Blood of the Ancient - The Helix Rebellion saga #1

Chapter 29

The crew were sat in their basement garage, slumped on a big couch that Willard had recently purchased to accommodate the increasing number of people that had been staying of late. The terrible news that he had just conveyed, hadn't quite sunk in yet with the others. Ezra had taken it the hardest, as he blamed himself for not being around to keep watch. It was his first and foremost rule as a leader. You comprehensively look after your own crew and family, before embarking upon any other actions. Although Willard had delivered the news gently, he had given the impression that he was quite accepting of the recent heart attack that had taken Oscar's life.

On the morning after his admittance to the ward, Staff Nurse Sarha O'Donnel had begun her early shift at the hospital, and went to check in with her first patient of the day, Oscar. At first glance she believed him to be sleeping. He was lay comfortably in the bed, with his hands resting by his side. A quick tremor ran through her body when she noticed the heart monitor had been switched off, but wasn't entirely worried, as it would automatically activate an alarm at the nurse's station in the event that it was accidentally knocked off. One of the nurses must have removed it through the night she thought, although that would seem strange, as it wasn't standard practice to remove the heart monitor until the on-duty doctor gave the nod the following morning. When Staff Nurse O'Donnel asked the others who or why it had been removed, not one of them had a valid answer or reason. When she hastily returned to his bedside and tried to rouse him, she finally realised that he was deceased. An intermediate examination was carried out by the on-call doctor, before he underwent a more in-depth post-mortem at a later date. It was agreed locally that the man had died unexpectedly from a cardiac arrest. His death certificate stated the cause as sudden cardiac death. They could only estimate his time of death as sometime between midnight and four in the morning, or in other words, the time frame between the last nurse visit and when Sarha found him at the beginning of her shift.

"I can't believe this shit," Ezra said, depression filled his words. "That slimy bastard sent someone in to murder him."

"We don't know that Ez," Rhea began. "They said it was a heart attack. They would surely know if it seemed suspicious, wouldn't they?"

"Maybe they do know," Ezra hunched forwards, wincing as his new bandage nipped at his chest. "And what could they say if they realised anyway?" He shrugged a shoulder. "A'int exactly gonna say to the family, we're real sorry, we seem to have let him die when he was perfectly fine earlier, someone must have snuck in and murdered him without us knowing' are they?"

"Ezra..." Rhea gave him a pitying glance.

"What?" He scowled. "I'm telling ya, some bastard murdered my boy, and someone is gonna damned well pay for it!"

"Ezra's right," Symon interjected. They turned to look at him, puzzlement on both of their faces. After straightening his glasses, he continued. "There's a certain solution, when injected into a patient's body, which can be used to temporarily swell and therefore block the coronary arteries leading to the heart, preventing a supply of oxygen. The result of such an action would injure the heart beyond repair, paving the way for a heart attack, which would inevitably end with a cardiac arrest."

"But doesn't that fit into the category of suspicious?" Rhea asked.

"Potentially, yes," He answered. "However, the solution only temporarily swells the coronary arteries. Once the swelling has ceased, the body returns to normal and is left with the typical signs of an arrest. Ergo, eliminating any reason to suspect foul play."

"Great Lunis..." Rhea cursed.

"My father died of a heart attack," Logan said, walking in from the rear of the room. He joined the others who were congregated in the middle of the garage floor before continuing. "Could that also have been staged?" He was staring at an uncomfortable looking Symon.

"Erm, I guess it's possible Logan." He was gesturing with opened hands.

Logan ran his hands roughly over his tired face and head. "I should have known," He said. "They must have come for me at the bakery, and asked my father where I was," He began repeatedly hitting himself on the head. "Dad, I'm so sorry..."

"We can't know for sure Logan, perhaps in the case of your father, it actually was a heart attack?" Symon said, trying to soften the blow.

"What a damned mess." Ezra growled.

Logan turned to the wounded man on the couch. "What do we do, Ezra?"

The big man turned to face his younger comrade, an angry, unrecognisable look on his sour face. "There's only one thing left for us to do, kid." They all understood his undeniably obvious meaning.

Logan nodded in compliance. "When do we strike?"

A malevolent grin, more befitting of the man took over Ezra's ugly face. He looks at Logan, certain with his aid they will succeed. "We hit the bastards tomorrow morning!"