Archie was going to die. Like Parker. Like her father. He was dying right in front of them.
At that moment Archie’s back arched and he started to seize. Susan couldn’t see well, didn’t know what was happening, but she could see his legs move, and his chest horribly buckled in the air. Susan had watched her father have seizures just like it. “Help him,” she pleaded. She was crying. She couldn’t help herself. She didn’t belong there. She couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t think straight. Everything was falling apart.
“Susan—my purse,” Gretchen said.
Susan wasn’t going to let Archie die. Nothing else mattered. Gretchen seemed so confident. She had been a nurse. She knew what to do. She could save him. She had done it before. Susan looked over and saw the white purse on the bar, grabbed it, and hurled it toward Gretchen.
She regretted it as soon as it left her hands. But there was no taking it back.
The purse flew through the air and landed near Gretchen’s knee.
The motion distracted Henry and he took his eye off Gretchen for a moment and shouted, “No!”
In a flash, Gretchen had the purse open and had a gun to Henry’s head. They faced each other on their knees. The barrels of their guns were only inches from each other’s skulls. Gretchen grinned, her eyes bright, saliva glistening in the corners of her mouth. Archie’s prone body lay between them, the seizure over. He was probably dead, Susan realized. She lifted her fingers to her throat, horrified by what she had done.
Gretchen smiled. “Shouldn’t work with amateurs, Henry.”
CHAPTER
65
Susan,” Henry said softly. “Get out of here.”
It was too late. Susan couldn’t move. Not because she was frozen with fear, but because she was so fucking pissed off with herself she couldn’t think straight.
“Don’t even think about it, pigeon. You want to save Archie’s life, don’t you? The hypo’s in my purse. Come here.”
Susan couldn’t respond. She was paralyzed.
“You can save Archie’s life, if you get your ass over here in the next few minutes.”
Susan wiped some more bloody snot from her lip and then forced herself to find the will to move. She slipped the paring knife in the back pocket of her jeans and took a halting step toward Gretchen.
“Get out of here,” Henry said. “Go to the road, try to get to town.”
But Susan kept walking. She could feel the sharp little knife pressing through the denim against her flesh and it was the only thing driving her to move. She went through a mental catalog of targets: Gretchen’s perfect blue eye, her elegant jugular. Stab and twist. It was a little knife, sure. But it would be all Henry would need to wrestle Gretchen’s gun away. Or shoot her between the eyes.
As Susan got closer she could see Archie better. His eyes were white slits and his skin was tinged with blue. She fought back hot, angry tears. Henry still had one hand on Archie’s pulse. That was a good sign, Susan told herself. It meant there was a pulse to feel.
Susan stopped walking and sank to her knees in front of Gretchen. The jugular was best, she decided. More room for error.
“Good girl,” Gretchen said. “Now reach into the outside pocket of my purse. There’s a hypodermic with a plunger on the needle and a rubber tourniquet. Get them now.”
Susan retrieved the hypo and tourniquet. “I don’t know how to use these,” she said.
“You’ll learn,” Gretchen said. “And if you fuck it up, Archie will die. And then I’ll kill Henry. And you. Now, tie the tourniquet around his arm and find a vein,” Gretchen said. “Do you see one?”
Susan rolled up Archie’s sleeve, tied the rubber tourniquet around Archie’s bicep, and picked up Archie’s arm. The skin was bluish and cool. But she could see a vein bulging out on the inside of his elbow. “I think so,” she said.
Gretchen’s voice was completely controlled. “Position the needle bevel side up. Push it in. You’ll feel a little pop as you enter the vein.”
Susan positioned the hypo, bevel side up, and pushed it into Archie’s arm. She felt the pop. “I think I’m in,” she said.
“Good,” Gretchen said. “Is there any blood in the syringe?”
Susan looked at the hypo. There wasn’t any blood. “No,” she said.
“That’s okay,” Gretchen said. “Pull back on the plunger a little.”
Susan pulled back on the plunger. A tiny squirt of red entered the syringe. “I see blood,” she said.
“Good,” Gretchen said. “That means you’re in a vein. Now make sure the bevel is still up and push the plunger in.”
Susan checked the bevel and then pushed the plunger in. She’d done it. She’d given him the drug. She wanted to laugh and cry and dance around the room. Then she caught sight of Henry’s grave face, his gun still leveled at Gretchen’s head. Susan pulled the hypo out of Archie’s arm. She didn’t have anything to stop the bleeding at the needle site so she bent his elbow and held it.