Whatever Doesn't Kill Me

By L. M. Haluck

Have you ever wondered if the people you are working for have a dark secret? Unknowingly becoming the center of a military experiment gone wrong, that's exactly what Petty Officer Logan Easton is trying to uncover. She must clear her name and save those who are dear to her--all the while fighting to stay alive. The deeper she gets into this endeavor, the more she realizes not everyone is who they seem. Trust no one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889601067

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Whatever Doesn't Kill Me

L. M. Haluck

Copyright © 2023 L. M. Haluck

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88960-102-9 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88960-106-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

About the Author

To my parents, Tim and Terri

Chapter 1

There are certain words in your life that you want to hear. Like, for instance, words of praise or thanks for the things you've done. Words that build your confidence and words that help you make it through even the most difficult of times. The next words I was about to hear were going to be the worst words anyone could ever say to me.

Your husband is dead, the doctor explained.

For the next few minutes, I tried my best as possible to gather my strength and asked how.

Are you sure you want to hear this? he asked.

I nodded.

He looked at me curiously before finally saying it. He was trapped in the truck and had a glass shard from the windshield stuck in his neck. He bled out before the paramedics could get to him. There was a long pause before he said, Now that you're awake, I am going to ask you a few questions, okay?

I nodded again and let the onslaught begin.

He asked me a variety of questions. For example: who my parents were, where I was born, what my name was, etcetera. I answered all of them, and everyone was surprised how intact my memory was after the accident. I had suffered a broken femur, two broken wrists, four displaced ribs, a fractured cheekbone, and a severe head injury. Because of all this, I was in a coma for three weeks.

The last thing I remember is seeing two headlights crossing the median and headed for our truck, so I turned the wheel to the right, heard a loud crunch, and that was it, I said. Why are they making me recall the details of an accident that took the best thing that has ever happened to me? Do these people have no heart?

We'll come back tomorrow and talk about your recovery. It will include physical therapy and, if you choose, seeing a psychiatrist. In the meantime, you have a few visitors, he said, showing my mother and my commanding officer, Captain Faroli, into the room.

Of course my mother was already crying before I even said hello.

Captain George Faroli never seemed to like me very much, by the number of times he had sent me to counseling. He was a stern man with an excellent poker face. I personally felt like he had never laughed more than a few times in his life. He always seemed to tower over people because of his great height. All these factors lead up to making a great yet intimidating leader.

I am glad to see you are awake. The command sends its regards for a quick recovery, and those flowers over there are from everyone. He pointed to the window, and there were several bouquets of flowers and some get-well balloons, most of them half deflated. He took a seat in the corner and let my mother and I talk a bit.

My mother took a more comfortable seat on my bed and hugged me a little too tight for comfort, considering my ribs were still hurting. She was sobbing uncontrollably and took out her handkerchief to blow her stuffed nose into.

When we got the phone call saying you and Cameron were in a bad car accident, we feared the worst. Your father couldn't be here today but said he would be in after his shift at midnight, she squeaked.

I thought for a moment and realized I had been in a coma for three weeks or so.

Mom, how was his funeral? I started to tear up a little bit, and my commanding officer nodded to my mom and stepped out for a minute.

My mother looked at me and pushed my hair behind my ear. She reached in her purse and got out a framed picture of Cameron they had at the funeral and put it by my bed.

It was a lovely service, honey. He is buried up near his parents in Northern Virginia. His parents are still upset, but these things happen.

I suddenly was overwhelmed with emotion. I began to cry, and I couldn't stop thinking that they hated me. I was driving that night we left their house, and now their son was dead. I couldn't stop my mind from believing that it was my fault.

They must hate me! I was the one who had to drive home that night. I was talking to him and not paying attention, and then all I saw were headlights, and I panicked. I…I killed my own husband, I said, losing all control.

My mother grabbed me and held me there, consoling me. This is by no means your fault, Lo. His parents don't hate you, and they want to see you when you get better. They said they have some things for you, she said.

At that point, I was too emotional to make sense of anything, and I just wanted to take a nap. My body hurt in places I didn't even know could feel pain, and I just wanted it all to be over.

That's when I heard it. Louder and louder, the clapping of flip-flops on the tile floor of the hospital.

Oh great, here she comes, I thought to myself.

The door burst open, and a wall of pink and white balloons billowed into the room. Behind several tangled balloon lines popped out a blond Barbie doll that the entire world knew as Catarina Harrison but known to me as Rena.

Catarina, or Rena to me, was possibly the most vivacious person I know. She was seldom mad, and when she was, she didn't hold on to it for very long. Some would describe her as the center of attention everywhere she went. Just a petite little thing, she came up to my shoulder, but her head of curls added a few inches. Her favorite accessory was her high heels and her makeup compact.

Ahhhh! Oh my gosh, you're awake! Lo, I missed you so much! she shrieked.

I winced, waiting for her to pounce on my mother and me. As she did, she knocked the wind out of me and elbowed my mother in the lip.

I've brought you some presents, she said with a pearly white smile. She handed my mother the balloons and grabbed her Coach bag. Pulling out a syringe and a vial of clear liquid, she shook it and looked at me. This is something the company has been working on for a long time, and I wanted you to be the first.

She poked the needle through the top of the vial and transferred the fluid from it to the syringe. Before I could object, she stabbed me in the arm and injected the fluid. It was cold as it entered my veins, and almost immediately, I felt awake and in significantly much less pain. Many people found it hard to believe that a woman like Rena could work in the medical field. Well, not the medical field but the pharmaceutical field.

Rena worked for a company called Green Inc., a medicinal company that developed vaccines and medicines for big-name pharmaceutical companies. She started out as an intern and was picked up for a full-time position within two months of being there. Crazy enough, she was now the head of her department and had access to the entire complex and oversaw all production. I was flattered that she wanted me to be the first person to test out their long-awaited product but very much concerned with the possible side effects.

Thanks, I feel so much better, but isn't this illegal? Won't something like this pop on a piss test? I said, my mother eyeing me for using the p-word.

My commanding officer came back into the room and shook hands with Rena. I raised an eyebrow at them as they both looked at me at the same time.

Logan, I have been working with Rena on getting a vaccine together to help injured vets get back to their duties faster. It is a major breakthrough in the history of medicine, and if this is a successful case, the vaccine can be distributed to all military medical facilities around the country. You will be compensated for your troubles if it doesn't work as well as we planned, but you will still be compensated for being the first, a pioneer of sorts. He rubbed his fingers and thumb together and mouthed the word money.

Money was something I could use being a second-class petty officer in the navy. And now being a widow. I was a widow. The word hit me like a ton of bricks, and I started crying again. Rena threw herself on me again and patted my head as if I was a puppy dog. Captain Faroli took a seat on the chair he was sitting on previously.

I know this is a hard time for you, but we really need you to be 100 percent in your training. We are going to give you special training to help you get well faster. The medicine works on its own, but we want to boost it. We have gotten in touch with your physical therapist, and she has okayed it after a certain number of weeks. We don't think it is going to take weeks for you to get better. Lo, it is only going to take a few days. He stood up and grabbed his keys. This is just the miracle the military needs. Take care, Logan. See you back at the office in a few weeks. With a salute in my direction, he was off and out the door, followed by Rena shortly thereafter.

Chapter 2

Mom was asleep in the chair that Captain Faroli previously occupied when Dad walked in. Surprisingly enough, he didn't look like he usually did with the dark circles under his eyes and frazzled hair. He looked…fresh.

Hey there, kid, how are you feeling? he asked, setting down a cup of hot cocoa. He pulled a candy cane out of his pocket and started to stir it for me.

I loved this as a child and had never grown out of it at twenty-five years old.

I have extra canes in my pocket for later if you want, he said.

I am okay, Dad, just depressed. I feel like I'm the reason my husband is dead even though everyone keeps telling me I'm not, I said, grabbing the cocoa with difficulty and sipping it slowly to not scald my taste buds.

I kept stirring it, watching the foam spiral around in my cup, hoping it would hypnotize me into sleep. I looked up, and Dad was at the window.

I know this is a rough time for you, but your mother and I have come into some money. Not a lot, just enough to get us through until the summer, he said, staring out at the blackness as snowflakes started to fall.

I guess this explains why he's looking so well.

Don't worry, I got everything taken care of at home now.

I wasn't really worried, but since he said something about it, I began to do just that.

Where did you get the money, Dad? It's not another predatory loan, is it? Does Mom know? I said, prodding him.

If my mother didn't know, my dad was sure to be in the doghouse for months when she finds out. And she has her unique way of getting information. Dad wasn't very discreet about things sometimes.

She doesn't know, and she doesn't need to know, kiddo. This is my business, and if things are taken care of, there is nothing to worry about, okay? I didn't spend it all at once. I have it in a different bank account that your mother doesn't know about, he said, turning back to me and taking a seat next to the bed. By the way, I got you a present. Smiling and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys but wouldn't let me hold them and dangled them teasingly in front of me. I will only give this to you if you keep this our little secret.

I nodded. Another Chevy? I asked.

He just smiled and shrugged.

I guess it could be okay depending on what it is. Are you going to tell me or make me wait until I can walk to go see it? I asked in a rather snippy way.

He crossed his arms and looked at me with that stern gaze that meant I would be in trouble if we were in public and I was talking to him in that tone.

Well, young lady, I think it's best that you wait until you can actually hold a steering wheel. It's nothing too fancy or new, but it's fast. And it runs, unlike your truck. He sat back in the chair and looked out the window again.

It seemed as if he was watching out for something. But at the same time, I had never seen my dad so relaxed.

I finished my cocoa and set it down to see both my mother and father asleep. I wish it was that easy. Just to sit down somewhere and pass out would be wonderful. They must not have a worry in the world. I had a lot going on in my life, and I had never felt so alone while surrounded by so many people who love me.

I had enough. I hit the button for the nurse, and she came in. I explained to her that I couldn't sleep and wondered if there was something she could do. She consoled me and said that it must be hard considering what I had been through. After adding something to my IV, she walked out, and very shortly after she did so, I was asleep.

A terrible dream plagued my mind. All the foggy details of the accident had come back into light. It was an eighteen-wheeler that had hit us. I remembered that from before. I began to remember the logo on the side. White letters with a lime-color outline against a black background. Green Inc. There was no possible way it could have said that. It was dark outside during the accident, and this was a dream. My mind must have made that up since I was thinking about Rena earlier. I had spun out of control, trying to veer away from the truck, and had done a one-eighty. The semi hit the rear passenger side, and I envisioned my head hitting the steering wheel, and then I saw it. When I looked up from the steering wheel, there was a bullet hole in the windshield. It was right where Cameron was sitting. I looked over at him. He was looking down at his chest where the bullet had hit him and then looked at me.

He held the side of my face with one of his hands and said, This was no accident. Remember that. Whatever you do, remember that I was murdered. Be strong. I will always love you. He kissed my hand and looked away.

He slunk down in his seat, and I knew he was dead.

Chapter 3

I woke up screaming and sobbing to my mother holding and shushing me. She rocked me back and forth in her arms, and my dad stood over her as she did this. Was I going crazy? It was such a vivid dream, but I was medicated right before I fell asleep. Hell, that was the only way for me to get to sleep. Okay, I was crazy. I had to lie to them.

It's okay, Lo…shh, it's okay. It was just a dream, my mother said.

I couldn't breathe. I was still trying to figure out if what I had dreamed was a dream or a recollection of the past. It was the most vivid dream I have had in years. Dreams like that aren't just by chance. They are real. Or were real instances at one point in time. These things just don't happen.

It was Cameron. I saw him die, I said still crying.

My mother looked at my father and still held me, trying her best to calm me down. It was still dark out, and I must have roused some fellow hospital goers because the nurse came running into the room. My dad explained to her that it was just a nightmare and that I would be fine and hurried her out the door.

It's okay, kiddo. Like your mother said, it was only a dream. You hit your head pretty hard in that accident. I don't think it was possible for you to see him die, he said reassuringly.

Maybe he was right. Maybe it was just something I dreamed up. Even though my father had a point, I wasn't about to dismiss any dream as false.

Okay, Dad. Maybe you're right. Is it okay if I try and go back to sleep now?

Dad started to head for the door.

I don't need anything. Don't worry about it, I said to him.

He turned back toward me and winked and gave a thumbs-up. That was a signature move from Dad when he didn't know what words to say. He and Mom both took their respective seats from before, and Dad joked about possibly getting himself something for sleep. Eventually, they both were asleep, with me lying there staring at the ceiling.

How could I have remembered anything from the accident? My dad did have a valid point, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the truck that hit us did say Green Inc. on the side. I remember seeing the slogan flash in the headlights of the car in front of us. Did I really see that, or was that just my imagination also? I was starting to get a headache. I called for the nurse again and apologized for not taking her up on her earlier offer. Moments after she left, I started to get that warm sensation again and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to Doc Hudson checking my charts and waiting for me to wake up. I only knew his name because of the wristband I got when I was admitted to the emergency room. I was technically meeting him for the first time. He had salt-and-pepper hair and some scruff on his chin. He was tall and lean and wearing bifocals. His pen had Mickey Mouse on it, and his stethoscope had Pluto on it. If I hadn't been in the emergency room wing of the hospital, I would have guessed he was a pediatrician.

He had a gift for me, which I found somewhat unusual. He handed me a mirror. A mirror, something as simple as that, made me realize that I must have changed in those three weeks that I had been in a coma. He told me to wait until I was alone to look into it, and I nodded.

Now to business. We want to get you up and walking as soon as possible. You have a rod in your femur. I don't think I told you that yesterday, did I?

I shook my head no.

Well, I went over a lot with you yesterday, and I didn't want to overwhelm you. Are you okay with that? he asked again.

I nodded yes, and he flipped through the charts again to show me something.

What's this? I asked, looking confused but knowing what I was looking at.

He showed me a page in my