Sundown found Luna in a private room on the third floor; out the window, she had a scenic view of the staff parking lot. She was groggy, and dozed some.
"Your results are good," Dr. Carson had said. "No swelling, no bleeding. Just a slight concussion. I'm admitting you overnight for observation. Tomorrow you should be ready to go home."
Home sounded nice. She was already sick of bright white lights, tile walls, and the pervading smell of disinfectant.
At six, just after a nurse wheeled her into her room in a wheelchair (even though she could walk, and wanted to), an orderly brought her a tray of food and sat it on a rolling table. The smell of it turned her stomach, but she drank the juice, and it was good, but now her lips were dry again, and her throat tacky.
Now, with the sky a soft purple, she waited anxiously for word on her family. She asked Dr. Carson, and he promised to come around before his shift ended. She laid back against the overstuffed pillow and closed her eyes. The pain in her head had gone from a drilling agony to a dull throb, and the ringing in her ears was gone, but she felt exhausted, as though she hadn't slept in days. Each time she began to drop off, though, images and sounds crept in, images and sounds that she couldn't quite identify, but scared her nonetheless.
A nurse came in, and Luna sat up. "Hi, honey, my name's Miranda and I'll be taking care of you tonight," she said, crossing the room to a white board on which the previous nurse had written her name, and the names of other pertinent staff members. It must be shift change. She hoped Dr. Carson came soon. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
"I'm thirsty," Luna said.
"We have juice, soda, milk, tea..."
"A Pepsi would be nice."
"Alright," Miranda said, "I'll go grab you one."
Thanks.
While she waited, she picked up the remote control from the bedside table and turned the wall-mounted TV on. An old episode of Everybody Loves Raymond was on; Ray stood in his kitchen and mugged for the camera, and how the audience laughed. She changed the channel, and landed on Fox 5: The news was on, images of smashed vehicles flickering across the screen. Luna's breath caught in her throat.
"Nine people are dead and fifteen are injured after a ten car pileup on I-466 near Royal Woods today," the anchor said, and Luna's stomach knotted. "Among the dead is former state assemblyman John Harris..."
On screen, firefighters and paramedics scrambled to pry open a white van with ROYAL WOODS METHODIST CHURCH across the side in red. The scene changed, and Luna saw vanzilla, its roof caved in and its flank covered by a white canvas sheet. Her blood turned to ice water. She didn't know much about paramedics and stuff, but she knew they only put those up when someone was...
"Here you go!"
Luna jumped. Miranda, the nurse, was standing beside her with a tiny can of Pepsi. "Thank you," Luna said, taking it and blinking back tears. She tried to pop the tab, but suddenly all of her strength had deserted her.
"I'll get it." Miranda opened the can and sat it down on the table. "Do you want a straw?"
Luna shook her head; she didn't trust herself to speak.
When Miranda was gone, Luna turned the TV off and laid back against her pillow, panic starting to rise in her chest. Where was that bastard Carson? She...
"Luna?"
She turned. Her mother was standing in the doorway. Her face was ashen and her eyes puffy like she'd been crying. In that moment, Luna knew she had bad news, and tears overwhelmed her.
"Baby," mom said, sitting and hugging her close. "Baby..."
Luna cried harder. "W-Who?" she asked.
"Luna..."
"Who died?"
For a long time, Rita did not speak. Like Luna moments ago, she didn't trust herself, for if she spoke their names, she was certain she would start to sob and never stop. She kissed her daughter's forehead and cradled her.
"Your father..."
Luna's heart throbbed.
"Lori..."
She cried out.
"And Lola."
The world rolled away, and Luna was alone in the storm, clinging desperately to her mother and sobbing into her breast. She tried to ask about everyone else, but all that came out was a strangled sound of misery.
"I'm sorry," Rita said through her own tears, "I'm so sorry, baby."
Luna took a deep breath and forced the tears to stop. "What about...everyone else?"
"Luan's in the ICU," Rita said, her voice breaking, "she's not doing well."
Luna closed her eyes.
"Everyone else is okay," she said. "Your brother hurt his leg but he's going to be okay. Lisa was in shock but she's better now."
Her mother went through the list of injuries: Leni's gashed head, Lana's broken nose, Lucy's concussion. "Where are they?" Luna asked.
"Lincoln's a few doors down. He'll be here a few days. Lucy's on the fourth floor. Lana's on the second floor, and Lisa and Leni are in the waiting room. I wanted to make sure you were up to seeing...
"Yes," Luna said. "I want to see them."
Rita kissed her daughter on the forehead and got up. Luna watched her go, and was surprised to feel a rise of anxiety. A minute later, Leni and Lisa came into the room. Both of them had changed greatly in the hours since she'd seen them. They looked older, harder. Leni's face was sunken and wan. Lisa stared blankly ahead, only forcing herself to focus on Luna with effort.
"Hey," Leni said. Her voice was tired and husky.
Seeing them like that made Luna break down, and she covered her eyes. Leni came to her and put her arm around her. She was crying too. Lisa stood where she was, looking unsure. Finally she came over, climbed onto the bed, and sat on Luna's other side, putting her arm on her shoulder and squeezing.
None of them spoke. In that moment there was nothing any of them could say, no words of wisdom or encouragement or healing. Three of them were dead and the rest were wounded. Luna realized that they would never be the same, and she wept more bitterly. She thought of all the times she sat on her father's lap when she was little, all the times she'd gone to Lori with problems she couldn't (or wouldn't) take to their parents, of all the times she tucked Lola in and read to her. She let out a pained wail, and for a long time, her heart ached so badly that she thought she was dying.
When she had herself under control, she wiped her eyes. "A-Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah," Leni said, and touched the bandage on her forehead. "It's just a scratch."
"Lisa?"
"Better," Lisa said. Her voice sounded hollow. "I'm still coming to terms with it."
"Have you seen anyone else?"
"We saw Lucy," Leni said.
"And Lincoln."
"How are they?"
"Lucy's head hurts and Lincoln's leg is all messed up," Leni said. "It's, like, in a cast."
"It was broken in four places," Lisa said. "He lost a lot of cartilage and suffered likely nerve damage. It's doubtful if he'll ever be able to use it again."
Luna sighed. "Lana?"
"She's okay," Leni said, "except her nose got broken."
"She also has bruising around her eyes," Lisa added.
"How is she taking...it?" Luna asked.
"Not well," Lisa said, "she's broken up."
Mom came into the room then, and they all looked up. "We have to go," she said, "visiting hours are over."
Panic gripped Luna. "You guys can't go," she said.
"We have to, baby. I still have to tell Lynn." Her voice broke on the last couple words. She was not looking forward to telling yet another one of her children that their father and two of their siblings was dead.
Luna shook her head, her heart starting to race. The thought of being alone, with her precious few remaining family members scattered to the wind, terrified her. She opened her mouth to speak, but tears filled her eyes instead. "Don't leave me," she said.
"Honey," mom said miserably. She came over and sat down, ran her hand through Luna's hair. "I'll be back tomorrow, then you can come home."
Luna let out a shuddery breath. "I don't want to be alone."
Mom stroked her cheek. "Baby...Lincoln's just down the hall. I'm sure they won't mind you visiting him."
Luna looked up at her mother. "Y-Yeah," she said, "I wanna see him."
Lincoln Loud lie in a hard hospital bed, an IV tube in his arm and a catheter in his privates. He wasn't awake when they inserted it; he fought them so hard on the matter that they finally agreed to give him a sedative. That was...when? An hour ago? Two? He didn't know. He didn't even know what time it was now, only that the window on his right was dark. He raised his hand to his head. What was the name of the painkiller he was on? He didn't like it. It made him feel loopy and strange in his stomach. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off, but his mind turned back to his what his mother had told him.
Dad, Lola, and Lori were dead.
No euphemisms, no beating around the bush, just plain and simply dead. He tried to process it, but his drug-addled brain couldn't (or wouldn't). He opened his eyes and stared up at the harsh florescent light, trying to summon grief but failing, and hating himself for it.
"H-Hey, bro."
Lincoln turned his head and blinked his eyes. Luna was standing inside the door. She was wearing a hospital gown and looked haggard, as if she hadn't slept in days. Even so, she was the most beautiful thing he'd seen all day: She was his sister and she was alive.
"Hey," he said. "How you feel?"
"Like shit," she said. "How's your leg?"
"What leg?" he asked, then forced a chuckle. "Seriously, I'm on drugs, I can't even feel it."
"What happened to it?" she asked, coming to his bed and sitting carefully on the edge.
"It got stuck under the seat. Broken. Messed up." Forming words was hard. "You?"
"Concussion."
Lincoln tried to remember if he knew exactly what a concussion was. He knew it had to do with the brain and head, but...beyond that, everything was foggy. "What's it like?"
Luna shrugged. "My head hurts. I was sick. Ringing in my ears. Really tired."
"They had to cut me out," Lincoln mused. "They used the jaws of life."
"What was that like?" Luna asked disinterestedly.
Lincoln shrugged. "Lot of noise. And sparks. I think."
He tried to envision the scene, but it was hazy. He vaguely recalled being strapped to a hard plastic board and carried out, but that was pretty much it. Oh, and being in the ambulance. "How did you get out?"
"I don't know," Luna said. "I woke up on the ground. Leni was with me. I saw –" she stopped, trying but failing to close out the memory of Lori lying backwards out the window, a bloody, ragged stump where her arm had been. She let out a strangled cry and covered her face.
"Hey," Lincoln said, "Luna..."
She collapsed and rested her head on his chest, her body wracked with the force of her sobs. He swallowed and haltingly put his hand on her head. "Luna..." he started, but didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort her; the sound of her in such pain broke his heart, and for the first time since waking up in recovery, tears filled his own eyes.
"I can't believe they're gone," Luna said through her tears, and cried harder.
"Neither can I," Lincoln said honestly. He looked down at his sister, feeling helpless. "It's like a bad dream."
She sniffed wetly and blinked back her grief. She looked at him, her eyes miserable. "C-Can I stay with you for a while? I don't want to be alone."
"Of course," Lincoln said. He nodded to the spot beside him. "Get up here."
She nestled next to him, and he put his arm around her shoulders. Her breathing was erratic. She slipped an arm between him and the bed and held him tightly, as if trying to keep him from leaving too. Neither of them spoke. Her warmth and her closeness soothed him, and he felt himself starting to drift off, but forced himself back.
"I didn't even get to say goodbye," Luna muttered, and Lincoln rubbed her arm. "I thought I'd get to say goodbye when...when it was time, you know?"
"I know," Lincoln said. "So did I."
Sometime later, he heard Luna's breathing change. It became more shallow. He looked down. She was asleep. He held her tighter. Five minutes later, he was asleep too.
In the night, she came awake with a start, panic gripping her heart and the sound of squealing tires and crunching metal ringing in her ears. She didn't know where she was, and terror started to bubble up in her chest. She trembled.
"Shhh," Lincoln said, rubbing the back of her hair, "I'm here...it's okay."
Her thundering heart calmed, and she remembered; she was with her little bro. She took a deep breath and buried her face in his chest. She felt safe, and warm...
