Sorry for the delay - been moving house and sitting exams. I think this is the weakest chapter so far - I find Weaver difficult to write but it would be wrong to leave her out.
Chapter 13: "Shades Of Grey"
Kerry Weaver, M.D
I was trying not to face them, trying not to look either of them in the eye. I knew I was as
in the wrong as they both had been. If I hadn't been overruled, neither of them would be
there - a tension and a weight I felt only too heavy. They hated me and I didn't blame
them. I couldn't ignore her though. Jing-Mei - the thorn in my side.
"Glad to be back?"
It sounded sarcastic, defensive. I turned to watch her, waiting for a response, any
response.
"Yeah, I am,"
Course she was. She'd oneupped me, and there was a slightly superior note in her voice. I
looked from her to him and back down again, quickly noting the expressions on both their
faces. What exactly could I do or say to lift this emotional pall? No apology of mine would
make any difference to the single-minded twosome who stood before me. All I could say
would make me seem more bitter than I already did. I saw them head for the door and was
secretly relieved, but only momentarily. My back hit the floor, and shock richoceted
through my body before I passed into unconciousnes. It again lasted only seconds. I woke
up and looked around, seeing the carnage and for virtually the first time ever I panicked. I
tried to move but resigned myself to failure. I realised I couldn't feel my legs, nothing
below my waist. This was a bad dream, it had to be.
"Hello!"
I heard a desperate cry, an anyone please answer me plea. I had to answer, had to let her
know I was alive. How alive I couldn't be sure, but alive. I felt oddly disembodied - I had
my voice but it was the only part of my body I had any control over.
"Jing-Mei, is that you?"
I answered, my voice catching on the dust in my throat. I couldn't sense her movement,
my vision was blocked by debris and I honestly daren't move.
"Kerry?"
"Yes. Are you hurt?"
If she wasn't, she could get out of here and get help. Was I thinking about myself or her?
Well, both. Human nature to want to live isn't it? I did hope Jing-Mei was alright, I
wouldn't wish her any harm, but my primary thought was 'get me out'.
"Not badly. Chests tight but I'll live. You?"
Typical of her. The ultimate survivor. How could I answer? I didn't know.
"Don't think so,"
I was. I knew I was, although I couldn't pinpoint where or how. It was best to say no and
allow her to concentrate on other things.
"Can you move?"
She asked. I scrabbled against the wood and plaster around me momentarily, although
deep down I knew it was hopeless. I wasn't aware of a struggle to breathe, though it
probably seemed insignificant compared to the situation.
"Kind of,"
I answered, defeated. I couldn't see her, but I could imagine the expression on her face.
"Anyone else in this room, can you remember?"
They'd both been moving. Had he gotten out or had he been caught on the move? I hadn't
been paying close enough attention.
"Dave, I think,"
I answered, choking slightly as the fumes snagged in my mouth. I wished I could see what
was going on. I hated this powerlessness. Frustration added to everything else in me. I
waited a few seconds for any response.
"Is he there?"
I asked, my voice getting smaller, all I had left of me slipping away too. She didn't answer
and not knowing was beginning to irritate me. There was nothing I could so, and it was
grating. I wanted out.
"Is he there?"
I repeated, clearer, more determined.
"Yes, yes, he's here,"
"Is he alive?"
I had to ask. If this had killed, metaphorically right before my eyes at least, I had ever
more reason to live. I did hope he was living. I wasn't that heartless. I knew somewhere in
this there would be great tragedy and pain, but still my escape mechanism forced me to
believe I would get through it. Maybe I was fooling myself but it was safer that way.
"Yes. He's alive,"
She didn't sound very sure. I didn't respond immeadiately. Not because I didn't care, but
because I didn't know what to say. I couldn't see, couldn't view just exactly the situation.
"Can you help him?"
"Not here. I can barely see him,"
There was a tinge of frustration in her voice. She would if she could, I knew that. I felt the
rubble around me shift slightly, and I knew what was happening instinctively.
"Jing-Mei,"
I let out all my energy in one anguished cry. The rubble shifted again, making my
breathing space ever smaller.
"Kerry,"
I heard her call to me. It had only been over me, she was still conscious.
"Please. Get help. Save yourself, Jing-Mei, or we'll all die,"
Save yourself and help save me. Get us all out. Breathing was noticeably more difficult
and I was panicking again now.
"It's on my to do list, Kerry,"
I don't blame her for being sharp with me. She was obviously tense and I doubted she
wanted to die like this either.
"Go, Jing-Mei,"
I cried out again, more urgently, competing with an ear-splitting crack overhead. I feared
the worse, envisioned the worse, but soon they were only visions. Of a feeble weakened
body and a disembodied, disorientated mind. The fire I wasn't aware of. I didn't worry
about anything else - couldn't fight the fevered nightmares, couldn't fight the apathy I felt
as systems inside me shut down.
I was rescued, I know that because I didn't die alone. I could sense someone else there,
even if I didn't or couldn't acknowledge it. I never walked, talked or ever woke up again.
I wasn't aware of dying, when it came. It felt perfectly natural, slipping away. After all my
feverish nightmares, it just seemed like the dream I'd been waiting for. And it was just like
waking up.
Chapter 13: "Shades Of Grey"
Kerry Weaver, M.D
I was trying not to face them, trying not to look either of them in the eye. I knew I was as
in the wrong as they both had been. If I hadn't been overruled, neither of them would be
there - a tension and a weight I felt only too heavy. They hated me and I didn't blame
them. I couldn't ignore her though. Jing-Mei - the thorn in my side.
"Glad to be back?"
It sounded sarcastic, defensive. I turned to watch her, waiting for a response, any
response.
"Yeah, I am,"
Course she was. She'd oneupped me, and there was a slightly superior note in her voice. I
looked from her to him and back down again, quickly noting the expressions on both their
faces. What exactly could I do or say to lift this emotional pall? No apology of mine would
make any difference to the single-minded twosome who stood before me. All I could say
would make me seem more bitter than I already did. I saw them head for the door and was
secretly relieved, but only momentarily. My back hit the floor, and shock richoceted
through my body before I passed into unconciousnes. It again lasted only seconds. I woke
up and looked around, seeing the carnage and for virtually the first time ever I panicked. I
tried to move but resigned myself to failure. I realised I couldn't feel my legs, nothing
below my waist. This was a bad dream, it had to be.
"Hello!"
I heard a desperate cry, an anyone please answer me plea. I had to answer, had to let her
know I was alive. How alive I couldn't be sure, but alive. I felt oddly disembodied - I had
my voice but it was the only part of my body I had any control over.
"Jing-Mei, is that you?"
I answered, my voice catching on the dust in my throat. I couldn't sense her movement,
my vision was blocked by debris and I honestly daren't move.
"Kerry?"
"Yes. Are you hurt?"
If she wasn't, she could get out of here and get help. Was I thinking about myself or her?
Well, both. Human nature to want to live isn't it? I did hope Jing-Mei was alright, I
wouldn't wish her any harm, but my primary thought was 'get me out'.
"Not badly. Chests tight but I'll live. You?"
Typical of her. The ultimate survivor. How could I answer? I didn't know.
"Don't think so,"
I was. I knew I was, although I couldn't pinpoint where or how. It was best to say no and
allow her to concentrate on other things.
"Can you move?"
She asked. I scrabbled against the wood and plaster around me momentarily, although
deep down I knew it was hopeless. I wasn't aware of a struggle to breathe, though it
probably seemed insignificant compared to the situation.
"Kind of,"
I answered, defeated. I couldn't see her, but I could imagine the expression on her face.
"Anyone else in this room, can you remember?"
They'd both been moving. Had he gotten out or had he been caught on the move? I hadn't
been paying close enough attention.
"Dave, I think,"
I answered, choking slightly as the fumes snagged in my mouth. I wished I could see what
was going on. I hated this powerlessness. Frustration added to everything else in me. I
waited a few seconds for any response.
"Is he there?"
I asked, my voice getting smaller, all I had left of me slipping away too. She didn't answer
and not knowing was beginning to irritate me. There was nothing I could so, and it was
grating. I wanted out.
"Is he there?"
I repeated, clearer, more determined.
"Yes, yes, he's here,"
"Is he alive?"
I had to ask. If this had killed, metaphorically right before my eyes at least, I had ever
more reason to live. I did hope he was living. I wasn't that heartless. I knew somewhere in
this there would be great tragedy and pain, but still my escape mechanism forced me to
believe I would get through it. Maybe I was fooling myself but it was safer that way.
"Yes. He's alive,"
She didn't sound very sure. I didn't respond immeadiately. Not because I didn't care, but
because I didn't know what to say. I couldn't see, couldn't view just exactly the situation.
"Can you help him?"
"Not here. I can barely see him,"
There was a tinge of frustration in her voice. She would if she could, I knew that. I felt the
rubble around me shift slightly, and I knew what was happening instinctively.
"Jing-Mei,"
I let out all my energy in one anguished cry. The rubble shifted again, making my
breathing space ever smaller.
"Kerry,"
I heard her call to me. It had only been over me, she was still conscious.
"Please. Get help. Save yourself, Jing-Mei, or we'll all die,"
Save yourself and help save me. Get us all out. Breathing was noticeably more difficult
and I was panicking again now.
"It's on my to do list, Kerry,"
I don't blame her for being sharp with me. She was obviously tense and I doubted she
wanted to die like this either.
"Go, Jing-Mei,"
I cried out again, more urgently, competing with an ear-splitting crack overhead. I feared
the worse, envisioned the worse, but soon they were only visions. Of a feeble weakened
body and a disembodied, disorientated mind. The fire I wasn't aware of. I didn't worry
about anything else - couldn't fight the fevered nightmares, couldn't fight the apathy I felt
as systems inside me shut down.
I was rescued, I know that because I didn't die alone. I could sense someone else there,
even if I didn't or couldn't acknowledge it. I never walked, talked or ever woke up again.
I wasn't aware of dying, when it came. It felt perfectly natural, slipping away. After all my
feverish nightmares, it just seemed like the dream I'd been waiting for. And it was just like
waking up.