Title: Dangerous Atmosphere
Rating: R, for bad language.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the psycho.
Author's Note: This is Ch. 2 of 'Nothing to Lose', and there's more to come after this. Soon, I promise!
Spoilers: Again, takes place after 'A Simple Twist of Fate' and before "Secrets and Lies', so everything is along the lines of what's been going on during season 8.
Cook County General Hospital ER: 10:58 PM
Elizabeth Corday frowned at the sound of the recording that reached her ears. She knew she had dialed the ER correctly, but now, she was being told that the line was out of service.
"Something wrong, Elizabeth?" Robert Romano asked as he drew up beside her in all his egotistical glory.
She turned her frown from the phone to him, "There's something wrong with the connection."
"Trying to reach Mark?" he asked nosily, giving her a false smile, one of the many things she hated about him.
She nodded, "Yes. I need to talk to him about our daughter." She made sure to sound firm. He probably knew all about their falling-out over Rachel and Ella. Everyone did. Still, she wasn't leaving room for talking about it.
Romano nodded, "Ah. Well, nothing to worry about, I'm sure." With that, he took off down the hall, no doubt preparing to scrub in for another surgery.
Elizabeth watched him a moment before hanging the phone up and heading toward the elevator. If she couldn't reach him by phone, she'd see him in person. Her spirits sank even lower when she saw the lights of the buttons blinking crazily. So the elevators were out of order too.
"My God," she muttered, not really sure what to do next, "this is a hospital. We can't do without elevators forever."
Sighing, she turned away and walked toward the surgeon's lounge. It was probably being fixed at the moment, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong down there.
Jing-Mei was going crazy. She was sure of it. She was almost positive this wasn't happening. The men with the guns, they couldn't be real. And Carter, whose head was on her lap, he couldn't really be injured.
Almost as soon as the thoughts passed through her head, Jing-Mei knew that it wasn't true. This was real. As if he was confirming it, Carter shifted and groaned softly. Mark had ripped his lab coat and had put it around the wound, but it was almost soaked completely through, "I'm cold." John muttered to no one.
She heard a sniffling beside her, and Jing-Mei looked up into the welling eyes of Abby Lockhart. They both knew that he was going to bleed to death if they didn't help him soon. Just as everyone else knew.
The room was deathly quiet, save for the mumblings of the guy who had started this, the psycho with the gun, and his assistants. Jing-Mei could feel everyone's eyes on her. No, not her. Carter.
"Sshhh," she whispered to him as she stroked his damp hair, "you'll be fine."
He was so pale. So deathly pale…
"Don't die," she pleaded quietly, so quiet that only she and Abby could hear, "don't die, John…,"
"How is he?" someone asked behind her, and Jing-Mei glanced at Micheal Gallant as he kneeled beside her.
She shook her head, afraid to say anything for fear that John would hear her. He nodded, then bit his lip thoughtfully.
"We have to help him," Abby whispered desperately.
Gallant nodded, "I know."
Jing-Mei could almost see the wheels turning in his head. She knew what he was like, and she knew he couldn't go very long without trying something, anything.
And that may get him killed.
Gallant couldn't keep his eyes off of Carter, lying on the floor, bleeding to death. They were in the middle of a hospital, with doctors everywhere, and they couldn't do anything.
It was the worst feeling of helplessness he'd ever known.
He rose and faced the leader, the one with the sawed-off shotgun. He made himself focus on the man, and not the bloody form of the victim who had been shot just a few feet behind him. The guy didn't even notice him, and Gallant made his way around the front of the desk, until he was standing in front of the leader. He could hear Dr. Weaver's whispered protests; he could feel Dr. Greene's eyes boring into his back.
The leader sensed him and whirled towards him. The gun was pointed directly at Gallant's head, and he forced himself to look away from the huge barrels and at the leader's face.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked disbelievingly, "get back there."
Gallant raised his arms in a gesture of placidness, "Look, man. I'm not gonna try to be the hero or anything here. I'm not that stupid."
The leader raised his eyebrows at him, but didn't say anything.
"I just…Carter really needs some help, man. He's dying."
The guy chuckled, "Do you really think I give a damn?"
"No, but we do," Gallant answered quietly, "just, just give us a chance to give him some blood and patch that wound up, okay? That's all I'm asking."
Gallant saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and his heart did a skip when he saw the man, the patient Kerry had been taking care of, in the doorway of exam 1. The gunmen hadn't even checked the rooms for patients. Now that he thought about it, there was another patient, wisely staying hidden, in the other exam room.
He made quick eye contact with the man, hoping that he caught the hint that he should stay hidden. The man's eyes widened and he slunk back out of sight. Hopefully, he would stay that way. Gallant knew that any wrong move would result in another death.
Gallant looked at the leader again, who was rubbing his eyes nervously, "Please, man. He's our friend."
"He is?"
Gallant didn't know what to think of the man's tone of voice. It was sarcastic, cruel, but he could detect a hint of deep sadness.
"What do you want?" Gallant asked quietly, gently, "why are you doing this?"
The man's body began to tremble violently, and his face turned blood-red, he was so enraged. Suddenly panicking, Gallant knew he had overstepped his boundaries.
"You wanna know what I want?" the man asked, staring wildly at him, at the people behind the desk, "you want to know why the fuck I came in here?" he was screaming now, and Gallant saw the tears streaming down his face.
"Just-just calm down," Gallant tried to keep his voice level, but he wasn't succeeding. This was getting very dangerous, very fast.
The leader was waving his gun around wildly, "No! No, don't tell me to calm down, man! I will blow you away so fast-,"
"Alright, I'm sorry." Gallant quickly said, but the guy was going off his rocker.
"You'll know why I'm here. You'll know, and then you'll find out what real suffering is!"
Gallant had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn't want to ask.
"Get behind the fucking desk!" he screamed, and Gallant did as he was told, "the good doctor's going to have to die there!"
Gallant stepped back behind the desk, his arms still raised. He hadn't helped. He had only succeeded in making things worse.
Joshua was about to start shooting the bastard in front of him. Who the Hell did he think he was, trying to talk to him like they knew each other? Like they were…friends?
He didn't have friends. The last friend he'd had died. Here.
He was going to make sure the ones responsible got what was coming to them.
The black guy stepped back behind the desk slowly. Joshua could catch a hint of failure in the man's eyes, and he almost laughed out loud. So he had wanted to be the hero, but Joshua knew better than that. He knew when to let them know who was boss.
He knew when he would start killing.
The time would come when all eyes were turned on this little ER, when the world would see the killers that worked under the facades of lifesavers punished, just as they should be.
Everyone would see.
Elizabeth was getting edgier by the minute. The feeling that something was vaguely wrong had quickly been upgraded to near-panic. Call it a sixth sense, but she knew there was something that wasn't right down there.
It was when she heard the sirens, not ambulance, but police sirens, that her fears were brought to reality.
She wasn't the only one that was worried. People were standing in the hallways, not moving, just wondering.
"Elizabeth!" she heard her name being called and turned around to see Peter Benton sprinting towards her, "do you have any idea what's going on?"
She shook her head, "No. I haven't any idea."
She wanted to know what the Hell was happening, and she wanted to know if it involved Mark.
"The elevators are still broken, and the phone line to the ER is still cut off." She told him, rubbing her face tiredly.
Peter frowned, "That's strange."
Romano strode down the hall toward them, his mouth set in a grim line, "It seems like we have a situation." He told them, and Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat.
"What's wrong?" she asked him.
"It looks as if someone has stupidly taken over the whole ER wing downstairs," he answered, and Elizabeth gasped, "the police want us to finish surgeries and close down the rest of the hospital. The traumas have already been redirected to Mercy."
"Wait, what about the patients that are already here?" Peter asked, his eyes the epitome of dissatisfaction.
"We have to start evacuating," Romano answered, "now."
Elizabeth couldn't believe it. Someone was downstairs, probably with a gun, holding everyone there hostage. Someone may have already been hurt…No, she couldn't think like that.
Beside her, she could feel Peter's concerned gaze, and she began to cry softly. What if he was dead? What if she never saw Mark again? Hesitantly, he pulled her in an embrace, and she accepted his gesture of comfort, crying into his chest.
"What if he's dead?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.
She could feel him sigh, "Mark will be fine, Elizabeth. They'll all be okay. We'll figure a way out of this."
She didn't know if she could believe him.
Nathan couldn't believe this was happening. He had only come in for a flu shot. That was it. He hadn't expected the whole freakin' wing to get taken over by a psycho.
He could've done without the flu shot.
Now, he was sitting in the corner of the exam room, not really sure what to do. The black guy had let him know that he didn't want him trying anything, and he figured he'd better obey him. He was the doctor, after all.
He could hear the leader yelling and swearing up a storm outside in the waiting room, and Nathan flinched, hoping he wouldn't be found. He knew it would only piss the guy off to no end.
The woman beside him, Amy Rite, was the only other patient in the ER right now. She had managed to make it in there without being seen when everything had first happened. She had come because of a migraine. He could only imagine how much worse it had gotten.
"So what-what do we do?" she asked, her voice small and tremulous.
Nathan really had no idea, "I guess stay here until the police come," he gave her an encouraging smile, even though he felt like crawling in a hole and dying, "besides, I don't think they're after us."
"The doctors?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Yep."
At least, that's what he hoped. Not that he wished a death upon anyone. He certainly hadn't gotten anything other than horror after seeing that tall doctor, Dr. Carter, take it in the arm. He just wanted to see his kids again before he died. Maybe spend a little time with them.
"You got any kids?" he asked Amy, now that he was on the subject.
She shook her head, "No."
"Oh," he listened to the guy's yells. They had started to die down, "I do. Two. Jaime and Jonathon. Twins," he clarified, and she smiled, "yeah. I haven't seen them in awhile. A couple years, actually."
"Really?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Yeah." He suddenly felt like he had to see those two, more than anything, "I think I'll give them a call, spend some time with them. If…," he didn't finish.
She gave him a pat on the hand, "If we get out of this, I think I'm going to rethink some of my disconnections to friends and family," she looked down, "I haven't talked to my Mom in six years."
Nathan nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. So they had made promises to do things they should've done years ago.
He just hoped they'd be able to keep those promises.
Carter was so cold. He just couldn't seem to get warm, as much as he tried. His arm felt so weak…it still hurt like Hell, but it had begun to go numb awhile ago. Just…he wished he could get warm. That was all he wanted.
He could hear everything going on around him, he could feel Deb's hands on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. They were so heavy…he supposed he just needed to sleep a little, and he would be all better. Maybe he would be okay, like Superman. He'd be in perfect shape.
Just…sleep.
"No," the voice was distorted, but he could hear it, "John, stay awake, okay? Stay with me."
He didn't want to, "No. Gotta sleep," he muttered.
He was jarred from his lull when someone started shaking his head, back and forth. Weakly, he managed to wrench his eyes open, and he saw Deb's face above him, "Deb?" he asked, barely able to push it out, "you look all pink."
She did, too. Everything looked pink. Even the lights. The tears on her face looked pink…Abby looked pink, too.
"Come on John, stay with me." She said forcefully, and Carter tried to obey. She sounded scared. He didn't want to scare her…he didn't want to scare anybody.
Kerry couldn't stop watching Carter. Every minute, he seemed to get a little paler, and a little quieter.
He was dying.
She was scared out of her mind for him, and she wished, more than anything, that it had been her. Not him. He had been the one to put the patient before himself, only to be shot. He didn't deserve this. He had too much ahead of him. He was too kind, too talented…
But who was she kidding? That wouldn't change anything.
Kerry hastily wiped the tears away before anyone saw them. She didn't want to show how scared she was. She needed to be the strong one here. She just had to hold out…Carter had to just hold out a little longer…
The sounds of police sirens drew her attention, and Kerry felt the littlest bit of hope. Maybe they would be okay…
"Stay still," the leader ordered, raising his gun for emphasis, "they'll get the line fixed, and we'll be in business."
The line fixed?
Almost immediately, the telephone started to ring, and everyone jumped, startled. No one moved, afraid of doing anything.
"Get it, desk girl," the guy said, gesturing to Randi, "pick it up."
She did so, not taking her eyes off the leader, "Hello?" she looked like she was about to break down in tears, "they-they want you."
"Tell them not yet."
She nodded, "Not yet, he said."
Kerry studied the guy closely. He was pale and shaking, and she would bet that he was insane. He had to be.
"They want to know how many are in here." She said, swallowing nervously.
The guy frowned, "Tell him that it don't matter."
She did so, glancing at the gunman every few seconds, "They want to know-,"
"Tell them I don't give a fuck about what they want to know!" he yelled, enraged, "tell them I'll talk when I feel like talking!"
Randi's eyes welled with tears, and Kerry's heart went out to the young woman. She shouldn't have to go through this. None of them should.
She told them what he had said, and hung up the phone slowly, "Good, Randi," the guy said soothingly.
Abby didn't want to look at the gunman. She didn't want to see the insane face of the man who had shot Carter. She didn't want to see the face of the man who had shot a helpless patient without even a hint of remorse. She didn't want to see his smile. That crooked, unnervingly-cheery grin that made her want to cry.
Instead, she kept her eyes trained on Carter's face. His eyes were half-open, and he barely reacted to anything Jing-Mei said to try to keep him awake. It was obvious the bullet had hit an artery. His blood was everywhere. She was sitting in it.
"John," she said, and touched his cheek, almost sobbing as she did so. He was so cool, "John. Do you remember that time you went with me to find my Mom in Oklahoma?"
She saw him smile a little, "Yeah," he mumbled, and his eyes opened a little more to reveal the brown pools she had come to love so much, "that was…great." The last word was barely audible.
"And do you remember when you helped me deliver my baby, John?" Jing-Mei chimed in, "you were so supportive. I don't know if I thanked you for that."
John shifted a little on her lap, "You…you did." His voice was a little louder now, and Abby felt her hopes rising.
"What the fuck is this?" said a disbelieving voice above Abby, and she looked up into the eyes of a madman, "memory lane?"
Jing-Mei tried to bend a little over John to protect him, "Please. We were just-,"
The ringing telephone caused her to pause, and the leader gestured for Randi to give him the phone, "I'll talk." He grabbed the phone.
"Yeah."
John was mumbling something, the only sound in the room besides the gunman's voice.
"No, I don't want any fucking money," he answered, then slammed his fist down, "no, you know what I want? I want revenge! I want to see each of them die, just like they watched my brother die, and didn't do anything! I want to see them suffer!" his voice was high and had reached fever-pitch, and Abby closed her eyes against the horrible sound.
She knew that voice would be in her nightmares for a long time.
Abby had no idea what he was talking about, who he was referring to. So many people died in this building every day…and she was scared that they would be the ones to die in here today.
"I don't give a fuck! They deserve to die like my brother did!" Abby was amazed to see tears in the man's eyes, and for a fraction of a second, she wondered what had happened that had driven him to this.
Mark couldn't do anything. He wanted to, he wanted to help Carter so badly, but he knew he couldn't move, at the risk of being shot.
The man was so close, though, and his assistants were all out of sight, spread out around the different exits of the ER.
Each minute the gunman was becoming angrier and angrier. Mark could see the sweat pouring off of him as he cursed at the police, "It doesn't matter!" he was screaming so savagely now that Mark felt as if he was looking at a monster. Which…he was.
The gun was limp in his hands, and Mark knew that his chance was now. Gallant was looking at him carefully, and he nodded. As if on count, they both tensed, listening to his conversation with the police. He was distracted.
Jing-Mei could see what was happening. The killer had left his guard down. He was distracted, and Mark had noticed. As he yelled unmercifully, they were inching closer.
Her heart pumped faster and faster as they drew closer, until she felt like it was going to explode in her chest.
Then, Gallant and Mark lunged, and the gunman grunted, surprised. They wrestled with him over control of the gun, slamming into the counter. Mark had it in his hands and was trying to wrench it from his grasp, but he was struggling back. The guy was strong, spurred on by adrenaline and revenge.
Jing-Mei screamed as he kicked Mark in the gut, and the doctor doubled over painfully. Gallant was there almost immediately, wrestling over control of the weapon. The phone was hanging, forgotten, by its cord.
She heard Haleh scream as the leader gained control of the gun and took aim at Gallant's head with a cruel smile. Time seemed to slow down as he pulled the trigger, but at the last second, a silver object was there, knocking the gun up, and there was a thunderous blast.
Jing-Mei screamed this time as something shattered above them and sparks flew. Instinctively, she covered Carter, just as Abby did, against any further injury.
Then, darkness.
Elizabeth almost collapsed when she heard the gunshot from inside the ER. Around her, policemen were drawing their guns readily.
Something had happened…and she had no idea what.
"Please come home safe, Mark," she whispered.
Peter Benton could feel Elizabeth stiffen beside him as the gunshot echoed hauntingly. Either the gunman had shot someone, or someone had gained control of the weapon. He hoped, more than anything, that it was the latter.
He was more scared than he wanted to let on. He had to stay strong right now, in case there were injuries he had to deal with.
He hoped to God there weren't.
Abby shielded her eyes from the sparks made from the shattered light fixture. The whole ER was plunged into darkness from the damaged connections. There was the sound of struggling in the darkness, and Abby held back a scream as she heard the sound of a fist connecting with flesh.
Then, the back-up lights kicked in, and a soft, unearthly orange was suddenly shedding light around the ER. Gallant was standing over the unconscious killer, breathing hard, and Mark was leaning on the counter, the shotgun in his trembling hands.
Abby grabbed the keys on the desk and sprinted toward the front doors, hoping the other gunmen wouldn't reach them before she got there. Quickly, she unlocked the doors, and as soon as she did, the ER was flooded with policemen bearing guns. Before she knew what was happening, she was moved outside into the freezing cold, the others close behind her.
It was over.
Kerry watched as the remaining gunmen were brought out, handcuffed, from the different exits. The danger was over.
She looked down at Carter, who had stopped speaking a few minutes ago. They weren't out of the woods yet. Jing-Mei was crying now, Kerry didn't know from relief or fear for her fallen colleague.
"We need a gurney!" she yelled, ignoring the chaos of policemen all around her.
Mark was there in an instant, and they quickly rolled Carter onto the stretcher, "Come on, Carter. Stay with us." Mark muttered, and the younger doctor's eyes opened slowly.
"Good," Kerry said as she limped beside the gurney with her now-dented crutch. It looked like she'd have a souvenir from this night forever now, "he's conscious."
But she knew he was far from okay.
TO BE CONTINUED….
Rating: R, for bad language.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the psycho.
Author's Note: This is Ch. 2 of 'Nothing to Lose', and there's more to come after this. Soon, I promise!
Spoilers: Again, takes place after 'A Simple Twist of Fate' and before "Secrets and Lies', so everything is along the lines of what's been going on during season 8.
Cook County General Hospital ER: 10:58 PM
Elizabeth Corday frowned at the sound of the recording that reached her ears. She knew she had dialed the ER correctly, but now, she was being told that the line was out of service.
"Something wrong, Elizabeth?" Robert Romano asked as he drew up beside her in all his egotistical glory.
She turned her frown from the phone to him, "There's something wrong with the connection."
"Trying to reach Mark?" he asked nosily, giving her a false smile, one of the many things she hated about him.
She nodded, "Yes. I need to talk to him about our daughter." She made sure to sound firm. He probably knew all about their falling-out over Rachel and Ella. Everyone did. Still, she wasn't leaving room for talking about it.
Romano nodded, "Ah. Well, nothing to worry about, I'm sure." With that, he took off down the hall, no doubt preparing to scrub in for another surgery.
Elizabeth watched him a moment before hanging the phone up and heading toward the elevator. If she couldn't reach him by phone, she'd see him in person. Her spirits sank even lower when she saw the lights of the buttons blinking crazily. So the elevators were out of order too.
"My God," she muttered, not really sure what to do next, "this is a hospital. We can't do without elevators forever."
Sighing, she turned away and walked toward the surgeon's lounge. It was probably being fixed at the moment, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong down there.
Jing-Mei was going crazy. She was sure of it. She was almost positive this wasn't happening. The men with the guns, they couldn't be real. And Carter, whose head was on her lap, he couldn't really be injured.
Almost as soon as the thoughts passed through her head, Jing-Mei knew that it wasn't true. This was real. As if he was confirming it, Carter shifted and groaned softly. Mark had ripped his lab coat and had put it around the wound, but it was almost soaked completely through, "I'm cold." John muttered to no one.
She heard a sniffling beside her, and Jing-Mei looked up into the welling eyes of Abby Lockhart. They both knew that he was going to bleed to death if they didn't help him soon. Just as everyone else knew.
The room was deathly quiet, save for the mumblings of the guy who had started this, the psycho with the gun, and his assistants. Jing-Mei could feel everyone's eyes on her. No, not her. Carter.
"Sshhh," she whispered to him as she stroked his damp hair, "you'll be fine."
He was so pale. So deathly pale…
"Don't die," she pleaded quietly, so quiet that only she and Abby could hear, "don't die, John…,"
"How is he?" someone asked behind her, and Jing-Mei glanced at Micheal Gallant as he kneeled beside her.
She shook her head, afraid to say anything for fear that John would hear her. He nodded, then bit his lip thoughtfully.
"We have to help him," Abby whispered desperately.
Gallant nodded, "I know."
Jing-Mei could almost see the wheels turning in his head. She knew what he was like, and she knew he couldn't go very long without trying something, anything.
And that may get him killed.
Gallant couldn't keep his eyes off of Carter, lying on the floor, bleeding to death. They were in the middle of a hospital, with doctors everywhere, and they couldn't do anything.
It was the worst feeling of helplessness he'd ever known.
He rose and faced the leader, the one with the sawed-off shotgun. He made himself focus on the man, and not the bloody form of the victim who had been shot just a few feet behind him. The guy didn't even notice him, and Gallant made his way around the front of the desk, until he was standing in front of the leader. He could hear Dr. Weaver's whispered protests; he could feel Dr. Greene's eyes boring into his back.
The leader sensed him and whirled towards him. The gun was pointed directly at Gallant's head, and he forced himself to look away from the huge barrels and at the leader's face.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked disbelievingly, "get back there."
Gallant raised his arms in a gesture of placidness, "Look, man. I'm not gonna try to be the hero or anything here. I'm not that stupid."
The leader raised his eyebrows at him, but didn't say anything.
"I just…Carter really needs some help, man. He's dying."
The guy chuckled, "Do you really think I give a damn?"
"No, but we do," Gallant answered quietly, "just, just give us a chance to give him some blood and patch that wound up, okay? That's all I'm asking."
Gallant saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and his heart did a skip when he saw the man, the patient Kerry had been taking care of, in the doorway of exam 1. The gunmen hadn't even checked the rooms for patients. Now that he thought about it, there was another patient, wisely staying hidden, in the other exam room.
He made quick eye contact with the man, hoping that he caught the hint that he should stay hidden. The man's eyes widened and he slunk back out of sight. Hopefully, he would stay that way. Gallant knew that any wrong move would result in another death.
Gallant looked at the leader again, who was rubbing his eyes nervously, "Please, man. He's our friend."
"He is?"
Gallant didn't know what to think of the man's tone of voice. It was sarcastic, cruel, but he could detect a hint of deep sadness.
"What do you want?" Gallant asked quietly, gently, "why are you doing this?"
The man's body began to tremble violently, and his face turned blood-red, he was so enraged. Suddenly panicking, Gallant knew he had overstepped his boundaries.
"You wanna know what I want?" the man asked, staring wildly at him, at the people behind the desk, "you want to know why the fuck I came in here?" he was screaming now, and Gallant saw the tears streaming down his face.
"Just-just calm down," Gallant tried to keep his voice level, but he wasn't succeeding. This was getting very dangerous, very fast.
The leader was waving his gun around wildly, "No! No, don't tell me to calm down, man! I will blow you away so fast-,"
"Alright, I'm sorry." Gallant quickly said, but the guy was going off his rocker.
"You'll know why I'm here. You'll know, and then you'll find out what real suffering is!"
Gallant had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn't want to ask.
"Get behind the fucking desk!" he screamed, and Gallant did as he was told, "the good doctor's going to have to die there!"
Gallant stepped back behind the desk, his arms still raised. He hadn't helped. He had only succeeded in making things worse.
Joshua was about to start shooting the bastard in front of him. Who the Hell did he think he was, trying to talk to him like they knew each other? Like they were…friends?
He didn't have friends. The last friend he'd had died. Here.
He was going to make sure the ones responsible got what was coming to them.
The black guy stepped back behind the desk slowly. Joshua could catch a hint of failure in the man's eyes, and he almost laughed out loud. So he had wanted to be the hero, but Joshua knew better than that. He knew when to let them know who was boss.
He knew when he would start killing.
The time would come when all eyes were turned on this little ER, when the world would see the killers that worked under the facades of lifesavers punished, just as they should be.
Everyone would see.
Elizabeth was getting edgier by the minute. The feeling that something was vaguely wrong had quickly been upgraded to near-panic. Call it a sixth sense, but she knew there was something that wasn't right down there.
It was when she heard the sirens, not ambulance, but police sirens, that her fears were brought to reality.
She wasn't the only one that was worried. People were standing in the hallways, not moving, just wondering.
"Elizabeth!" she heard her name being called and turned around to see Peter Benton sprinting towards her, "do you have any idea what's going on?"
She shook her head, "No. I haven't any idea."
She wanted to know what the Hell was happening, and she wanted to know if it involved Mark.
"The elevators are still broken, and the phone line to the ER is still cut off." She told him, rubbing her face tiredly.
Peter frowned, "That's strange."
Romano strode down the hall toward them, his mouth set in a grim line, "It seems like we have a situation." He told them, and Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat.
"What's wrong?" she asked him.
"It looks as if someone has stupidly taken over the whole ER wing downstairs," he answered, and Elizabeth gasped, "the police want us to finish surgeries and close down the rest of the hospital. The traumas have already been redirected to Mercy."
"Wait, what about the patients that are already here?" Peter asked, his eyes the epitome of dissatisfaction.
"We have to start evacuating," Romano answered, "now."
Elizabeth couldn't believe it. Someone was downstairs, probably with a gun, holding everyone there hostage. Someone may have already been hurt…No, she couldn't think like that.
Beside her, she could feel Peter's concerned gaze, and she began to cry softly. What if he was dead? What if she never saw Mark again? Hesitantly, he pulled her in an embrace, and she accepted his gesture of comfort, crying into his chest.
"What if he's dead?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.
She could feel him sigh, "Mark will be fine, Elizabeth. They'll all be okay. We'll figure a way out of this."
She didn't know if she could believe him.
Nathan couldn't believe this was happening. He had only come in for a flu shot. That was it. He hadn't expected the whole freakin' wing to get taken over by a psycho.
He could've done without the flu shot.
Now, he was sitting in the corner of the exam room, not really sure what to do. The black guy had let him know that he didn't want him trying anything, and he figured he'd better obey him. He was the doctor, after all.
He could hear the leader yelling and swearing up a storm outside in the waiting room, and Nathan flinched, hoping he wouldn't be found. He knew it would only piss the guy off to no end.
The woman beside him, Amy Rite, was the only other patient in the ER right now. She had managed to make it in there without being seen when everything had first happened. She had come because of a migraine. He could only imagine how much worse it had gotten.
"So what-what do we do?" she asked, her voice small and tremulous.
Nathan really had no idea, "I guess stay here until the police come," he gave her an encouraging smile, even though he felt like crawling in a hole and dying, "besides, I don't think they're after us."
"The doctors?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Yep."
At least, that's what he hoped. Not that he wished a death upon anyone. He certainly hadn't gotten anything other than horror after seeing that tall doctor, Dr. Carter, take it in the arm. He just wanted to see his kids again before he died. Maybe spend a little time with them.
"You got any kids?" he asked Amy, now that he was on the subject.
She shook her head, "No."
"Oh," he listened to the guy's yells. They had started to die down, "I do. Two. Jaime and Jonathon. Twins," he clarified, and she smiled, "yeah. I haven't seen them in awhile. A couple years, actually."
"Really?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Yeah." He suddenly felt like he had to see those two, more than anything, "I think I'll give them a call, spend some time with them. If…," he didn't finish.
She gave him a pat on the hand, "If we get out of this, I think I'm going to rethink some of my disconnections to friends and family," she looked down, "I haven't talked to my Mom in six years."
Nathan nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. So they had made promises to do things they should've done years ago.
He just hoped they'd be able to keep those promises.
Carter was so cold. He just couldn't seem to get warm, as much as he tried. His arm felt so weak…it still hurt like Hell, but it had begun to go numb awhile ago. Just…he wished he could get warm. That was all he wanted.
He could hear everything going on around him, he could feel Deb's hands on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. They were so heavy…he supposed he just needed to sleep a little, and he would be all better. Maybe he would be okay, like Superman. He'd be in perfect shape.
Just…sleep.
"No," the voice was distorted, but he could hear it, "John, stay awake, okay? Stay with me."
He didn't want to, "No. Gotta sleep," he muttered.
He was jarred from his lull when someone started shaking his head, back and forth. Weakly, he managed to wrench his eyes open, and he saw Deb's face above him, "Deb?" he asked, barely able to push it out, "you look all pink."
She did, too. Everything looked pink. Even the lights. The tears on her face looked pink…Abby looked pink, too.
"Come on John, stay with me." She said forcefully, and Carter tried to obey. She sounded scared. He didn't want to scare her…he didn't want to scare anybody.
Kerry couldn't stop watching Carter. Every minute, he seemed to get a little paler, and a little quieter.
He was dying.
She was scared out of her mind for him, and she wished, more than anything, that it had been her. Not him. He had been the one to put the patient before himself, only to be shot. He didn't deserve this. He had too much ahead of him. He was too kind, too talented…
But who was she kidding? That wouldn't change anything.
Kerry hastily wiped the tears away before anyone saw them. She didn't want to show how scared she was. She needed to be the strong one here. She just had to hold out…Carter had to just hold out a little longer…
The sounds of police sirens drew her attention, and Kerry felt the littlest bit of hope. Maybe they would be okay…
"Stay still," the leader ordered, raising his gun for emphasis, "they'll get the line fixed, and we'll be in business."
The line fixed?
Almost immediately, the telephone started to ring, and everyone jumped, startled. No one moved, afraid of doing anything.
"Get it, desk girl," the guy said, gesturing to Randi, "pick it up."
She did so, not taking her eyes off the leader, "Hello?" she looked like she was about to break down in tears, "they-they want you."
"Tell them not yet."
She nodded, "Not yet, he said."
Kerry studied the guy closely. He was pale and shaking, and she would bet that he was insane. He had to be.
"They want to know how many are in here." She said, swallowing nervously.
The guy frowned, "Tell him that it don't matter."
She did so, glancing at the gunman every few seconds, "They want to know-,"
"Tell them I don't give a fuck about what they want to know!" he yelled, enraged, "tell them I'll talk when I feel like talking!"
Randi's eyes welled with tears, and Kerry's heart went out to the young woman. She shouldn't have to go through this. None of them should.
She told them what he had said, and hung up the phone slowly, "Good, Randi," the guy said soothingly.
Abby didn't want to look at the gunman. She didn't want to see the insane face of the man who had shot Carter. She didn't want to see the face of the man who had shot a helpless patient without even a hint of remorse. She didn't want to see his smile. That crooked, unnervingly-cheery grin that made her want to cry.
Instead, she kept her eyes trained on Carter's face. His eyes were half-open, and he barely reacted to anything Jing-Mei said to try to keep him awake. It was obvious the bullet had hit an artery. His blood was everywhere. She was sitting in it.
"John," she said, and touched his cheek, almost sobbing as she did so. He was so cool, "John. Do you remember that time you went with me to find my Mom in Oklahoma?"
She saw him smile a little, "Yeah," he mumbled, and his eyes opened a little more to reveal the brown pools she had come to love so much, "that was…great." The last word was barely audible.
"And do you remember when you helped me deliver my baby, John?" Jing-Mei chimed in, "you were so supportive. I don't know if I thanked you for that."
John shifted a little on her lap, "You…you did." His voice was a little louder now, and Abby felt her hopes rising.
"What the fuck is this?" said a disbelieving voice above Abby, and she looked up into the eyes of a madman, "memory lane?"
Jing-Mei tried to bend a little over John to protect him, "Please. We were just-,"
The ringing telephone caused her to pause, and the leader gestured for Randi to give him the phone, "I'll talk." He grabbed the phone.
"Yeah."
John was mumbling something, the only sound in the room besides the gunman's voice.
"No, I don't want any fucking money," he answered, then slammed his fist down, "no, you know what I want? I want revenge! I want to see each of them die, just like they watched my brother die, and didn't do anything! I want to see them suffer!" his voice was high and had reached fever-pitch, and Abby closed her eyes against the horrible sound.
She knew that voice would be in her nightmares for a long time.
Abby had no idea what he was talking about, who he was referring to. So many people died in this building every day…and she was scared that they would be the ones to die in here today.
"I don't give a fuck! They deserve to die like my brother did!" Abby was amazed to see tears in the man's eyes, and for a fraction of a second, she wondered what had happened that had driven him to this.
Mark couldn't do anything. He wanted to, he wanted to help Carter so badly, but he knew he couldn't move, at the risk of being shot.
The man was so close, though, and his assistants were all out of sight, spread out around the different exits of the ER.
Each minute the gunman was becoming angrier and angrier. Mark could see the sweat pouring off of him as he cursed at the police, "It doesn't matter!" he was screaming so savagely now that Mark felt as if he was looking at a monster. Which…he was.
The gun was limp in his hands, and Mark knew that his chance was now. Gallant was looking at him carefully, and he nodded. As if on count, they both tensed, listening to his conversation with the police. He was distracted.
Jing-Mei could see what was happening. The killer had left his guard down. He was distracted, and Mark had noticed. As he yelled unmercifully, they were inching closer.
Her heart pumped faster and faster as they drew closer, until she felt like it was going to explode in her chest.
Then, Gallant and Mark lunged, and the gunman grunted, surprised. They wrestled with him over control of the gun, slamming into the counter. Mark had it in his hands and was trying to wrench it from his grasp, but he was struggling back. The guy was strong, spurred on by adrenaline and revenge.
Jing-Mei screamed as he kicked Mark in the gut, and the doctor doubled over painfully. Gallant was there almost immediately, wrestling over control of the weapon. The phone was hanging, forgotten, by its cord.
She heard Haleh scream as the leader gained control of the gun and took aim at Gallant's head with a cruel smile. Time seemed to slow down as he pulled the trigger, but at the last second, a silver object was there, knocking the gun up, and there was a thunderous blast.
Jing-Mei screamed this time as something shattered above them and sparks flew. Instinctively, she covered Carter, just as Abby did, against any further injury.
Then, darkness.
Elizabeth almost collapsed when she heard the gunshot from inside the ER. Around her, policemen were drawing their guns readily.
Something had happened…and she had no idea what.
"Please come home safe, Mark," she whispered.
Peter Benton could feel Elizabeth stiffen beside him as the gunshot echoed hauntingly. Either the gunman had shot someone, or someone had gained control of the weapon. He hoped, more than anything, that it was the latter.
He was more scared than he wanted to let on. He had to stay strong right now, in case there were injuries he had to deal with.
He hoped to God there weren't.
Abby shielded her eyes from the sparks made from the shattered light fixture. The whole ER was plunged into darkness from the damaged connections. There was the sound of struggling in the darkness, and Abby held back a scream as she heard the sound of a fist connecting with flesh.
Then, the back-up lights kicked in, and a soft, unearthly orange was suddenly shedding light around the ER. Gallant was standing over the unconscious killer, breathing hard, and Mark was leaning on the counter, the shotgun in his trembling hands.
Abby grabbed the keys on the desk and sprinted toward the front doors, hoping the other gunmen wouldn't reach them before she got there. Quickly, she unlocked the doors, and as soon as she did, the ER was flooded with policemen bearing guns. Before she knew what was happening, she was moved outside into the freezing cold, the others close behind her.
It was over.
Kerry watched as the remaining gunmen were brought out, handcuffed, from the different exits. The danger was over.
She looked down at Carter, who had stopped speaking a few minutes ago. They weren't out of the woods yet. Jing-Mei was crying now, Kerry didn't know from relief or fear for her fallen colleague.
"We need a gurney!" she yelled, ignoring the chaos of policemen all around her.
Mark was there in an instant, and they quickly rolled Carter onto the stretcher, "Come on, Carter. Stay with us." Mark muttered, and the younger doctor's eyes opened slowly.
"Good," Kerry said as she limped beside the gurney with her now-dented crutch. It looked like she'd have a souvenir from this night forever now, "he's conscious."
But she knew he was far from okay.
TO BE CONTINUED….