by M. D. Massey
It was well after dark when we made it topside again. As soon as I had a signal, I dialed 9-1-1 and got an ambulance headed our way. Then I called the junkyard and had my uncle relay a message to Finn that he should meet us at the hospital ASAP. From the looks of it, Bells would be headed into emergency surgery—and I figured a little druidic healing magic might turn the tables in her favor. Better to hedge our bets than rely solely on modern medicine. After that I thanked the trolls, who remained hidden in the storm drain, just in case the ghouls broke through. Guts said it wasn’t a problem, and that I could count on their help any time. Good to know.
Once the paramedics arrived, they quickly performed a field assessment and loaded Bells up for transport. They asked me how the injury happened, and I muttered something about urban spelunking. The crew was kind enough to avoid making any remarks about crawling around in sewers, and they asked no further questions. I was thankful for that, since I didn’t want us connected to the explosion at the distillery. I rode in the back of the ambulance in silence, watching the medic calmly and efficiently start an I.V. line and adjust the flow rate while she monitored Belladonna’s vitals.
I listened in as the medic called ahead to the hospital. “Brack ER, this is medic unit 5, we’re inbound code three with a trauma activation. We have a 20-year-old female presenting with acute trauma to the abdomen, blunt force and penetrating. Pulse is 120 bpm, and patient shows signs of abdominal distention—”
I tuned out the rest of her report and focused on Bells instead. Her skin was ashen and she’d been unconscious since her collapse. As far as I could tell, she showed no signs of regaining consciousness. Yet, she looked peaceful, lying still as calm waters as she breathed through the oxygen mask.
“Is she going to be okay?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the sirens and road noise.
The medic glanced at me while she hooked up an automatic defibrillator to Belladonna’s chest. The machine would automatically try to restart her heart if she “coded.” I’d learned how to operate a more basic version during my CPR and first aid training.
The paramedic nodded and spoke over her shoulder as she checked the EKG monitor and continued her assessment.
“Her vitals are stable, and we’re just minutes away from Brack. They’re a level one trauma center, so she’ll get the best care possible.”
The answer was noncommittal and professional, but it still made me feel better.
“You can talk to her, you know. You think she can’t hear, but often patients who are unconscious later say they remember what was going on around them.”
I glanced at the medic, and then at Bells. She looked so frail, and it frightened me. Bells was a rock—at least, that’s how I viewed her. Tough as nails and unafraid, no matter what she faced. I realized that seeing her injured had shaken me to my core. I could ruminate on that later; right now I needed to comfort my friend.
“Bells, you’re going to be fine. I’ll be right here, right next to you the whole time. You’re going to get the best care possible, the very best.” I felt foolish talking to her like that, but the medic seemed to think I was doing fine.
“Keep talking to her. It helps more than you know.”
I talked about places I wanted to take her, things I wanted to show her, and people I wanted her to meet. She’d never really spent much time around my mom, and I wanted to bring her to the house to eat dinner sometime. I promised to take her to my old stomping grounds in my hometown, and show her where I used to hang out, where Jesse and I had been trained.
Jesse. I choked on her name a bit. Was it happening all over again? Maybe I was cursed in more ways than one. First the tragedy with Jesse, then Sabine’s kidnapping, and now Bells. It seemed that everyone I cared for fell under my curse.
I started hyperventilating a little. The paramedic must have noticed.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe. We’re almost to the hospital, and the doctors and staff there are going to take good care of her.”
Just then, one of the machines emitted an ear-piercing alarm.
“What’s wrong?” I asked in a high-pitched voice. My eyes darted back and forth, from Bells to the machine to the paramedic.
The medic adjusted the I.V. flow as she looked from monitor to monitor, then she grabbed the radio and called into the ER. “Brack ER, this is medic unit 5 with an update. Patient’s blood pressure and pulse are falling. Be advised, our ETA is under two minutes, over.”
A tinny male voice came back over the radio. “Message received, Medic 5. Trauma team will be on standby, over.”
The rest was just a blur, as machines began beeping and going off all over the place inside the vehicle. The paramedic took Bells’ pulse manually—first at the wrist, then at her throat. She listened to her chest with her stethoscope, then began chest compressions. Bells had just flatlined, and my world came crashing down.
Chapter Nineteen
I stood just outside the trauma room at the ER as they worked frantically to resuscitate Belladonna. After ten minutes, they were still doing chest compressions. I worried that if they couldn’t resuscitate her soon, the doctor would call it.
I said a silent prayer, foregoing the formality of closing my eyes. The fact was, I couldn’t take my eyes off the terrible scene in front of me if I tried. It felt like the day I’d lost Jesse, all over again.
Just then, someone clapped a warm hand on my shoulder. Finn’s voice brought me back to the present.
“How’s it looking, son?”
I blinked and wiped my eyes. “They’ve been doing compressions for more than ten minutes, since before we arrived. She coded on the way over.”
“I’ll do what I can, then. Hopefully it’ll be enough.”
He fixed me with a sympathetic look and closed his eyes. I felt magic peeling off him in waves as he began chanting softly in a language I’d never heard him use before, one that pierced my soul with its beauty and cadence. His fingers wove complex patterns as he spoke, and he cast his magic without concern for reactions from passersby. Surely it would’ve looked quite strange to anyone who might have noticed, but I was beyond caring about what anyone thought at this point. All I wanted was for Bells to be okay.
I felt a burst of energy pass between Finnegas and Bells, then Finn staggered. I caught him by the arm and propped him up, snapping my eyes to Bells to gauge the results of his spellwork.
They’d stopped doing chest compressions. She was either dead, or her heart was beating on its own again. I looked at the cardiac monitor and saw a green blip dancing a steady rhythm across the screen.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but I could tell by the pace at which the trauma team was working that her condition was still dire. I heard something about prepping for surgery, and then in a blur of activity they were moving her out of the room and down the hall. I helped Finn to a nearby chair and ran after them.
“Where are you taking her?” I asked one of the staff members trailing the gurney.
She glanced at me as she hurried along, only acknowledging me briefly as she followed Bells down the hall. “Are you a family member?”
I paused as I realized I had no idea whether or not she even had any family. “No, I’m her—her boyfriend. As far as I know, I’m all she has.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she slowed her pace, allowing the rest of the team and the gurney to gain some distance on us.
“I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but considering the circumstances—”
“Please, I have to know,” I begged.
“Alright. We’re taking her to surgery, but it’s going to be touch and go. If she has any family you should do your best to alert them ASAP. There’s a waiting room outside the surgical suites on the first floor near the north entrance. You can wait there while she’s in surgery and someone will update you on her progress. That’s all I can tell you right now.”
With that, the team reached the elevators, and that was apparently as far as I could go.
A nurse stopped my halfhearted attempt to board the elevator with a gentle hand on my chest. I took one last look at Bells lying there on the gurney, so frail and mortal. Then I stepped back and allowed the doors to close.
The guilt of abandonment weighed heavily on me as I watched the lights above the elevator change. I took a deep breath and headed back to the ER to fetch Finn, so we could go to the waiting room and prepare ourselves for a long, sleepless night.
Hours later, a short, tired-looking woman in scrubs with a surgical mask around her neck entered the surgery waiting area. She looked around until she spotted us and walked over to where we were seated. I stood up, Finn didn’t. Apparently that spell he’d cast had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit.
“Are you the family of Belladonna Becerra?” the woman asked.
“I’m her boyfriend, and this man is a friend of ours. We’re the only family or friends present at the moment—I don’t think she has anyone else.”
Earlier I’d contacted the Circle and left a message asking for Gunnarson to call me back, but I still hadn’t heard from him. Which was just as well, because I didn’t think I could restrain myself if he decided to get a case of the ass with me. As far as I knew, the Circle and a few close friends were all the family Bells had. She’d never spoken about her parents, and when I’d asked about her family she’d always changed the subject. I’d stopped asking in order to respect her privacy.
“I’m Dr. Coltrane, and I’m the surgeon who performed Ms. Becerra’s surgery.” She glanced back and forth, from me to Finn. “Understand, it’s against hospital policy and federal law for me to reveal any medical information about Ms. Becerra to you. However, I can tell you that she’s stable, and that once she’s out of recovery she’ll be transferred to the ICU.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, realizing that I’d been holding my breath. I opened them again and looked Dr. Coltrane in the eyes.
“Thank you, doctor. Can we see her?”
She shook her head gently, and I saw more than a little sympathy reflected there. “Not just yet. You should probably head home, get some rest, and then come back in the morning. There’s another waiting room outside the ICU. When you get back, wait there and let the nurses know you’re a friend of Ms. Becerra. If you’re lucky, they might let you in to see her.”
I nodded reluctantly. “I understand. Thank you, again.”
“I wish I could tell you more. Go get some rest and come back in the morning. That’s probably the best thing you can do for your friend right now.”
Finn stood and placed a hand on my arm. “We will, doctor. Thank you for your time.”
Dr. Coltrane nodded, and with a tight smile she headed back to the surgical suites. I looked at Finn and sat back down.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know.” He sat down next to me, and we passed the next few minutes in silence.
Finally, he broke the quiet by clearing his throat. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
I chewed my lip as I considered his words. “You’re going to tell me it’s the curse’s fault, right? Or Fuamnach? Just like with Jesse, and Sabine.”
Finn rested his chin on his chest and sighed. “It’s really not, Colin. You know it as well as me. It’s time you stopped living in guilt, taking the blame every time someone around you gets hurt.”
I sniffed loudly and ran a hand across my face. “Finn, it’s as much my fault as anyone’s. Sure, with Jesse’s death I wasn’t really to blame, and I know that. But since then? I’ve been living a life I don’t deserve, trying to be normal when I’m the furthest thing from it.”
Finn leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head as he crossed his ankles and looked up to the ceiling. “You deserve happiness just as much as the next person. More so, if you ask me.”
I released a short, clipped laugh. “Do I? Gunnarson and Crowley both nailed it on the head, but I was too stupid to listen. I’m a damned ticking time bomb, old man, and that’s the God’s-honest truth. I shouldn’t even be around people. Sure, things have been quiet since the Eye decided to take up residence inside my skull, but there’s no guarantee that’ll continue. For all I know, it might make things worse. Meanwhile this curse affects everyone around me, all while I pretend I can live a normal life.”
Finn sighed through his nose and leaned forward as he looked at me, one elbow resting on a knee and the other scratching an ear. “Is that what you think, that your curse is somehow causing bad things to happen? I have news for you, kid—bad shit has a way of happening without any help from curses and magic. You’re a damned McCool, for goodness sakes. Calamity and strife were your future from the moment you were born.
“Yes, you were cursed. And yes, it was my fault it happened. But if you continue to blame that witch’s curse for every bad thing that happens to you or the people you love—well, you’re just using it as an excuse to shirk responsibility for the life you chose.”
“That I chose?”
He held a finger to his lips and gave me a stern look. I glanced around. People stared at us all around the waiting room.
Finn responded in a much lower voice. “You’re gods-damned right, ‘chose.’ No one twisted your arm and made you train with me after you took out the Avartagh. That was your choice.”
“I was just a kid!” I growled.
“You were a McCool—are a McCool.” Finn rubbed his hands on his jeans. I noticed that his skin was pale under the rolled cuffs of the jet black Western shirt he wore. “And so we come to the truth of the matter, which is that you never really had much of a choice. Were you born into this work? Most certainly. But walking away from it would’ve been a death sentence just the same. The fae were going to follow you no matter where you went, and if it hadn’t been the Avartagh it would’ve been something else that hunted you down and did you in.
“No, you never really had much of a choice, but you did make a choice. That’s the reality I want you to face. You chose to stand and fight instead of burying your head in the sand. The kid I knew might have pulled the short straw, but he wasn’t about to sit around and feel sorry for himself about it. That kid chose to become a warrior, and fight the good fight.
“But the young man in front of me? I don’t know this person, and frankly I’m not sure I want to. Because he’s too damned busy feeling sorry for himself to roll up his sleeves and make the only decision worth making—to fight to protect those he loves.”
I covered my face with my hands and took a long, ragged breath. “And you call that a choice? Lady or tiger, I’m screwed either way.”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Yes, but at least if you stand up and fight, you get the satisfaction of taking a few of the bastards with you.”
I stared out between my fingers at him, and he fixed me with a wry grin. “You suck at pep talks, Finn. You realize that, right?”
He shrugged. “Ask Belladonna if I’m no help at all.”
“Thanks for that, by the way. I don’t think I said it, so thanks.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Least I could do, son. Least I could do.”
We loitered in the ICU waiting area until we saw them transfer Bells from recovery. We were only able to catch a glimpse of her, but from what I saw she’d regained some color and looked peaceful, so that was an improvement. Seeing her cheered me up, but I still felt responsible for putting her in harm’s way.
As they wheeled her out of sight, Finn cleared his throat and shook my shoulder gently.
“Colin, you look like hammered shit, and you smell like it too. Go home, grab a shower and a nap, and then come back when you’ve rested up. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on her for you.”
I nodded and rubbed my eyes. “You’re right, I do smell like shit. I guess I forgot that we were crawling around in a sewer yesterday.”
Finn wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you still smell like troll musk a bit too. You might try using more of that vinegar and
tomato juice concoction again—just in case.”
I sighed. “How long are you guys going to keep this up?” I did my best Bill Clinton, which wasn’t very good, and rasped a response as I shook my finger at Finn. “I did not have sexual relations with that troll.”
It was a half-hearted attempt at humor, but the old man played along nonetheless. He winked and clapped me on the shoulder. “If you say so.”
I shook my head and nodded. “Thanks. For everything.”
“Don’t mention it, kid. Now go see to your needs before you pass out. I’ll be here when you get back.”
I walked out of the hospital in a daze, and only realized I didn’t have transportation after a few moments spent wandering in search of my scooter. A quick check of my funds indicated I’d be taking the bus home. I actually liked riding the bus, and I’d always found it to be a good place to think. City transit provided the comfort of being around other people, with the anonymity of being among strangers who went out of their way to leave you alone. It was the perfect environment for a lonely introvert.
But I was in no hurry to get home anytime soon, so I started walking in a random direction—head down, hands in pockets, and lost in my thoughts.
Before I knew it, I was traveling on MLK opposite City Cemetery, where this whole thing had begun. I stopped and stared at the rows of tombstones, replaying the events of the last few days in my mind. For a moment it felt as though something in the cemetery was calling to me, beckoning me to come inside. Wondering if it was just my imagination, I shrugged and stepped into the road, nearly getting hit by a car. The driver honked and yelled obscenities at me, but I just kept walking.
