Autopsy of a Mind

I could feel someone pull me off the sick bastard.

"Dr. Butler, Miss Lewis is asking for you!" someone screamed. Reason slowly seeped into my mind and I turned slowly towards the source of the voice.

I stiffly turned towards Evie and found her being attended to by two paramedics. I had to slap myself to control my thoughts as I kneeled beside her.

"How is she looking?" I asked, my voice shaking. The paramedic, who was busy wrapping a tourniquet around my injured thigh.

"She is losing blood because of the drugs in her system. It has reduced clotting of blood cells and therefore she is at higher risk at the moment," he said without looking at me.

"She is going to be okay, right?" I gulped.

"Yes. Once we have her in the hospital and ween her off the drugs, we will have stabilized her. I will need you to accompany me," he said quietly.

I blinked but nodded. I looked around the room and saw the people lying on the floor. "What about them?" I asked finally.

The paramedic looked around. "They were shot strategically it looks. They should be fine when we get the bullets out," he assured. He patted me on the shoulder and called the other man to transfer Evie onto a bed.

"I'll help!" I volunteered immediately. My vision blurred as moisture poured out of me. There was relief, but also fear that this was not the end.

I looked at Evie's glassy eyes and felt a sob rip through my throat. "Evie, can you hear me?" I asked once we had transferred her onto the bed. I cradled her face. I knew she was barely conscious of the pain, but the paramedic had asked me to check on her once in a while. It was better if we transported her to the hospital while she was awake.

She squeaked, the sound making my heart ache. She was in visible pain but they couldn't medicate her or alleviate it because they didn't know what drugs they had pumped in her or how long she hadn't consumed any drug.

Without the full knowledge, any medication they gave could push her to death.

"I'm right here. I found you, see?" I told her. There was no smugness in my voice or victory. I wanted to inflict the same wound on me as punishment.

How I had boasted of being a genius. Of solving every case. But I couldn't solve something so simple.

"I shot," she said, her voice low and wavering.

"I know. You did so well. This was your first time shooting at a person, right?" I asked. I patted her shoulder, trying to keep her awake. "You could have died but you only incapacitated them."

"Mm. I'm free," she said. A small, pained smile overcame her lips.

"Yes. We got him. We got them all. Once you feel better, I will tell you everything, okay?" I assured her.

"Director-General," she mumbled.

"Yes. It was his son," I answered. So intelligent. "Don't worry. We trapped him. They won't get away with any of those crimes," I told her.

Evie was already unconscious when we reached the hospital. The beds were wheeled in, all emergency cases. Gene received a full body check-up and her parents filed into the hospital room to make sure where she was. They glanced at me standing outside Evie's room and came over to thank me.

"I heard your fiancé saved my daughter," the mother sobbed as she cradled my hand. I nodded stiffly but didn't respond. A mean comment was lurking at the tip of my tongue. I was not proud of it.

I heard the buzz of people inside Evie's room, the panic in the doctors and I couldn't think of a single reason why I should speak nicely to them.

"Thank you so much!" she cried. The father seemed to have sensed my discomfort and pulled the mother away.

I looked towards the room Jade had been taken in. It was a more serene picture in there. The doctors asked her questions and performed the sexual assault tests. She looked defeated but there was still a spark of life in her.

Right down the hall, Bernard Page and Lucy Page were kept in one room, handcuffed to the bed after emergency surgery to take out the bullets had been performed. Guards waited outside, prim and proper, looking around for possible threats.

At the very end of the hall, in a VIP room was Benny Phillips. He was still the Director General's son and so far, the police officers hadn't questioned anyone and found him guilty of being one of the assailants.

I sank to the floor and waited patiently for them to tell me she was fully conscious. I wasn't allowed inside. Who knows what they were doing to her in there?

It felt like an eternity before I felt a pat on my shoulder. I looked up to find Nash.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked calmly. His eyes held pity.

I shook my head in response. "I can't possibly be okay. She is still sleeping," I told him. "She should have been awake already, but she keeps sleeping."

Nash sighed. "Sebastian, you know that the body is not the only thing that controls us. She needs to sleep. She needs to process what happened," Nash soothed.

"She shot all of them," I told him. "She didn't shoot to kill them even though they had guns." I hung my head in defeat.

"She didn't want to die, Sebastian!" he told me. He was shaking my shoulder, trying to make me listen.

"How do you know that?" I asked defiantly.

"I sat in on Jade Walsh and Gene Winters' interviews. They painted a very vivid picture of what happened," he told me in the lowest voice. "Evie had only one aim: get all of them out of there alive. She assured Gene and Jade everything would be okay and she knew they wouldn't kill her. That's why…" he trailed off.

"Her reckless streak. It scares me. I thought it was getting better after her sessions but… how did her instincts not make her think of herself first?" I questioned. "She… she is so preoccupied with not becoming a monster that she didn't kill them. It was self-defense, she knows that but she still didn't."

Nash sighed. "She would never be able to forgive herself. Even if they are evil incarnate, she couldn't kill them. It would destroy her."

Stupid Evie.

"She watched so many people die… she doesn't look at death the same way as others do. If you give her a dilemma, she tries to debunk it and save everyone. That is how Evie is. She mourns everyone."

I shook my head. "Why can't she be selfish? Others who undergo a trauma or go to the brink of death… become selfish… they are violent. But not her. She's always so scared she will hurt someone…"

I don't know how long I cried, but Nash accompanied me throughout.

It was the middle of the night when Nash brought in packets of food. "I asked someone from the station to send over the food I bought," he said with a smile. "See? We can eat it with her in front of us."

He placed the boxes in front of me. "She can't eat because she is on intravenous medicines and saline, but we need to eat, right?" he joked.

I sniffed as I nodded. "What happened to Billy Phillips?" I had forgotten all about it.

"You have another solved cold case under your belt. I spoke to the lawyers. They are ready to waive trials and admit all counts of murder. I dangled the carrot in front of him: if he tells me everything about Benny's movements and the things he has cleaned up, I would plead with the prosecutors and judges to forego the death penalty."

"And he said everything?" I asked. "I thought he was an affectionate father." I scoffed. "He saw his son as a location to show off his power. When said son went out of control, he must have felt a mixture of pride and fear that he would be found out. He didn't want to die, so he chose to rat out his son. That is good for us," I analyzed.

"And it's all because of your brain. I don't know how you make connections like this, but you did so well. If you keep this up, they are going to transfer you to the capital to work for the central investigation bureau," he frowned. "What will I do then?" he asked.

"You could just come along," I shrugged. I looked over at Evie. "She will need time off. A lot of time off. I don't even know if she will ever be able to work in the field again."

I shook my head at the thought.

"I highly doubt that would happen. The… research assistant position at the central research institute… I wrote her a recommendation letter for it. Dr. Singh did the same. If she gets through… she can get away from direct cases and focus on getting her Ph.D. What do you think?"

I didn't have an opinion on that. "It's her decision to make," I told him softly. "If she doesn't want to work anymore… I'll go along with her. I don't care as long as she is healthy."

As long as she is alive and well, I didn't care for anything else. I had just learned what those books glorified. It was a hard pill to swallow.