Nothing Shocks Like an Exposed Secret
A Story Character Shares His Experience
A pint of blood hurled my life into chaos. I, Ridge Warner, wasn’t the blood’s recipient. The outcome proved much worse than any disease I might’ve received through tainted blood.
Here is what happened. A competitor in the winter Olympics shot my fiancée, Angel Meade. I gave blood to save her. The Beijing hospital’s lab tested a sample. The analysis exposed a secret related to an event before my birth.
A lab tech showed the report to Angel while I retrieved her carry-on. The disclosure transformed her countenance from someone excited about going home to deep-freeze silence.
The information she harbored wormed through her like a parasite in heat.
Steve Rush, the author who wrote my story, described it this way. “The revelation injected poison into her opaque heart. Its acid burned her soul. In that moment, Angel Meade donned animosity as if it were her favorite pair of sneakers.”
I agree. Nothing I did or said penetrated the wall between Angel and me.
That perilous day arrived after a previous disaster altered my future. Losing my mother on my eighteenth birthday influenced my decision to go to medical school and focus on forensic pathology.
Fiction characters like me want more than a status quo. My journey led to an unforeseen career detour, and what I believed was the fortuitous meeting of Olympic Gold Medalist Angel Meade.
Our future faded to darkness when the lab’s report jolted Angel as though the Greek god of the underworld prodded her with his double-tined pitchfork.
Angel showed proficiency in areas beyond winning gold medals, including the ability to hide an IED in a deceased murder victim.
From that moment it exploded, I knew someone wanted me dead.
This scene depicts a bit of aftermath and my first encounter with Berky Raines, a woman I later dubbed Lodge Tsar.
“Welcome to Eagle Fire. From the look of it, you must be Ridge Warner.”
I stilled. Familiarity rang in her voice.
“I am.” I signed the form she presented and crossed to the window overlooking the street.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asked after my repeated gaze through the window.
“Just looking.”
“I insist you don’t touch anything, trash those clothes, and bathe. I want no blood and tissue adherent to you in my lodge.”
Berky motioned for me to wait. She stepped into the adjoining room. I admired the elk’s head mounted above the fireplace. A close inspection revealed camera lens for eyes. Curious, I examined further and discovered a listening device in the left ear canal.
“Nice elk,” I said when Berky returned holding two contractor-grade garbage bags.
“Thanks. These are for your soiled clothing. If they’re not evidence, I want you to double-bag and dispose of them in the bin located around the back corner of the main building. Otherwise, I’ll notify the police to come collect them.”
“No evidentiary value.”
In my suite, I peered out from behind the drapes despite Berky’s warning for me not to touch anything until I discarded my soiled clothing and took a shower. Sometimes caution takes precedence over fulfillment of a mandate.”
Survival often comes with a price. Mine is no exception. How much I’m willing to pay depends on what happens in the future.
My story continues in Blood Red Deceit. I’d appreciate it if you would allow me to share it with you.
Many thanks,
Ridge Warner