by Lois Kay
“We need to be quick, Sam.” Trishia coughed. “I don’t know how many cocktails he has.”
“Alice!” A high-pitched voice cut through the air that was thick with smoke. The sound was chilling and eerily cheerful amidst the havoc and destruction. “I know where you are Alice. You need to die!”
Trishia took a deep breath and shot Sam a warning look. Sam nodded and used her whole body to pin the squirming Alice to the ground, wincing when she felt the many cuts and small burns that were covering her body. She could hear a fire truck and knew the firemen were about to come rushing into the parking garage.
Trishia knew she didn’t have much time left. A look over her shoulder showed her that Lucy, Jody, Joan and the girls were huddled in a corner, behind a car, protecting their heads with their arms.
“It’s now or never, Sam,” she said calmly, checking her gun for the last time. “I can’t have him shoot at any of the first responders. Let’s get this bastard.”
Trishia Waters rose to her feet, ignoring the horrified cry she knew came from Lucy. Ignoring the painful constriction in her chest, she looked toward the corner where she knew Martin Coles was hiding. “Give it up, Martin,” she shouted. “For once in your life do something sensible.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Surrender, Mr. Coles.”
“Why should I, dyke?” was the spiteful answer.
“Because you’ve done enough damage already and there is no way you’ll be able to leave this building as a free man,” Trishia said, trying to calm her racing heart. She knew what she was doing was dangerous. She didn’t know if Martin Coles had a Molotov cocktail left. If he did and threw it at her, she could get seriously injured. Or worse. Trishia pushed her fears aside and took another step. “Are you a coward, Martin?” she taunted. “Wait! Don’t answer that. I think you are. After all, you were chasing little girls. Why don’t you take on someone your own size? Coward.”
“Like hell I am,” Martin Coles’ voice spat.
Before she could respond, Trishia saw Martin Coles jump up from behind the truck he had been hiding behind. “If I must die, I’ll take you with me, bitch!” He started running toward her.
What happened next was a blur. Trishia held her gun in front of her in a two-handed grip. Her eyes never left Martin Coles. Everything around her faded, until the only thing in focus, was the rapidly approaching madman.
“Stop right there, Martin.” Her voice was clear and calm. “Drop the gun and put your hands in the air. You have nowhere to go.”
As soon as she saw the deranged look in his eyes, Trishia knew Martin Coles had no intention of getting arrested. A chill ran down her spine, and she slowly exhaled, ready to pull the trigger.
“I die. You die,” Martin Coles laughed. He lifted the hand that was holding a gun and aimed it at Trishia’s chest.
Trishia pulled the trigger, feeling her arm jerk by the sheer power of the blast. She staggered backward, almost losing her balance when an invisible force pushed against her upper body. A searing pain shot through her shoulder. Suppressing a scream, she bit her bottom lip. She fired again. The blood that was oozing from the gash in her forehead was dripping in her eye, and she briefly wondered why that would make everything fuzzy. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and looked at the dark-clad figure on the floor. Did she shoot him? She vaguely remembered she saw a body crash to the floor. Right now, it was quiet. The only thing she could hear was the crackling noise of flames. Her ears were buzzing, and she slowly moved her head from side to side. When had it become so hard to breathe? Trishia slowly sank to her knees, still holding the gun. She was aware of Sam’s voice. Her friend was talking to her and asked her to do something, but Trishia couldn’t understand the words. Everything was hazy. Nothing made sense. She tried to take a deep breath, but her chest didn’t expand. Looking down, she noticed warm, sticky fluid that was rapidly saturating her shirt. Someone put an arm around her shoulders and lowered her into a sitting position. Trishia wanted to fight that arm and tell whoever it was holding her down that she was fine, but she lacked the strength. From her position on the floor, she looked at the ceiling that was partially obscured by tendrils of smoke. That’s right. She remembered now. There was a fire. She needed to get up and make sure everyone was safe.
“We…need…to get…out of here,” she breathed, before an excruciating pain shot through her shoulder and upper arm.
“Don’t move, Trish,” a familiar voice penetrated the pain-filled haze. “You’ll be okay. The ambulance is on its way.”
Sam pressed a hand against Trishia’s shoulder, trying to slow the flow of blood that was seeping through her fingers, coating her hand and dripping down, forming a small puddle on the stained concrete. Trishia was terribly pale, and her eyes were unfocused. Sam let out a sob and lifted her gaze toward the exit. “Where are those goddamn medics?” she yelled.
“Sam?” Trishia’s voice was barely audible. “Lucy? Is…she—?”
“Lucy is fine, “Sam replied quickly. “Everyone is fine. Don’t talk Trish, help is on the way.”
Sam heard running footsteps, and she didn’t have to look up to know that Jody would not have been able to restrain Lucy any longer. Lucy fell on her knees next to Trishia and looked at her with panic-filled eyes. Tears were streaming down her soot stained cheeks.
Through a thick, foggy haze Trishia noticed a pair of teary dark-green eyes looking at her, as a familiar hand brushed away her hair from her sweaty and bloody forehead.
“Hey, honey,” she whispered.
“Hey,” Lucy sobbed. “You didn’t listen to me. It looks like I need to kick your butt,” she sniffed.
“I’m sorry,” Trishia whispered with difficulty, wondering why breathing was causing her so much trouble. “Did I get him?” Her eyes were pleading and her gaze traveled to Sam, who was flanked by a crying Alice. She repeated her question in a barely audible voice “Sam, did I get him?”
Sam looked over her shoulder and saw Martin Coles’ lifeless body lying close to one of the burning cars. He was on his back, with one hand clutched to his chest, and Sam didn’t know if her stinging eyes were playing tricks with her, or that Martin Coles was still breathing. She looked at Lucy who was supporting Trishia’s head. Sam took off her shirt that was shredded in some places, leaving her in a ripped tank top. She bunched up the fabric and pushed it against Trishia’s shoulder. “Lucy, keep pressure on the wound,” she said in a daze.
With difficulty, Sam got to her feet, not aware that her torso was covered in small cuts and burns. Her eyes never left Martin Coles’ body.
“I want to come with you,” Alice whispered. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Please? I need to see if he’s—.”
Still shocked by all that had happened Sam’s brain hardly registered the firemen rushing into the parking garage, closely followed by a medical team. Their trained eyes immediately spotted Trishia and a few moments after arriving, they were already kneeling next to her, trying to stop the bleeding, monitoring her vital signs and hooking her up to an IV line. They were calmly talking to a frantic Lucy, and to Trishia who was slipping in and out of consciousness.
Sam wrapped her arm around Alice’s trembling body, and they slowly made their way over to Martin Coles, who was lying in a puddle of blood. They stopped close to his feet and looked down at the man who had managed to bring so much pain and devastation into the world.
His hand was still clenched around his gun, but his lifeless eyes were staring at the ceiling. One of Trishia’s bullets had hit him in the chest. His once neatly pressed shirt was wrinkled and covered in blood. The other bullet had hit him between his eyes, where a small trickle of blood seeped out of the little hole.
Next, to her, Alice gasped, and Sam grasped Alice’s shoulders and turned her around, pressing her face against her shoulder. Sam winced when Alice pressed against pieces of glass and debris that were embedded in her skin. A warm hand touched her back and without looking Sam knew it was Jody
/> “Come on you two.” Jody’s voice was strained. “We need to get out of here before anything else blows. They’re taking Trish to the hospital, and I need them to take care of you as well, Sam. You’re hurt.”
“Trishia and Alice first,” Sam answered softly. “I’m alright.”
“Let the doctors and nurses decide that honey,” Jody replied, worrying about Sam’s controlled behavior. She knew the real shock of what had happened would probably hit her later.
Two firemen suddenly loomed up in front of them and quickly ushered them away. “Come on, ladies, you need to get up top, away from this inferno,” one said. He quickened the pace to get them out of the underground parking as soon as they could.
In the meantime, Trishia had been carefully strapped to a stretcher, with two IV lines hooked up to her arms, an oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose and a portable ECG machine that was continuously monitoring her vitals. The constant beeping noise was utterly distracting, as was the oxygen mask because she wanted to tell a crying Lucy how much she loved her and that she would be okay, but she couldn’t. The only thing she was capable of was blinking her eyes. To her utter relief, she saw Joan McDonnell grab Lucy’s arm and pull her along.
“Come with me, honey, we’ll follow them to the hospital. Peter says there’s a police car waiting for us. Let those people do their job. Trishia is in good hands.”
Feeling cold and numb and not aware of the tears that were running down her cheeks, Lucy followed her mother out of the parking garage. Right outside the entrance, an ambulance was waiting. Its lights were flashing, and as soon as they had rushed Trishia through the garage and had wheeled her in the back of the ambulance, they took off with breakneck speed.
Joan and Lucy were assisted into the back of a waiting police van, together with Jody, Sam, and Alice. Fiona and Yarra were already seated and buckled up in their seats, holding each other’s hands for support. As soon as Alice took a seat, Fiona unbuckled her seatbelt, scooted over and motioned her to sit in between Yarra and herself and Alice quietly obliged, desperately needing the warm contact of her friends, who both grabbed one of her hands in a tight grip.
“Are you all right, Miss Stevens?” the female driver asked with concern, having noticed the many small cuts on Sam’s face, hands and arms that were oozing blood.
“I will be soon,” Sam answered in a tired voice. “My brain is just trying to catch up with everything that has happened. It’s not every day somebody tries to blow up my family.” She turned and looked at Jody who was extremely pale. “How are you holding up?” she asked concerned. “You did a great job, Jody. I’m so proud of you.”
Jody swallowed hard, reliving the moment the world had erupted in flames and smoke. She had been so scared, not for herself, but for her family. For Sam and Trishia who didn’t have the protection of a car that could keep the flames off their body. For Alice who had rushed toward their nemesis. For Lucy, who had witnessed Trishia getting shot, not knowing whether she would live or die. Jody cast a look at Lucy who was fidgeting and shaking like a leaf. Jody’s eyes filled with tears and she could only hope that Trishia’s injuries were not as serious as they looked. If anything would happen to Trishia—. Jody let out a shuddering breath and could no longer control the tears. With a soft sob, she closed her eyes and tried to swallow away the painful lump in her throat. A familiar arm slid around her shoulders and carefully pulled her closer.
“Sam, you’re hurt,” she halfheartedly objected.
“So are you,” Sam answered. “I’m sure Trish will be okay, she’s strong, and she’s fighter.”
“There was so much blood,” Lucy’s quivering voice sounded from behind them. “I can’t lose her, Sam. I can’t,” she added in a whisper.
Joan pulled her distressed daughter in her arms, trying to comfort her as best as she could. She sent Fiona a sad smile when she scooted closer to Lucy and slid her arms around her as well.
The police officer who was driving the van glanced at the officer who was sitting in the passenger’s seat. They exchanged a look of understanding, and without saying a word, she reached out and switched on the flashing lights and siren. They needed to get to the hospital as fast as they could. Trishia Waters was one of their own.
Chapter 22
It was approaching noon when Sam finally emerged from the treatment room where a nurse had been cleaning and bandaging the many cuts and burns that had been caused by shattered glass the explosion had blown against her body with full force.
Every little piece of glass had been carefully removed, the cuts and burns treated with an antiseptic ointment and if necessary covered with a small gauze or band-aid. It had been a slow and meticulous job, and Sam had finally managed to convince Jody to go back to the waiting room and be with her family, knowing that she was about to collapse from sheer exhaustion and worry. The nurse had also given Sam a mild painkiller, which she had accepted with gratitude. Her body felt stiff, and the burning sensation of her skin was extremely uncomfortable. Her clothes had been destroyed, and she had been given a pair of light-blue surgical scrubs. Even though the fabric was thin and light, it was still uncomfortable when it rubbed against her skin.
As soon as she stepped into the waiting area, her eyes took in the small group that sat quietly in a corner. On the table in front of them, she noticed cups and a coffee pot. Five uniformed police officers were standing together and drinking coffee, talking in subdued voices. Their faces were drawn and etched with worry.
Seeing Sam approach, Jody jumped up and grabbed her hand, leading her to a chair and handing her a cup of coffee. “Drink this.” Her green eyes were dark with worry and filled with sadness. When she saw the question in Sam’s eyes, she shook her head. “No, she’s still in surgery.”
“How is Lucy holding up?” Sam asked, casting a look at her sister-in-law who was sitting in between her mother and Fiona. Her eyes looked extremely dark in her pale face.
“She’s hanging in there.” Jody sighed. “But we’d better hear some good news soon.”
Sam’s arm settled around her, and Jody leaned her head against her shoulder. Sam tightened the grip and rested her cheek on the top of Jody’s head, briefly closing her eyes. Jody’s hair smelled like smoke, and for a moment Sam was back in the parking garage, reliving the moment when the car had exploded, and she had been terrified they would all die. She swallowed hard and felt the tears sting the back of her eyes. She took a few deep breaths and willed them away. Now was not the time to break down. Jody needed her, and so did Lucy and Alice.
Alice.
Sam’s eyes snapped open, and her gaze traveled to a small couch in the corner of the waiting room, next to one of the vending machines. Alice was lying in a fetal position, her head in Yarra’s lap. One hand was tucked underneath her chin and the other one holding Yarra’s. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was regular. It looked like she was fast asleep.
“How is Alice?” she asked Jody.
“Shaken to the core,” Jody answered softly. “She had a good cry, which helped, I think. I called Lisa and asked her to come to the house when we get home. Alice feels responsible for Trishia getting shot.”
“That wasn’t her fault,” Sam said.
“I know, but it’s how she feels.” Jody tried to move away from Sam, but Sam’s arms stopped her. “You’re hurting, Sam.”
“I don’t care,” Sam said. “I need you,” she added softly. “I need to feel you close.”
*
Alice was trying to relax, but every time the tension in her body decreased she remembered how Martin Coles had appeared from behind a black truck, which made her tense up again. Her mind was in turmoil. Again, and again she heard the explosion of the car. The orange flames had illuminated his face and the madness in his eyes. He had been the personification of her nightmares.
Trishia had saved them, Alice knew that, and it made her feel guilty and sad that because of her, a team of surgeons and nurses were now fighting for her life
in the operating room. If Trishia would die, she would never forgive herself. Tears slid down Alice’s cheek, landing on Yarra’s thigh. She tried to be quiet but knew Yarra was aware of her tears when her thumb gently rubbed the back of Alice’s hand.
“It’s going to be okay, Alice,” Yarra whispered close to her ear.
Running footsteps sounded through the long hallway, and everybody looked up when Peter Jones slid to a halt in the waiting room. His face and clothes were stained with soot, and his eyes were wide and pleading. “How’s Trish?” he panted.
“She is still in the OR,” Jody answered, patting the chair next to her in an invitation for him to sit down.
Peter gratefully sank down in the chair, noticing one of the uniformed officers walking up to him with a cup of steaming coffee.
“Thanks, Bert,” Peter sighed deeply. “I need that.”
He sipped the hot coffee, clenching the mug in slightly trembling fingers, while he updated Sam and Jody on the situation at The Reef. “They were able to kill the fire pretty quick,” he said, feeling filthy and drained. “The evacuation went perfect, although there was a bit of a panic when that car exploded. God knows it almost gave me a heart attack, knowing you were all down there.” Peter swallowed hard and had to take a deep breath before he could continue. “Anyway, the building has been thoroughly searched by the bomb squad, but they haven’t found anything, so when the guests were able to return to their rooms I left. I just…needed to be here,” he added with tears in his eyes. “What exactly happened, Sam? How did she get shot?”
“She challenged him,” Sam answered in a tense voice, still hearing the echo of Trishia’s defying words to Martin Coles. “I think she wanted to draw him out and for him to focus his attention on her before he could do more damage. She was afraid he would shoot at the firemen who were about to enter the parking garage. She deliberately pissed him off. It worked too because he stepped away from the car he was hiding behind and faced her. She gave him the opportunity to put down his gun, but I could tell he was never going to do that.” Sam let out a shaky breath. “When he lifted up his weapon Trish fired. As he went down the bastard got a shot in, though. Trish shot him again, and that was the end of that. She hit him twice. One shot in the chest and the other one between his eyes.”
