Maura. I’m cornered with a madwoman who can’t be talked into
surrender. She could hear the woman’s breathing accelerating to frantic whimpers, could feel
the fear running through the woman’s arm, like a current through high-voltage wires. She felt
herself being dragged inexorably toward a bloody conclusion, and she could almost see it
through the eyes of the cops who were now inching forward. The blast of the woman’s gun,
the gore exploding from the hostage’s head. The inevitable hail of bullets that would finally end
it. Until then, the police were stalemated. And Jane Doe, trapped in the jaws of panic, was just
as helpless and unable to change the course of events.
I’m the only one who can change things. Now is the time to do it.
Maura took a breath, released it. As the air whooshed from her lungs she let her muscles go
slack. Her legs collapsed, and she sagged to the floor.
The woman gave a grunt of surprise, struggling to support Maura. But a limp body is heavy,
and already her hostage was sliding to the ground, her human shield collapsing. Suddenly
Maura was free, rolling sideways. She wrapped her arms around her head and curled into a
ball, waiting for the blast of gunfire. But all she heard was running footsteps and shouts.
“Shit. I can’t get a clean shot!”
“Everyone, move the fuck out of the way!”
A hand grabbed her, shook her. “Lady? Are you okay? Are you okay ?”
Trembling, she finally looked up into the face of the cop. She heard radios crackle, and sirens
keened like women grieving the dead.
“Come on, you need to move away.” The cop grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She
was shaking so violently she could barely stand, so he slung his arm around her waist and
guided her toward the exit. “All of you!” he yelled at the bystanders. “Get out of the building
now. ”
Maura glanced back. Jane Doe was nowhere to be seen.
“Can you walk?” the cop asked.
Unable to say a word, she merely nodded.
“Then go! We need everyone to evacuate. You don’t want to be in here.”
Not when it’s about to get bloody.
She took a few steps forward. Glanced back one last time, and saw that the cop was already
moving down the hallway. A sign pointed to the wing where Jane Doe was about to make her
last stand.
Diagnostic Imaging.
Jane Rizzoli startled awake and blinked, momentarily confused, at the ceiling. She had not
expected to doze off, but the exam table was surprisingly comfortable, and she was tired; she
had not been sleeping well for the past few nights. She looked at the clock on the wall and
realized that she’d been left alone for over half an hour. How much longer was she supposed to
wait? She let another five minutes go by, her irritation mounting.
Okay, I’ve had it. I’m going to find out what’s taking so long. And I’m not going to wait for the
wheelchair.
She climbed off the table and her bare feet slapped onto the cold floor. She took two steps, and
realized that her arm was still tethered by the IV to a plastic bag of saline. She moved the bag to
a rolling IV pole and wheeled it to the door. Looking into the hallway, she saw no one. Not a
nurse or an orderly or an X-ray tech.
Well, this was reassuring. They’d forgotten all about her.
She headed down the windowless hall, pushing her IV pole, the wheels shimmying as they
rolled over linoleum. She passed one open doorway, then another, and saw vacant procedure
tables, deserted rooms. Where had everyone gone? In the short time she’d been sleeping, they
had all disappeared.
Has it really been only half an hour?
She halted in that empty hallway, gripped by the sudden, Twilight Zone thought that while
she’d been asleep, everyone else in the world had vanished. She glanced up and down the
hallway, trying to remember the route back to the waiting area. She had not been paying
attention when the technician had wheeled her into the procedure room. Opening a door,
surrender. She could hear the woman’s breathing accelerating to frantic whimpers, could feel
the fear running through the woman’s arm, like a current through high-voltage wires. She felt
herself being dragged inexorably toward a bloody conclusion, and she could almost see it
through the eyes of the cops who were now inching forward. The blast of the woman’s gun,
the gore exploding from the hostage’s head. The inevitable hail of bullets that would finally end
it. Until then, the police were stalemated. And Jane Doe, trapped in the jaws of panic, was just
as helpless and unable to change the course of events.
I’m the only one who can change things. Now is the time to do it.
Maura took a breath, released it. As the air whooshed from her lungs she let her muscles go
slack. Her legs collapsed, and she sagged to the floor.
The woman gave a grunt of surprise, struggling to support Maura. But a limp body is heavy,
and already her hostage was sliding to the ground, her human shield collapsing. Suddenly
Maura was free, rolling sideways. She wrapped her arms around her head and curled into a
ball, waiting for the blast of gunfire. But all she heard was running footsteps and shouts.
“Shit. I can’t get a clean shot!”
“Everyone, move the fuck out of the way!”
A hand grabbed her, shook her. “Lady? Are you okay? Are you okay ?”
Trembling, she finally looked up into the face of the cop. She heard radios crackle, and sirens
keened like women grieving the dead.
“Come on, you need to move away.” The cop grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She
was shaking so violently she could barely stand, so he slung his arm around her waist and
guided her toward the exit. “All of you!” he yelled at the bystanders. “Get out of the building
now. ”
Maura glanced back. Jane Doe was nowhere to be seen.
“Can you walk?” the cop asked.
Unable to say a word, she merely nodded.
“Then go! We need everyone to evacuate. You don’t want to be in here.”
Not when it’s about to get bloody.
She took a few steps forward. Glanced back one last time, and saw that the cop was already
moving down the hallway. A sign pointed to the wing where Jane Doe was about to make her
last stand.
Diagnostic Imaging.
Jane Rizzoli startled awake and blinked, momentarily confused, at the ceiling. She had not
expected to doze off, but the exam table was surprisingly comfortable, and she was tired; she
had not been sleeping well for the past few nights. She looked at the clock on the wall and
realized that she’d been left alone for over half an hour. How much longer was she supposed to
wait? She let another five minutes go by, her irritation mounting.
Okay, I’ve had it. I’m going to find out what’s taking so long. And I’m not going to wait for the
wheelchair.
She climbed off the table and her bare feet slapped onto the cold floor. She took two steps, and
realized that her arm was still tethered by the IV to a plastic bag of saline. She moved the bag to
a rolling IV pole and wheeled it to the door. Looking into the hallway, she saw no one. Not a
nurse or an orderly or an X-ray tech.
Well, this was reassuring. They’d forgotten all about her.
She headed down the windowless hall, pushing her IV pole, the wheels shimmying as they
rolled over linoleum. She passed one open doorway, then another, and saw vacant procedure
tables, deserted rooms. Where had everyone gone? In the short time she’d been sleeping, they
had all disappeared.
Has it really been only half an hour?
She halted in that empty hallway, gripped by the sudden, Twilight Zone thought that while
she’d been asleep, everyone else in the world had vanished. She glanced up and down the
hallway, trying to remember the route back to the waiting area. She had not been paying
attention when the technician had wheeled her into the procedure room. Opening a door,
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