Heart Failure by Richard L. Mabry

Author:Richard L. Mabry [Mabry, Richard L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General, Medical, Christian, Suspense, ebook, book
ISBN: 9781401687106
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2013-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Carrie’s first thought was that she must have overslept. She didn’t recall hearing the alarm, and she wasn’t sure what day it was, but there was a sense that she needed to get up, get out of bed right away. She’d be late to work.

She opened her eyes, blinked twice to clear the haze that clouded her vision, and discovered she wasn’t in her bed. This wasn’t even her room. Carrie turned a fraction to the right, but stopped as little men with hammers began a percussion concert inside her head.

“So you’re awake.”

The voice was familiar, even if the setting wasn’t. Carrie cut her eyes to the right while keeping her head still and got a glimpse of Adam leaning over the rail on the side of her bed. In the background she heard phones ring, conversations in hushed tones, the squeak of rubber soles on waxed tile. She sniffed. Yes, there it was, faint in the background—a familiar, antiseptic scent. She was in a hospital.

“Adam—” She tried to clear her throat. “Adam,” she croaked once more.

“Here.” He ladled a spoonful of ice chips into her mouth. “Suck on these. The doctor says if you tolerate them, I can give you a few sips of water.”

Doctor? She sucked on the ice, swallowed, and tried again. “How did I get here? The last thing I recall, we were sitting in my car in the hospital parking lot.”

“Maybe I can help you remember.”

Another familiar voice, one that seemed less out of place. Carrie managed to turn her head fractionally until she could see Phil Rushton standing beside Adam. “Phil, what’s going on?”

This Phil was nothing like the cool, calm cardiac surgeon she knew. His eyes were red-rimmed. Faint stubble marked his face. He looked as though he’d been on an all-night bender. “You’ve been here a little less than six hours. He—” He nodded to indicate Adam. “He carried you into the ER about nine last night. You’d been shot.”

Carrie did a quick mental inventory. Nothing hurt other than her head. She wiggled her hands and feet. “Shot! Where? How?”

Phil frowned, obviously unhappy at the memories of the event. “You were in your car in the parking lot when a gunshot through the driver’s side window struck you in the head. The bullet plowed a furrow in your scalp. Of course, the wound bled profusely, as scalp injuries do.”

“Did I have surgery?”

“No, you were lucky. The bullet followed the contour of the skull without entering it. It gave you a concussion, but nothing worse. Nothing that should cause lasting damage.”

Carrie moved her left hand toward her head but stopped when she felt the tug of an IV line. She inched her right hand upward and felt a bandage on her head. “Did you . . . did you have to—?”

Phil managed a smile. “No, we didn’t shave any of your hair, although the bullet burned a crease up there. I think you can cover it when you style your hair.”

“Is her memory loss a problem?” Adam asked.

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