Rising Storm

Tanya turned at Loretta's shove to glare at her, and Sarah saw Loretta' wink.

Then Tanya looked at Sarah and smiled. Not a nice smile, not one intended to soothe or make friends. It was a smile directed at something nasty going on inside her own head.

Sarah took a deep breath and picked up the cards, shuffling them neatly and then dealing. Tanya watched the pile of cards before her grow without picking them up. When Sarah was finished she placed the deck between them and picked up her own cards. Tanya continued to stare at the pile in front of her.

'Why didn't you ask me to deal?' she demanded. Her eyes rose to meet Sarah's challengingly.

'Did you want to? You can if you like,' Sarah said agreeably, putting her hand back onto the deck.

Tanya looked at the deck, then looked at Sarah. 'You were awful eager to get rid of that hand,' she observed. 'Anybody'd think there was something wrong with it.'

O-kay, Sarah thought. Looks like I'm going to have a fight whether I start one or not. Still, she'd do her best to avoid it.

'Not at all,' she said aloud. 'I just honestly don't care who deals. If you don't want to play cards we can play something else, like checkers.'

'I don't like checkers,' Tanya said as though the mere suggestion were an insult.

Sarah braced herself, certain from the way Tanya was stoking herself up that at

any moment she was going to be attacked. She'd seen this kind of behavior often, years ago, when she'd been here before. If memory served, on occasion she'd done this sort of thing herself.

Tanya grinned. 'It's okay, take your cards, I'll deal the next hand.'

Sarah reached for the deck, and even though she was expecting it Tanya almost got her. As Sarah's hand touched the cards Tanya's flashed forward to impale the deck with a Bic pen. Connor thrust her chair back and started to rise when Loretta struck her viciously on the side of the head with a sock filled with change or metal washers or some such.

Sarah went down, striking her head on the table—hard, then hit the floor, aware but absolutely helpless.

Tanya looked at Loretta and smiled when the smaller woman gestured at Sarah as though presenting a gift. Tanya climbed up onto the table and crawled across to look down at Sarah, then looked at Loretta, almost coquettishly.

'Do you have a pen?' she asked. 'Mine's broken.'

Loretta grinned at her fondly. 'Honey, I've got two!' She handed them over.

Tanya took one in each hand and began to laugh. Sarah stared up at her, still unable to move; the last thing she clearly remembered seeing was Tanya flowing off the table onto her, the pens poised like daggers. Then the points came down.

Elisa screamed at the sight and jumped up from her chair. The scream came from pure rage prompted by jealousy, but it had the same effect as a cry of horror;

staff came running from all directions. Loretta turned on her with a snarl, then moved as far from Tanya as she could.

At first the orderlies came sprinting toward Elisa, but she quickly pointed toward Tanya. Tanya's hands, bloody almost to the elbows, rose again and plunged down, and a spreading pool of blood beckoned. The orderlies changed direction, one of them yelling into his radio for a doctor. Soon there was a cluster of orderlies hauling Tanya off the unconscious Sarah as Tanya screamed furiously and tried to bite.

'She started it!' Elisa said to the orderly who led her away, pointing at Loretta.

'She put Tanya up to it, then she hit Sarah, and then, and then—'

The orderly shushed her and led her to her room, followed by a nurse carrying a syringe full of neomorph.

'She set it up!' Elisa insisted.

'C'mon, honey,' the nurse said, urging Elisa into her room. 'We'll make you feel better.'

'You're not listening!'

And they wouldn't, she knew. No one believed crazy people.

Dr. Simon Ray ran his fingers through his short blond hair, then rested his elbows on his desk and dropped his face into his hands. This was unbelievable.

You'd think Pescadero was some snake pit! How had this happened? Didn't anyone notice how dysfunctional Loretta was? How dangerous Tanya was? How

could they have allowed her to go to the common room?

This was a disaster! He had one patient, a very famous patient at that, laid out with multiple stab wounds and complications to her liver. One patient was accusing another of setting it up and the board was demanding to know why someone as dangerous as Tanya Firkin was mingling with the other patients.

This was worse than a disaster. This was actionable. He sat back with a heavy sigh, resting his head on the back of his chair.

There was a sharp rap on his door, making him start, then the door opened and a tall, thin, middle-aged man walked in.

'Where's my secretary?' Ray asked.

'I've no idea,' the intruder said. 'Off photocopying something, I suppose.' Or she should be: he'd given her a hundred dollars to find a chore that would take her away from her desk for ten minutes.

Ray stood up, not certain what to do. The man radiated confidence, so he wasn't someone's troubled parent and he wasn't dressed like a patient. Then his heart sank. The stranger looked like a lawyer.

'How can I help you?' the doctor asked.

'First by listening to my suggestions, and then by taking them.' The man helped himself to a seat. 'My name is Pool.'

Ray stood for a moment longer, then sat himself. 'Suggestions?' he asked in confusion.

'You've got a disaster on your hands, Doctor,' Pool said.

The doctor studied his visitor, weighing his observation and finding it only a statement of fact. 'Go on,' he invited.

Pool's thin lips quirked in a slight smile. 'My suggestion is that you move Sarah Connor to minimum security while she recovers,' he said. 'And then you should petition to have her moved to a halfway house.'

'I've already asked to have her moved to minimum,' Ray said. 'I don't think it would be good for a patient to be left to recover in the same place where she'd been so badly hurt. Besides, it will be weeks, possibly even months, before she'd be capable of hurting anybody.'

'Which is why the board approved the transfer,' Pool said.

Ray shook his head. 'I haven't heard back yet.'

'They've approved it,' Pool said.

Surprised, Ray studied him for a moment. 'Mr. Pool—

'Just Pool.'

'All right, then. Pool. Just what is your interest in the Connor case?'

'My interest is none of your business,' Pool said, rising. 'And in your own interests I suggest you leave it that way. I do have an interest in seeing to it that a talented physician, such as yourself, achieves the kind of success and recognition

that he deserves. I understand there's going to be an opening at the Glen Ellen Psychiatric Group. I believe you once applied to be an associate there, didn't you?'

The doctor blinked, wondering how this man could know that. 'Uh, yes,' he said. 'It's a very desirable —'

Pool interrupted. 'When Ms. Connor is sufficiently recovered, petition to have her transferred to a halfway house.'

'I think you have an unrealistic idea of how quickly these things happen,' Ray said dismissively.

'Oh, I think you'll find the board most cooperative.' Pool gave him that little smile. 'You do it. And do submit your application to Glen Ellen. Think of how much it will boost your reputation to bring the mad bomber Sarah Connor from madness to sanity in under two years.'

'Do you think she's sane?' Ray asked, genuinely curious.