Stanley pushed his way past the officer and ran to the platform. He started to reach for the dagger, but there was another muffled yell from his brother. Stanley turned and pulled the gag out of Stanford's mouth, then the bandanna that had been stuffed into it.
Stanford swallowed hard, then fairly shouted, "Don't pull the dagger out! He'll start bleeding!" He tried to lift his head. "Fiddleford! Why did you do that?"
An officer came over to them. "Here son, we'll get you off of here." He said to Stanford.
"No—never mind me! " Stanford cried. "Please, is—"
The officer took hold of Fiddleford's wrist. "He has a pulse—Daniels! Call an ambulance—on the double! "
Another officer ran out of the room.
Stan helped the officer untie his brother.
"Son, I need you to stay here until the paramedics are able to move your friend." The officer explained to Stanford.
"I—sniff—I understand. " Stanford blubbered. "Please—just don't let him die, please!"
Stanley took a step back from the table. He wanted to say something to Stanford, but he hadn't seemed to notice Stanley was there—or at least hadn't acknowledged it. He was so worried about his little roommate, Stanley wondered if maybe he should just leave…
In the distance there were sirens. Within a little more than five minutes, two paramedics were coming down the stairs with a stretcher.
"Right here, men!" the officer that had helped untie Stanford called, guiding them over to the platform. The paramedics gently removed Fiddleford from off of Stanford's chest, and laid him on the stretcher on his stomach. Seconds later they were back up the stairs with him.
Stanford slowly sat up, tears now spilling down his face. "Please be okay, Fids." He squeaked, looking toward the stairs.
"We're—we're going to need you boys to come to the station to get your statements. "
Stan looked at his brother, who in turn looked at the officer.
"B-but—"Stanford blubbered.
"We need to get your statements so we can put that nut away. " the officer said firmly. "We'll get you to the hospital as soon as we're through, I promise. "
Stanford drew a ragged breath and let the officer help him get off of the table, and then lead him to the stairs. Stanley sighed and followed.
The twins both got into the back seat of the officer's car. Stanley glanced at his brother, who was looking out the window.
I can't apologize here, can I? Stanford's so worried about his little buddy he might just get angry that I was being selfish or something…
Stanley just sighed and looked out the other window.
They stopped at the police station first. Stanley listened as Stanford explained what Fiddleford's suspicions had been about El Rojo Mano, and how he'd said the disabled students had disappeared from Backupsmore. He also told the officer the things that Dean Whitherspoon had said about clearing the college of "imperfect" students. Stanley told the officer how he'd run into Fiddleford—or, that Fiddleford had run into him—at Backupsmore, and how the smaller young man had explained his fears for Stanford. Finally he explained how he and Fiddleford had started to come for the police, but Fiddleford had recognized the Mano Rojo member's car, they had gone to investigate the building, and…
"Hey, how did you guys even know to come down there?" Stanley asked.
"Well," the officer explained. "A woman who lived across the street from that abandoned house kept complaining that teenagers were hanging out there. "She didn't know what they were doing, but she was afraid they were dealing drugs or would start a fire or something. "
Stanley's eyes widened as he vaguely remembered the woman talking to the police officer when he and Fiddleford had stopped in front of the house.
"Okay." The officer said, writing Stanley's last statement down. "As promised, I'll get you boys a ride to the hospital."
Looking at Stanford, he said, "I think you should get checked out yourself. "
"What?" Stanley's brother said, shaking his head. "No, I'm fine. "
"Still, as a precaution. "
So, the twins received a ride to the hospital. Almost immediately after they arrived the officer took Stanford to the admissions desk, explained the situation, and Stanford was whisked off to an exam room.
Stanley watched them go, then walked dejectedly to a little room across from the admissions desk where there were chairs by the wall. He slumped down into one of them.