Freeze Frame

by Freya Barker

  My sight is blurry: from the heat, the smoke, and the tears. I can barely make out the fire truck as it races closer, firemen jumping out the minute it comes to a halt.

  “Over here...” I try to call out, but end up having to point down at the ground, where I need a second to clue in on the slight movement. Her hand—her hand is moving.

  “Sir—step back please, sir. Give us some room to work.” The bulky fireman shoves me out of the way and I land on my ass in the snow. Numb.

  “There could be someone else...in there,” I point at the trailer but am not surprised when the same fireman gives me a slight shake of the head.

  I’d forgotten I was holding my phone when it starts buzzing in my hand. Trying to decipher the name on the screen, I quickly hit answer.

  “Stacie...” Her name comes out on a sob.

  “Ben?”

  Isla?

  But that means that...

  CHAPTER 24

  Isla

  “Family of Anastasia Gustafson?”

  Ben is on his feet before the woman in scrubs has a chance to finish her sentence.

  I’m not sure how long we’ve been here exactly, but it feels like the middle of the night.

  -

  I can still see the look on Ben’s face when I pulled in behind a fire truck and watched him barrel toward me. I didn’t have a chance to get out before he yanked open the door and pulled me half-out, holding me like he wanted to absorb me.

  “Ben. Baby, talk to me, I’m scared. Is anyone hurt? Why is there an ambulance? What’s going on?” I rambled, one question after another, my panic only increasing as his grip on me tightened with every one.

  “Anastasia,” he whispered, the sound raw and slicing me to the core.

  “Is she...?”

  “I don’t know,” he said defeatedly when I couldn’t finish the question. “I thought she was...I thought it was you.” He buried his face in my neck and I could smell the smoke in his hair.

  “Where’s Mak? Uncle Al?”

  “At the pond, I told him to stay with her.” He tilted back to look at me. “Nobody is alone at any time. No one.”

  “Sir, we need to check you out.” An EMT was standing behind him, giving me a kind nod, but I felt Ben’s arms tighten.

  “Promise me,” he hissed.

  “I promise, but, sweetheart, let them have a look,” I told him gently, pushing him back a little.

  “My sister?”

  “Sir, she’s in the ambulance, about to head out to Southwest Memorial. They’re taking good care of her.”

  Ben let himself be checked out when I looked at what remained of the Deville. Not much more than a metal frame on wheels.

  We had a brief argument when Ben tried to get into the driver’s seat of Stacie’s car, insisting he could drive, despite the burn on his hand. Since I still had the keys, it was a moot point, and we swung by the pond to pick up my uncle and Ben’s niece. Atsa had luckily stuck around with Mak and we loaded him in the back. I’d drop him off with Jen; I didn’t want to leave him there alone.

  That resulted in another brief argument, because Ben didn’t want to stop at all, but I convinced him it would be best. It only took a minute, since Jen saw me pull up and had come running out. Without asking questions, she simply gave me a tight hug, took Atsa by the collar, and headed inside.

  I saw the looks my uncle and Ben exchanged when I got back behind the wheel. Not sure what that is, between law enforcement people; they seem able to communicate things without words. I know some message was relayed when Uncle Al’s mouth became a firm stripe and a muscle in his jaw started twitching.

  I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know, there was enough chaos and confusion in my head, and pain in my heart. Especially listening to the gut-wrenching sobs from Mak in backseat, when Ben told her that her mom had been hurt pretty badly.

  -

  “Yes. Talk to me.” Ben is in the woman’s space, scaring the shit out of her.

  “Ben, give her room, honey,” I try gently, as a sleeping Mak shifts in my lap. She had clung to Ben all day, while we were waiting, but when Neil and another man showed up to talk to him, he handed her to me. She stayed plastered against me, even after Ben came back and whispered with my uncle in the far corner of the waiting room. I still didn’t want to know. Or maybe I just didn’t want to have confirmed what I already suspected. My heart couldn’t take it. Finally, a few hours ago, Mak fell asleep on my lap.

  “Anastasia is out of surgery,” the woman shares when Ben takes a grudging step back.

  “Stacie,” he mumbles. “She prefers Stacie.”

  “Okay,” she says, nodding kindly. “Stacie is in recovery. We were able to remove some shrapnel from her back, but she had a piece of metal embedded in one of her kidneys. We weren’t able to save the kidney. In addition, she suffered a depressed skull fracture and we had to remove a shard of her skull. We’re monitoring for swelling of her brain. In addition, she has third-degree burns on sixty percent of her body. The deepest burns were on her back, and we debrided as much of the dead skin as we could. At some point in the future we’ll be using grafts to help grow new. The biggest danger right now is infection, and we’re doing everything we can to prevent that. She will definitely be facing more surgeries down the road. Given the extent of her injuries, she’s considered critical and will be kept in an induced coma until her condition improves.”

  “Can I see her?” Ben asks, his voice thick with unshed tears and my heart hurts.

  “Go to him,” I hear my uncle’s voice beside me, as he gingerly lifts Mak from my lap and settles her on his.

  I walk up to Ben and wrap my arms around him from behind, plastering myself to his back.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Once she’s ready to be moved to the ICU, you may be able to visit her for a few minutes. I promise to keep you updated, but perhaps you should consider heading home and catching some sleep.” With a friendly nod to Uncle Al, she turns and leaves the room.

  Ben doesn’t move for what seems like a long time, until he finally turns around, grabs me under the arms and half-carries, half-drags me to the love seat on the far wall. There he sinks down, pulls me on top of him and buries his face in my neck.

  The silence in the room is complete as I feel the heat of his silent tears burn my skin.

  “I can’t lose her, too.”

  Ben’s whispered plea draws a sob from my chest. I can’t find the words to give him comfort, so I just pull a little closer, burrow a little deeper, to try and soothe him. My own eyes are blurred with tears as I catch a glimpse of Uncle Al, smiling sadly in our direction.

  “The doc is right,” my uncle says gently. “We should go back and get some rest.”

  “I can’t leave,” Ben says, grief lacing his voice as he raises his head.

  “Ben—Son—trust me, I understand, but look at this sleeping little girl? When she wakes up, she’s going to need you most of all. Whatever happens, she’s going to look to you to find her strength.”

  -

  “Where’s Mom?”

  I turn around at Mak’s sleepy voice. Uncle Al is behind me, carrying her down the hall to her bedroom. We left Ben outside, with the two men that were apparently waiting for him. One of them I saw briefly earlier in the day, with Neil at the hospital, but the other I’ve never seen before.

  “She’s still sleeping at the hospital, baby,” I soothe, stroking the hair from her face. “We’re going to get some sleep, too. Uncle Al was just taking you to your room.” I watch as tears fill her eyes.

  “Can I sleep with you and Uncle Ben?”

  My heart breaks at the fear in that little voice.

  “Of course you can, sweetheart. Do you need Uncle Al to carry you?”

  “I can walk,” she says, putting on a brave face as he lowers her to her feet. I grab her hand tightly in mine and smile at my uncle.

  “Night.” He tags the back of my head and presses his lips to my forehead.

  “Night, my girl.
You look after this one for a bit,” he says, with a wink in Mak’s direction. “I’ll take care of your man. Try to get some sleep.”

  I give Mak an old shirt of mine to put on and help her in bed. Then I strip down to my underwear and tank, before joining her under the covers. She instinctively crawls to me, and I try to keep my crying silent, as I press her head to my chest and listen to her breathing even out with sleep.

  Ben

  “Sorry to meet under these circumstances.”

  I nod as I shake the hand of the man, Neil introduced as Gus Flemming. Same guy, Damian had tried to set me up with.

  “Me, too.”

  “How’s your sister?” he asks and I almost flinch.

  “Don’t know,” I manage through gritted teeth. “Was wheeled right into surgery and I’m about to lose my shit.”

  “Hold it in check, I’m sure they’ll let you know when they have something to report.”

  From anyone else, a platitude like that would have me blow, but Gus makes it sound like an order as he holds a firm grip on my hand, and oddly enough, it helps.

  “Won’t keep you long,” he continues, releasing my hand with a final squeeze. “Neil’s already got me up-to-date on what he’s been looking into for you, and Damian filled me in as much as he could with what he found out through official channels. We’ll have a look at the scene, see what we can find that wasn’t trampled over by emergency personnel, and maybe check out your place as well. Give us a call when you leave here and we’ll meet you at your place.”

  With a firm clap on my shoulder, he turns on his heels and heads for the lobby.

  “He’s something, right?” Neil, who’s been quiet the entire exchange, points out. “Been with him since my deployment ended. He’s like a father figure to me.”

  I could see that. Although the guy is probably not older than me by much, he seems to have the ability to make you feel he’s got your back. And I need everyone at my fucking back just about now.

  “I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t get to you sooner this morning,” the younger man says, and it’s clear I’m not the only one carrying that particular load. “Could’ve probably...”

  “Shut up,” I cut him off sharply. “I’ve been saying shit like that to myself all fucking day long. Don’t you drown under that kind of useless guilt. Only one who should carry that burden; it isn’t me, and it sure as shit isn’t you. Focus on finding that deranged bitch.”

  Neil nods and starts walking in the same direction where Gus has already disappeared.

  “Thanks,” I call after him. He stops and turns around.

  “Go back to your family, man. We’ve got this.”

  -

  “So what’s the plan?”

  Al’s waiting for me in the great room, a bottle of scotch and two glasses ready on the coffee table.

  Gus Flemming was at the house as promised, when we got here. Don’t remember the other guy’s name, Jim or Joe, or something. Looked ex-military or maybe former law enforcement. I wasn’t really paying attention to introductions.

  According to what they’d been able to find out, the fire had been arson. Not that I hadn’t figured that already, but it was still good to have it confirmed. It looked like the door had been braced shut with a picnic table, which was then doused in gasoline and set aflame. According to the fire chief, my sister likely tried to escape by kicking the larger window out. The heat of the fire had been intense enough to ignite the small propane tank, and the explosion possibly threw Stacie clear of the trailer. The sheriff’s office is treating it as arson and attempted murder.

  “Flemming has a guy liaising with law enforcement, and he says he has a few guys with an eye on the house,” I tell Al, as I sit down beside him and accept the glass he offers me. “My friend, Damian Gomez, the FBI agent I told you about, is pulling all the strings on this one. He’s handling the assault on those old folks in Durango. If Damian trusts Flemming, who is former law enforcement himself, then I trust him, too.”

  “Good enough for me,” Al says, tossing the last of his drink back. “Another?” He holds up the bottle and I follow suit, throwing the scotch back like a shot before I hold out my glass for a refill.

  “The girls sleeping?” I ask, looking around.

  “Both in your bed.”

  “Good,” I mumble, my lips on the rim of my glass. “Fuck, what a day.”

  “You can say that again,” Al says, his large paw landing on my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “We should turn in. I’m staying here. I’m keeping my gun on my body, and I’ve got your back. Try and get some rest.”

  I watch as the old man walks out of the room, leaving me to sip the last of my scotch. Grabbing both empty glasses and the bottle, I deposit them on the counter in the kitchen, turning off lights, and checking doors and windows as I go.

  When I walk into the bedroom, I halt as I take in the tangled mess in our bed. Mak is clinging to Isla’s sleeping form like a monkey, her limbs literally wrapped around Isla’s body and her face buried under her chin. I can’t believe Isla is able to sleep like that, and as soon as I shed some of my clothes, I try to crawl between the two. I manage to untangle my niece, only to have her cling to me, still sleeping, and I tug Isla close on my other side.

  I need that, feeling both their breaths tickling my skin and both their heartbeats beating against my body. I close my eyes and try to let myself drift off, as I hope with all my heart that somewhere in a hospital bed, another breath is taken and another heart keeps beating.

  CHAPTER 25

  Ben

  “Okay, I think I’m ready now.”

  I turn around and watch Isla walk down the hall toward me.

  “Ready for what, babe?”

  When I woke up this morning I was surprised I’d even slept. I managed to sneak out of bed, without waking the girls, grabbed my phone from the nightstand—no calls— and made a beeline for the coffee maker. It already had a full pot, courtesy of Al, who was sitting at the counter.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said, when I took my first hit of caffeine. “The fire and explosion were intentional, but your sister? I’m pretty sure that was an accident. I want to bet the target was my niece.”

  “I would agree.”

  The old man stared silently into his cup, before raising his eyes.

  “Need you on the ball, Son. She’s all I’ve got left.” His voice was thick with emotion, and he had to clear his throat to continue. “Ginnie—she doesn’t know who I am, and there’s little left of her I recognize. I’ve already made my peace with that loss. But, boy, something happens to my girl, I swear it’ll be the death of me. And I’ll welcome it.”

  All I could do was reach over and squeeze his shoulder. I heard him; I got what he was saying. You can’t control what is in the past, but you sure as hell can try to get a bead on what’s ahead.

  I called the hospital right there, needing to know how my sister had gotten through the night. As soon as I was told she was stable, I shifted my focus ahead. So I called Neil.

  That’s who I just saw out the door.

  I open my arms and Isla walks right in.

  “Did you sleep?” she asks, apparently forgetting her earlier question as her eyes scan my face. I kiss her good morning before answering.

  “I snuck in between you two,” I admit, smiling down at her. “I slept. Is Makenna...?”

  “She’s still asleep. I left the door open so I can hear her and she can hear us when she wakes.”

  “Stacie’s stable,” I tell her. “I called earlier; she got through the night without any incidents.”

  “Are we heading to the hospital?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly, and I watch surprise register on her face. “I was just showing Neil out.”

  “I thought I heard him.” She nods, as if to bolster herself. “Which brings me back to what I said earlier. I’m ready to know what happened. I want to know everything, and I know you’ve been keeping stuff from me. I’ve
heard the whispers; I’ve seen the glances. I know you’ve let my uncle in, and I understand why, but I need to know what we’re up against as well.” She closes her eyes briefly and breathes in audibly through her nose, before looking up at me. “Cause as I see it, what happened yesterday shouldn’t have happened to Stacie—it was supposed to happen to me.”

  Isla

  The girl is killing me.

  Before I had a chance to get what I was looking for from Ben, Mak came tearing out of the bedroom, with panic in her eyes. Ben scooped her up and calmly reassured her that her mom was doing okay.

  “Get yourself a coffee,” he said to me over her shoulder. “I’ve got her.” And disappeared back into our bedroom with her.

  When they resurface fifteen minutes later, Mak is dressed, it looks like her face has been washed, and she’s clinging to her uncle’s hand.

  “Hop up, girl.” Uncle Al pulls out a stool for her and Ben swings her up. “Why don’t I get us some breakfast going, while these two,” he waves his hand between Ben and I, “get themselves ready for the day.”

  “I’m not really hungry,” she says in a tiny little voice.

  “Nonsense. You just wait until you get a whiff of my famous scrambled eggs with liver and onion. You won’t ever want anything else for breakfast again.”

  I can’t hold back the chuckle when I see Mak’s face simply blanch. He used to tease me like that all the time.

  “He’s kidding,” I whisper in her ear. She’s starting to look really panicked when he dives into the fridge.

  “Maybe I’ll just have oatmeal,” she whispers, looking for a rescue from Ben.

  “You’d rather have oatmeal than liver?” Al turns to face her. “How about those oatmeal pancakes Isla was talking about. Think we should give those a try?” That earns him a smile and an enthusiastic nod.

  Ben kisses her head, grabs my hand, and drags me down the hall. In the bedroom, he leads me to the side of the bed and pats the mattress.