“Haven’t seen them.”
“I’ll be right back.” Chase inhaled fresh oxygen into his lungs before running back out into the hall. Behind him he could hear the rescue worker shouting, “Wait! It’s suicide going back in there.”
Ignoring the encroaching flames, he ran down the hallway, praying he’d find Paul with a pulse. Holding his arm out-stretched, he counted the door frames as he ran past them. The smoke was growing thicker and blacker, making visibility next to nothing. If he remembered correctly, he figured he’d been about fifteen rooms down, which would mean Paul was in room fourteen. Chase knew this would be his last trip back. In the back of his mind, he knew that if he made it back from this second run, it would be a miracle. It was a thought he continued to shrug off even as he entered the fourteenth room. The window in the room cast enough light inside that he could make out the hospital bed with the form still lying in it.
Just as he began to wonder where Paul had gone, he tripped over something on the floor falling elbow-first into the hospital bed. Dazed, he guided his hand along the floor, searching for the object that had tripped him. After scouring about a foot of linoleum, his hand felt an object. At first, all he felt was fabric. Fabric quickly turned into skin the moment that he realized what had become of Paul.
He couldn’t leave Paul here to die. Paul had been brave enough to put his life on the line just as he had. With great difficulty and using the last ounce of strength he had, he lifted Paul, positioning him onto his back. In doing so, dizziness suddenly overcame him. Almost dropping Paul, he crashed into the wall, a cough escaping his burning throat. If he didn’t get out of here now, he was sure he would die.
Time seemed to move slower as he entered the hallway with Paul’s deadweight weighing him down heavily with each footstep. His coughs were increasing in frequency and the dizziness was almost too much to bear, but on he went. He mustered up strength he didn’t know existed, swearing that, at times, it felt like he had left his body and was watching the figure of himself trudging down the hall.
“Come on,” he told himself. “You won’t die here, not now.” But he knew there was only so much smoke a person could inhale before dying was completely out of their control. With lungs blazing, Chase entered the escape room.
“You’re damn lucky,” the rescuer yelled. “We were about ready to pull the ladder away.”
Chase coughed uncontrollably, leaning down to prop Paul against the window frame. “Here,” he said between coughs. “Take him down. I’ll follow you.”
“You’d better. It doesn’t sound like you’d make it much longer in there.”
The rescuer motioned for assistance from the crew on the ground and, once the other crew member joined them, Chase lowered an unconscious, limp Paul down the ladder into the arms of the awaiting rescuers. Taking one last look at the inside of Hope Memorial, he proceeded out of the window and down the ladder. He was shaky from the lack of oxygen in his blood. It was a feeling he knew would pass but it was still incredibly uncomfortable nonetheless. When he reached the ground, he went over to Paul to assess his condition. Paul’s skin was ashen, his lips blue, a sign that he wasn’t breathing. Chase hastily examined him, feeling his wrists for signs of a pulse. There was none. Frantically, he opened Paul’s mouth, realizing why. Suet had caused Paul’s throat to swell shut, making an impasse for air and ensuring that CPR would be fruitless.
“Help me take him to one of the tents,” Chase barked an order to one of the rescuers. He grabbed Paul’s midsection while the rescuer grabbed a hold of his legs. A tracheostomy was the only thing that could save Paul and he needed it done now. Placing him on a surgical table from equipment that was both salvaged from Hope Memorial and brought over from nearby Grace University Hospital, Chase made a quick assessment of his surroundings and available resources. Rushing over to him, a nurse offered her assistance.
“What do we have here, doctor?”
“I need a scalpel…fast. He needs a tracheostomy or he’s not going to make it.”
The nurse scrambled to locate a scalpel on a nearby tray. “I’ll get the trach tube from Grace.” She hurried across the tent area in search of a tube.
Taking a deep breath, Chase made a horizontal incision across Paul’s neck directly above the sternum, dissecting the skin, effectively exposing the trachea. The nurse appeared with the trach tube. “Good timing,” he said amidst an incision to the tracheal ring. Without taking his eyes from his work, he asked the nurse to find sutures, dressings, a ventilator and a d-fib.
“The sutures and dressings are already on that tray,” she said, pointing to the small stainless steel freestanding tray. “But I think they’re using all of the heavy equipment right now,” she announced dejectedly.
“Just see what you can come up with.”
The young nurse nodded and ran off to go foraging through the tents. Chase inserted the tracheostomy tube into the incision. He then located the sutures on the tray and proceeded to weave them through Paul’s wound, closing up the incision surrounding the tracheostomy. It was an operation performed under less than perfect circumstances with the risk for infection being exceptionally high but, for what it was worth, he’d made do with the available resources. Even though, despite his best efforts, he knew that if the right equipment could not be found, Paul was as good as dead.
“Doctor Matthews,” the nurse came rushing back with another doctor following hot on her heels. Chase noticed a cart being pulled behind them and did a double take to confirm that he saw what he thought he was seeing. On the cart being pulled by the nurse and pushed by the Grace University physician was a ventilator and defibrillator, both of which Paul’s life depended upon.
He may have a chance after all, Chase thought. Chase grabbed the cart from the nurse, pulling it the rest of the way to the surgical table, where he hooked it up to the tracheostomy tube while the other doctor started it in motion. Re-checking Paul for a pulse, Chase was relieved when he was able to locate a weak one in Paul’s carotid. After several minutes of working on him, the color slowly began to return to Paul’s face, replacing the blue-grayish hue.
“Good job, doctor. It would appear that you have saved this man’s life,” the doctor from Grace University proclaimed.
“He’s not out of the woods yet. It’s hard telling how long his brain was deprived of oxygen.” Dizziness had resumed its battle with him and was overtaking his body even more so than before. He stumbled to a folding chair, sitting down with his head lowered to try to counteract its effects.
“Don’t be so modest, doctor,” the young nurse joined in. “Without you, he never would have had a chance.”
Chase held his head in his hands, the voices of the doctor and nurse nothing more than mere mumbles in his ears; his vision was fading. Instead of breathing, he was now wheezing as he had heard Paul do.
With concern in her voice, the nurse asked, “Are you all right, Dr. Matthews?”
Chase nodded, knowing full well everything was far from all right. Before today, he’d passed out exactly two times in his life and he knew the feeling very well.
“Dr. Matth…” Chase looked up at the nurse and then slumped from his chair to the ground.
“Someone grab an oxygen mask!”
As he drifted further into unconsciousness, his thoughts traveled back to Celaine, her radiant smile as beautiful as he remembered, a trail of blonde hair flowing from her while she motioned for him to join her in her run through the halls of Hope Memorial.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Impossible
Blake was struggling as I’d never seen him before, as I’d never thought possible. He wasn’t going to die in front of me. Not without a fight. In pain, I picked myself up from the pile of splintered wood comprising the remains of the pallet that had disintegrated upon my impact. Rushing at The Man in Black, I struck him with the full force of my body, only to be met with solid resistance as soon as we made contact. It was like slamming into a brick wall, and it
caused me to end up flat on my back without having even budged him. Instead, I just barely succeeded in jostling him enough so that Blake was able to wriggle free, escaping the wrath of the wooden spear.
Furious, The Man in Black turned his attention to me, lifting his enormous arm like a sadistic mallet. Completely mesmerized by my first time ever having seen him in person outside of the simulator, I couldn’t help but notice the most striking characteristic about him: the disproportionate size of his extremities. His arms were massive. In the few seconds I had to analyze them, I came to the conclusion that there was no possible way they were organic in nature.
His arm swung at my head, prompting me to counter in defense by rolling my body sideways, coming within milliseconds of being struck by his battering ram of a fist. Springing back to my feet, I sprinted over to Blake before The Man in Black could realize I’d escaped his wrath.
“Are you all right?” Blake asked.
“Just splendid. You?”
“As far as I can tell, I am. That was amazing, by the way. I’ve never seen him outrun like that before.”
The Man in Black turned around, visibly angrier than before.
“He’s out for your blood now.”
“Let him bring it on. I’m out for some blood of my own.”
“Remember your training; flank him. Don’t try to go all Wonder Woman on me.”
As much as I wanted to abide by Blake’s orders, there was a storm brewing inside of me that, after ten years, had just about reached its climax. The calm before the storm was beginning to pass and the dark clouds were starting to roll in. And it was only a matter of time before I let the lightning strike.
“On my mark,” Blake’s voice resounded clearly within my ear piece.
My body tensed, each muscle making its presence known. I trained my sights on The Man in Black, contemplating my plan of attack.
“Now!” Blake ordered.
Together, our feet left the ground, zeroed in on a common target that few had attempted to hit but of which all had wished they could. Even though I was running faster than humanly possible, it still felt as though time was standing still, a few feet seemingly taking hours to traverse. My mind was racing with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. Would the last image my eyes captured be of this despicable monster? What does death feel like? Was I truly capable of killing another living being? Unlike most questions in life, these had answers which I would soon discover, ready or not.
“Jump!”
I followed Blake’s command. Simultaneously, we struck The Man in Black just as he was about to propel himself into the air to dodge our assault. The force of our blows hurtled him through the air into a shelving unit filled with pallets, snapping it in half. An avalanche of wood and steel greeted him seconds after he impacted on the concrete.
“Stand back,” Blake ordered. “He’s going to be really pissed now.”
“Do you think we’ve injured him?”
Blake chuckled. “Hardly, though I’m sure he’s rattled a bit.”
Seconds later, I felt something strike me, throwing me off my feet as it slammed me violently onto the floor. Intense pain erupted along the right side of my body. Looking up, I saw The Man in Black hurling bits of jagged steel like javelins. “It appears as though we’ve given him ammunition,” I said to Blake, jumping back to my feet, narrowly avoiding a piece of sharpened steel as it flew just inches from my head.
“If you can’t beat them, join them. Grab a piece of debris and let’s take care of business.”
I grabbed a broken piece of pallet while Blake opted to fight fire with fire with steel. Through his mask, I could detect a hint of a sneer on The Man in Black’s face as though the violence provided some sort of sick excitement for him.
“Time for another run. He’ll be expecting us this time, so be prepared.” Blake took off with me trailing just inches behind him. As he predicted, The Man in Black was ready for us, swinging a broken board. A sickening thud arose as it made contact with Blake, sending him rolling. With his attention diverted, I made my move, swinging the splintered pallet and knocking him off his feet. Satisfied with myself, I turned to Blake, expecting him to capitalize on my minor success but, instead of launching an assault, he remained balled up on the concrete where he’d come to a rolling stop. With The Man in Black still down, I dashed over to him. He was clutching his side in obvious pain.
“Blake…Blake…” I crouched down next to him. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine.”
His hand fell down from his side, revealing a tear in his suit. Blood was dripping from a small gash to his abdomen.
“How is that possible? I thought these things were indestructible.”
He winced. “They are...with regular maintenance and replacement for wear and tear. Nice shot, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
He stood up, doing his best to shake off the sudden loss of his invincibility, making me question just how protected we truly were. Looking past me, his eyes widened.
“Celaine! Jump!”
I looked up just in time to see him charging toward me, a look of pure demonic evil burning in his eyes. In swift response, my feet left the ground. However, it was a second too late, and I found myself being tackled by him, his massive form nearly crushing me into the ground. With a swift kick, I knocked him from me, but not before he landed a crippling blow to my chest, taking my breath away. Clearly reenergized, he took full advantage of my sudden handicap, and I felt my body levitate as he picked me up by my leg. Before I had the chance to fight back, he’d flung me through the air with my back striking the wall of the warehouse, sending me to the floor writhing in pain.
I lay on the ground where I landed, my head telling me to get up and fight, my body not allowing me to move anymore. Near my head, I heard the clunk, clunk of his feet approaching me. Dizzy, I looked up to see his ugly, masked face staring down at me in triumph. It was then that he did the unexpected: he spoke.
“This new one is more pathetic than the last partner you had. Surely, you didn’t think she would make a formidable opponent for me,” he smirked. “I’m going to take great joy in disposing of her.”
Hearing his voice, an almost mechanical one in nature, made only more of an oddity with his helmet in the way, sent me into a state of shock. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. To actually hear his voice, hear intelligible words come from him, gave him a more humanly air about him. Never before had I attributed The Man in Black in the category of “human”. This revelation paralyzed my mind along with my battered body.
“Over my dead body,” Blake responded through his teeth.
“Is that an invitation?”
“Take it as you will.”
“With pleasure.” He glanced back down at me. “I’ll be back to deal with you, sweetheart.” He put his hand up to the mouthpiece of his helmet, blowing me a kiss.
That voice resonated in my mind, echoing throughout the crevices of my cranium. Had it been the last one my family heard before the blast? Did he blow them the same kiss goodbye as he’d just blown to me? Did he laugh as he witnessed the parking ramp crumble before him? Did he enjoy the fear in his victims’ eyes as the life left their bodies? Each thought entering my head fueled my anger more, finally bringing my blood to a rapid boil. A surge of adrenaline coursed through my vapid veins, quickly invigorating them and putting my body and brain back on the same page. Picking myself up off the ground, I ignored the horrendous pain emanating in my chest.
Blake threw a punch at The Man in Black, knocking him back a couple of steps where he retaliated with a swift kick to Blake’s sternum. Unmoved, Blake performed a flying kick that, despite his best efforts, The Man in Black could not dodge. Blake’s boot blasted the side of his helmet, throwing him into a pile of broken desks and garbage. Although I was glad that Blake had knocked the evil bastard down a few pegs, I was miffed that I hadn’t been the one to do it. A strange feeling was beginning to overtake me. Pure ra
ge, like none I’d felt before, consumed me. Their faces appeared in my head, the scenario with him standing outside their window knowing the fate that beheld them, and them powerless to stop him.
“Are you all right?” I nodded my answer to Blake’s question. Physically, yes, I was quite amazingly all right; emotionally on the other hand…
“Now, when he gets up, wait for my mark. No matter how much he may trash talk you, I know you caught him off guard a few times. You’re a threat to him. He would have toyed with you more had you not been, instead of instantly wanting to kill you.”
I heard the words that Blake spoke, but I didn’t take them in. My mind was made up, his words were inconsequential to me now. It would be insubordination to the extreme, but I had to do it. The images from my dreams had haunted me for too long, and I wasn’t going to give him the chance to get away again.
He emerged, brushing garbage off his suit, metal bar in hand. Blake’s posture stiffened, his eyes scanning his opponent for any signs of weakness.
“On my mark,” Blake’s voice fell on deaf ears.
Spread before me now appeared the scene inside the parking ramp with just seconds left before the blast. It was me and The Man in Black with my parent’s vehicle in the background, their voices barely audible behind the vehicle’s metallic structure. Allowing my anger to consume me, I charged at The Man in Black of my nightmares.
“What the hell are you doing?” Blake shouted in my ear piece. I ignored him. He was mine, and I was going to claim him before he could claim them again. Lunging for my strike I, again, felt a massive force around my neck but, instead of choking me, this time it twisted my neck in a direction that necks could not normally twist. He was going for the kill. By breaking my neck, he would most likely succeed. I had failed them. I would die without having kept my promise, with allowing him to take something else from my family.
“I’m sorry,” I sputtered to the image of their car in the parking ramp.
Enigma Black Page 28
