Silent Screams
Sorry, HermioneLumos… (:
Zoe realised what was happening. She recognised some of the faces from Sam and Scarlet's description. She stepped on the peddle in panic, and tried to drive away, but they were climbing over the car, slashing the tires. She couldn't move. They began to hammer on the windows, then there was an ominous smash as a brick flew through the window, just about missing her, but sending shards of glass flying into her skin. She began to scream, hoping that someone would hear her and come to help. But no one came. They tore the door open and dragged her from the car. They began to push her around, smirking, hissing and snarling, hurling racist remarks at her. One spat in her face. As they all laughed, she tried to run. She got a few metres away before more of them emerged from the shadows.
"Where'd you think you're going?" One of them snarled, pushing her backwards. Two of them caught her arms and pulled them behind her. One but his mouth close to her ear, and hissed menacingly.
"You're going to die, you know that… don't you?"
She struggled and fought, and eventually got one arm free. She began to hit and scratch, until she was eventually free to run again. She charged down the street, to a pub she could see nearby. They didn't chase her, and she began to feel relieved. Warm blood trickled down her face from the glass, her arm was in agony, but she'd got away more lightly than Scarlet, Sam and the other victims. Or so she thought.
She heard a hissing sound, then a loud bang. Then something hit her in the back. Suddenly, she was engulfed in flames- it was a firework. She began to scream, and fell to the floor, rolling desperately to put it out. When the flames had died, she felt as if her skin had been torn from her back, it was agony. The group descended on her once more, rolling her onto her back, ignoring her screams as the gravel dug into her raw flesh. They began to kick her, then most of them left, leaving her with three of the group.
"Shut her up," one snarled. Zoe knew what was coming next, and writhed under their grip to try and escape, but it didn't work. His fist flew into her jaw, and it cracked. She cried out in agony, causing herself yet more pain. A tall, blonde, heavily tattooed one slapped her around the face.
"Leave her, she won't last five minutes like this," another hissed, and the three ran off into the night. Zoe looked up after them, almost longing for them to finish her off. Then everything went black.
When Zoe woke up, there was a muscular, tattooed man crouching over her. She flinched and struggled to move away, but the slightest movement left her writing in agony. The man held his hands up.
"Whoa, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. I was in that pub over there, came out and saw you here. The ambulance is on its way."
Zoe raised a hand tentatively to her jaw. The man took it gently and moved it away.
"Don't… it looks broken," he pleaded, his voice wavering slightly.
Zoe looked at him. He looked concerned, caring… and trustworthy. She fought the agony from the break to murmur:
"My name's Dr Hanna…"
"You're a doctor? Then… then tell me what to do- I can try and do first aid, until the ambulance arrives."
Zoe croaked, "Pen and paper…" and the man ran into the pub, fetching what looked like one of those notebooks waitresses used to take orders and a pen.
Zoe wrote:
"Don't touch the burns. Are you sober?"
The man nodded.
"Yeah, im here with my wife and kids, for a meal… I'm driving, so…"
"Okay, get a first aid kit."
He ran off again, returning with the first aid kit, and some of the pub staff- a man and a woman, both in their twenties.
"Okay, what now?"
"Are there tweezers in there?"
The man rummaged through the green plastic box.
"Er… no, no there's not."
Zoe grumbled and winced.
"Give up then. Just… stay with me until the ambulance comes, please?"
The man nodded, his voice wavering as he spoke:
"Of course I will. My name's Nick, by the way."
"Hi," Zoe croaked, smiling a tired, weak, painful smile.
A few moments later, the ambulance pulled up.
"Oh, crap- another one?" Jeff growled.
"This gang moves fast, doesn't it?" Dixie smiled, grimly.
She hurried over to the casualty, who was laid on her side, the man crouched over her.
"Alright, sweetheart? It's Nick, isn't it? Who have we got here?"
"Her name's Dr Hanna, she's…"
Dixie's gasp interrupted him.
"Zoe? Zoe, its Dixie," Dixie soothed, moving round so she could see Zoe's face.
"Good day at work?" Zoe smirked, wearily.
"Not really, sweetheart." Dixie smiled back.
Zoe raised her eyebrows, a breath hissing through her teeth with the pain it caused.
"Nowhere near as bad as my day…"
When they got Zoe to the ED, Tess, Tom and Nick were all waiting.
"Don't you ever go home?" Zoe smiled, upon seeing Nick's face.
"Zoe…"
"No, it's Santa Claus…" Zoe growled.
"Zoe, what happened?" He asked, serious.
They wheeled her through and moved her onto a bed.
Zoe had held onto the piece of paper, and began to scribble on it:
"3rd degree burn from a firework. Glass embedded in my face and neck from where someone smashed my car window. Bruises, broken ribs and I think my collarbone and arm. Oh, and jaw- spotting a pattern?"
Nick read it.
"Firework? Okay, let's take a look at that."
He expertly removed the bloodied, burnt remains of Zoe's top from the flesh, and groaned when he saw the deep, gravel studded flesh.
"Okay, Tom, see to that, would you? Tess, see to the glass, would you? And the jaw… I'm going to see how fast I can get an X-Ray, and a CT scan, to be on the safe side." Nick swept from the room.
That was when the trouble started.
Zoe's breathing became laboured, and she passed out.
