She was tugging her boot back on, intending to try and climb what was left of the stairs, when she became aware that her leather jacket was missing. That was odd. She didn’t remember taking it off. There were large, long cuts on her arms that were bleeding freely, but Andy disregarded them, since they caused her no pain.
She’d taken two steps, and come across an arm that she didn’t recognize, when someone took hold of her shoulder.
“Miss. You can’t go up there.”
Andy turned, and tried to wrench away from the alien form of the firefighter with his helmet on and visor down.
“But… my friend… there’s people…”
The firefighter took a firmer hold of Andy’s arm and tugged. She lost her footing, and he caught her and lifted her into his arms. He began to carry her towards the street.
“But… Jackie… the others…”
“Miss, your friend is receiving medical attention. It’s our job to go looking up there, not yours. You need to get to a hospital.”
Andy tried to find the words to make him understand how important it was that she go up the stairs, that she needed to see if anyone else was alive, that there would be people up there, lots of people. But before she knew it, the firefighter was dropping her onto a gurney. The street was crowded with emergency vehicles and flashing lights. Firefighters, police and paramedics were rushing around in between the knots of dazed survivors. It was barely-organized bedlam.
“Shock, possible concussion, and multiple lacerations. Walking wounded.” The firefighter stated to the paramedic who started prodding at her, and shining a flashlight into her eyes.
As soon as the firefighter let go of her, Andy tried to get up off the gurney, but now the paramedic held her down. “No, miss. You need to come with us.” A strap was fastened over her pelvis to prevent her from getting up, and then a second paramedic appeared and the world dipped and tilted as the legs on the gurney folder in on themselves as she was shoved into the back of a waiting ambulance.
The journey to the hospital was a blur of questions and tests. The pain of the cuts on her arms and face was beginning to seep through the thick blanket of shock. As the pain came, so did nausea. All the heat seemed to leave Andy’s body, and she began to shiver uncontrollably, The medics tucked a silver foil blanket around her.
The confusion at the hospital was too much for her battered senses. Andy shut her eyes and tried to block everything out, but people kept asking her questions, her name, her address, the date, her date of birth. She tried to answer them, but the effort of delving into the confused mess of her brain made her head ache.
When darkness began to creep in at the edges of her vision, Andy didn’t fight it.
Chapter Eighteen
Chiz hadn’t known that Samuel had been watching his phone conversation with Elmo, until his president grabbed a hold of his arm as he’d hurried through the clubhouse.
“What’s up, son?”
Chiz tried to shake his arm free, but Samuel didn’t loosen his grip. “I don’t know. I was talkin’ to Elmo then… Fuck, boss. I’m sure I heard an explosion. The line went dead. I’ve got to get there.” It sounded ridiculous, even as he was saying it, but he knew he needed to get to Alabama. If the keys to his bike had been in a pocket in his coveralls, he’d have been on his way already.
Samuel gave him an assessing look, then let go of his arm and stepped out of his way. “Okay, but you’re not on your own.”
Chiz didn’t much care. He was going for Elmo come hell or high water. He hurried into his room and changed swiftly. As he was shrugging his kutte back on over a hoodie, and going to grab his keys from the dresser, he had a second thought. He pulled the rucksack out of its drawer, and shoved a couple of changes of clothes into it. He didn’t take the time to remove the precious memento it contained. He had to trust that he was about to be reunited with the real thing.
He refused to believe that Elmo was dead. If he let that thought hold sway, then he could only see a grey expanse in front of him that froze his brain and numbed his limbs. He needed to believe that she was breathing in order to move, and if she was breathing, then he wouldn’t be leaving her side for a while.
He rushed out into the sunlight, and was nearly at his bike, when he became aware of Shark sitting astride his own bike with the engine idling and Samuel waiting by him.
“You got your phone, brother?”
Chiz had to pat the zipped pocket of his kutte to double check before he could answer his president’s question.
“Yeah”
“Good. Shark’s goin’ with you. No arguin’.”
Chiz only nodded as he began to stuff the rucksack into his saddlebags. He fairly jumped onto his bike and started the engine, twisting the throttle hard. Samuel grabbed his arm again.
“You need to get there in one piece, son. You’re no use to her smeared on the highway.”
Samuel handed him the helmet he’d forgotten. Chiz clipped it quickly in place, and nodded his goodbye to Samuel, too impatient to be on his way to speak. As he peeled away, Shark revved his own engine, and followed him.
The hours it took them to get to Alabama seemed to be endless. Only after he’d passed the state line did Chiz begin to think about how in the hell he was going to find Elmo. If there had been a blast, and she’d been caught in it, she was unlikely to be at home. When he’d phoned, he’d been guessing she’d be at the club, but he’d heard street noises. He decided to go to the club first. There were people there who would be most likely to know her whereabouts.
Chiz’s heart sank when he turned onto the street that Elmo’s club was on, and he came up against the police cordon. He cut his engine and swung off his bike, unclipping his helmet along the way. He ducked under the crime-scene tape, intending to look for someone who could tell him what in the hell was going on. The street looked like a scene from a post-apocalypse sci-fi film. There were people in white coveralls, with the hoods up, walking through the debris-strewn street. There were fire engines further down, parked close to the curb. Everything was muted by a film of grey dust. Chiz didn’t give a shit whether Shark was following him or not. He’d barely acknowledged his brother at all on the journey.
Chiz was heading in the direction of one of the stationary police cruisers, when a patrolman blocked his path.
“Back behind the line. You can’t be here.”
“What the fuck is goin’ on?”
The cop’s attitude hardened in a second. “Behind the line. Now”
Chiz felt someone tugging him backwards. He was going to turn and take a swing until he saw that it was Shark.
“Sorry, officer.” Shark was speaking more calmly than anyone had a right to, in Chiz’s opinion. “My brother here has a friend who works ‘round here. He’s worried about her is all. Can you tell us what’s goin’ on?”
The officer didn’t answer until Shark had pulled Chiz back, and forced him back onto the other side of the yellow and black ribbon.
“They’re collectin’ evidence. You can’t get in the way of that. There was an explosion. They’re not givin’ a cause yet.”
“Which building?” If it hadn’t been for Shark’s restraining arm, Chiz would have just punched the cop and gone where the fuck he wanted.
“The Pumpkin Patch. It’s… it was… a strip club.”
The word fell away under Chiz’s feet. “Was anyone inside?”
The patrolman’s expression softened slightly. “Yeah, they’re still pullin’ bodies out.”
“Did anyone survive?” Shark asked the question that Chiz was too stunned to.
“Yeah. They’ve taken them over to the University hospital. You know the way?”
Shark was listening to the directions. Chiz couldn’t take them in. He was still struggling to make sense of what was happening. The modicum of calm he’d found on the ride had deserted him.
Shark thanked the officer, and began to guide Chiz back to their bikes. “You sure she’s not tucked up at hom
e, brother.”
“I heard the bang. The line went dead. She was in it.”
“Then get your head in the game, and let’s go find out if she’s alright.”
Chiz nodded, and climbed astride his bike. He felt completely numb. He had to shake his hands out before he could even turn the key.
He followed Shark through the city to the hospital. It had been several hours since his phone call to Elmo, but there was still a phalanx of ambulances outside the ER. Chiz did not take that as a good sign. They found somewhere to safely abandon their bikes.
Shark stopped Chiz before he could run into the hospital. “Brother, let me do the talkin’. I appreciate your state of mind, but swearin’ at people ain’t gonna get you the info you need.”
“Talk quick, then.”
Shark nodded, and led the way inside.
On the other side of the sliding doors, doctors and nurses were rushing around. People with minor injuries from the blast, minor burns and cuts, sat waiting to be seen, along with everyday stomachaches and mysterious rashes. It took Shark a moment, but eventually he managed to locate a woman in patterned scrubs who seemed to be in charge of the waiting area. Chiz obeyed his instruction to stay put while he went to talk to her.
After a few moments, during which Chiz could see Shark getting progressively more agitated while gesticulating at the nurse, Shark returned to his side.
“She won’t tell us shit. We’re not family. I’m not convinced she knows shit anyway.”
“Well, look who showed up.” Chiz and Shark both turned to find the source of the disdainful voice. Shane was looking straight at Chiz, and he wasn’t looking particularly friendly.
“Do you know what happened to her? To Andy? Is she okay?”
“Why the fuck do you care?” Shane looked quizzical for a moment, then his face began to fill with rage. “And how the fuck did you know somethin’ had happened. How come you got here so fast?”
This time it was Chiz holding Shark back. Shark was mightily offended on his behalf.
“That’s not really your business, but I was on the phone with her when whatever happened, happened. I heard the explosion. Do you know if she’s okay or not?”
Shane considered Chiz for a moment, the anger leaked away from his expression by slow degrees. Chiz could tell that the bigger man was thinking about lying to him. Eventually he decided otherwise,
“Yeah, she’s okay, kinda. She’s here. Come on, I’ll take you to her.”
“I’ll wait here.” Shark volunteered. “They’ll get a bug up their ass if all of us go troopin’ through.”
Chiz nodded, and followed Shane as he led the way through the department to a curtained cubicle. His heart was in his mouth as Shane pulled the patterned drapes aside; he had no idea what to expect on the other side.
Elmo was lying in the bed with her eyes closed. She looked even paler than usual, and there were dark smudges under her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess. The top part of the bed was up, so she was almost sitting up rather than lying. She was wearing a hospital gown, and the covers were folded at her waist. There were a dozen or more small cuts littered over her beautiful face. Her arms were resting on top of the covers. They were both bandaged from her wrists to her elbows.
Chiz didn’t think he’d ever experienced such a surge of relief. It made his knees weak, it rested heavily on his lungs and it made his eyes itch. He went straight to Elmo, and picked up one of her hands, rubbing it gently between both of his. He simply needed to touch her, to make sure that the person on the bed wasn’t an apparition borne of wishing.
Elmo’s eyes cracked open. She winced as she came awake more fully.
“You came.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a hoarse gasp.
“I wasn’t lyin’, doll.” Chiz perched on the side of her bed. Elmo winced again.
“You okay?”
She tried to speak, but her throat clicked dryly. Chiz looked around the cubicle and spotted a plastic jug of water, and a matching glass on the stand by the bed. He poured some water into the glass and lifted it gently to her lips so that she could take small, grateful sips. When she pulled her head back, he returned the glass to the stand.
“Better?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you get caught in it, doll?”
“I was on the street. The explosion knocked me down. I must’ve banged my head somewhere, they said I’ve got a concussion.”
Elmo’s face twisted, and she gave way to a strangled sob.
“I tried to get to them. I found Jackie, but I couldn’t get to them. Any of them. I think they’re all dead.”
Chiz pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest, but not as tightly as he wanted to. He murmured soothing sounds into her ear as he stroked her hair, trying to calm her shaking body.
Chiz looked over his shoulder at Shane. “Anyone say what caused it?”
Shane inclined his head towards Elmo and shook his head, indicating that he wasn’t prepared to speak in front of her. Chiz nodded to show his understanding. He held her until she stopped crying, then he laid her gently back down on the bed.
“What happened to your arms?” Chiz touched the edge of one of the pristine bandages.
“Glass.” Elmo hiccupped back a tired sob. “All the windows on the street blew out. It was everywhere.”
The curtains rustled as a nurse came bustling into the cubicle. She paused when she saw both men, and scowled at Chiz. He guessed he wasn’t supposed to be sitting on the bed, but he didn’t care much.
The nurse addressed Elmo. “Miss Broussard, the doctor wants to check you over before you go home.” The nurse looked at Chiz, then Shane, then back to Chiz, notably focusing on his kutte. “You can’t drive, though. Do you need me to call you a cab?”
Chiz glanced over at Shane who shrugged. “Guess so. I rode in, too.”
The nurse sighed like a mother exasperated by her misbehaving children. “Perhaps you boys would like to give Miss Broussard some privacy? The doctor will be along shortly, and I’m sure she won’t want to dress with an audience.”
Elmo clutched at Chiz’s hand. He squeezed hers in return. “We won’t go far, doll. I’ll come back for you.” She nodded, and reluctantly let go of his fingers.
The curtains parted again as the doctor swept in. Chiz figured he was getting old because all the doctors he encountered were starting to look younger, like, not-old-enough-to-have-graduated-high-school-yet younger.
“I’ll be back soon, doll.” Ignoring the doctor’s look of disapproval, Chiz pressed a kiss to Elmo’s forehead before he followed Shane out of the cubicle and back to the reception area. Shark was still standing at the door. His sheer size, along with the kutte, encouraged people to give him a wide berth. He was an island of calm amid an ocean of pandemonium.
“Shark, meet Shane. Shane, this is Shark.” Chiz affected the introductions with a wave of his hand. The two men, both walking mountains in size, acknowledged each other with a nod. Shark was obviously still not feeling too friendly.
“So, wha’d’ya know?” Chiz asked.
Shane looked around them, then dropped his voice low as he spoke. “They’re sayin’ it could be anythin’, a gas leak or some shit like that. Bullshit. It was bomb.”
Chiz immediately understood the need for discretion. If nothing else, the B word would unleash panic in the crowded room. “Why the fuck would anyone want to blow her club up?”
“We’ve been havin’ some difficulty with a church down the block. The First Church of Christ. Real hardliners. They’ve been hasslin’ us for months, ever since they found out we catered to that bit more. Usually they just camped out and shouted at the customers. The other night they went for the boss lady personally.”
Chiz was assaulted by more emotions than he could name. Shane noticed the effect his words had had.
“Not like that.” He assured Chiz quickly. “She got home to graffiti all over her house. They must’ve been real stealthy, the neighbors
didn’t see shit. The law don’t wanna know. Kept sayin’ they couldn’t do anythin’ while it was just nuisance shit.”
“This is a bit more than nuisance shit.” Shark said. “How many were hurt?”
Shane ran his hand over the bandana covering his head and tugged at his ponytail. “I’ve been here since I got the call from one of the guys who owns a bar opposite. It looks like almost everyone inside was killed. Four of ours, four customers, Joe, the other guy who worked the door with me, and two cleaners. Eleven people in all. Joe was blown clear out the building, right through the widow onto the street. The only person who was inside who made it was Jackie. You remember her?”
Breath on the Wind Page 19
