“You know, the last time a man swept me off my feet was when I first got married,” Cathy said, adjusting her arms around his neck and clenching her jaw. “Never thought it would happen again, especially in the apocalypse.”
“I think I heard wedding bells. Didn’t you?” Russell shot back with a warm smile.
Cathy shook her head and smirked. “You’re an idiot, Cage. You know that?”
“Among other things, yes,” he replied.
Amber walked past the armed officer shouting at two men exchanging heated words within the meld of people. He eyed Russell for a split second, walked in front of him, and shoved his way toward the growing tumult.
Russell stopped to avoid running into him, then moved on once the officer passed by. He didn’t recognize the tall, muscular man from the department and the many times he had spent the night in the drunk tank.
The lobby of the hospital swarmed with a sea of people that shuffled through the facility within an inch of one another. Bruised and battered faces peered at Russell from under the white lights overhead. The amount of people funneling inside the building made Russell worry that Cathy wouldn’t be seen in a timely manner, or at all.
Amber forced her way through the crowd, pushing past people standing idle and looking about with lost, drawn faces.
“Hey,” she said, shouting over the endless chatter that filled the lobby to the nurse a few paces ahead of her.
The short, red-haired pink-skin-toned woman turned and walked away without acknowledging her. She tilted her head forward and looked at the clipboard clutched in her hand.
Amber reached out and poked the back of her arm with the tip of her fingers. The nurse stopped and turned to face her. Amber leaned in close and pointed at Russell and Cathy while speaking into her ear.
A large, plump man stepped in front of Russell, blocking his way through the crowd. The smell of onions radiated from his obese body. He stood with his wide back to Russell. The shirt covering the endless rolls of fat that rippled down his back had stains across most of the surface. Large spots were moist and clung to his flesh.
Russell craned his neck, trying to peer around the man. His arms stung with exhaustion. Standing there and supporting Cathy’s weight grew harder with each passing second.
Amber tapped the portly man’s arm and pushed past him. The fat rolls on the back of his head squished together as he stared at her. “They’re going to take a look at Mom. Come on.”
“That fast?” Russell asked, scrunching his brow in shock. “I figured we’d have to wait a while before even being acknowledged given how many people are standing around in here.”
“They’re prioritizing urgent cases right now,” Amber said, walking toward the nurse that waited on them. “Plus, I said she was dying and in need of immediate attention. That helped push her up the line.”
“Whatever gets us seen faster I’m down for,” Russell replied, following Amber.
The nurse checked Cathy’s pulse and studied the gunshot wound on her thigh, then led them through the sea of people and around the large counter that had the mob pressed against the rounded edge. She snapped her fingers at another nurse, then shouted at her.
Cathy rested the side of her head against Russell’s shoulder. Her lids closed and her tense body eased some. Both arms loosened from around his neck.
Russell adjusted his hold under Cathy’s body while on the move. He hoped they were staying on the bottom floor, and not having to move up to the upper levels of the hospital.
Doctors and nurses rushed by either side of them, calling out medical jargon and other terms that Russell didn’t understand. Subtle screams and painful wails loomed from the rooms they passed by.
The red-haired nurse stopped next to an empty gurney. She pointed at the crisp white sheets draped over the top. “Set her up here.”
Amber moved out of the way, giving Russell access to the gurney.
Russell lifted Cathy up and sat her down. He pulled his arm out from under her legs, then eased the back of her head against the pillow.
The nurse touched Amber’s arm, then pointed at the clipboard clutched in her hands. The both of them spoke for a short minute while Russell stood at Cathy’s side.
“Cage,” she said, lifting her lids up. “Watch after Max, will ya? Amber isn’t going to leave my side, and I doubt they’re going to let him inside the hospital. Besides, he isn’t going to want to be cooped up in here with all of these people.”
Russell nodded. “I will take good care of him. Just worry about getting better, all right?”
The nurse walked away.
Amber ran the palm of her hand over her face, then glanced at Cathy. “They’re going to take you back in a minute, Mom. How are you doing?”
“Peachy,” Cathy answered, giving a thumbs up. “I’m going to have Max hang with the boys, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
“Are you sure?” Amber asked, hovering above her head. “You always want him by your side. I can’t recall a time that you haven’t wanted him close, especially when you weren’t feeling well. I’m okay with it. Just want to be sure you are.”
A male nurse snaked his way through the glob of people moving behind Russell and approached the trio. His thick, black hair was a mess–face long and tired with exhaustion. Both eyes had a tint of red lurking within.
“We’ve got a room set up for you now,” he said, grabbing the silver steel rounded bar that rimmed the outside of the gurney.
Amber moved around the male nurse, and stood next to Russell.
Cathy reached for Russell’s hand.
Russell took her palm, and placed his other hand against hers.
“Find that wife of yours and be safe out there, all right?” Cathy said, squeezing his hand. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“I will. You get better, and we’ll be back soon,” Russell answered, giving Cathy a warm smile.
“Ma’am, we need to get you back,” the nurse said, rolling the gurney away.
Cathy released Russell’s hand, and laid her arm on the gurney next to her side.
“I’ll be down there shortly, Mom,” Amber said.
The nurse maneuvered the wheeled stretcher through the sea of people down the long stretch of corridor. He made a wide arch in the middle of the hallway, then pulled the gurney down the adjacent corridor.
Russell placed his hand on Amber’s shoulder. “She’ll be all right. Your mom is one of the toughest people I’ve ever met.”
Amber nodded, then folded her arms across her chest. “She is for sure.” She turned and looked up at Russell. “Please take good care of Max. He means the world to us.”
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be in good hands with us. Just focus on your mom.” Russell gave her shoulder a soft squeeze.
Amber smiled and walked away. She headed down the hallway and skirted past the blind corner in the direction Cathy was wheeled off.
Russell turned around and made his way back to the main entrance of the hospital. He rubbed his face and battled through a yawn. His lids closed for a split second. His hand balled into a fist and pressed to his mouth. He ran into someone walking in front of him.
“Hey, watch it,” an agitated, deep baritone voice said, irritated.
Russell flinched and stopped. Both lids snapped open. He held his hands up in front of him. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there.”
The police officer stared at him for a moment with a scowl. “No worries. Just watch where you’re going.”
The radio clipped to his shoulder went off. He grabbed the black receiver, then tilted his head toward the mic. “I’m at Massachusetts General Hospital providing backup for Diaz and Walters. There’s still a big crowd of folks here, over.”
Russell recognized the officer from the police station. He had escorted Russell in and out of the drunk tank on a number of occasions. They never talked or exchanged pleasantries, considering why he was there in the first place.
“Frank
, right?” Russell asked, pointing at him.
The officer listened to the incoming transmission while glancing at Russell. He nodded, then said, “Copy that. I’ll head over that way as soon as I can after seeing David.” He released the button to the radio. “Yeah. And you are?”
“Russell Cage. I’m good friends with David at the station.”
Frank nodded, then looked Russell up and down. “Yeah. I remember you. Word to the wise. I’d think twice about getting plastered anytime soon.”
Russell lifted his brow in curiosity. “Why is that?”
“Your buddy won’t be able to save your ass if you do,” Frank replied, curling his lips as he looked at him with contempt.
“Did something happen to David?” Russell asked, his voice thick with worry.
“Yeah,” Frank answered, rubbing his chin. “Found him in an alley. He was cut and shot up, but looks like he’s going to pull through. He’s one tough bastard.”
Russell’s chin dropped. His mind raced. He glanced around the lobby, lost. “Where is he?”
CHAPTER TEN
RUSSELL
The wave of people scurrying about the lobby of Massachusetts General Hospital seemed endless. It made it cumbersome for Russell to speak to Frank about David without the chatter chopping up his words.
“He’s in room twenty-five, but you can’t see him,” Frank answered in a raised voice, watching the people around them.
“Why not?” Russell shot back, leaning in closer to hear him better.
“Because he needs to rest, and we’re not letting anyone other than nurses, doctors, and fellow officers in to see him at the moment. You’ll just have to wait.” Frank pushed his way past Russell, heading toward the main entrance of the hospital. The palm of his hand grabbed the grip of his holstered sidearm as he approached a bickering crowd of people.
Russell watched Frank muscle his way into the arguing mob of haggard people, then drifted back toward the hallway in the direction of the rooms. He shoved his way past more folks that stood before him, searching the walls for any signs as to where to go.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” Russell touched a short, lean nurse with light-auburn hair who walked past him on her arm. “Can you tell me where room twenty-five is by chance?”
The nurse lowered the file clutched in her hands, turned, and pointed down the corridor. “Room twenty-five is on the second floor. You’ll have to take the stairs, though, as the elevators are currently restricted to hospital staff use only.”
Russell tilted his head forward. “Thank you.”
The nurse trained her attention back to the file, and continued on her way.
Russell advanced down the hallway at a good clip, slithering past the people who meandered in front of him. His stomach twisted in knots. The bitter taste of having another one of his good friends fight for their life stung the back of his throat.
He scanned the walls for the stairwell, finding the entrance just past the elevators that had a security guard standing in front of the control panel on the wall. Russell blew past the guard and approached the steel door. He pushed the silver handle down and stormed inside.
The echo of his boots playing off the steps bounced off the walls. His hands gripped the poles attached to the stairs, guiding him up to the landing.
Russell panted. He didn’t have many good friends who he considered family left in the world and the thought of David being in such bad shape hurt his soul.
He hit the landing, skirted past the railing, and darted up the next flight to the exit. His footfalls grew louder as did the heavy pants pushing from his parted lips.
The exit to the stairwell flew open.
Russell veered toward the wall, and continued on to the landing.
A Hispanic man holding a small, weeping woman at his side, held the door. She clutched her arms close to her chest. Tears streamed down her plump cheeks. The man spoke to her in Spanish, his tone low and sincere. He glanced at Russell as they made their way down the stairs.
Russell gave a tilt of his head and grabbed the edge of the door. He stepped out into the lull of the hallway and studied the plaque on the wall in front of him.
An arrow pointed to his right, marking the direction David’s room should be in. He skimmed over the hallways in both directions, finding it to be free of people.
Russell walked the length of the corridor, examining each room number engraved on the plaques next to the hospital rooms. He was at room nineteen and getting closer.
His fingers twitched, then rapped against the sides of his thighs. The growing wonder and dread for his good friend built with each step.
A nurse emerged from the room he approached. She adjusted the stethoscope around her neck, then flinched when she spotted him.
“Pardon me,” Russell said, moving out of her way.
The lights overhead flickered, then dimmed. A low humming noise sounded from the light fixture.
The nurse nodded and flitted her gaze to the lights. She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. The nurse walked past Russell while looking through the file in her hands.
Russell moved on, passing rooms twenty-three, then twenty-four. He pointed up ahead and to left at the next room he approached.
The door was closed. Russell peered down both sides of the hallway for anyone watching him. The hospital staff within sight and the random people trudging the halls paid him no mind.
He grabbed the handle and pulled down. The latch clicked, then retracted back within the door. The hinges squeaked a warning.
Russell poked his head inside the low-lit room. The beeping of machines filled the space. The blinds on the far wall had been drawn, reducing the light from outside to thin beams that sliced through the narrow gaps between the sections of large windows. He spotted no uniformed officers within the room or anyone else for that matter near the lone bed against the wall.
David laid motionless with his upper body tilted at an angle. A battery of wires and tubes led from his person to the machines stationed next to him.
Russell slipped inside the room, and pushed the door closed behind him, trying to minimize any undo noise. He turned and faced his good friend, then walked toward the side of his bed. He peered at David’s emotionless face. Both hands gripped the top of the barrier running the outside of the bed.
The white sheets and cream-colored blanket on the bed concealed David’s body from the stomach down. Both arms laid at his sides. The tops of his hands had cuts and nicks across them. His chest expanded with each breath that he managed on his own.
What the hell happened to you? Russell thought to himself. What kind of crap did you get caught up in?
The sound of voices speaking beyond the entrance to the room in the hallway caught Russell’s ear. He peered over his shoulder, watching for the silver handle to move.
David groaned, then stirred. The bed creaked with every move he made.
Russell looked away from the door and back to his friend.
David pressed his palms into the mattress and adjusted his weight. His face contorted in pain. The crow’s feet in both corners of his eyes grew more pronounced. His jaw clenched as he exhaled a deep breath through flared nostrils.
“How are you feeling?” Russell asked in a soft whisper, not wanting to startle him.
David cracked open his weary eyes, then squinted at him with a furrowed brow. “Russell?” His voice was weak and shaking–thick with sleep. He looked around the room with a lost gaze.
“Yeah. It’s me,” Russell answered. “How the hell did you end up in the hospital?”
Both of David’s eyes moved to the ceiling, then he pursed his lips. He shifted his weight a bit more on the mattress, then tried to sit up. His forearm cradled his mid-section as he scooted back against the stack of pillows behind him.
Russell reached for his arms, waiting to see if he needed any help. He studied the grimace on David’s face and the grunts that left his mouth.
“Did you want me to get a nur
se for you?” Russell asked, standing by to rush out of the room.
David drew a sharp breath, shook his head, then exhaled. “No. I’m good. I took some pain meds not too long ago. It is what it is right now. They won’t give me anymore for a bit.”
Russell stood at ease at the side of the bed. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”
“When did you get back in town?” David asked, holding his stomach. “Sarah said you left, but wasn’t sure where you went. I’m glad to see you’re all right. Well, mostly.”
“I just got back,” Russell answered. “Had to drop off a friend of mine who had been shot in the leg. I ran into Frank down in the lobby, and he told me you had been worked over pretty good, but not much else.”
David dipped his chin and removed his arm from across his body. “Yeah. Bastard clocked me in the back of the head when I wasn’t looking. When I came too, we duked it out a bit more until he shot and stabbed me. Left me for dead.”
“I’m just glad you’re all right,” Russell said. “When did you talk to Sarah last? I’m going to try and track her down. Make sure she’s safe and all.”
A frown formed on David’s face. His eyes seeped with sadness, and he looked away from Russell. His bottom lip quivered as he stared at the windows.
“What is it? Did something happen to her?” Russell’s fingers wrapped around the steel bar a hair tighter–eyes enlarged.
David cleared his throat, looked at the foot of the bed, then back to Russell. “To be honest, I’m not sure. It’s still a bit fuzzy, and we haven’t been able to track her down from when we stopped by at Mandy’s apartment.”
“Why were you at her friend’s place?” Russell shot back. “Did something happen at her house? The last time I spoke to her, she mentioned some creepy guy messaging and bothering her.”
“Sarah wanted to go to Mandy’s. She needed to make sure Mandy was all right, and she didn’t want to be alone.” David reached for the tray next to the bed and grabbed the large cup that had a straw inside of it. He took a drink, gulped it down, then licked around his lips. “I’m not sure what happened at her place, but Sarah did mention him. Spencer Lasater is his name, by the way. I can’t say for sure that’s who was in Mandy’s apartment or not, though, as I never got a super clear look at his face.”
Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back Page 10
