The Bone Collection
Four Novellas
(Sprache: Englisch)
A collection of four short stories stars forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan and includes ôFirst Bones,ö which reveals how she got her start in the lab, and ôBones on Ice,ö which follows her to Mount Everest where she must identify a human corpse...
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A collection of four short stories stars forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan and includes ôFirst Bones,ö which reveals how she got her start in the lab, and ôBones on Ice,ö which follows her to Mount Everest where she must identify a human corpse previously buried deep within the ice. By a #1 New York Times best-selling author. Original
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Chapter1
I sat with my chair drawn close to him, an icy heat hovering below my sternum. Fear.
Through the sliding glass door came muted hospital sounds. An arriving elevator. A rattling gurney or cart. A paged code or name. In the room, only the soft rhythmic pinging of sensors monitoring vital signs.
His face looked gaunt and greenish gray in the glow of machines tracking his pulse and respirations. Every now and then I glanced at a screen. Watching the lines jump their erratic zigzag patterns. Willing the pinging and jumping to continue.
Surgical Trauma Intensive Care Unit. So cold. So sterile. Yet a human touch: a stain shaped like Mickey s ears on one rail of the overcomplicated bed. Funny what you notice when under stress.
A sheet covered him from the neck down, leaving only his arms exposed. A pronged tube delivered oxygen to his nostrils. A needle infused liquids into a vein in his right wrist. The arm with the IV lay tucked to his torso. The other rested on his chest, elbow flexed at an obtuse angle.
I watched his sheet-clad chest rise and fall. Somehow his body looked smaller than normal. Shrunken. Or was it an illusion created by the fish-tank illumination?
He didn t move, didn t blink. In the eerie light, his lids appeared translucent purple, like the thinly peeled skin of a Bermuda onion. His eyeballs had receded deep into their orbits.
Hollywood s dramatic death scenes are a scam. A slug to the body destroys roughly two ounces of tissue, no more. A bullet doesn t necessarily drop a man on the spot. To kill instantly, you have to shoot into the brain or high up in the spinal cord, or cause hemorrhage by hitting a main vessel or the heart. None of those things had happened to him. He d survived until a late-night dog walker stumbled upon him, unconscious and bleeding but still showing a pulse.
The wee-hours call had roused me from a deep sleep. Adrenaline rush. Shaky clawing up of the phone. Then the heart-hammering
... mehr
drive across town. The argument to talk myself into the STICU. I hadn t bothered with polite.
Death by firearm depends on multiple factors: bullet penetration deep enough to reach vital organs, permanent cavity formation along the bullet s path, temporary cavity formation due to transfer of the bullet s kinetic energy, bullet and bone fragmentation. All of those things had happened to him.
The surgeons had done what they could. They d spoken gently, voices calm through the fatigue, eyes soft with compassion. The internal damage was too severe. He was dying.
How could that be? Men his age didn t die. But they did. We all did. America was armed to the teeth and no one was safe.
I felt a tremor in my chest. Fought it down.
Uncaring death was about to punch a hole in my life. I didn t want to consider the coming weeks. Months. We had done so much together. Fed off each other physically, emotionally. Despite the occasional aloofness, abruptness. The arguments. The unexplained retreats. The exchanges weren t always pleasant, but they spurred the process, helped us accomplish more than either of us would have managed solo. Now the future looked bleak. Unbearable sadness wrapped me like a shroud.
He d been a good man. Capable. Devoted to his work. Always busy, but willing to listen, to provide feedback, sometimes outrageous, sometimes sage. Forever in motion.
I thought of the hours we d spent together. The shared challenges. The identification of issues and approaches toward solutions. The painstaking attention to detail that could knit together a comprehensible whole from fragments. The shared sense of accomplishment in uncovering answers to perplexing questions. The mutual frustration and disappointment when no solution emerged.
I d seen so much death. Corpses whole
Death by firearm depends on multiple factors: bullet penetration deep enough to reach vital organs, permanent cavity formation along the bullet s path, temporary cavity formation due to transfer of the bullet s kinetic energy, bullet and bone fragmentation. All of those things had happened to him.
The surgeons had done what they could. They d spoken gently, voices calm through the fatigue, eyes soft with compassion. The internal damage was too severe. He was dying.
How could that be? Men his age didn t die. But they did. We all did. America was armed to the teeth and no one was safe.
I felt a tremor in my chest. Fought it down.
Uncaring death was about to punch a hole in my life. I didn t want to consider the coming weeks. Months. We had done so much together. Fed off each other physically, emotionally. Despite the occasional aloofness, abruptness. The arguments. The unexplained retreats. The exchanges weren t always pleasant, but they spurred the process, helped us accomplish more than either of us would have managed solo. Now the future looked bleak. Unbearable sadness wrapped me like a shroud.
He d been a good man. Capable. Devoted to his work. Always busy, but willing to listen, to provide feedback, sometimes outrageous, sometimes sage. Forever in motion.
I thought of the hours we d spent together. The shared challenges. The identification of issues and approaches toward solutions. The painstaking attention to detail that could knit together a comprehensible whole from fragments. The shared sense of accomplishment in uncovering answers to perplexing questions. The mutual frustration and disappointment when no solution emerged.
I d seen so much death. Corpses whole
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Kathy Reichs
Kathy Reichs
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Kathy Reichs
- 2016, 400 Seiten, Maße: 10,3 x 19 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Bantam
- ISBN-10: 0399593225
- ISBN-13: 9780399593222
- Erscheinungsdatum: 25.10.2016
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Praise for Kathy Reichs and the Temperance Brennan seriesNobody does forensics thrillers like Kathy Reichs. She s the real deal. David Baldacci
Kathy Reichs writes smart no, make that brilliant mysteries that are as realistic as nonfiction and as fast-paced as the best thrillers about Jack Reacher or Alex Cross. James Patterson
Every minute in the morgue with Tempe is golden. The New York Times Book Review
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