State of Shock

Chris

Professor Chris Thatcher watched as the detective walked away. Dr. Roman-James moved to where the detective stood. They both continued to stare through the glass at the small comatose girl.  "Do you think she'll be ok?" 

Sarah fidgeted with her paperwork. "I don't know. She took a pretty big blow to the head. It looks like "The Institution" was not expecting any survivors." 

Chris looked at Stacy. "That's not what I meant. This case seems to be taking a bite out of detective McReary. Do you think she'll be ok?" 

Stacy looked thoughtful for a minute. "I don't know. If this girl doesn't survive, it'll tear her apart." 

Chris looked into the hospital room a bit longer. "I’ve got to go, I have a class. Call me if anything changes."

 Dr. Roman's half smile brightened. The entire left side of her face straining to complete the other half. The scar tissue stretching and creating a crooked half smile. "You're on the list. Right after her parents and the detective." 

Chris took out his keys and swung them around his finger. "Thanks." He walked down the hallway toward the elevators with his head down in deep thought. He pushed the button to the parking garage and continued to think about Stacy, Elizabeth, and the case. 

This case had more than the detective annoyed. Chis knew she was following a twisted and very deadly dead end. "The Institution" was notorious on campus. But it was generally used by frat boys to make themselves look cool in front of girls. God knows their brains couldn't get them anywhere, so they had to make themselves look cool. Those who were actually part of the group didn't make it known or advertised. They recruited at small club meetings like the chess club or the sci-fi club or other little known clubs with a small group. They would initiate members of the group after strict scrutiny and not everybody made the cut. And those that did, didn't always get to stay. One missed step and they were the victim of one of many campus suicides attributed to stress or bullying or some other excuse that the campus police could come up with. 

Very rarely did "The Institution" make itself known in such a violent and exposing manner. Chris knew more about the group not because he had eyes and ears, but because of Stacy. She presented him with invaluable information. A month after the beginning of last spring semester, she came to him, unaware of where to turn. Their "study sessions" kept her identity within the group the same, but she could bring information to him at a safe distance. In the early sessions, they devised a set of codes made up of numbers and formulas that she passed to him in class. Her notes continued to come, mostly telling him she was ok, up until a week before the incident. By that time, it was too late, and his information was lacking the necessary information needed to save lives. He didn't blame the detective for thinking they were sleeping together. Their relationship would have left anybody thinking that. But his information proved valuable to the event leading to Stacy's admission into the hospital.

Chris entered the parking lot and fumbled with his car keys.  He noticed a parking ticket on the windshield. "Dammit! I was only here for a few minutes!" He pulled the ticket off the windshield, knowing full well he didn't pay for parking like he was supposed to, wadded it up and threw it into the car without looking at it. He started his car and headed to the nearest Internet cafe. He needed to think.