Hideaway by Dean R. Koontz

the dead.

He stepped out of a moon-shadow that resembled a giant, canted, broken

wheel, and he headed toward the moldering structure where he kept the

dead. His collection.

3

“Sixty-four minutes,” Gina said, consulting her Rolex with the pink

leather band. “This one could get messy.”

Jonas couldn’t believe how fast time was passing, just speeding by,

surely faster than usual, as if there had been some freak acceleration

of the continuum. But it was always the same in situations like this,

when the difference between life and death was measured in minutes and

seconds.

He glanced at the blood, more blue than red, moving through the

clear-plastic exsanguination tube into the purring bypass machine. The

average human body contained five liters of blood. Before the

resuscitation team was done with Harrison, his five liters would have

been repeatedly recycled, heated, and filtered.

Ken Nakamura was at a light board, studying head and chest X rays and

body-sonograms that had been taken in the air ambulance during its

hundred-eighty-mile-per-hour journey from the base of the San

Bernardinos to the hospital in Newport Beach. Kari was bent close to

the patient’s face, examining his eyes through an ophthalmoscope,

checking for indications of dangerous cranial pressure from a buildup of

fluid on the brain.

With Helga’s assistance, Jonas had filled a series of syringes with

large doses of various free-radical neutralizers. Vitamins E and C were

effective scavengers and had the advantage of being natural substances,

but he also intended to administer a lazeroid-tirilazad mesylate-and

phenyl tertiary butyl nitrone.

Free radicals were fast-moving, unstable molecules that ricocheted

through the body, causing chemical reactions that damaged most cells

with which they came into contact. Current theory held that they were

the primary cause of human aging, which explained why natural scavengers

like vitamins E and C boosted the immune system and, in long-term users,

promoted a more youthful appearance and higher energy levels. Free

radicals were a by-product of ordinary metabolic processes and were

always present in the system. But when the body was deprived of

oxygenated blood for an extended period, even with the protection of

hypothermia, huge pools of free radicals were created in excess of

anything the body had to deal with nsrmally. When the heart was started

again, renewed circulation swept those destructive molecules through the

brain, where their impact was devastating.

The vitamin and chemical scavengers would deal with the free radicals

before they could cause any irreversible damage. At least that was the

hope.

Jonas inserted the three syringes in different ports that fed the main

intravenous line in the patient’s thigh, but he did not yet inject the

contents.

“Sixty-five minutes,” Gina said.

A long time dead, Jonas thought.

It was very near the record for a successful reanimation.

In spite of the cool air, Jonas felt sweat breaking out on his scalp,

under his thinning hair. He always got too involved, emotional. Some

of his colleagues disapproved of his excessive empathy; they believed a

judicious perspective was insured by the maintenance of a professional

distance between the doctor and those he treated. But no patient was

just a patient.

Every one of them was loved and needed by someone. Jonas was acutely

aware that if he failed a patient, he was failing more than one person,

bringing pain and suffering to a wide network of relatives and friends.

Even when he was treating someone like Harrison, of whom Jonas knew

virtually nothing, he began to imagine the lives interlinking with that

of the patient, and he felt responsible to them as much as he would have

if he had known them intimately.

“The guy looks clean,” Ken said, turning away from the X rays and

sonograms. “No broken bones. No internal injuries.”

“But those sonograms were taken after he was dead,” Jonas noted, “so

they don’t show functioning organs.”

“Right. We’ll snap some pictures again when he’s reanimated, make sure

nothing’s ruptured, but it looks good so far.”

Straightening up from her examination of the dead man’s eyes, Kari

Dovell said, “There might be concussion to deal with. Hard to say from

what I can see.”

“Sixty-six minutes.”

“Seconds count here. Be ready, people,” Jonas said, although he knew

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