There was blood everywhere in the hall; on the floor, the walls,
everywhere.
There were no bodies. There were no patients, no doctors, no nurses.
There were only policemen and Swat team members.
"Come with me please," a policeman said to the small group of doctors
who had made it out of the lounge alive.
The man led them to the elevator, and pressed the button for the top
floor- twelve.
"Where are we going?" Deb asked.
"We're airlifting you all to a hospital across the border in Indiana.
The hospitals in Chicago are already over their heads from this mess," The
policeman left it at that.
Ella started crying from the SWAT man's arms.
Mark looked at his youngest daughter. He wanted to take her into his
arms, but he didn't have enough energy. He couldn't take it.
His gaze drifted over to Rachel, who was still unconscious, and being
carried in another SWAT team member's arms.
Mark looked at one of his daughters to the other. They both were
hurt, and both were helpless. It was a sight that a father should never
have to see.
The elevator opened up, and the small group walked across the
deserted floor to the stairs.
They walked up the cold, cement stairwell, and onto the roof.
The helicopter was all ready to go.
The man that carried Rachel got in first, and got her situated on the
gurney before stepping back out.
Mark, Carter, Dave, Deb, Kerry, and the policeman climbed in next.
Deb who was closest to the door, reached out for Ella, who was screaming.
It was a bit cramped in the helicopter, but no one complained.
Kerry, who was the only one not hurt, or occupied in any way, went
about looking through the helicopter's medical supplies.
She got Rachel started on some pain killers, first, because Kerry
knew that she would hurt when she woke up- if she did.
Deb inspected Ella for any injuries. The broken arm was hanging in an
awkward position, and there were now quite a few black and blue marks, but
all appeared to be fine.
Deb looked from Ella to Rachel to Mark, and realized how much alike
they looked. It was uncanny.
Carter was applying antibacterial ointment to some of the cuts he had
gotten from the brawl in the lounge. He offered the tube to Dave and Mark,
but both refused it.
Everyone was thinking to themselves, and all of their thoughts were
pretty much along the same lines.
"Damn," Dave thought, "That was close; way too close. We almost got
killed by that guy. He was crazy. worse than that. He was friggin' gone
postal."
"He was worse than Paul Sobriki." Carter thought, "He was killing
people for revenge. He killed for the hell of it. How does someone get to
the point where they want to kill?"
Deb was staring into Ella's eyes while she thought, "I can't believe
that someone would try to kill a child. This baby never did any thing to
him. Neither did Dr.Greene's other daughter, for that matter. How could
someone want to kill something so beautiful and precious?"
"I wonder who he got," thought Kerry, "Hell, for all I know, we're
the only ones from County left alive, after all of this,"
Mark tried not to think. He was afraid of the images and thoughts
that would go through his head. He couldn't just stop thinking though, "Oh
my God. Please don't let my family die. I love them. They are what I live
for. Are you going to take away the things that made me stay alive when I
had my tumor? Are you going to do that to me? Jenn's gonna kill me already
for Rachel. If my family dies and Jenn doesn't get me, I'll kill myself.
Honest to God, I will."
Everyone sat in silence. No one wanted to be the first to speak. No
one wanted to be the first to say the unspeakable.
It had been almost an hour in the helicopter. At last, the pilot's
almost inaudible voice said, "Here we are. We're right over the landing
pad."
The helicopter descended, and everyone braced themselves for the
helicopter to touch ground.
When it did, the policeman leaned over Deb and Ella to open the door.
"Everyone out," he said. Everyone hopped out, and the doctors at this new hospital escorted them into the building. Another group soon followed with the gurney that supported Rachel. "Look," the policeman said to what appeared to be the head doctor, "I don't want any of these people to be treated in the ER. They've been through enough today, and I think it would benefit all of them it you could keep them close together." "I'll try." "Look," the policeman said, turning to Kerry, "I gotta go back. Call me when you need anything. Some policemen will be back tomorrow to pick you all up and get whoever needs more medical treatment to Northwestern or Mercy." he handed her a card, Kerry slipped the card into her pocket, but didn't say anything. The policeman left without a word. The Chicago doctors followed the doctors who worked at the hospital to the elevator, which took them down four floors. The elevator doors opened up to a nice, quiet hallway, with a few nurses and doctors chatting idly with each other. "Did you hear what happened in Chicago?" One nurse asked. "Yeah. That guy shooting up the whole city, and then the hospital. It's scary to think that someone could do that here," another answered. The hospital staff hardly looked at the small group. "Here we are," said a nurse who had led the way. The group was at the end of a hallway with exam rooms on each side. Each exam room had three beds. "You can each have your own rooms, or you can share. Your choice," a doctor said. "I don't need any medical attention," Kerry said. Deb agreed, "Me either. I'm fine." "Look," one of the nurses said, "We've been told by the police to give you all examinations and to keep you here overnight. It doesn't matter if you don't think you need an exam or not. You're getting one." Kerry didn't have the energy to argue with that. "Well, do you want your own rooms or not?" The group of doctors from Chicago looked nervously at each other. They didn't want to be separated from what could be the only friends they had left. No one wanted to be the first to admit it, though. Finally Mark said, "Uhh. their my daughters, so we'll share a room, I guess." While the hospital staff rolled Rachel's gurney in, Deb spoke up and said, "Dr.Greene, you wouldn't mind if I go with you. to help you look after Ella." The real reason was that she was scared, plain and simple. She didn't want to be alone. "Hey, uh. Dave. Wanna bunk with me for the night? Make it easier on these doctors?" Carter lied. He was just as scared as Deb was. He didn't care if it was Dave that he was sharing a room with. Dave wasn't Dr.Dave any more. He was a friend. "Sure," Dave said, trying to sound passive, "Chief?" "Uhh. Yeah, all right," Kerry said, also trying to sound passive. She, too, didn't care that she was rooming with Dave for the night. It didn't matter. They had been through a lot together, and they were both scared. Everyone went into their assigned rooms, and chose a bed. "Dr. Greene," Deb asked, " What bed do you want?" Mark just sat on the closest bed to the door. "Okay," Deb said, "I'll take this one." She sat down. Four nurses came in, and began attending to their patients; two to Rachel, one to Deb, and one to Mark. The nurse laid a hospital gown down on Deb's bed, "Do you need any thing?" she asked. Deb looked down at Ella, and said, "A crib or an incubator for the baby." Suddenly, she realized how thirsty she was, so she added, "and some cups and a pitcher of water would be nice." "Right," the nurse said, "I need you to change into the hospital gown for me." Deb looked down at it hesitantly and asked, "Do I really need too?" "You're covered in blood," the nurse pointed out. Deb hadn't noticed this, and when she looked down at herself, she discovered that she did have some blood on her, some fresh, and some dried, "Fine," she answered. The nurse drew the curtain around Deb's bed and left. Deb laid Ella down carefully on the bed, and drew up the guard rail. She took of her once-white lab coat, and pealed of her blood stained t- shirt. She picked up the hospital gown, and was relieved to find that it had a back to it. Deb slipped it on over her head, and found that it was a bit big, and went past her knees. She pulled off her pants, and folded them and lay them on the bed. Deb took down the guard rail, and sat down. She leaned over and picked Ella up "Shh.. Honey," Deb said, even though Ella appeared to be quite fine. Deb began to hum a nameless tune to the baby.
****************************
"No. I'm not putting that on," Dave said adamantly. "Sir," the nurse said, with a hint of desperation in her voice, "I need you to put on this hospital gown." "No frickin' way," Dave said. It didn't matter what he had been through that day. He wouldn't compromise his personal dignity, "Don't you have some scurbs I can put on?" The nurse sighed and said, "I'll see what I can do." Satisfied, Dave sat down on the bed. Across the room, Carter silently put on the hospital gown. If he had had the energy, he would have argued with the nurse about putting it on. Long ago, Carter had trained himself to block certain thoughts from his head, and he employed that talent now. Kerry had already put the hospital gown on, and a doctor was now taking a history. "How did you get that leg injury?" the woman asked. Kerry sighed, and said, "I was born with it. The leg didn't develop as well as the other one during pregnancy," Kerry continued, "No, I'm not currently on any drugs, don't think I've had any symptoms of sickness, and haven't had intercourse recently. I'm forty-two years old, and have a history of low blood pressure. Any other questions?" The doctor was a bit taken back, but was scribbling on the chart, "No," she said, "None at the moment." After a few moments, she said, "I need to give you an exam." *********** "No, she's not allergic to any drugs," Mark answered, "At least not to my knowledge." "Okay thank you," the doctor said, and he wandered back over to Rachel's bedside. Mark stared at Rachel's monitor. It was slow and rhythmic. He looked at her IV. She had what looked like morphine on a slow drip. Mark looked away. He could hear Ella whimpering on the other side of the room. He was glad that Deb was taking care of her. He was drained of all his energy, and couldn't deal with a crying baby. "Elizabeth," He thought, "Where the hell are you? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you alive? I love you. I miss you. I need you now. I can't get through this, Elizabeth. I can't. I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I'm so sorry." ************ Carter braced himself for the pinprick. "There we go," said the nurse, "All done," as if Carter was a six- year-old. Carter looked at the bag of morphine. He had protested against the drug, but the nurse finally convinced him to take it. Carter hadn't had the energy to protest more than once. "The doctor with suture that cut for you," the nurse referred to the cut on Carter's forehead, "And we'll splint that finger for you. It's not a bad fracture. Coulda been worse." "Yeah," Carter said irritably, "I could have had a bullet lodged in my brain." The nurse said, "I'm sorry sir," and walked away. Carter was sorry he was rude to the nurse. He knew what she had to go through each day, and that her job wasn't easy. He didn't intend on apologizing, though.
"Everyone out," he said. Everyone hopped out, and the doctors at this new hospital escorted them into the building. Another group soon followed with the gurney that supported Rachel. "Look," the policeman said to what appeared to be the head doctor, "I don't want any of these people to be treated in the ER. They've been through enough today, and I think it would benefit all of them it you could keep them close together." "I'll try." "Look," the policeman said, turning to Kerry, "I gotta go back. Call me when you need anything. Some policemen will be back tomorrow to pick you all up and get whoever needs more medical treatment to Northwestern or Mercy." he handed her a card, Kerry slipped the card into her pocket, but didn't say anything. The policeman left without a word. The Chicago doctors followed the doctors who worked at the hospital to the elevator, which took them down four floors. The elevator doors opened up to a nice, quiet hallway, with a few nurses and doctors chatting idly with each other. "Did you hear what happened in Chicago?" One nurse asked. "Yeah. That guy shooting up the whole city, and then the hospital. It's scary to think that someone could do that here," another answered. The hospital staff hardly looked at the small group. "Here we are," said a nurse who had led the way. The group was at the end of a hallway with exam rooms on each side. Each exam room had three beds. "You can each have your own rooms, or you can share. Your choice," a doctor said. "I don't need any medical attention," Kerry said. Deb agreed, "Me either. I'm fine." "Look," one of the nurses said, "We've been told by the police to give you all examinations and to keep you here overnight. It doesn't matter if you don't think you need an exam or not. You're getting one." Kerry didn't have the energy to argue with that. "Well, do you want your own rooms or not?" The group of doctors from Chicago looked nervously at each other. They didn't want to be separated from what could be the only friends they had left. No one wanted to be the first to admit it, though. Finally Mark said, "Uhh. their my daughters, so we'll share a room, I guess." While the hospital staff rolled Rachel's gurney in, Deb spoke up and said, "Dr.Greene, you wouldn't mind if I go with you. to help you look after Ella." The real reason was that she was scared, plain and simple. She didn't want to be alone. "Hey, uh. Dave. Wanna bunk with me for the night? Make it easier on these doctors?" Carter lied. He was just as scared as Deb was. He didn't care if it was Dave that he was sharing a room with. Dave wasn't Dr.Dave any more. He was a friend. "Sure," Dave said, trying to sound passive, "Chief?" "Uhh. Yeah, all right," Kerry said, also trying to sound passive. She, too, didn't care that she was rooming with Dave for the night. It didn't matter. They had been through a lot together, and they were both scared. Everyone went into their assigned rooms, and chose a bed. "Dr. Greene," Deb asked, " What bed do you want?" Mark just sat on the closest bed to the door. "Okay," Deb said, "I'll take this one." She sat down. Four nurses came in, and began attending to their patients; two to Rachel, one to Deb, and one to Mark. The nurse laid a hospital gown down on Deb's bed, "Do you need any thing?" she asked. Deb looked down at Ella, and said, "A crib or an incubator for the baby." Suddenly, she realized how thirsty she was, so she added, "and some cups and a pitcher of water would be nice." "Right," the nurse said, "I need you to change into the hospital gown for me." Deb looked down at it hesitantly and asked, "Do I really need too?" "You're covered in blood," the nurse pointed out. Deb hadn't noticed this, and when she looked down at herself, she discovered that she did have some blood on her, some fresh, and some dried, "Fine," she answered. The nurse drew the curtain around Deb's bed and left. Deb laid Ella down carefully on the bed, and drew up the guard rail. She took of her once-white lab coat, and pealed of her blood stained t- shirt. She picked up the hospital gown, and was relieved to find that it had a back to it. Deb slipped it on over her head, and found that it was a bit big, and went past her knees. She pulled off her pants, and folded them and lay them on the bed. Deb took down the guard rail, and sat down. She leaned over and picked Ella up "Shh.. Honey," Deb said, even though Ella appeared to be quite fine. Deb began to hum a nameless tune to the baby.
****************************
"No. I'm not putting that on," Dave said adamantly. "Sir," the nurse said, with a hint of desperation in her voice, "I need you to put on this hospital gown." "No frickin' way," Dave said. It didn't matter what he had been through that day. He wouldn't compromise his personal dignity, "Don't you have some scurbs I can put on?" The nurse sighed and said, "I'll see what I can do." Satisfied, Dave sat down on the bed. Across the room, Carter silently put on the hospital gown. If he had had the energy, he would have argued with the nurse about putting it on. Long ago, Carter had trained himself to block certain thoughts from his head, and he employed that talent now. Kerry had already put the hospital gown on, and a doctor was now taking a history. "How did you get that leg injury?" the woman asked. Kerry sighed, and said, "I was born with it. The leg didn't develop as well as the other one during pregnancy," Kerry continued, "No, I'm not currently on any drugs, don't think I've had any symptoms of sickness, and haven't had intercourse recently. I'm forty-two years old, and have a history of low blood pressure. Any other questions?" The doctor was a bit taken back, but was scribbling on the chart, "No," she said, "None at the moment." After a few moments, she said, "I need to give you an exam." *********** "No, she's not allergic to any drugs," Mark answered, "At least not to my knowledge." "Okay thank you," the doctor said, and he wandered back over to Rachel's bedside. Mark stared at Rachel's monitor. It was slow and rhythmic. He looked at her IV. She had what looked like morphine on a slow drip. Mark looked away. He could hear Ella whimpering on the other side of the room. He was glad that Deb was taking care of her. He was drained of all his energy, and couldn't deal with a crying baby. "Elizabeth," He thought, "Where the hell are you? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you alive? I love you. I miss you. I need you now. I can't get through this, Elizabeth. I can't. I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I'm so sorry." ************ Carter braced himself for the pinprick. "There we go," said the nurse, "All done," as if Carter was a six- year-old. Carter looked at the bag of morphine. He had protested against the drug, but the nurse finally convinced him to take it. Carter hadn't had the energy to protest more than once. "The doctor with suture that cut for you," the nurse referred to the cut on Carter's forehead, "And we'll splint that finger for you. It's not a bad fracture. Coulda been worse." "Yeah," Carter said irritably, "I could have had a bullet lodged in my brain." The nurse said, "I'm sorry sir," and walked away. Carter was sorry he was rude to the nurse. He knew what she had to go through each day, and that her job wasn't easy. He didn't intend on apologizing, though.