(Sophiepicklegirl, who commented on chapter nine, has a pretty good idea. See, I did get off track on Steph's adventures, but the gang shootout and this chapter were in the plans. I'm just sad you didn't get to meet my three buddies I'd planned. Alejo wasn't a part of the story until the last chapter! XD Anyway, I'll be wrapping up Wind Runner soon, (but not this chapter) but there will be a sequel (especially since I already have the ending entirely planned out, and it would be far too cruel to completely stop on a cliff hanger of that enormity!) Hope you've enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse, and don't kill me for the ending!)
Chapter 11 - Waking Up
My first call once I was in Rangeman's private jet was to Tank, of course. As my second command, and because of the big brother/little sister relationship I'd noticed between my best friend and Stephanie, it was obvious he'd need to come down as well. I sighed, and then felt a tiny flinch work the muscles under my eyes. Sighing, uncontrollable anger, next thing you know I'll be eating Tasty Cakes.
The second call I made, though, was to Frank Plum. He needed to know I'd found his daughter and mother-in-law, even considering his relationship with the latter.
And then the rest of the ride was a blur. . . .
*W*R*
The hospital wasn't the greatest, but when I stepped through the doors, Alejo rushed over to me.
"How is she? Are they all ok?" I asked as quickly as I could spit the words out.
He frowned and gestured to the nurse who'd just entered the waiting room. She skipped a step when her eyes met mine, but after clearing her throat, she asked me if I was with Alejo. After my confirmation, she led us back to someone's room. "The two that are in critical condition are up on the third floor. However, the one who is . . ." she trailed off for a moment, and Alejo cut in.
"Uncooperative?"
"Yes, that's an . . . apt . . . description. She's in here. Don't be put out, though, if she doesn't react to you. She hit her head quite hard in the fall. . . . She doesn't remember much."
I never knew what people meant by the phrase a broken heart. I thought the pain in my chest originated from my sudden inability to breathe, but even that was unexplainable. I didn't realize that it would be physically painful to push the hollow metal door open, how something that probably only really weighed a pound, maybe less, could suddenly be so heavy as to take all my strength to push open. And when I stepped through the threshold and into the hospital room, I didn't smell the antiseptics, or feel the chill in the air. All I felt was my heart being yanked out of my chest and shredded into two as I met her stormy blue eyes, and saw nothing.
Not an iota of recognition.