Blue Clouds by Patricia Rice

better than any test mankind can develop. And as much as I disliked it, I worked enough emergency room shifts to recognize drugs when I see them, so don’t bother with those either. This is a family outing, and if you need sedation for a family outing, we don’t need you.”
    Brown drew himself up in an intimidating stance that should have sent her screaming down the hall, given that he could have bench-pressed her just as easily as weights.
    â€œI don’t do drugs, Miss Know-It-All, and I ain’t about to hurt that kid none neither, and just you remember it.”
    Well, perhaps she had been just a little hasty in calling this one, Pippa reflected as she took a step backward. Nah, she decided a moment later in Brown’s own inimitable words as she watched him rumble down the hallway, book in hand—in a household of egotists, maniacs, and admitted alcoholics, she had to give as good as she got.
    She had learned something about survival in these past months.

Chapter 9
    â€œWhy don’t you just die, Seth?”
    The voice whispered sibilantly through sluggish brain cells. The steady drip-drip that had filled untold nights and days registered more clearly than the whisperer. The drip had provided his only companionship in the absence of human voices. Sweat broke out on his brow as he struggled to understand the whispers.
    â€œIf you died, it would make life easier for all of us, Seth—for me, for your son, for your employees, for everyone. Even your mother would be happier.”
    Some word or inflection in this string of sounds connected. Urgency gripped his breathing. He struggled to recognize the voice, but pain shot like an arrow bolt through his head, driving conscious thought into hiding again.
    â€œI wonder what would happen if I pulled out this little needle in your arm?” the voice asked wonderingly.
    The sheer shock of that innocent tone rocketed another warning through his brain. Again, sluggish brain cells fought for coherence. The drip-drip echoed louder. A siren in the distance screamed closer. Only sound registered. Blackness wrapped the void of his consciousness.
    â€œOr what if I just loosened it a little? I don’t suppose you would be so obliging as to knock it free, would you? You were never obliging in your whole life. I’m not sure you even know the rest of us exist.”
    Bitterness roiled up inside of him, an ancient bitterness accompanied by a deep despair.
    â€œThe only thing that ever interested you was your damned work. Do you see any of your books sitting at your bedside now? If I didn’t have to pretend concern in case you die, I wouldn’t be here either. If you dare live, I swear I’ll take your son away.”
    Fury sprang full blown through his entire core, parting the bitterness and despair like storm clouds flung by the wind. His son! What had they done to his son? Where was Chad? He couldn’t think, couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t move, but he fought for consciousness. The urge to grab the whisperer by the throat surged through him.
    â€œI could loosen that for you,” the voice said thoughtfully. “I could tell them it bothered you and I just meant to help. Do you know what you’ve done to your son, you bastard? Do you have any idea?”
    Icy fingers gripped his arm. He could feel his arm. He stretched his fingers, then balled them into a fist as unseen hands worked the strap until it loosened. Pain shot straight through every muscle. The word “Chad!” screamed in his throat. He couldn’t persuade the sound past his tongue. The woolly haze of drugs seeped through his brain again, but the terrifying emotions wouldn’t die. He fought against the drugs and the pain.
    â€œYou’ve turned Chad into a vegetable,” the voice continued pleasantly, relentlessly. “He’ll never walk again. Maybe never talk. It would have been better if you had killed him outright. It would