Purification

Chapter 11
Panic

Chapter Description: Scott races home to save Tegan before it's too late.

This chapter may seem to be a conclusion but it is not. There are still some real twists and turns to come in the next couple chapters. Note here ’tea’ means dinner in NZ. This is not to be confused with morning tea or afternoon tea which are snacks. None of them actually include drinking any tea.

XI

Scott raced across the city in panic. He’d tried his cell phone again as soon as he’d cleared the Waitaks but the overwhelming number of calls by desperate Aucklanders had crashed both the Telecom and Vodafone cell networks. There was no getting through to Tegan by phone. Worse, it was taking him far longer than normal to make his way back south. Auckland’s motorway network had been designed only to carry people to the city centre, not from the western suburbs to the southern suburbs. Instead Scott was forced to navigate a confounding maze of clogged avenues winding through the suburban landscape.

It seemed everyone in the city was trying to get home all at once. The roads were absolutely jammed with traffic. Scott’s siren proved useless in the grid-lock. He made little more progress than the civilian motorists trapped on those streets. Scott was at ground zero of the disaster, right in the midst of the West Auckland suburbs where the tainted water was obliterating people’s minds by the thousand. Adults in dishevelled clothing or no clothing at all crept and toddled around front lawns and down footpaths, crying uselessly for their parents or anyone to change their soiled underwear. At least a few had wandered into the streets only worsening the traffic problems.

In the back seat Scott’s prisoner was crying up a storm himself. Scott didn’t have time to undo the handcuffs which were clearly unnecessary now, so Van Meter was left to flail uselessly across the seat. The former genius cried and wailed, salty tears staining his cheeks red as he sniffled, mucus running freely out of his nose and over his lips. His pants were soaked with urine and stank of more than that. He was clearly very uncomfortable, banging his now shoeless feet against the window and door in a tantrum. Scott just ignored the man-baby’s anguished cries. He was focused on getting home.

**

Tegan Newcomb had enjoyed a lovely afternoon tending to her garden and then painting. Thinking about what her husband and his missing partner were going through was just too disturbing to focus on. Since she couldn’t do anything about it, she couldn’t dwell on it either. Scott would figure it out, he always did.

The sun was getting low in the sky though and Tegan was getting hungry for some tea. So she finally packed up her easel, pallet and brushes, emptied out the dirty brush cleaning water and headed inside. Walking through the sliding glass door into the kitchen she noticed that the answering machine light was off. Picking up the phone she got no dial tone. “Damn, working on the lines again?” she asked to herself.

Shrugging she hung the phone up and went to the sink, turning on the hot tap. She waited a moment for the water to warm up, then plunged her hands into the water. Tegan instantly recoiled, shaking her hands in the air. “Shit,” she muttered, turning on the cold water tap as well.

After checking that the water was no longer scalding Tegan proceeded to vigorously cleanse her hands of the accumulated soil and paint. Done with her hands she dried them on a washcloth and grabbed a glass from the counter, filling it with cold water from the tap. Tegan pulled out the makings for some pasta. As she laid them on the counter she noticed her cell phone lying on the counter top. Picking it up she walked back to the sink and grabbed the water in her other hand, taking a big gulp of the cool liquid as she flipped the phone open.

**

“Damn it!” Scott cursed as he slammed on the brakes.

A young girl had just walked right in front of his car, blocking his way. Scott leaned on the horn, trying to shoo her out of his path. But the girl just started to cry, remaining in his path. The car behind him was too close for him to reverse. With no other options Scott threw the car in park and jumped out. He’d have to move the girl out of the way himself.

She was a pitiful sight. The girl was about 12 or 13 years old and was wearing a school uniform. Well, what had been a uniform anyway. She still had one black leather shoe, but the other was missing, her white ankle sock blackened and holly. Her hair was messy and tangled, he green school jumper ripped, skirt askew. The girl was crying, staring up at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes. She looked dazed and overwhelmed. Scott tried to coax her to the footpath. “Please honey, you need to move,” he urged.

The girl didn’t seem to understand. “Wan’ mummy,” she mumbled, chewing on strands of her tangled hair and playing with her stretched out jumper.

“She’s over there sweetie,” Scott lied, pointing to the footpath.

The girl’s eyes lit up and she smiled. It was a lovely smile, innocent and trusting. Scott felt all the more awful seeing it, knowing he was lying to her. For all he knew her mum could have been creeping around the street on hands and knees in no condition to ever care for her daughter again. And it was all his fault for not preventing it. Nevertheless family came first and he needed to reach Tegan now. So he guided the lost little girl to the footpath and abandoned her there, jumping back in his car and flooring it. He couldn’t bear to look back.

**

Tegan finished the water in one go. She’d been very thirsty. The cell phone was indicating she had a dozen voicemails so she dialled ?717’ to hear the messages. Unfortunately it seemed unable to connect. Groaning, she tried again, walking to the front door to check the mail. Twice more she tried to get through but all in vain. She gave up and decided to try again later, swinging open the front door.

Tegan was surprised to find a small package left on the doorstep. It was covered in bright red wrapping paper with a delightful pink bow on the top. Tegan smiled knowingly. Of course Scott would try to make amends for not spending time with her today. He worked too much, but he always tried to make up for those failings. Tegan picked up the package and took it inside, wondering who he’d had to co-opt to get it dropped off all the way out here.

There was no card with the package, nothing to indicate what was inside. But then Scott always did like a little mystery in romance. Tegan found that quite endearing. “Well Scott, let’s see what you got me,” she said to herself, undoing the ribbon and removing the top.

There were only two things in the box and the one that caught her attention first was a photograph taped to the side. Tegan leaned in closer to make out the unfamiliar woman in the photo. It was then that the box seemed to explode. White powder blasted Tegan in the face and she recoiled in shock.

“What the hell?!” she screamed, dropping the box to the ground.

After the moment of surprise passed Tegan knew exactly what was happening to her. Scott had shared his work stories with her on occasion and she knew what happened to the victims found with a coating of whitish powder in their faces. She knew she about to become nothing more than an oversized little baby. All that she knew, all that she loved was about to be lost. There’d be no more painting, no more gardening. Yet the only thing she could really regret was not being able to talk to Scott one more time. She wanted so badly to call him now before it was too late. She tried to stand, to open the phone again and ring him. But already the euphoric tingles were spreading through her body and the thick fog clouding her mind. She couldn’t recall how to work the phone, then she found the numbers unrecognisable, and finally she lost track of what the thing she was holding was, and what she’d wanted to use it for. In the end all Tegan was able to do was sit on her bum and rub her feet across the carpet, eyes rolling back and a moan of pleasure escaping her lips as she surrendered to the ecstasy of the mind-wipe.

**

Scott kept his foot to the floor all the way down his street. His house was the last one on the country lane before it entered empty farmland. The cruiser rumbled down his gravel drive, kicking up a cloud of dust behind it. He stopped with a screech of brakes just short of the garage door. Tegan’s little Toyota Vitz was still parked in the drive so there was no doubt she was home. Scott left the cruiser running in his haste, dashing to the front door and into his home.

“Tegan, it’s me! Can you hear me?” he called desperately, looking about for any movement.

There was no reply and Scott hoped that meant she was still outside, safe in her garden. As Scott stood silent for a moment he made out a noise. There was a thumping coming from nearby. Scott followed the sound into the living room. As he rounded the couch he saw the source of the noise and his heart sank. Tegan was lying on her back on the carpet, drumming her feet idly on the floor. Scott could immediately see the blankness in her eyes. Even if she hadn’t been gnawing on her cell phone, slobber coating the plastic, he’d have known from her eyes that her intelligence was long gone.

Scott dropped to her side and pulled Tegan into his arms, rocking her back and forth and sobbing like a baby himself. “Oh sweetie, I am so sorry. I’m... so... so sorry honey,” he managed to whisper to her.

Tegan seemed confused by his tears. She sucked on her fingers for comfort and snuggled closer to her husband. She had no words to comfort him with anymore. All she could do was cuddle closer.

For several minutes they sat there together on the carpet, Scott assuring her over and over that he’d take care of her, that he’d never leave her. His assurances made no difference to Tegan of course, her language comprehension skills completely eliminated. His loving tone and close physical contact conveyed his meaning though.

As Scott went to find her some clean undies for Tegan to replace her soiled ones, he found the gift box dropped on the floor. He was careful not to get too close, but he made out the photo. He recognised the woman’s face instantly. It had been in his mind ever since Van Meter told him who he was. The woman in the photo was Hannah Van Meter, the woman who’s murderer Scott had failed to capture. One woman who wasn’t avenged because of choices Scott had to make about what cases to prioritise. Now his wife had met a similar fate due to another one of his choices.

Scott looked back at his wife, now playing with her own hair. The time for revenge had passed. Van Meter had denied him that and he’d never be able to forgive him for that. Without revenge Scott could only focus on caring for Tegan now. He’d make that his new purpose and maybe someday he’d be able to forgive himself for failing her.

To Be Continued...