"Where am I going?" Rachel asked, "Is my sister going with me? I'm
not leaving my sister."
The transport attendant smiled at her and said, "Your sister is going
with you. Don't worry." At that, Rachel settled down into the moving bed.
Mark lingered behind his daughters, walking slowly, along with
Carter, Deb, Kerry, and Malucci. He knew something was terribly wrong. He
knew they had all been through a lot, but they seemed to be taking it
harder now. Deb had gotten sick, and Kerry was having more trouble walking
than usual. Something had happened when they had gone off with the
investigator, Mark just didn't know what.
Carter was back, helping Kerry, who still didn't have a crutch, and
was still refusing a wheelchair. Until today, she hadn't realized how much
she depended on that crutch.
Malucci was just barely managing to keep his composure. He wanted to
yell and scream. He wanted to hurt the one responsible for his friends'
deaths. He wanted to kill the man who had done it. Dave wanted revenge.
"Dammit, guys. Something's wrong with you. What is it?" Mark asked.
He couldn't take the awkwardness between them all any more.
They all ignored him. His words stung, even though they were not
intended to be hurtful. They couldn't tell him. They couldn't.
Mark gave them a moment to answer, but when none came, he turned
around and cut off their path, "What happened when you were with the
policeman? What? You go off, and your absolutely fine, considering what's
happened in the past forty-eight hours, and then when you come back, you
look like you went through hell. What happened?"
Deb, Kerry, Dave, and Carter all threw each other confused and
questioning glances, none of them knowing how to respond.
"Well?" Mark asked, his feet planted to the floor. He was not going
to move until he got an answer.
They all just stared back at him. They knew he would find out
eventually. None of them wanted to be the bearer of more bad news, though.
Suddenly, Deb just started crying. She made no effort to conceal her
tears. She just let them flow. Through her tears she yelled, "We did go
through hell. We saw our friends- dead. Twenty of them, maybe. All of them
dead because of a bullet from that guy. All of them dead. We're practically
the only ones that made it out of the damn ER alive. Twenty people, and
that was only one hospital morgue. God knows how many others are dead. Are
you happy? Are you? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Deb's words hung in
the air like a dense fog that would never lift.
No one said any thing. Kerry, Carter, and Dave looked away. They had
seen to much death, to much sadness. No one wanted to see Mark's reaction.
No one could bear it.
Mark turned away from the group, and walked away, leaving them
standing in the middle of the hallway.
"Twenty people dead, because of me." All through this, he had been
able to convince himself that none of it was his fault. Not any more.
Reality had struck.
Mark walked the halls for a while, sometimes crying. A few doctors
and nurses noticed, but didn't stop to say a comforting word, or ask what
was wrong.
After a while, Mark headed up to the ICU. When he walked into
Elizabeth's and his daughter's room, he found the policeman there, taking
statements from Elizabeth and Rachel.
Mark waited outside the door, making sure to tune out the words
coming from inside the room. When the policeman came out, Mark pulled him
aside, and asked, straight out, "Who died?"
The policeman immediately recognized Mark, but wasn't prepared to
answer the question, "Excuse me?"
Mark asked, his question again, clarifying what he meant, "Who got
shot in the hospital?"
The policeman immediately switched modes, "I'm sorry. I can't discuss
that with you."
Mark retorted, "Which of my friends died? Who's deaths did I cause?
Tell me. Please."
At this, the policeman looked helpless. He looked like a six year old
at Halloween, dressed up in a policeman's uniform. After a second, he took
out the infamous list, and handed it to Mark.
Mark scrutinized it. Every name brought back memories. Some he didn't
know, but wished he did. With every name, the sadness deepened. When he was
finished, he muttered a "thank you" and dropped the list, and walked away
to recompose himself.
At that moment, Mark wished he was on the roof of County, looking out
over Chicago. That's where he went when he needed to think. That's where he
went to talk important things over with his friends. That's where he found
other people that needed a reassuring word. He would never see some of
those people again.
After taking a few minutes to himself, he went back to Elizabeth's,
Rachel's and Ella's room.
"Mark?" Elizabeth asked, leaving an unknown question hanging.
Rachel and her looked up at Mark expectantly. They had heard the
entire conversation Mark had had with the policeman.
Mark looked up at his wife, and said, "Everything's fine." Both
Elizabeth and Rachel looked at him doubtfully.
Mark didn't know what to say to them, so he just took to looking at
Ella, who wouldn't ask him if he was okay, or look at him sympathetically.
He could feel Rachel and Elizabeth training their eyes on him
questioningly, wondering what was going to happen when he broke down.
*********************
Kerry, Dave, Deb, and Carter spent the passing hours wandering the halls of the hospital alone. They knew Mark would be there for days, but they weren't ready to go home. Going home would mean having to prepare for funerals and more sadness. Finally they settled into the waiting room in the ER, where there was a television playing the news. The "Chicago Massacre" was still all over the local and national news. Every few minutes they would cut in and show a short segment about one of the victims. There were photos and home video clips that the families had already donated. Most of the people shown were people from around the city; one of the ER's nurses was shown, but other than that, no people from the hospital were. Kerry, Deb, Malucci, and Carter were glued to the television. They were in the heart of the situation, yet they were learning new things about it. Suddenly, a new, shocking scene aired. It was a home video camera. The background was the ER. A man behind the camera was joking about his daughter's new cast, trying to make her feel better, saying that the first broken bone needed to be documented. The little girl managed a wan smile. Everything looked so serene and calm; everything was normal. Then they heard the shot ring out. It sounded exactly like it did when it happened; a bang, then dead silence for a moment, when people were registering the sound in their minds. After another shot rang out, people were screaming. The man behind the camera grabbed his daughter, and ran down the hallway with her. You could see Kerry pushing Mark into the lounge as he ran past them. The camera stopped, and the man knelt down. The camera showed the blonde of the daughter's hair against the tiled floor. It took Kerry a second to realize what had happened; the girl had been shot. The man dragged his daughter behind the admit desk, and set the camera, still recording, on the counter. In the corner of the shot, you could see Carter and Deb diving into the lounge, and Kerry's face through the open door. People were running past, screaming, looking for a safe haven, but bullets were flying everywhere. Then he walked by; he had the gun. He pointed it at an unseen target and shot. Fossen kept walking, and the shots still rang out. In the corner of the shot, you could see someone fall. The news station had edited a large portion of the tape out, because there was a blink, and you could see Fossen entering the lounge, which contained Mark, Deb, Kerry, Carter, Dave, Rachel, and Ella. The video ended there. Kerry, Deb, Carter, and Dave sat in silence for a few seconds. Then Kerry leaned over a vomited. Deb was shaking so hard that a nurse came over to make sure she wasn't having a seizure. Carter and Dave sat in stunned silence. After the nurse had finished dealing with Kerry and Deb, they looked back up at the TV, just as the reporter was saying, "For the rest of the hospital the living hell was over, but for the seven people in the lounge, it would last for another two and a half hours." Carter and Dave exchanged glances, and then kept staring at the television. The reporter continued, "After Derek Fossen entered the lounge, he walked in on five doctors and two children. The doctors were named Mark Greene, Kerry Weaver, Jing-Mei Chen, Dave Malucci, and John Carter. The names of the fourteen year old and baby girl are not available to us, because they are minors." As their names were recited, each person shuddered. Next to them, a woman, who was also watching the television, said, "God, those poor people," she turned to Deb and said, "I hope they're okay." Deb said, "They are, don't worry." Then she returned her attention to the television. "The fourteen year old girl received a minor bullet wound and a concussion while being held hostage. After two and a half hours, the two male doctors attacked Fossen, and succeeded in subdueing him for a minute before the Chicago Police Department and SWAT Team could intervene. We've been told that the hostages have been airlifted to a hospital in Indiana for care. Neither theirs nor Derek Fossen's condition is known." Deb immediately regretted what she said to the woman who had just talked to her. The woman turned back and said, "How do you know they're okay?" Deb thought of a way out, but Kerry jumped in and said, "Faith. Just got to hope." The woman considered this for a moment, and then said, "Thank you." After she had turned away, Kerry said, under her breathe, "Faith. Yeah right."
Kerry, Dave, Deb, and Carter spent the passing hours wandering the halls of the hospital alone. They knew Mark would be there for days, but they weren't ready to go home. Going home would mean having to prepare for funerals and more sadness. Finally they settled into the waiting room in the ER, where there was a television playing the news. The "Chicago Massacre" was still all over the local and national news. Every few minutes they would cut in and show a short segment about one of the victims. There were photos and home video clips that the families had already donated. Most of the people shown were people from around the city; one of the ER's nurses was shown, but other than that, no people from the hospital were. Kerry, Deb, Malucci, and Carter were glued to the television. They were in the heart of the situation, yet they were learning new things about it. Suddenly, a new, shocking scene aired. It was a home video camera. The background was the ER. A man behind the camera was joking about his daughter's new cast, trying to make her feel better, saying that the first broken bone needed to be documented. The little girl managed a wan smile. Everything looked so serene and calm; everything was normal. Then they heard the shot ring out. It sounded exactly like it did when it happened; a bang, then dead silence for a moment, when people were registering the sound in their minds. After another shot rang out, people were screaming. The man behind the camera grabbed his daughter, and ran down the hallway with her. You could see Kerry pushing Mark into the lounge as he ran past them. The camera stopped, and the man knelt down. The camera showed the blonde of the daughter's hair against the tiled floor. It took Kerry a second to realize what had happened; the girl had been shot. The man dragged his daughter behind the admit desk, and set the camera, still recording, on the counter. In the corner of the shot, you could see Carter and Deb diving into the lounge, and Kerry's face through the open door. People were running past, screaming, looking for a safe haven, but bullets were flying everywhere. Then he walked by; he had the gun. He pointed it at an unseen target and shot. Fossen kept walking, and the shots still rang out. In the corner of the shot, you could see someone fall. The news station had edited a large portion of the tape out, because there was a blink, and you could see Fossen entering the lounge, which contained Mark, Deb, Kerry, Carter, Dave, Rachel, and Ella. The video ended there. Kerry, Deb, Carter, and Dave sat in silence for a few seconds. Then Kerry leaned over a vomited. Deb was shaking so hard that a nurse came over to make sure she wasn't having a seizure. Carter and Dave sat in stunned silence. After the nurse had finished dealing with Kerry and Deb, they looked back up at the TV, just as the reporter was saying, "For the rest of the hospital the living hell was over, but for the seven people in the lounge, it would last for another two and a half hours." Carter and Dave exchanged glances, and then kept staring at the television. The reporter continued, "After Derek Fossen entered the lounge, he walked in on five doctors and two children. The doctors were named Mark Greene, Kerry Weaver, Jing-Mei Chen, Dave Malucci, and John Carter. The names of the fourteen year old and baby girl are not available to us, because they are minors." As their names were recited, each person shuddered. Next to them, a woman, who was also watching the television, said, "God, those poor people," she turned to Deb and said, "I hope they're okay." Deb said, "They are, don't worry." Then she returned her attention to the television. "The fourteen year old girl received a minor bullet wound and a concussion while being held hostage. After two and a half hours, the two male doctors attacked Fossen, and succeeded in subdueing him for a minute before the Chicago Police Department and SWAT Team could intervene. We've been told that the hostages have been airlifted to a hospital in Indiana for care. Neither theirs nor Derek Fossen's condition is known." Deb immediately regretted what she said to the woman who had just talked to her. The woman turned back and said, "How do you know they're okay?" Deb thought of a way out, but Kerry jumped in and said, "Faith. Just got to hope." The woman considered this for a moment, and then said, "Thank you." After she had turned away, Kerry said, under her breathe, "Faith. Yeah right."