“How do you know this?”
“Look at Ray’s chest,” Delaney indicated to the barreling and extended chest. “It’s big, not because Ray is big, but because it is filled with gas.” She leaned forward placing her head to his chest, then tapped it. “Still there. Which is weird because we expel all oxygen from our body upon death.”
“So … it’s not oxygen in there?”
Delaney shook her head. “No. To breathe, the atmosphere around us needs to be around eighteen percent oxygen. Whatever is happening, methane is replacing the oxygen. Everyone who tried to breathe suffocates, right?”
“Right.”
“But keep in mind, the ratio of oxygen and methane isn’t …” Delaney snapped her finger. “Instant. It’s a fast increase over a minute or two tops. We know that because the firefighter had almost a minute to put on his mask and live. He was able to help people in the first half of the plane. Anyone exposed in the first minute is breathing in the methane while the oxygen level was still semi breathable. Understand?”
“I guess.”
“And whatever this is closes our airways, like it inflames them closed.”
“Like asthma?” Gabe asked.
“Exactly. Ray here had COPD, his airways were already blocked. He also had asthma which inhibited him from exhaling.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters because his airways locked and closed instantly, trapping in a mixture of methane and oxygen. He couldn’t exhale, and he died from suffocation, but not before the methane blacked him out. He never got to the ‘oh my god I can’t breathe stage’.”
“But twenty-two B did?”
“She was able to exhale and then unable to inhale at all. Anyone with Asthma will shut down a lot faster than someone without it. It shows in their face as well. Ray’s mouth wasn’t open and gasping. His eyes didn’t bulge. Too bad everyone couldn’t die like Ray.”
Gabe just stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
“And you were only an assistant?”
“Tech. Fifteen years.”
“Did you ever want to be a medical examiner?”
Delaney nodded. “I did. But I didn’t have the patience for the schooling.”
“Del?” Gary called her name as he emerged into the back. “We have a problem with Lance.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Some sort of reaction.”
She lifted the blanket at Ray’s feet and covered him. “I’ll be back Ray.” Then she stood and walked from the back area.
Gabe looked at Ray, then figured he wasn’t staying, and he followed to see what the problem was.
Tom knew the second he finished talking to Jeff, the captain, something wasn’t right with Lance. The co-pilot had quieted down, biting his tongue on painful cries after he was positioned in the first row. He was even more comfortable when Delaney rigged a way to support his injury with a drink tray and donated belts.
But in the time that Tom handled things in the back and talked to the pilot, Lance declined. He thrashed back and forth, groaning and spewing forth unintelligible words.
Something was up.
He exhaled in relief when he saw Delaney making her way up the aisle. While everyone else scoffed at her as the medical person, Tom had confidence.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Tom just pointed at Lance.
Delaney glanced at Lance and then to Tom. “How long has he been like this?”
Owen answered. “Not long. A few minutes.”
There wasn’t much room in that space between the row and wall. Owen stepped out and Delaney slid in, crouching down by Lance.
“Lance,” she said his name.
Lance mumbled something.
She reached up and touched his head. “He’s flushed and feels warm. 100.2, maybe 99.8.”
Owen chuckled out in disbelief. “Like you can tell that.”
“I was champ in my class, of course that was a while ago, but they called me the human thermometer. Tom.” she glanced up. “Find Trevor, I need the plane’s medical kit. It has an IV bag. I want to run a line and give him some fluids and fever reduction.”
“What about pain?” Owen asked. “He looks in pain.”
“He probably is,” Delaney replied. “Pain can cause a low fever especially if you have inflammation, anything high we would be thinking infection.”
“Can you give him more morphine?” Owen questioned.
“No, I gave him enough already.”
“But you said you don’t know how much to give.”
“I also said, I know how much not to give,” Delaney said. “Trust me, he has enough in him. The fracture is bad. I mean, without an x-ray or cutting him open …” She stopped when Owen cringed. “Sorry. It’s hard to tell how bad it is.”
Tom asked, “Do you think it’s the leg?”
“I had it stabilized,” Delaney replied. “He may have loosened it with all the tossing.” She lifted the blanket, staring at his feet. She had cut off his pant leg earlier to make it easier to stabilize it.
“Remember,” she said. “I gave the disclaimer that healing bones was not my forte.” She raised the blanket more. “Oh, boy.”
“Oh, boy what?” Tom questioned.
“This.” She pointed to the discoloration of his leg that started just above the knee. It encompassed the side and was a reddish purple. “Decedent has significant …”
“Decedent?” Owen cut her off.
“Sorry. Habit. Patient … he has significant pooling.”
“That bruise?” Tom asked.
“Pooling. He’s not moving.” Delaney explained. “Like when someone dies, gravity takes over. But this isn’t caused by death.”
“Obviously,” Owen said. “So is it odd for the bruise to pool?”
“It’s not a bruise.” Delaney stood. “The femoral artery runs close to the femur, down the leg. It’s a major artery as you know. The deep femoral artery is located by where he had the break. One of the dangers of breaking the femur is internal bleeding. The artery punctures even slightly and blood
