She had been paddling along the river casually when she heard the gunshots. Her mind registered two shots a split second before hearing the squealing of tires and seeing the Durango careening over the embankment. After her initial shock, her nursing training took over. Hurriedly, she pulled up on shore and made her way through the brush to the crushed SUV.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the man behind the wheel. He was battered and bloodied, but her eyes were drawn to the spreading red stain on his shoulder. After 6 years in the ER she knew a gunshot wound when she saw one. Her instincts kicked in and she began triage.

**

He felt himself being pulled both physically and mentally. As he became aware of the voice, he became aware of the pain. Excruciating pain, as if his body was on fire. Slowly, the words registered to him. "I know you’re hurt but you have to MOVE! They’ll be back for you!"

The pulling continued and he felt himself slipping from the wreckage. As he moved, his head felt like the inside of a discotheque. He tried to focus, but found one eye wouldn’t open.

"Help me, dammit!" the voice implored. He tried to put his weight on his right leg, screaming as his broken ankle gave way beneath him. He felt himself being dragged, until mercifully, blackness surrounded him.

**

She groaned as the body became dead weight beneath her. Still, she knew she had to get him to away from the SUV, and away from whoever had shot him. Summoning her adrenaline, she dragged him over to the canoe, managing to lay him inside. Getting in and pushing off, she placed a blanket around her passenger and made her way down the river.

**

He smiled to himself as he climbed into the pickup truck. He was in no hurry. He had seen the Durango crash and knew that even if his prey were alive, he wouldn’t be moving anywhere fast. He almost wished he were alive. He loved to see the fear in their eyes when they saw the gun, that instant of realization, knowing it was going to be their last sight on earth. Now, he wanted to be Sandoval’s last sight on earth.

**

The explosion sent fire and debris high into the sky, scattering debris over a wide field. He had mixed emotions, knowing he wouldn’t see the fear in Sandoval’s eyes, yet happy the first part of the job was done. He knew he would be paid handsomely. Now, there was only one target left. Malloy.

**

Detective John Ryan was in a foul mood. His witness hadn’t panned out and now the highway was blocked. As he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, he made a spontaneous decision to see what was happening. Pulling up to the barricade, he stopped and eased his small compact frame from the car. He walked along the pavement, finally approaching a uniformed officer.

"Hey Bob, what’s up?"

The officer turned and smiled with recognition. "Hey, Detective. Just a wreck. Someone went off the highway and blew himself up." He motioned to the embankment, where Ryan could see the path the vehicle had struck through the trees.

Nodding, Ryan’s detective instinct took over as he surveyed the scene. His eyes settled on a smoldering piece of metal lying on the pavement. A license plate. There was something familiar about it. He moved to take a closer look.

"It must have landed there after the explosion," Ryan heard the officer say.

As realization came to him, Ryan felt a sickening feeling in his stomach. "Was it a brown Durango?" he asked quietly.

Puzzled, the officer looked at him. "Yeah. How’d you know?"

Ryan didn’t answer, suddenly knowing his day had just gotten much worse. "Shit," he muttered to himself.

**

Jessie grabbed the phone as she threw her stuff on the couch. "Yeah?" She heard a familiar voice on the other end and smiled.

"Hi. I’ll be over in about twenty minutes."

"Sure, Trent. Can’t wait." After they said their good-byes, Jessie hung up the phone. She became aware of the sound of running water. Sarah must be in the shower, she thought.

As she moved to pick up her stuff again, the phone rang again. "Hello?"

"Jessie?"

"Yes?"

"It’s John Ryan. Is Malloy there?" Relations between the investigation team of Malloy and Sandoval and Det. Ryan had not always been good. In fact it had been downright nasty. However, with the incidents that had involved Jessie and her breakdown, the two sides had come to a mutual understanding of the other. The relationship was cordial now.

"Hi John. He’s on his way over. He’ll be here in about 15 minutes. Want me to have him call you?"

"Is Sarah there?"

"Yes," Sarah answered hesitantly. "Why?"

Ryan paused only slightly. He knew all Jessie had been through and hoped that this wouldn’t provide any kind of setback. He knew he had to do a face-to-face meeting.

"I need to talk to them. I’ll be right over." With that, he hung up.

Jessie stared the phone for a moment, before putting it down. Shaking her head, she headed back to her room.

**

He became aware of the pain again. His head ached, his shoulder burned and his ribs felt like a lead-weight rested on them. And those were just the good feelings. He tried to focus his eyes, aware of the presence of another person. His right eye was still swollen but opened slightly. "Hi," she whispered.

He tried to speak, his voice coming in rasps. "Where am I?"

"First," she told him, "I want to ask you a few questions." She lifted his drooping eyelid, watching his pupils. "What day is it?"

He struggled to remember, realizing he had no idea the answer to the question.

Seeing him struggle, she smiled gently again. "How about an easier one? What’s your name?"

He thought, again, trying to reach memories that seemed to he hidden behind frosted glass. Panic began to overtake him as he realized he couldn’t come up with his own name.

As he grew more agitated, she spoke softly to calm him. "It’s okay, Rick. You’re okay. You’ve just had a blow to your head. Temporary amnesia is common." She gently laid her hands on his chest, soothing him, with her words. "We have a few other things to take care of, Rick. First, I’m going to have to take that bullet out of your shoulder. Your ankle needs to be set too, but I need more supplies for that. Do you understand?" He nodded.

When she left the room, he took stock of his surroundings. He appeared to be in a bedroom in a small house. The room was cozy, and had a slightly feminine feel to it. Nothing seemed familiar. He was lying on a double bed, his shoulder wrapped in bloodstained gauze. Quickly, she returned with a bowl full of steaming liquid, unknown tools moving inside. Her face looked grave.

"This is going to hurt, Rick." She kept calling him Rick. Was that his name? It didn’t sound familiar, but then it didn’t sound like anything.

"Do you know me?" he croaked.

"Of course," she smiled. "We were lovers."

He was confused, frightened by the fact he was unsure of anything but the present. He had no memory of who or where he was, what had happened, or even who he was with. As he started to ask questions she quieted him. "Later," she told him. "Now, you need your strength." She handed a thick piece of wood to him. "Here, bite on this. This is going to hurt."

As she unwrapped the bandage, he turned away, not wanting to know what was coming. When he felt the burning in his shoulder, he clamped down tight on the wood, the pain excruciating. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand any more, she stopped. As he turned back to face her, he saw the look on her face as she held up the bullet from his shoulder.

"Rick, I’ve got to cauterize the wound. It’s too deep to stitch." As she got up and left the room, the words sunk into his thoughts. As he struggled to get up, she returned, the hot poker in her hand. Spitting out the wood, he croaked, "NO!"

Calmly, she retrieved the wood, and tried to hand it back to him. He refused, trying to push it away. He found his strength ebbing. She held his good arm down, seeing the fight leaving him. In one quick motion, she forced the wood back between his teeth, and laid the poker on his wound. As the smell of burning flesh filled the room, his body succumbed to the pain, surrounding him with darkness.

**

Sarah smiled as saw the figure sitting on the sofa in the living room of the apartment she shared with Jessie. Trent was obviously waiting for Jessie, idly playing with the TV remote control.

"Hi, T," she said as she headed towards the kitchen.

"Hey Sarah." Something in his tone seemed not quite right. This was reinforced by the next statement. "Have fun today?"

She stopped and looked at him. She had definitely caught the sarcasm in his voice. "What’s that supposed to mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

It was obvious that Trent was trying to keep his temper, too. He didn’t succeed. "Look, Sarah, I don’t care what you and Carlos do. It’s none of my business…"

"Damn right it isn’t."

"But when it interferes with work, then it becomes my business." He got up, stomping off towards the kitchen.

"What are you talking about, Trent?" She was genuinely confused.

"Today. You and Carlos. If he didn’t want to meet me at the client’s place, he should have just said so." His voice was rising.

"What? He left just after you called."

"Nice try, Sarah but you don’t have to cover for him. He’s a big boy."

"Are you saying I’m lying?" Sarah’s temper was almost equal Trent’s. "He left just after you called."

"What?"

They were startled by a voice behind them. It was Jessie. All colour had drained from her face. "Oh my God. Ryan."

They turned toward her, unsure what she was talking about.

"What, Jess?" Trent asked.

"John Ryan called about 15 minutes ago. He asked if you and Sarah were here because he had to talk to you. He didn’t say why. I never thought…Carlos…" She couldn’t finish her sentence.

All three stood looking at each other as they began to grasp the possibilities. The doorbell shattered the quiet.

Trent quickly went to open the door. Ryan looked at them, immediately aware of the tension filling the room. They all looked at him expectedly. Swallowing, he moved to Sarah.

"Sarah," he asked gently, "Was Sandoval driving the Durango today?"

Tears began to well up in her eyes before she could even speak. Quickly, Jessie moved to her side. "Yes," Sarah finally managed. "Why?"

"What happened?" It was Trent’s voice.

"There was an accident," Ryan was cut off by a small cry from Sarah.

**

She took a deep breath as she walked into the ER at Dallas Memorial. She hoped that the person she needed was still on the same shift as she had been. Moving down the halls, she was greeted by friends and colleagues, wishing her well, wondering if she was coming back to work soon. She appreciated their concern but now she need to talk to someone. Finally, she found them.

"Deanna," she called to the nurse standing in the supply room. Startled, the nurse turned, her face breaking into a wide grin.

"Gwen! How great to see you!" She gave the girl a quick hug. "Are you back already?"

Gwen gave a smile before answering. "Not yet. Probably just a couple more weeks."

"How are you doing?" Deanna asked, sympathy flooding her voice. "I was so sorry to hear about Rick."

Gwen’s face clouded at the memory. "Thanks. I’m okay, but I need a favour." She looked around, making sure no one else was listening. "Dee, I’ve got a friend who hurt himself on his farm. He is afraid of hospitals so he came to me. The problem is I need a few supplies, including some meds. I’m really sorry to ask you this but I don’t know where else to go."

Deanna looked at her friend, searching her face. She had been through the violent death of her fiancé and was off work on stress leave. Seeing no hint of dishonesty, she made a quick decision. "Okay. Tell me what you need and I’ll see what I can do."

**

"Are you sure?" Sarah’s voice broke.

"I’m sure it’s his Durango. I saw the plate." Ryan could barely stand to look at Sarah, knowing her pain was the worst part of his job.

"What happened?" Trent asked. Of all the things they had gotten into together, it was hard to imagine that his friend would never walk through the sdoor again, never beat him at pool, never…..

"We’re not sure," Ryan told them. "All we know is that something happened to make him lose control and crash down the embankment. There was an explosion…" He let the words hang.

Sarah spoke up. "Have you told his mother?"

Ryan looked at Trent, then shot a glance at Sarah. "No. I thought you all would want to know first. I’m going to go over there now."

"No," Sarah told him. "I’ll go. This is going to just about kill her. She has outlived two of her boys." Sarah let go of Jessie and went to get her coat, moving almost as if in a trance.

"I’ll go with you, Sarah," Trent called after her. "Will you be okay, Jess?"

"Yes."

Ryan looked at Jess and back to Trent. "I’ll stay for a cup of coffee."

"You don’t have to do that, John," Jessie told him.

"I know but I really would like a coffee. It’s been a helluva day."

Trent gave Ryan a small smile of thanks as Sarah returned to the room. Taking her by the hand, he quietly led her out the door, dreading the task that lay before them.

Jessie busied herself in the kitchen, setting the cups on the table and boiling the kettle. As Ryan sat down at the table, Jessie knew something else was bothering him.

"What’s wrong, John?’

He ran his hand over his face. "You know, Sandoval and I never really got along, but somehow, I just can’t believe this is how he gets his ticket punched."

"I know what you mean," Jess said as she placed the steaming cups on the table.

"No, I mean I think there is something wrong with it. It’s too convenient. He’s out in the middle of nowhere, he swerves for no reason and there is no body?"

Jessie dropped the sugar bowl. "What?!"

"Didn’t I mention that?"

"NO!"

"There was no body. I mean, there was an explosion so you don’t expect to find a body but we always find parts…" He stopped when he saw the look on Jessie’s face. "I’m sorry, Jessie. Are you okay?" He rose from his chair and went to help her clean up the sugar.

"Were you going to tell Trent this?" she asked, reaching for the broken pieces of glass.

"Yes, but I just want to make sure. The lab boys are testing for DNA to see if there was any…." He hesitated, not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say. Jessie finished the statement for him.

"Any bits of Carlos left." As she reached for the broom to sweep up the sugar, she told him, "You should have told Sarah. If there is any chance he is still alive, she needs to know."

"Just give me until tomorrow. I’ll have some kind of answer then."

**

She heard the screams as she pulled up to her back door. Grabbing her backpack full of supplies, she quickly ran to the door. Saying a quick prayer for the fact her nearest neighbour was over a mile away, she unlocked the door and ran to the bedroom.

He was thrashing about, oblivious to the pain from his broken ribs and bandaged shoulder. In one swift movement, she grabbed his hands and spoke softly to him, calling his name.

"Shhh, Rick. I’m here. It’s okay. It’s just a nightmare. Shhh."

As she spoke, awareness came to his eyes as they focused on the face above him. He began to realize where he was, his breaths coming in short heavy bursts. Fully awake now, he sunk back into the bed, suddenly feeling all the pain of his injuries.

Brushing his curls from his forehead, she spoke to him again. "I have some medicine for you. They didn’t know it but I took some of the painkillers to help you. Lie still and I’ll get it for you."

As she went back into the kitchen to retrieve her back, the dream came back to him. He heard bullets, feeling a burning in his right shoulder. He felt himself falling, falling. He knew they were trying to kill him, but he couldn’t remember why.

When she returned, he looked at her sadly. "I don’t even remember your name."

"That’s okay. It will all come back eventually. My name is Gwen." She took out a needle and a small vial. With years of practice, she quickly measured out the right amount of morphine, tapped the needle and inserted it into his arm. As she moved toward the door, he reached for her hand.

"Stay with me. Please." She saw the helplessness in his eyes. Quietly, she nodded, moving the covers to lay down beside him, as he reached out to cling to the only thing he knew for certain.

Part 3 Home