Page 58 of So Wicked

“What’s your name?” Faith asked.

“Meredith. Meredith Sawyer. Not Sawer. I don’t saw things. I’m not a carpenter. Jesus was a carpenter. Jesus was good. Jesus was a good carpenter.”

Dr. Carpenter burst out with, “What the ever-loving—”

Faith waved her hand to cut Dr. Carpenter off. The doctor clammed up, and Faith said, “Meredith, can we talk to you, please? Can you put the syringe down?”

“I can, but I won’t. So does that mean I can’t? I choose not to. I could, but it’s wrong, so I won’t.”

“Meredith, you’re not helping people,” Faith said. “This isn’t going to help Dr. Carpenter.”

“I have to help her. I have to save her. She did a bad thing, a very bad thing. Lots of bad things. Little bad things running around her soul, pointing at her and telling God, ‘Look! She’s bad! She’s bad, send her to Hell!’ But she didn’t mean to be bad. She tried to be good. She thought killing them would help them.”

“What the hell are you—”

“Dr. Carpenter, be quiet,” Faith said firmly. To Meredith, she said, “Can you put the syringe down, please? We can talk about helping her. We can talk about saving her, but I need you to put the syringe down.”

"Fifty-eight minutes to save her soul. Twenty-nine minutes to get here and twenty-nine minutes to save her soul. Fifty-eight minutes, but there's twenty-four left now. Maybe more because you won't let me save her." She frowned. "Why won't you let me save her?"

“You’re not saving her, Meredith. I know you think you are, but you’re not. You’re hurting her.”

“No, I’m not hurting her. I’m saving her. She thinks she’s helping them. She thinks she’s saving them, but she’s not. They don’t want to die. They never want to die. Ralphie didn't want to die. He tried to live. He looked up at me with his big eyes the color of chocolate drops, and he tried to tell me to help him. His paws scraped on the table that was made of aluminum mixed with chromium, and he tried to run away, but it was too late because the needle had bit him already. And he died, but he didn't want to die. He could have lived."

Her eyes began to flick rapidly back and forth. She was growing manic again. That was bad. They needed to get that syringe quickly, or she would lose control, and they’d be forced to shoot her.

“Meredith, who was Ralphie? Tell me who Ralphie was.”

“Ralphie was a good boy. He was a good dog. I loved him, and he loved me, and he trusted me, and he trusted Dr. Robertson.”

“Was Ralphie your dog, Meredith? Tell me about him.”

“Dr. Robertson was trying to help, but he was wrong, he was bad, he was wrong, wrong, wrong. I was too late to save him because he fell three hundred feet and shattered his skull on a rock in the Badlands of New Mexico. Now he’s in Hell, and he’llnever see pets again because he can’t go to Heaven because he’s in Hell, he’s in Hell, he’s in Hell, Hell,Hell!”

She shrieked and sprinted toward Faith. Faith was too startled to fire, but Turk leaped forward and caught Meredith by her wrist. The killer screamed as Turk dragged her to the ground.

Faith rushed forward and pried the syringe from Meredith’s fingers while Slade dropped onto her other arm and held her down.

“No!” Meredith screamed. “No, no, no, no! I’m helping… I’m saving… Oh God, no, don’t take her to Hell, please!”

“No one’s going to Hell, Meredith,” Faith promised her. “It’s okay.”

“No, please! He was a good dog! He was a good dog, and I’m a good dog, and I’m trying to save them because they’re good dogs too, they just don’t know! They don’t know, they don’t knooooow!”

Faith pulled the syringe away, tossing it to the floor and out of reach. Meredith went limp, weeping bitterly. Slade handcuffed her, and she offered no resistance as Turk released her other arm, allowing Slade to roll her over and finish cuffing her.

“I’m sorry,” Meredith wept. “I’m sorry, Ralphie. I’m sorry, Jesus. I’m sorry, Dr. Carpenter. I tried. I tried to save you, and I’m sorry.”

Faith glanced at Dr. Carpenter. Her face was white as a sheet, her mouth and eyes open wide with disbelief. Faith didn’t blame her. She had witnessed insanity for probably the first time in her life. Not to mention the fact that she’d narrowly avoided being killed.

“Dispatch, this is Carmel PD Badge four-two-eight. I’m at six-forty-seven Gap Road, Cumberland. Send EMS and a wagon, please. We have one suspect, female Caucasian, five-foot-seven,one-forty. She’s in severe emotional distress. We’ll need to take her to the hospital, then figure out who’s going to process her.”

A stunned dispatcher acknowledged the call and informed them that units were on the way. Faith and Slade shared a look. There was no triumph on either of their faces. This wasn’t the first time Faith had arrested a killer whose sense of reality was too warped for them to understand right and wrong. She couldn’t feel good about sending someone to jail who didn’t understand what she was doing.

She felt good about saving an innocent vet, though. She turned to Dr. Carpenter and asked, “Are you all right? Do you require medical assistance?”

Carpenter blinked. “Medical… No, no, I’m fine. Was she… was she going to kill me?”

Faith sighed. “Yes, ma’am. She thought she was… well, it doesn’t matter. It’s over now.”

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