroine or meth addict. He seemed to become agitated, so I opted to restrain him. When I called for a nurse, he flipped and ran out the door. The louder noise must have scared him."

"Did you know where Dr. Perry Cox was at the time?"

"I knew he was on-call for the night, but I didn’t know his location."

"Why didn’t you call him for help with this patient?"

JD clenched his fist. "Because I had it under control, and this is something I wouldn’t normally call the attending physician for."

The officer made a noise of disapproval in the back of this throat, but continued to write things down in his notepad.

"When you entered the room on the first-floor, why do you think Dr. Cox wasn’t trying to get free?"

"Because he couldn’t breathe and the patient had a knife to his head. Would you try and get away?"

"Easy, Dr. Dorian. Why did you tell the janitor here to stop when he made a move?"

"Because it was becoming obvious by that time that the patient wasn’t just coming out of a bad drugging spree. He was presenting by that time with other signs of a more deeply-seated psychosis. It’s not wise to take them by surprise."

"Do you know now what it might be?"

"No, I don’t. I haven’t spoken to him since he took off out the door with one of our best doctors."

"Did you attempt to talk the man down?"

"Of course I did! He had one of my…mentors in a choke hold!" JD resisted the urge to yell. He’d already told this story now three other times to two other officers.

"Why didn’t you call for a psychologist?"

JD ran his fingers through his hair. He really needed a shower, not to mention a nap.

"Because there wasn’t time! God damn it, how many times do I have to tell you idiots this? Why the hell are you talking to me?"

"Because you were the only one to really talk with this man, Dr. Dorian. We’d appreciate it if you could be just a little more cooperative."

JD felt his hand close around a beaker and before he knew it, he had chucked it against the wall. He felt a small amount of delight as it shattered.

"Anything else?" he asked angrily.

"I think that’ll do us, Dr. Dorian. We’ll call and let you now what we’ve found later. Send in the janitor next."

JD gave a shrill, high-pitched laugh of someone entirely too stressed out. He left the lab room that the officers had been using as a makeshift questioning room.

"Hey, Janitor," JD called. "They want you in there."

Janitor still had it somewhere in his heart to drag a mop over JD’s shoes.

Carla came up to JD and gently lay a hand on his shoulder. "Bambi, you okay?"

"Of course I’m not okay!" JD snapped. "How the hell is it supposed to be okay when Numb-nuts and Tweedle-Dumber are all sitting around with a thumb up their ass in a piss-poor attempt to actually be real policemen!" JD turned angrily and glared at the lab room.

"Bambi, this isn’t helping. Let’s get you some coffee and…"

"I don’t want any coffee!" JD’s shoulders finally sagged when he saw Carla’s pale face. "God, I’m sorry, Carla…"

"It’s okay, Bambi. We know that…well…you’ve taken a liking to the man. Lord knows why."

JD shrugged and followed Carla to the cafeteria. "Jeez, how could I have been so stupid? I should’ve restrained him when he came in…and where in the name of Rowdy did he get that knife?"

"He ran off pretty quickly, and he was gone for half an hour before we found him. He could’ve gotten it anywhere."

JD slumped down at a cafeteria table with a cup of black acid in front of him. "God knows where the guy would’ve gone. He looked like he was homeless."

Carla shrugged. "Let the cops do their work. They’ll know where to find Perry."

"Man, this is weird," JD said, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw bright spots of light. "Usually I’m the one to end up in the pisser, not Dr. Cox."

"You can’t help human nature, Bambi," Carla said helpfully, even though she was worried too. Right now, JD looked like he was break into a million screams if someone blew on him too hard. "He was gonna catch someone to get out of here."

JD sighed and drank from the cup, wincing as he grabbed the sugar. "Why did it have to be Dr. Cox?"

"Easy victim, I suppose," Carla said helplessly. "The man was sleeping in the on-call room. If you were a psycho, wouldn’t you prefer your victim to be asleep?"

JD’s brain started working slightly. "God, I still should’ve restrained him when I had the chance. Standard procedure for any druggie in here."

"JD, you really didn’t know. And we all know that sometimes the addicts seem pretty harmless. Just twitchers really."

"Look where that got us." JD drank the rest of the coffee, trying to concentrate on how it burned down his throat before he got up. He stopped before he walked out and stared at Carla. "You think he’ll be alright?"

"If I know Perry, he’ll put up a hell of a fight."

JD smiled weakly. "Yeah. Or give them a tongue lashing of some kind."

Carla nodded and watched worriedly as JD walked out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"God damn meth-heads," Perry groaned as he woke up. His stomach and back hurt, and his wrists and ankles were still bound. He looked around to judge his surroundings again. He still lay on the concrete floor (which was beginning to bruise his hip), but there were fewer people now. A glance to the window let him know it was now day. Unable to see the sun at all, he couldn’t gauge the time.

Perry glanced around the room again, but only Josh was there.

Josh rocked in a corner, a rubber band still around his upper arm. He looked around wildly, twitching like he had the night before.

"Josh?" Perry called hoarsely and coughed.

"Who the hell are you?" Josh snapped. "Why should I know you? Did I get you out of the fire?"

His mind now clear of the drugs, it snapped into Perry’s mind what Josh’s problem might be (among the withdrawal symptoms of course).

Josh Andrews had Dissociative Identity Disorder. Perry chewed the inside of his cheek. Great…

"Josh, you’ve got to let me go," Perry said calmly, even though his own body was beginning to protest not only the drug, but also his lack of food and water as well. He could feel shaking in his limbs as he struggled to make eye contact with Josh.

"If I let you go, you’ll just go back into the fire, and I can’t let you do that," Josh snapped.

"There is no fire!" Perry snapped desperately. "There’s never been any fire! You came to the hospital last night and you kidnapped me!"

"God, you must be have breathed in too much smoke, jack," Josh said, even though his voice shook. "I don’t have time for this; there’s still children in there!"

"There is no fire! You’re in a crackhouse, you drug-abusing psycho!" Perry knew he was on the verge of losing it, which wasn’t good with a crazy addict.

Josh crawled towards him. "Come on, man, you’re not making my job easy. You’re safe now. I don’t want to have to sedate you."

"No, don’t give me anything! Just let me out of here!"

Josh pushed Perry so the doctor was propped against the wall. "I’m not technically allowed to give sedatives, but one of the EMT’s showed me how." Josh pulled a syringe from his blue cargo pants.

Perry grunted and tried to roll away, but Josh shoved him to the floor and put a knee on his chest.

"Just sit still, damn you! I’ve got other kids to save!" And Josh jabbed the needle into Perry’s elbow again.

Perry watched the room begin to spin again. "God damn it, no! You’re fucking nuts, just let me out of here!" His movements grew slower and the lights in the room grew more intense.

Josh’s twitchy ramblings from last night began to make sense at that point. The lights were talking to him somehow.

Perry shook his head, struggling to clear it. "For Christ’s sake, Josh, let someone…let someone help you!"

"I’m helping him. Bite it already, you drunk fuck."

That had been the last voice Perry had heard last night too. He watched numbly as Josh pulled a different needle from his pocket and injected himself.

"You damn pussy, it’s just a little something to calm your pathetic ass down. Now shut up."

Perry shook his head no, struggling to stay awake. But the more he shook his head, the brighter the lights became. He squeezed his eyes shut to block it out, but when he shut his eyes, images of broken, dead patients kept flashing in front of his eyes.

Still refusing to give into the sheer terror of the situation, Perry passed out again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was night before he managed to wake again. His elbow hurt where Josh had jabbed it unprofessionally, and his body felt sluggish.

More people were here tonight. At least seven that Perry could count right off. No one seemed to think it was odd that he was bound.

In fact, it was like a side show. Perry looked wildly for Josh.

But Josh was talking it up above him and pointing to the doctor. "See my butterfly, guys?"

"I’m not a fucking butterfly," Perry groaned and immediately regretted it.

Josh’s hair fell upon his face again, oily and stinking of garbage. "My butterfly’s awake…wanna watch guys?"

A few interested people plopped down near Perry’s body, watching with a sort of eagerness that had Perry’s stomach twisting.

"Damn it, quit putting that shit in me!" Perry yelled.

A woman in front of him only laughed in amusement. "He’s cute, where’d you get him, Rip?"

"Nicked him, Mandy, from the hospital," Josh said happily and pulled Perry to his back. He squeezed Perry’s upper arm until he found a vein.

"God, stop it!" Perry yelled as loudly as he could. "I don’t want that!"

"Too bad, butterfly," Josh said, smoothing a hand over Perry’s hair. "Butterflies shouldn’t twitch like you, no they shouldn’t. Besides, this way, you won’t feel so bad about your kid."

An image of Jack came immediately to his head, but Perry knew that Josh barely knew his name, let alone personal information.

The needle jab startled him from his thoughts. Perry felt the urge to give in again, but struggled against Josh’s hold.

Another bystander laughed. "Dude, calm down. You’ll fly."

"God damn it, let me go!" Perry shouted.

Josh kneeled behind Perry and threw the used syringe across the room.

"Hey Rip…does he burn like you?" someone called.

"Dunno. Do you burn, butterfly?"

The creepy calm voice was back and Perry felt real fear drop into his stomach even as his brain faded in and out in a fuzzy haze.

"No…I don’t, no," Perry managed to mumble in slurred words.

Josh flipped a lighter and ran his fingers over the flame in amusement. The skin turned slightly red and then blistered.

Perry’s eyes rolled from Josh to the flame of the lighter. When Josh propped him against the wall again and held the flame under Perry’s forearm, the doctor gave in.

"What…" he tried to ask, but not before the searing pain of a burn shot through his arm.

For the first time in years, Perry let out a wild, terrified scream of horror even as the others around him laughed and clapped and danced like wild animals chanting about a sacrifice to a heathen god.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

JD shot up from sleep in the on-call room. Despite Carla asking him to come home and sleep, he’d stayed at the hospital in case the cops found anything.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he decided the scream had been from a nightmare and fell back asleep restlessly.

Continues with Chapter 3