Chapter One

"Dr. Randall!"

He pivoted around and saw Nurse Jones, a middle-aged overweight woman, standing in the hallway outside the infirmary. "What's the matter?"

"Inmate Armstrong is shaking all over." She paused to catch-her-breath. "He's saying over and over, 'I'm going to die.'"

The small hairs on the back of John's neck stood straight out. He had only examined Armstrong a few minutes ago. What could have gone wrong with him in that short period? John raced into the hallway between the infirmary and the nursing station. He looked to his right through glass panels. Armstrong lay in bed. His entire body shook as if an electrical current pulsated through it. Nurse Rollins stood next to him. He rushed into the six-bed ward and heard Armstrong shouting, "I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die..." His unemotional words sounded like someone reading the ingredients off a soup can.

Rollins, a male nurse in his early thirties, removed a thermometer.

"What's his temperature?" John asked, reaching down and placing the back of his hand on top of Armstrong’s left forearm. The skin felt cool and dry.

"Ninety-four degrees."                         

Armstrong kept repeating, "I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die…"          

"You're not going to die!" John interrupted. "Try to stay calm." Armstrong stopped his chanting. His uncontrollable shaking continued. He turned toward Rollins. "Did you get a blood pressure and pulse?"   

"It was normal. Blood pressure was a hundred and twenty over sixty-eight and a pulse of seventy-two before he started to tremble."

John tried to grab Armstrong's wrist to take a pulse, but his violent shaking made it difficult. He removed a stethoscope from his lab coat, placing it over the left side of Armstrong's chest. The heart gaited at about sixty beats a minute. John removed the stethoscope, flipping it around his neck. "His vital signs are dropping. His skin is cool and dry. There’s uncontrollable shivering. You'd think he just stepped out of a walk-in freezer."

"He hasn't been out of our sight for the past hour and a half," said Jones.

"What's important now is to raise his vital signs. Jones, get the crash cart from the trauma room. Rollins, call EMS."

"What diagnosis do I give them?"

"Possible heart attack." John knew if Armstrong's vital signs continued to drop, a heart attack would occur.

Jones and Rollins ran out of the room.

John turned off the air conditioning to the infirmary. He grabbed blankets off the other beds, placing them over Armstrong's shivering body. He next placed a thermometer on a dry forehead. The temperature read ninety degrees. It dropped four degrees in less than ten minutes.

Armstrong stopped shaking. His body lay still with eyes and mouth closed.

John reached down and shook a cold, lifeless arm. "Armstrong! Open your eyes!"

No response; his eyes remained closed.

A squealing sound of two pieces of metal rubbing together behind him caused him to spin around toward the infirmary door. Nurse Jones rushed toward him with the crash cart. "Put it over here," he said pointing toward the head of Armstrong's bed. "Start on IV and open it all the way."

"Okay," she said slightly out of breath.

John placed a blood pressure cuff around Armstrong’s upper right arm. He squeezed the bulb several times, raising the dial up to two hundred. His fingers opened the valve, deflating the cuff. Armstrong’s pressure had dropped to eighty-four over fifty--much too low for a young robust man. John uncoiled the tubing attached to a nasal cannula from the top of the portable oxygen tank, placing its prongs into Armstrong's nose. He turned the oxygen on to two liters.

He next attached self-adhesive electrodes across Armstrong’s chest wall. A moment later, he turned on the EKG machine.

Beep…Beep…Beep from the EKG machine engulfed the room. John stared at a slow heart rate of thirty-six flashing in the upper right corner of the monitor.

Rollins ran into the infirmary. "Dr. Randall, I called EMS. It’ll take them awhile before they get here."

"Why’s that?"

"All their EMTs and Paramedics are tied-up at a multiple car accident on I-75."

"Damn! What can go wrong next?" He reached into the top drawer of the crash cart, removing a needled-syringe filled with atropine--a drug to increase the heart rate. He pierced the needle through the IV's plastic portal and pushed the drug into the IV line. He looked up at the monitor. A heart rate of 36 continued. "Jones, take his blood pressure. He leaned over and listened for chest sounds with his stethoscope while looking for movement of the chest. Both were present. "No need to intubate, yet."

"Blood pressure is sixty systolic," said Jones.

John picked up the thermometer, placing it onto Armstrong's forehead. A few seconds, he removed it. "Eighty-six degrees. It had dropped another four degrees. Why are the vital signs dropping so fast?"

John injected another vial of atropine into the IV line. "Be the one." The monitor displayed 32, then 34…36…38…." It's working! His heart rate is increasing."

"Great," said Rollins, turning and high-fiving Jones.

John took Armstrong's blood pressure. "Eighty over fifty-four. We did it."

"I'll take his temperature," said Jones, placing the thermometer on Armstrong's forehead. "It's dropped to eighty degrees!"

John rubbed the back of his head. "What the hell is going on?"

A piercing sound screamed from the cardiac monitor. John stared at the monitor. "He's in Ventricular Fibrillation! Rollins, give me the paddles. Turn the defibrillator on two hundred. Jones, start CPR."

A moment later, Rollins handed John the paddles. He reached over Armstrong, placing the paddles on a bare chest. "Stand clear!" Armstrong's body jerked. The monitor still showed V-Fib. "Turn it up to three hundred."

"Ready," said Rollins.

"Stand clear!" Armstrong's body jerked. The monitor continued to show V-Fib.

"Three hundred and fifty."

"Ready.”

"Stand clear!"  Armstrong's body lurched upwards. Again, John saw no change on the monitor.

"Rollins, give me the laryngoscope." In less than thirty seconds, John intubated Armstrong. "Jones, start bagging him. Rollins, take over chest compressions."

Over the next twenty minutes, John injected other cardiac drugs into the IV line.

"Stop CPR." The straight line moved across the monitor.

"Should we continue CPR?" Jones asked.

"No…," John’s shoulders slumped,"…we've done everything we can for him."

Jones removed the endotracheal tube. "What caused his death?"

Sweat dripped off John’s face. His saturated shirt clung to his skin. He slowly moved his tongue over his upper lip then over his lower lip. He stared down at a lifeless body. "Armstrong froze to death."

Frozen Death is a very cool book. Yes, the pun is intended. It has likeable characters and an exciting storyline. With a mystery to solve and old folklore at the center of the mystery, you will be surprise at how the story plays out. Get your copy and enjoy a great read.

Frozen Death is a very intriguing mystery and it gets even more interesting as the answer appears to be found in Ancient Indian lore. ...  If you love Indian lore, medically impossible puzzles, and mysteries that look impossible, you will like Frozen Death.