by Dakota Black
“Maybe he’s a damn mute,” a new voice called out, chiding Nash.
He rose to his full height, ignoring the pain. He knew the group had shifted forward, now encircling him, the taunting continuing.
“Pussy boy. Faggot.”
The leader laughed, his deep baritone echoing in the expansive space.
Nash breathed in and out, pushing his emotions aside.
“I say we cut him,” a third voice rang in.
“Let me think,” the leader commented, the tone as if Nash was nothing but an annoyance. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”
Looking over his shoulder, Nash smiled. “Come any closer and you’ll fucking die.”
“Oh!” The collective burst of laughter and additional taunts was followed by the leader strutting even closer.
“Bring it, you worthless freak.”
Nash inhaled, becoming the soldier, the dangerous man and shifted. Then he issued a single punch.
Boom!
Nash shivered even under the hot water. The memory was one he’d managed to push aside for years. Why now? Why here?
Wham!
He slapped his hand against the shower wall then slid against the cool material, keeping his head under the water. This was no fucking way to live.
The moment he walked back into his cabin, his eyes shifted toward the floor by the door. Someone had taken the time to welcome him. He continued drying off before picking up the bait. The moment he unfolded the note, he bristled.
Leave, before it’s too late.
Veronica remained jittery, beads of sweat having turned into pools around the base of her neck and in-between her breasts. To say she was petrified was an understatement. The plane ride had been laced with turbulence, the last of a storm front keeping the smaller plane rocking back and forth the entire time. Even the offered cognac, to soothe her nerves, hadn’t done anything but exacerbate her increasing nausea. Vomiting wasn’t an option.
“We’re almost there, Miss Easton. Sorry about the bumpy ride.”
The helicopter pilot was young, far too young in her opinion to be flying a multi-million-dollar piece of equipment. She shifted forward in her seat, keeping one hand pressed against her stomach, the other clenched around the small support railing. Flying wasn’t her favorite thing and after this trip? She was going to spend a hell of a long time hibernating on dry soil. “Fine. Thank you.” Even the sound of her voice was that of a small child, fearful of the merry go round.
The pilot looked back, his expression bland. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this a dozen times. It’s the damn wind shear but this chopper can take it.”
Gulping air, she managed to nod as the helicopter dipped again, this time creating bile in her throat. Yeah, the weather pattern was supposed to change, bringing sunshine and rainbows, unicorns and happiness for the next solid week. By that point, she’d be locked away in her cabin, still retching her guts.
She peered out the window and could see a cluster of lights coming from the middle of the ocean. They were close.
“Platform 14,” the pilot radioed.
“We’re with you,” the voice from the radio crackled.
“We’re on our final approach. Down in three minutes.”
“Roger and glad to have you here. We have a patient ready for transport.”
“Understood.”
As they made their final approach, Veronica kept her eyes closed. No sense in witnessing her own demise if her ticket was up.
The moment the helicopter dropped, hitting the deck, she moaned, her hands gripping the armrests.
“We’re here, Miss Easton. Safe and sound.”
Sure, she could hear the chiding in the pilot’s voice. Ignoring his placating tone, she waited for him to open the door, her patience wearing thin.
She shielded her eyes as the whirling wind of the rotors eased down. The moment she took a step forward, a shadowy figure appeared in the lights. His hulking frame was obscured by the bright lights of the rig, but she could see the tension covering every inch of his body.
“Dr. Veronica Easton?”
The voice was husky, deep and the inflection laced with contempt. She’d heard this kind of tone before. “And you are?”
The rugged man stepped forward, his eyes immediately darting down the length of her. “Nash Waters. I’m in charge of this unit. Everything that happens here goes through me. Period. Do we understand each other?”
The words as well as the sentiment reverberating into her brain, she plastered on a smile and held out her hand. “Very clear.” When he refused her hand, she closed the distance and tilted her head. “And just so we’re clear. I’m in charge of the medical unit. Period. Whatever happens within that medical facility is because of my direction and no one else. Are we very clear on this point?”
He inched even closer until he was towering over her. The electricity between them rocketed to the point she was left breathless. Even the scent of soap, a hint of perspiration was a powerful aphrodisiac. She held her breath, refusing to blink.
“Then, I’ll have you shown to the medical clinic. I’m certain you’ll want to get started. Here is a set of keys for the cabinets. You’ll have to figure them out for yourself.”
She nodded and took the keyring. There would be no welcoming party on this rig. “Yes, I do. What can you tell me about the condition of the men?”
“They’re burned, Miss Easton. One is critical and ready to transport out. The others are in our medical facility with minor first degree burns and heat exhaustion, some with what appears to be a mild form of delusion. They need fluids and rest as well as the proper dressings in order to avoid infection. Fortunately, nothing worse and you need to keep them that way,” Nash said without emotion.
“You sound as if you have medical training.” He was a tough man with a hard shell. “And that’s Doctor Easton.”
Nash hesitated before answering. “Well, Doctor, when you’ve lived the kind of life I have, you learn many tools in order to survive.”
“And the nurse on staff?”
“I don’t know him, and I don’t want to know him. You’re both here to do a job and nothing more.”
“Fine, if you don’t want to get to know your personnel, I have no issues with that.” Veronica shook her head and laughed. “But I will need a rundown of various items at your convenience, Superintendent Nash Waters. If that’s acceptable.” God, the man got under her skin. She’d been forced to experience this kind of arrogance in her work with Doctors Without Borders. Everywhere she went it seemed men assumed power and control.
“My men need you for one thing and one thing only. I’m certain a woman of your stature can understand that. You’ll get your rundown as necessary.” The answer curt he turned, stopping only two feet later. Cocking his head, he exhaled. “And, Doctor? I run a tight ship. Whatever I say, you will obey.”
Veronica watched as he walked into the shadows, her legs shaking every time his feet hit the deck. Shaking her head, she had her first real regret in accepting the position. However, there was no man alive who was going to force her into any level of obedience. Smirking, she grabbed her bag and kept her head held high, her determination intact.
Then why was she wet all over?
Chapter 4
“In here,” the man told her as he pointed to a door. He hadn’t bothered to ask her name or offer his. The grimy crew member had been told to walk her to the medical facility. “I’ll take your things to your cabin. 122 which is down the hall then take a right.” He grabbed the bags out of her hand. “You’ll get a special card key.”
“Security an issue?”
Shrugging, he gave her a cautious look. “Just safer that way. Some of the men get… gregarious. If ya know what I mean.”
Oh, she knew all right. “How bad was the fire?” Veronica asked, trying to glean any information she could.
“You get used to accidents, especially on this rig. The new superintendent gives a shit. That’s a step up fro
m the last man in charge.”
“Okay. Are there regular routines I should know about?”
“I’ll leave that for the superintendent to tell you, except the chef makes three meals a day. If you’re hungry any other time, you’ll need to stash food. I’m wanted back on duty.”
“Sure.” Stash food. Interesting. At least she’d brought along a couple bottles of wine. Her little secret. Veronica could swear he had a sneer on his face as he walked away. She waited until he rounded the corner before exhaling. Was every man on the rig terrified to have a woman on board? What she’d read had indicated there were women in the field. Obviously not on this site. She exhaled and studied her surroundings. What little she’d seen of the rig itself indicated a state of the art facility and yet, hadn’t noticed any damage caused by the fire.
What she wasn’t certain of was what conditions she’d face when she walked inside, let alone the accommodations for the patients or the equipment. Gone were the days of keeping a medical bag at all times. Besides, she wasn’t that type of doctor. She kept her hand on the steel latch for a full two minutes before turning it. When she entered, she was pleasantly surprised at the surroundings. The waiting area was small but functional.
“We’re kind of full in here so unless you’re deathly ill.” An older man came out of the other room. Dressed in scrubs, he seemed surprised finding her standing in the doorway. “You must be Doctor Easton. Damn glad to see you here.” He walked forward quickly, holding out his hand.
She looked down at the bloody glove and frowned.
Following her gaze, he laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to visitors; I mean that aren’t on stretchers or begging for cough medicine.” He ripped off his gloves, tossing them in an open trashcan. “Samuel Parker but most folks around here call me Doc Sam.”
“Are you a doctor?” she asked as she shook his hand.
“Hell no. I’m an LPN by training, but that was a hell of a long time ago. Training in the military, the Marines.”
“Is there anyone else here?” She knew the answer but remained somewhat dumbfounded given the types of injuries the rig had endured the last eighteen months.
“Well, we had an actual RN here up until a few days ago. Long story, but glad he’s gone. Just didn’t fit in with the crew.” He grinned seeing her expression. “You’ll do just fine.”
“What do we have to deal with, Sam?”
“Right to the point. I like that about you. We have seven men altogether that have been injured. Four from last night and three from the time before. Well, there were more but I cut them loose. Can’t fit any more bodies in here. Have them slopped together like cattle. Thank God, at least two of them can return to duty tomorrow. Course, I guess you’ll want to sign off on them before they do.”
He was right about that. “Let me see their charts.”
“I haven’t filled everything out yet from last night. Haven’t had a moment to myself as you can imagine.” Sam looked her up and down. “Well, let’s go. They’re in the other room.”
“How many rooms do you have?”
“Other than the reception area, we have two examination rooms, a storage room, an office and a makeshift surgery area along with a room that is supposed to hold four beds, but don’t go thinking we can perform state of the art surgeries. Anything like that and the men have to be airlifted off.” He motioned toward the open door. “We handle the typical flu symptoms, cuts and scrapes, an occasional sprained or broken limb and unfortunately more burns than I care to admit.”
“Why more?” She trailed behind him as he walked her down a short hallway.
“Carelessness. Shoddy equipment. You hear the men talking.”
“And whose responsibility is making certain the equipment works?” Veronica asked as she glanced into one of the open rooms. She stopped and walked inside. The area was clean but not what she’d call sterile. She’d seen a hell of a lot worse in her last gig.
“Well now, that is the same question that seems to be on everyone’s mind. Have some big wig running the ship now. Oh, that’s what most of the men call this place. We might be stuck to the ocean floor, but we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
She shook her head and sighed. “A lot of work even for two people.”
“We got by. Now, that you’re here, I have no doubt things will get better. I read all about you.”
“Seems everyone has.”
Sam laughed. “Very few rigs like ours get an actual doctor on board. We feel special. Or maybe the big boys at headquarters feel guilty. Come on. Let’s visit our patients.” He opened the door and walked inside, his smile covering the lower portion of his face. “Gentlemen, I have a visitor, our new doctor.”
Veronica wasn’t surprised by any means. She’d worked on dirt floors, where finding clean bandages had been difficult. She’d also worked with patients on cots, one right after the other, and the only clean bedding were rags sewn together. Still, seeing five men lying in bed and two sitting on the edge in close quarters reminded her what she had to deal with. “Dr. Veronica Easton. I’m glad to be here. I’m going to take a look at each one of you, one by one so this will take some time. I know two of you are ready to get out of here, but that’s going to wait until I give my okay. Does everyone understand?”
The two men sitting on the edge of the beds groaned and looked at each other. The others remained silent. “We’re fine,” one of them said.
“And you are?” She walked closer. She certainly didn’t care how big and burly they were; she was going to make certain they were fully healed before sending them back on deck. Especially given Nash Waters’ attitude regarding his men.
“Casper Reynolds, doc-tor. My friends call me Digger, but you can call me Mr. Reynolds.” He licked his lips and made a slurping sound. “Then again, we could get up close and personal and you can call me anything.”
One of the other men laughed.
She kept a smile on her face as she folded her arms, thankful she’d worn what she liked to call her shit kicking boots. “Well, Digger. I think we may need to do a complete physical exam, just to make certain you’re good to go. We certainly want you healthy. We’ll place you at the back of the list.”
“Oh! Way to go, Digger,” the second upright man scoffed as he slapped the edge of the bed.
Shooting him a look of scorn, she moved in his direction, taking his wrist into her hand and glancing at her watch. “Your pulse is high, which could indicate an infection or perhaps high blood pressure. Has this man been checked?”
“I don’t have high blood pressure! I’m in fighting form!” he snapped as he snatched his arm away.
“Calm down, Wally. She’s here for the long haul so you best be nice to her,” Sam said quietly, a lilt in his voice.
“Gentlemen. We can do this the easy way, or I can become a pain in your ass. Your choice.” She took a step closer to the most severely injured. Instantly, one of the men seemed to have difficulty breathing. “Sam, I’m taking this young man into the examining room first. Set the others up one by one and make certain Digger here is last.” Kicking the locked wheels into position, she pulled the bed away from the others before lifting it to waist high level. The burns on the man’s face and neck weren’t too severe, but the bandages on his left hand indicated additional trauma.
“Will do, Doctor,” Sam stated. “I’ll bring you his file.”
“Good.” She wheeled the young man into the first examination room, kicking the door shut. A quick glance gave her an indication of where everything was. “Hi there. Can you tell me your name?”
“Ro… ger… Cal… lo… way.” His voice was cracked, raw and the words difficult for him to say.
“Okay, Roger Calloway, I’m just going to check you out.” As she peeled back the covers and opened the front of the hospital gown, she noticed scars on his chest that had healed over. The man also had deep gashes that were on their way to recovery. They weren’t fresh. What had the man been forced to endure?
<
br /> He reached up, grabbing her wrist. “Please.”
“Whoa. It’s okay. You’re going to be just fine.” She noticed the absolute terror in the man’s eyes.
Roger blinked several times, tears swimming in his eyes. He opened his mouth and hissed.
She could tell he was trying to form words and had a terrible feeling his lungs had been scarred. “Don’t try to talk. Okay?”
He blinked again, only this time more controlled and dragged her arm down.
Easing her head down, she remained quiet.
“Don’t… let me… die. They’ll kill… me.”
Kill him? She froze and looked at his dilated eyes. It was as if the man was on some kind of drug. “I—”
“Here’s his file.” Sam walked into the room, interrupting her, a file in his hand. “We do have some information on the computer system, but I have to tell you, not as much as you would think.”
Dropping her arm, Roger’s eyes remained imploring.
She pressed her hand against her heart. What in the fuck was going on here? “What happened to this poor man?”
Sam looked down at the boy and pulled her away. “I know what I was told. He was caught along with the other rigger that was just flown out of here. Damn hole.”
“The hole?”
“That’s the area around the pumps. A slang term given there’s one way in and one way out. If a fire occurs and the exit is blocked, they could fry in seconds.”
Shivering, Veronica looked over her shoulder. “He has injuries from other accidents.” She heard Roger mumbling, but given his parched throat and current condition, his words weren’t making any sense.
“Yep. I know.”
Roger coughed and within seconds spit up blood. “Not… like… them.”
Rushing over, she placed her hand on his carotid artery. “His pulse is weak.”
“He had substantial injuries when he came in.”
“Then why the hell didn’t they medivac him out of here?”
Roger’s body began to jerk, his arms and limbs flailing as blood spewed out of his mouth. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.
