Murder in Band Camp X

Chapter Three: Hospital Fun and Back to Camp

-

The bus windows shattered with a massive crash as the left side of the Greyhound hit the road. The impact cut the bus' speed down to nothing so there was no residual movement, but broken glass shards sliced up Melody's arm and face and left slow rivulets of blood trickling down her neck. She could hear screams up and down the bus as people stood up in between horizontal bus seats and tried to make sense of what had just gone on. Many had awoken from slumber as the bus fell, and dazed cries of "What's going on? What happened?" filled the air. Over the general din, she could hear Lee howling in pain, yelling obscenities about his arm.

It was hard to think over the stinging pain in her arms and face, but dimly she realized a massive bass trombonist was crushing her. "Scary?" she said hoarsely, trying to move her arms but finding them pinned beneath his weight.

"I'm alive," the burly senior muttered weakly. "But my ribs will never be the same."

"Scary, my ribs will never be the same if you don't get offa them," Melody wheezed.

"Oh." Scary grunted again, and his huge weight was suddenly lifted off of her as he pushed up with his muscled arms and removed him, Penny, and Utah off of her back in one great heave. Penny squeaked and scrambled off to stand in the limited space beside him, and Utah scrambled up onto the seat that know lied parallel to the ceiling.

Gentle hands picked her up off of the offending glass and Melody felt herself being cradled in Scary's arms, and he was asking her if she thought she could stand up by herself.

"Of course I can," she murmured, and promptly passed out.

-

"Charlie? Blaze asked, holding the girl close with one arm and brushing hair away from her face with the other hand. Her hazel eyes remained closed and there was blood flowing steadily from a long, angry gash across the top of her temple. "Charlie!"

There was no response. He could vaguely hear Lee screaming about a broken arm, but Charlie wasn't waking up and her gash showed no sign of slowing the blood flow. Her arms fell limply against his side and he started to panic as he head lolled back with the characteristic boneless look only the unconscious could achieve. Blaze started to panic.

"She's no waking up!" He yelled, shaking Charlie gently and still getting no response. Oscar and Merry, crowded uncomfortably behind him, struggled to stand up and get out of his way. "Somebody help me get her up!"

"Here, let me help." It was Utah, dangling precariously from the high seats, and he grasped the underside of Charlie's arms and help to pull her up as Oscar and Merry hastily made their way to the front of the bus, where the empty windshield provided an exit. Blaze wrapped his arms around Charlie's waist and with Utah's help, they managed to get the unconscious clarinetist into a semi-standing position and lean her against the seats.

"Scary!" Blaze bellowed, looking for the burly trombone to help cart their sleeping beauty out of the bus. God knew he watched a lot of movies, and typical explosions usually followed scenarios like this as the gas tank caught fire. Scary was at the front of the bus, shepherding out underclassmen and carrying Melody in his arms.

"I'll be back!" he called without turning around, and he stepped out of the broken windshield.

"We've got to get her out of here," Blaze said urgently to Utah, who was hanging beside his head. Even in this accident he was managing to enjoy himself, but there were shadows in his grin and he dropped to the ground, glass crunching beneath his sneakers.

"I don't know anything about head injuries," he complained. "That Health course they forced us to take last year was pointless." But he was yanking a shirt out of somebody's travel bag and tearing it into manageable pieces, then wrapping them carefully – and not too tightly – around his charge's head. Then he helped load her into Blaze's arms and turned the trumpet player towards the exit.

The bus was now empty as uninjured students had fled quickly, and the distance towards safety looked incredibly far. But he had to get this girl to professional medical care.

"Out you go," Utah said, and he started for the door.

-

Lee's arm was definitely broken. The searing pain was beating at the back of his eyes and his vision was graying as he staggered from the bus and collapsed to his knees. "Mother of God!" he bellowed, trying to drown out the agony with the sound of his voice, and he briefly wondered how and why he was still conscious. A dark shape was heading towards him, indistinguishable in the dark of the night, and Lee grimaced and turned to see if the bus had been vacated yet.

The headlights of the Greyhound shone feebly, and the indoor lights glowed with only a token effort, but it was light enough for him to see Blaze take slow, uncertain steps from the wrecked bus, carrying a motionless form in his arms and being trailed by Utah. He looked about ready to fall over.

"Weakling trumpet," he muttered to himself. Cradling his broken arm to his chest, he managed to wrap it up the ripped areas of his shirt in a makeshift sling. Trying desperately to ignore the pain, he lurched towards Blaze and whoever his burden might be.

"It's Charlie," Blaze gasped as Lee neared him. "She won't wake up and she's got a bad head wound." Then he saw Lee's arm. "What happened to your arm?"

"Gimme the girl," Lee instructed, ignoring the question.

"But-"

"No buts!" Lee barked, using one of their band director's favorite phrases. "It's just a sprain, now give her here. Put her over my shoulder." Panic clouded Blaze's mind and he forgot about Lee's earlier screaming, and transferred his burden to the baritone's unhurt shoulder. Lee stifled a sharp gasp as it jostled his injured arm, but he wrapped his good one around the back of Charlie's knees in a classic fireman carry.

In the distance, ambulance sirens began to wail.

-

Strange ceiling tiles swam through her vision. A string of questions of questions ran through her mind, and Charlie shook her head in an effort to clear the fog from her mind.

Bad idea. White pain lanced through her skull and she sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes closed, tears leaking through the edges as she fought not to cry. Crying would involve sobbing, and that would be more pain than she could bear.

"Charlie?" someone asked, and a warm hand laced fingers around hers. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Blaze's face hovering worriedly over her own.

"Hi," she whispered, trying to fight tears. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital," another voice said, and she moved her head – much more slowly this time – to see Utah sitting in a chair. Beside him sat Megan Bergstrom, the senior Clarinet section leader whom she had met briefly on the bus, asleep in her chair and lying against Utah's shoulder. "Don't wake her," Utah grinned. "I'm pimpin' it."

Charlie let out a small giggle. "How long have you guys been here?"

"All night," Blaze interjected, bringing her attention back to his still-concerned face. "You got to the hospital at about 12:30 last night, and after you got out of the ER, and stopped being in 'critical condition', they put you in here… Mr. Defton gave us permission to stay."

"You've been here all night?" she asked softly, and Blaze gripped her hand.

"Of course," he said, and Charlie felt the tears began to overpower her resolve.

"Great," came Megan's voice, tired and filled with gentle sarcasm. "I woke up in the Young and the Restless." Her eyes widened as Utah grabbed her chin and looked her straight in the eyes.

"What are you talking about, Annabelle?" he asked in his deepest, most mysterious voice. "Do you have amnesia, my love? Remember, you're pregnant with an unknown man's child and cheating on your boyfriend Enrique with me."

"The nightmare continues!" she squawked, batting his hands away and standing up, taking refuge behind Charlie's bed. The clarinetist giggled again as Utah made wounded puppy eyes at her section leader, then stifled a huge yawn.

"What medicine did they give me?" she asked drowsily, and Blaze grinned ruefully.

"Enough to knock you out for a full eight hours," he told her. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

With that reassurance in her mind, Charlie lapsed back into dreams as Utah chased Megan from the room, calling out pet names as the frightened section leader raced down the hallway.

-

Three days later, the injured band members were in a complimentary hospital van, carting the missing students the last couple of miles to Band Camp. Aside from a freshman french horn named Beth that had already been sent back two days before with minor sprains and a small hairline fracture in her wrist, there had been no other injuries from the accident. Lee was slumped against the back of his seat, right arm encased in a clean white cast, and Melody sat across from him. Charlie was in the front seat, where the bouncing was at its least, so her concussion wouldn't worsen. The doctors had told her she was lucky there wasn't a fracture; as it was, her head was going to be sore for at least a good two weeks, and she was going to have a big scab, followed by a big scar, once the bandage came off.

But the point was they were all finally on their way to camp. The rest of the Knightsbridge Maroon Band had been there for four days, and the three of them were uncertain as to what devious plans the Brassholes had devised to constitute a 'Welcome Back' party.

"Here we are, kids," Mr. Defton said as the bus made one last turn onto a narrow road that wound its way through Texas drought-resistant brush and harsh mesquite. Interspersed between the unruly growth were relatively large pines, small rivulets of tree sap glistening in the hot summer sun. Charlie hoped the camp itself was more aesthetic than this. "Just a few more minutes…"

As they rounded the last bend, the came upon a huge clearing filled with people. Then entire 300 piece Knightsbridge Band had assembled in all their instrumental glory, and as soon as the van door opened, they – lead by the three drum majors Charlie had yet to meet – burst into the school alma mater.

Inside the van, Lee let out a huge groan. "Public situations," he sighed. "Too much opportunity to make an ass of one's self." Ignoring the dirty look Mr. Defton gave him, he hopped out of the band and did his best imitation of the Prince of Wales. Giggling, Charlie and Melody exited behind him.

"Goooo M'ROON!" The band shouted as the alma mater ended, and this time, the drumline was drumming on real drums and the ringing sound of cymbal crashes and rimshots filled the air. Melody, Lee, and Charlie all joined in. "Goooo WHITE! Goooo M'ROONIES! FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT! M'roonies fight, m'roonies fight, m'roon m'roonies, FIGHT FIGHT!" Then the rumbling sounds of a huge 5A high school band mooing filled the air. Grinning wide enough to fear her cheeks would split, Charlie followed the hyper band nerds to the Pavilion, and open-door area filled with picnic tables piled high with good stuff in honor of the injured ones' return. For the first time, Charlie felt like she fit in.

Merry had it right when she proposed the toast. "To band!" she yelled, throwing back a shot of fruit punch. "The biggest and best family you'll ever have for four years!"