Ben & Matilda- Infinite Promise
Page 22
Kai looks up from his phone, where his eyes have been glued to most of the night. “When they ended the search, it was dark. Normally, they would have ended sooner, but they only had a little further in the section, so they wanted to finish off to be able to start fresh in the morning. We should hear something soon.”
Just as he says it, his phone rings. “It’s Thea.” He answers the call placing it on speaker. “Hey! Well, what’s the news?”
There’s a pause on the other end, then Thea clears her throat. “It wasn’t Ati. They found two Caucasian males, in their late twenties to mid-thirties. They both sustained life-threatening injuries, but at this point, they are still alive and being rushed to U of W hospital. That’s all the information they can give me until their identities have been confirmed.”
“What does that mean for my sister?”
We all turn to see Gwen standing in the doorway, tears running down her face. There’s no reply from my sister on the other end. “Thea, what does that mean for my sister?” Gwen yells.
Thea starts to explain. “They won’t be able to go back out until morning, but they’ve searched the area that they knew the plane went down. They’ve found nothing. Gwen, I’m sorry.”
Gwen collapses, almost falling to the floor before Kai catches her. Liam is also right there to help his wife as she breaks down in his arms. This is it. It’s real. That was the confirmation, you could hear it in my sister’s voice. They have no idea where she is and have lost any hope that she’s still alive.
It’s all closing in on me—the walls, and even my family around me. I can’t breathe. I need air. Someone needs to get me the hell out of here.
How in the hell did this happen—how can she be gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
-Matilda-
It’s been at least four or five days; I thought they would have found us by now. I’m getting weaker by the minute, and my body is starting to shut down as I’m sure is Quinn’s. He doesn’t say anything or let on that he’s scared, he’s just been positive through this whole thing. But he must be just as worried because he knows as well as I do, that with each passing moment, our chances of getting out of here alive, get slimmer and slimmer.
“What day are we on, Quinn?”
“Five.”
“You still think they’re going to find us before it’s too late, or has your optimism veered more to that of a realist.”
He lets out a chuckle. “Au contraire mon, petite Belle. Today’s the day. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Well, if your bones feel anything like mine, then they have been in extreme pain the whole time, and that is in no way an indication of anything,” I reply.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the boulder—you’ve got a serious grump-on today,” he jokes.
“You are the worst. Only you would kid at a time like this. I’m serious, though. Five days is a lot of time to pass. I don’t think they know where we are, Quinn. Maybe on the impact, the plane was pushed way off of its original coordinates.”
“At, they’ll find us. Don’t give up. You know they will find us.”
I shake my head at his unwavering faith. “Question is, will they find us before we’re both dead?”
Quinn lets out a breath. “You know what you need?”
“Let me guess, a dose of your impenetrable confidence.”
“Well, it definitely wouldn’t hurt—you’ve been somewhat of a killjoy. But no, you, my little blonde bestie, need a distraction,” Quinn says with a hint of authority in his tone. “Really? And what do you propose, my oversized, bossy, imperious, dictatorial, domineer—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You think I'm pushy. But how about instead of sitting around here—”
“Neither of us is hardly upright and haven’t been since that plane met the broad side of that mountain. So, you want to start your motivational address again? This time maybe lead with a, ‘since we’re just laying around here on the cold hard surface of our demise, dot-dot-dot. Go on, let’s see what you got.”
He lets out a groan. “I pity the man that gets stuck with you on a mountain the next time.”
“Haven’t you been listening to me, Quinn? That’s what I have been trying to very obviously point out. There won’t be a next time, because our time is up. Saint Peter himself is calling our number.”
“Do you think Gwen, your sister, or Ben, the man that loves you more than anything in this world, is going to let you die up here?”
“My sister will do her best, but Ben could care less. He’s moved on.”
“At, if you had seen the way he looked at you, you wouldn’t be saying that he has moved on. There is no way he just moved on.”
I’m definitely dehydrated, but I can still produce tears because they are welling up in my eyes as the memory of Alex standing in his front window comes to mind.
“Quinn, he was standing there with her having coffee, and she was wearing his t-shirt. He was smiling. They looked happy. She makes him happy.”
“Bull. Shit. There is no way he has even looked at another woman since you have been together. At, I may be gay, but the look a man gets in his eyes when he’s looking at the person he loves is all the same. I know this because it’s the same look I’ve seen in Abe’s eyes when he looks at me, and I’m sure the same one I have when I look at him. It’s love…pure, simple, and irrevocable love. So, the little squabble you two had at the family barbeque, is hardly going to change that for him. At, I’m not saying that he wasn’t upset, and I’m not playing down the severity of his emotions at the time. What I am saying, though, is that there is no way that man just did a complete switch off and moved on to another woman that quickly. There’s more to the story, and you need to hear him out before you go off ruining the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
I lay there in silence, trying to sort out what I am feeling at this moment. If Ben feels even a tiny bit of how I do, toward him, then maybe Quinn is right. But he’s always so guarded with me, like he won’t let me in that last step, and that there, gives me pause. It has me questioning what we have and how he feels toward me. “He’s holding back with me.”
“Why do you think that is?” Quinn asks.
“I don’t know. But he’s still not completely letting me in. There is something keeping him from giving himself over fully, and I’m scared this is all another replay of what happened the last time. Him bottling up all his misgivings and worries until ultimately, he just gives up and pushes me away.”
I can hear Quinn’s evenly measured breaths. “Have you told him that you love him?”
“Of course, I have. Well, I mean, I think I have. I don’t know that we’ve done the whole declaration thing this time, but he knows I do,” I reply, yet trying to recall if I have told Ben that I love him.
“So, you’re assuming that he’s stepped out of his male tunnel-visioned blinders and is able to now read your mind, and know the intention of that brilliant, yet still, very clueless mind of yours,” Quinn lets out—and no, I don't miss the little jab in there.
“So, what you’re saying is that because I haven’t said to him that I love him more than anything, that he has the right to go off and get with another woman because what, I once slept with Brock and he didn’t approve of it?”
He sighs. “No, what I’m saying is the male ego is fragile, and if he saw Brock as competition in any way, that would have done a lot to shoot him down if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure where he stood.”
“That’s ridiculous. This is Ben, by no means does he lack in the self-esteem department. He’s bright, kind, loving, and extremely hot, and knows it. There is no way he feels that Brock is a threat.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You can’t just posture a thought and not explain your reasoning as to why you think that,” I reply.
“Fine. I’ve dealt with a lot of opinions and judgments over the years. Some very out in the open, and admitted
ly some that I may have just conjured up in my head. But they both present the same. You will eventually start to question yourself, your capabilities, and even if you're good enough for something or, more importantly, someone. With women, it’s different. You feel and know it’s okay to be open and honest about your feelings. But men, we’re not wired that way. We’re not so free-giving with that information. We feel it shows weakness. Like I said, fragile ego and all. Look, all I’m saying is, consider maybe that Ben sees Brock as competition. I mean I’ve seen how Brock interacts with people; the man has charisma in spades—he could talk the panties off a ninety-year-old nun, and that with the fact that you haven’t actually told Ben that he is the one that you love, and assured him of his place in your future, I can see where there may be some reservation on his part.”
Then it comes to me. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I think I may have led him to believe that I had different priorities other than him or, even a life with him at the moment.”
“Okay, and those were?”
I let out a breath. “Work and getting my residency done. I told him that I didn’t want to even think of kids until I’d reached my goals as far as my career goes.”
“Ah, yeah, I can see where that may have caused some doubt in his mind.”
“Okay, but I also told him that once I was done, I would like to start considering to settle down. My intention was always to settle down with him, just not right then.”
“Do you think maybe he saw that as a sign that you weren’t as committed as he was?”
Could that have been what Ben thought? Did he really see that as me saying I’m not sure about him...about us?
“I guess he may have, now that you brought it to my attention. But that’s still no excuse for his actions at the party when he asked me about Brock, or him running away and being with another woman. I mean, he’s an adult...man up.”
Quinn lets out a laugh. “First of all, you just said man-up, the biggest contradiction ever. I still, to this day, have no idea how that saying gained any momentum. I am yet to meet a man that owns up to anything without some dynamic force, most times a woman, right behind him, giving him a swift kick in the ass or at least opening his eyes to his wrongdoings. And secondly, sometimes it’s as simple as, we just need to hear it said like—I want to be with you and you only, and that will never change.”
“So, I’m right, it is my fault. That’s what you’re saying, right? That I’m to blame.”
“No, never admit to anything. Have you not been listening to a word I have said? You were not wrong. You did nothing wrong. You were right to tell him what you wanted. You were the one that had to work hard to get to where you are, and if you want to see it through first before starting something else, that’s up to you, and not wrong in any way. But the man is going to probably need some reassurance along the way.”
Then there it is, another flash of Alex standing in his window. “He did it before.”
“Did what?”
“He moved right to someone else as soon as we broke up. Actually, the same woman, who at the time, I had accused him that there was something happening with.”
“Was there?”
I let out a sigh. “Yeah, kind of. Not full-on affair, but there was something, then as soon as we ended things, he started dating her and dated her for a while.”
“Ah, now I see.”
I arch my back a little trying to catch a glimpse of Quinn, but other than a sharp pain, it does nothing. I ditch my efforts and lay back down. “See what?”
“That maybe he’s sensing some of your own hesitations, and seeing that you, yourself are holding back in the relationship. You accused him of not opening up fully, but I don’t think he’s the only culprit. You’ve been doing the same thing.”
“I have reason to be,” I let out maybe a little too sharply, but Quinn takes no offense.
“As does he, At.”
Not wanting this conversation to continue any longer, I close my eyes. “I’m tired. Will you be okay if I rest for a bit?”
“Of course. I always got you, At.”
With my eyes closed and energy depleted, it’s not long before I am in a deep, almost coma-like sleep.
***
‘Ati. Ati. Hey, Ati. Can you hear me?’ The voice was soft, almost as though it is off in the distance.
Exhaustion still taking over my body, I struggle to open my eyes, but I am able to call out to Quinn. “Do you hear that?”
“At, open your eyes.” His voice is close like a whisper in my ear.
“I’m trying, but it’s hard. I’m so tired.”
“Come on, At, I know you can do it. Open them for me. Please.”
Taking a deep breath, I manage to slightly open them, and as I do, the warmth that I felt off of him disappears, replaced with what is the sight of a man in full gear and a helmet calling out commands. “Her vitals are weak, but she’s alive. Send down the spinal board and cage.”
The man looks down at me, a smile crossing his face. “Hey, there, little girl. Did you call for an Uber?”
“Kai?”
“The one and only. Vacation time is over now, so I’m here to bring you home.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Quinn?”
I start to look behind me, but Kai stops me securing my head. “Ati, you need to stay really still for me until I can get you secure, okay?”
A big metal basket descends from above, and he reaches for it, guiding it in to place behind him. Then pulls a spinal board from the basket.
“It’s my legs. They’re broken.”
He nods with a smirk. “Just a precaution. Better safe than sorry. Now, lay back and let me do my job, Dr. Batin.”
After a few minutes, Kai has me secured and is signaling to pull me up. I tried to see Quinn when I was going up, but Kai was blocking my view. He’ll work on getting him next.
I’m lying there when Kai follows up, but no Quinn with him.
“What about Quinn? We can’t just leave him there.”
Kai looks to me, showing some concern. “We already got him, Ati. He’s already been picked up.”
I let out a sigh of relief. They must have been working around me when I passed out.
“Do you know how he is? Was it his back? We thought it might have been a spinal cord injury.”
Kai looks into my eyes. There’s something there that I can’t quite read. “Ati, I need you to just relax. Stay with me, but relax. We’ll be at the pickup point soon enough, then they will take you to where the others are at U of W hospital. They will tell you more there.”
My eyes open wide. “Abe and Brock...there alive?”
“Alive, yes, but in critical condition. They’ve sustained some bad injuries, Ati. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”
I look to him, and that sympathetic look is still in his eye. There’s more he’s not telling me, but that’s okay because I’m not sure that I’m quite ready to hear it.
Within minutes the helicopter lands, and I am instantly transferred to a stretcher and put into the back of the ambulance. I’m alone in there with the EMT.
“How do you feel? Can you tell me your name?”
“Matilda Batin. From what I know, I was in a plane crash. I believe I only sustained minor injuries, miraculously, but I do think I’ve fractured both Tibia. I don’t have any dizziness, but I am quite cold and thirsty.”
The EMT nods. “I’m going to guess you have a medical background?”
“Yes. I’m an Obstetric resident at Gary hospital.”
“Good. Okay, well, I do need you to stay still, because although you are a doctor, you don’t have the ability to assess whether or not you have a back injury. I’m going to work on you a little, get you hooked up to an I.V. and wrapped to try and slowly bring your body temp up until we can get to the hospital, and they can take over.”
“Okay.”
The EMT works away diligently as I work through the steps of the process i
n my head. He’s good and quite efficient. “You’re good at this.”
He looks to me and smiles. “Thank you. I don’t get much praise about my technique, mostly just a lot of crying and complaining of pain.”
I let out a laugh. “Well, I’ll be sure to leave you a good review.”
He joins in my laughter. “You’re in pretty good spirits considering all you’ve been through. They are saying that you’ve been up there for close to six days.”
“That’s all thanks to my friend, Quinn. He never let me give up hope and kept me from going crazy.”
“Sounds like the perfect kind of friend to have around at a time like that,” he says. “They didn’t mention anyone else was up there, and no one else was in the helicopter when it landed.”
“No, they took him down first. I’m pretty sure he was worse than I was,” I explain.
He nods in understanding. “Okay, well, just lay back and relax. We should be at the hospital in about twenty minutes.”
***
When we reach the hospital, the doors to the ambulance fly open, and there is a team assembled ready to take over. The EMT runs through what he knows as far as my injuries, and what he has done. They quickly remove me from the ambulance, and I am pushed through the sliding doors and wheeled into a room.
“Dr. Batin, how are you feeling? Can you recall if you lost consciousness at any time?”
I look at the doctor at my side. I know his questions are typical procedure, but what does he expect me to say, ‘no actually, when the plane hit the mountain, it was like hitting a cloud, and when I was ejected, I landed softly on a bed of mass boulder.’ Seriously, of course, I lost consciousness.
“Yes, but I have no idea for how long. Beyond that, no, I dosed in and out, but that was most likely due to fatigue.”
“Level of pain on a scale of zero to ten, ten being the worst,” he asks.
“Right now, about an eight. But I’ve been dealing with it for so long, it’s almost bearable now,” I reply.