Date: Mon, 4 Dec 1995 05:36:18 EST Reply-To: Russ McMillan Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Russ McMillan Subject: King for a Day, Part 5/6 King for a Day, Part 5 by Russet McMillan mcmillan@astro.psu.edu Joe dug the rubber point of his cane into the waiting room carpet. "I don't know!" he told the police detective. "Maybe five foot ten, anywhere between twenty and forty, jeans and a leather jacket. He said he wanted the money from the register, but after he shot MacLeod he just turned and ran." "Hair color?" "I couldn't see anything. He had a ski mask on!" Joe shifted his weight. "Shoes? Eye color?" "I didn't notice." "Did he come in a car? A motorcycle? On foot?" "Look, I told you --" Joe broke off as he saw Anne Lindsay enter the room, wearing blood-flecked surgical scrubs. "Excuse me." Anne presented a professional smile to the two police officers. "Mr. MacLeod is doing just fine," she said. "The injury wasn't nearly as serious as we first thought." Joe stiffened in alarm, opened his mouth, and glanced uneasily at the detectives. "I'm sure he'll be able to talk to you soon," Anne continued. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to Mr. Dawson." Her hand clamped onto Joe's elbow with surprising force, and she dragged him into the hallway. "Anne, tell me you didn't --" "What the hell were you doing, Joe? Why did you bring him here?" Anne looked up and down the corridor and lowered her voice a notch. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I had getting him away from the trauma team?" "Anne, no . . . " "I'm not an actress, Joe, and I'm not a con-artist. You can't expect me to fast-talk you out of trouble like this all the time! Why did you bring him here? You're supposed to be the one who knows so much about Immortals!" "Anne, he's not Immortal anymore," Joe blurted. Anne froze. "What?" "He's mortal. That's why I called the ambulance." "That's impossible." "I know it's impossible, but somehow, it happened anyway! He turned mortal, and then he got shot. Now you've got to help him, or he'll die!" Joe tried to shoo her along the corridor. "No . . . no, you've got to be wrong." "I'm not wrong. Go help him!" Anne passed a hand over her face. "Joe, I can't help him. He's already dead." "Then revive him!" Anne caught his wrist, forcing him to stand still. "No. Joe, his heart stopped over twenty minutes ago. He's had no CPR for half that time. He's dead. Unless he's Immortal . . . " she closed her eyes ". . . he's not coming back." "No, dammit! It wasn't supposed to happen this way!" Joe ran a hand through his hair. "Where is he?" "He's -- I put him in a storeroom down the hall. I thought I should take him someplace where nobody would see . . . oh, God, Joe, I killed him!" Joe patted her shoulder and urged her down the hall. "You didn't know, Anne. You were just trying to keep his secret." "Keeping secrets isn't my job, Joe. Saving lives is. I denied treatment to a patient, and now he's dead!" Inside the storeroom, she leaned back against the closed door and put her head in her hands. Joe studied Duncan's still form on the gurney, and laid a tentative finger on his naked, blood-smeared chest. Already it seemed cool to the touch. Pulling away uncomfortably, Joe glanced about at the equipment in the room. "Maybe I can help," he murmured. "What?" "Maybe it's not too late to fix it. An Immortal could still recover from this state --" he waved at the corpse "-- if we can just get him back to normal." "How?" "Reverse the process." Joe set one hand on a narrow cart against the wall. "This is a defibrillator, right?" He frowned. "Does it work like lightning?" "Not really, this is alternating current instead of direct -- Joe, what are you thinking of?" "We have to transfer some of the energy back to him. What happens if you put one of these paddles on him, and one on me?" "Nothing. Unless you're touching each other -- then you both get shocked." "Perfect. That's what we'll do, then." "Joe, it won't do any good to him, and it would probably kill you." "You don't understand, Anne." "Then explain it to me." "There isn't time. Trust me, this is his best chance." Joe hauled a second gurney over next to MacLeod's and lifted himself up onto it. "Joe, I'm not going to risk your life for a chance of saving his. Not even for Duncan." "I won't be in any danger, Anne." Joe took a breath. "I'm Immortal." "What? Duncan never told me --" "I, uh, I asked him not to. Here, look." Joe pulled his coat open to reveal his gashed and bloody shirt. It would have been nice to whip out a sword at this point, but he had forgotten to bring it. Anne put a hand through the hole to touch his unscarred stomach. "Okay," she said slowly. "So it wouldn't kill you. But what makes you think it will help Duncan?" "Because he's _supposed_ to be Immortal. We just need to -- remind his body of that. If we can give him back some of that energy . . . " "You mean the electrical current will carry some of the energy of Immortality along with it?" "Uh . . . yes -- I don't know! I'm not a scientist, Anne. But this is our only chance. We've got to try!" Anne's eyes flickered uncertainly from Joe to Duncan, from one man's bloody shirt to the other's violated flesh. "All right," she said at last. "But, Joe, I swear to you . . . " "What?" "No more keeping secrets. I'm a doctor, not a spy. The next Immortal who comes to my ER gets treated like any other patient, and he can do his own explaining." "That's fair. What do I do?" "Take off your coat and shirt, and lie down." Anne pulled the crash cart into position and prepared the defibrillator, spreading gel on the paddles. "What charge should I use?" Joe swallowed. "The highest," he said recklessly. Anne made a face and twisted the knob. "All right, now grab Duncan's hand. Get his arm to lie along yours. Get as much skin contact as you can." Duncan's arm was flaccid and cool in Joe's grip. He shivered and dug his fingers into the muscle of the dead man's forearm. The defibrillator's whine reached a high pitch and stayed there. "Here goes. You better be right about this, Joe." One paddle loomed over Joe's chest while the other approached Duncan's. Joe opened his mouth to call the whole thing off, then a huge hand grabbed him by the neck and shook him. The cramped room and Anne's anxious face faded to blackness. Duncan sucked in air and opened his eyes, searching immediately for the source of danger even before he could remember how he had died. Anne was standing over him, her eyes crinkled with a smile and her chin trembling. "Welcome back," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "What hap--" Duncan saw the fading mark on his stomach. "I got shot . . . Joe's bar. Ha! I was right! It worked, I came back!" He sat up and laughed with the rush of relief and the fading of his pain. Anne nodded. "Joe was right. It worked." "Joe? No, Joe thought we had to be struck by lightning or something. I figured if I died I would probably --" Duncan froze as he caught sight of the body lying on a table next to him. "Joe?" The Watcher was still and gray-faced. His chest didn't move. "Joe? What did you do to him, Anne?" "I did what he told me to -- I used the defibrillator on both of you. It brought you back." "But he's dead." "He should revive soon," she said, without much conviction. "Oh, no. Anne, Joe isn't Immortal!" She stared at him. "Yes he is. He told me -- he showed me. . ." "He _was_ Immortal, but he gave it back to me!" "What? What is going on here? You two keep telling me different stories --" Duncan pushed himself off the gurney and took her by the shoulders. "Later. I'll explain later, I promise. But now you've got to help Joe." "Um . . . okay." Anne pulled away from him and checked her watch. "Less than three minutes. If we can get his heart started again his chances are good." She bent over Joe's body and gave a precordial thump to his chest, then listened through her stethescope. "I've got to get him out to the ER." Duncan grabbed the head of the gurney. "No, Duncan, you have to get out of here. And watch out for the police detectives, they want to ask you some questions. Just hold the door open for me." Anne pushed the gurney into the hallway, yelling, "Code Blue! I need a team here, now!" =========================================================================