Chain of Darkness
Chapter Fourteen--
A/N: Hey guys, I'm really sorry that this is short--I typed out this last bit in a hurry because I have to leave for the airport in like, ten minutes! Dont be mad at me--I really tried to get out more :) I will be back in a few days, just a short business trip to DC, but I wont have my comp with me :( Okay, anyway, thank you all soooo much for the terrific reviews--I'm so glad I'm not a complete failure at the whole fanfic thing! More will be posted by Tuesday, I promise!!!
**********
Jimmy sat there for a long moment, balanced on the edge of the dumpster, fighting to deny what he was seeing. He closed his eyes for a moment, the urge to vomit burning the back of his throat. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. It wasn't real. He opened his eyes again, half-expecting the horrible images to be a dream, but nothing had changed.
Jimmy moved his flashlight up the body. Maybe he wasn't …dead. The possibility seemed obscure. Blood caked the right side of Ty's face, indicating a serious head trauma and his jacket, gloves, hat and scarf were missing, leaving him scantily dressed in the sub-zero temperature. His legs were bent at odd angles and spots of dark red littered his once clean, white shirt.
Swallowing hard, Jimmy moved in shock, almost robotically up towards the unmoving body, forcing himself to follow training and instincts.
Check for pulse, check for breathing, don't move the…body—you could inflict further damage, don't let your emotions get in the way. The lessons and rules that once seemed so stupid and amateur to the experienced firefighter, played back and echoed through his head.
Instinct and his emotions were clashing, the former telling him to follow the book, do everything the right way, while the latter screamed out, compelling Jimmy to grab his friend up, get him out of there.
"Don't move him, Doherty, do the right thing," he mumbled to himself, trying not to act on his impulses. Shaking, he reached up to feel for a pulse. His gloved fingers sought movement but instead felt nothing but disturbing stillness.
Not satisfied, Jimmy yanked his right glove off with his teeth and felt again, his bare hand pushing up against Ty's throat, grimacing at the feeing of cold skin and thick, sticky blood.
There it was—A small, slow, rhythmic thumping. Davis wasn't dead.
He leaned over, putting his ear close to Ty's open mouth, listening for breath. The slight movement of air could hardly be called breathing, but Jimmy didn't care. He was alive, barely, but alive nonetheless.
Seeing the blue color of Ty's lips, Jimmy pulled off his thick jacket and spread it over him, shivering as the freezing night air assaulted his body.
"Ty? Hey, buddy, can you hear me?" No movement came from the still form. Scared that he would lose him, he kept his fingers pressed firmly into Davis' neck, keeping the slow pulse under his fingertips. "Stay with me, buddy."
He needed to call for help. Remembering the cell phone he'd dropped into his pocket, Jimmy quickly fished it out and dialed the emergency number.
**********
Faith stood at her bedroom window, watching fog swirl around the city skyscrapers, unsure why she was still awake. At first, she was sure it was because of the few drinks she'd had earlier, but now she knew. Something was wrong. The initial feeling of restlessness had since turned into a strange, heavy agitation.
She knew that the killer was out there right now, choosing his next target, perhaps. Maybe the victim was already dead, lying in a pool of blood, waiting for someone to discover the corpse. Faith shuddered at the thought.
A sleepy voice startled her. "Faith? Come back to bed, baby…"
Faith looked back, turning from her stance at the window. "Okay."
She would go back to bed, try to get some rest, try to sleep away the awful feelings roiling inside her.
**********
Jimmy felt the arctic wind cut through his sweater like needles. He had moved down into the old dumpster in an effort to shield himself from the icy gusts, but it was to no avail.
His ungloved right hand was numb from exposure, but Jimmy didn't seem to notice. Adrenaline and sheer panic had kept him warm enough. Ty hadn't moved at all since Jimmy had found him, and it was starting to worry the normally calm firefighter.
The slight, steady pulse under Jimmy's fingers was beginning to slow and his shallow breaths became almost non-existent.
"Ty, c'mon, stay with me," he begged, his own breath thick and white. "Help is on the way, just hold on…"
A moment later, he lost the pulse entirely.
Cursing, Jimmy moved his hand, probing for the elusive throbbing. "C'mon…" he murmured, half to himself.
"Ty, man, stay with me here." He placed his hands over Ty's chest, ready to begin chest compressions, but was unsure of the extent of internal damage. If Davis had any broken ribs, the normally life-saving CPR could prove deadly, pushing a rib through his heart or a lung.
Jimmy cursed again loudly, "Alright, okay, hang on, buddy." Opting for a less destructive alternative, he tipped Ty's lifeless head back and began mouth-to-mouth.
*********
Matt groaned loudly and rolled over in bed, pulling a pillow over his head to muffle the awful racket. It took him a full minute be fore he woke up enough to realize it was the phone. That damn phone. The handset rattled noisily against the base as he picked it up, still half asleep.
"Yeah…" He winced at the ruff, groggy sound of his voice.
He listened a moment. The person other end sounded awake, alert.
"Yeah, this is Harrison…Oh…I see…Really?" He sat up in bed, surprised. "Yeah…Alright, I'll be right down."
Shaking his head in amazement, he placed the phone gently back in its cradle. The latest victim hadn't died. This was crucial. The killer had screwed up.
*********
The sirens started as a faint wail and as they came nearer were shrill with urgency. Jimmy continued to breathe for his friend, listening to the racket of the sirens, the car doors slamming shut, the hurried footsteps as the life-saving paramedics made their way into the alley.
"Over here!" he yelled, pausing a second to check for a pulse. The steady beat hadn't returned. "Hurry up!"
A moment later, the metal sides of the dumpster rattled and a head peered over the side. The paramedic took a long look, sizing up the situation. "Okay, guys, I need a bag and a backboard over here," he called back to the ambulance, "Let's hurry it up!" Then to Jimmy, "You all right?"
"Yeah. He's got no pulse, been down for about 4 minutes," Jimmy informed him. He resumed CPR as a few men climbed up and over into the dumpster, hauling in a bright orange backboard and numerous bags of medical supplies.
A tall paramedic moved in, gently moving Jimmy out of the way to check Ty's vitals. "No heartbeat or breath sounds, let's bag him and get him out of here, bring me some saline and the paddles!" he ordered.
Jimmy backed off as they moved in and placed an oxygen bag over Ty's open mouth, pumping vital air into his empty lungs. They worked quickly as they fastened a neck brace around his head, and then carefully rolled him onto the backboard, strapping him in tightly. Jimmy grabbed one of the handles along with the other men, needing to help somehow.
"Okay, guys, on my count," the paramedic ordered. "One…two…three!"
Straining, they all lifted together, pushing Ty up, over their heads and out of the metal box, to the waiting hands below. As soon as he was out, the paramedics wasted no time, hooking him up immediately to various heart monitors and IV lines, "Still no rhythm. Get me Epi and charge the paddles!"
Jimmy watched numbly as they arranged the paddles on Ty's bleeding chest, visibly shaken and cold, his heart pounding in fear. Nothing in his whole career had been so disturbing, so hard to watch; so hard to believe in its reality.
Police cars pulled in, their lights casting a kaleidoscope of red and blue across the graffiti-marked alley walls. People ran around him madly, but he hardly noticed them, his eyes and thoughts focused intently the brightly colored backboard and its burden. Time moved into slow motion, images of the scene burning themselves permanently into his memory.
"Clear!" The shout resonated through the noisy alley, piercing into his stomach, turning it painfully. He took a slow, shaky breath, willing Ty to respond.
Davis jerked upwards as electricity shocked through his body. The shriek of the monitor drowned out the frantic calls of the paramedics as they hastily loaded him into the waiting bus. Jimmy moved to go with them, but was pulled aside by a cop. "Sir, you need to stay here, get checked out."
Jimmy just stood there and nodded dully, "Please let him be okay…" he prayed silently.
**********
Matt buttoned the top button of his overcoat as he made his way hurriedly into the derelict alley. The crime scene was fresh; he'd just seen the ambulance carrying the injured officer scream down the street. This was good. Sometimes clues were lost as time went by.
He flashed his badge at the nearest officer, "I was told that you have the guy that found him here. Where is he? I need to talk with him." The cop mutely pointed at a tall young man, sitting on the back bumper of an empty bus.
Matt studied him for a moment. The young man sat slumped over, his elbows resting on his knees, a tense look on his face. His dark eyes were nervous, worried, almost anxious. Matt had been told a few minutes ago that he was a close friend of the injured party. It was evident in the way he listened closely to the CB radio that had been handed to him, wincing noticeably every time another call blared from the microphone.
Praying madly for a break in the case, Matt walked up to him, nearly crossing his fingers. "Please, please, please, give me something," he whispered.
**********
Faith didn't hear the phone until after it had rang five times. Fred picked it up, mumbling gruffly a hardly-coherent greeting. "It's for you…"
He handed the phone to her sleepily before turning over, falling back to asleep.
Faith struggled to wake up fully, shaking her head to clear the haziness of sleep. "This is Faith."
"Faith? It's Jimmy," he sounded strange, his words tight and strangled, "Um, I'm at the hospital. Ty…" his voice cracked.
"Oh my God…oh God, no!" Faith felt her heart jump into her throat, imaging the worst had happened. Fred rolled over next to her, awake, a questioning look on his face.
"No, Faith. It's…He's not dead. He's, uh, he's in surgery. Its pretty bad…"
"I'll be right down," she hung up the phone and got out of bed.
"Faith?" Fred whispered, clearly confused.
"Ty," she answered simply, trying not to cry, "He's in the hospital. He tried to kill Ty…"
Fred's eyes got wide, "Oh, God."
**********
TBC...
Chapter Fourteen--
A/N: Hey guys, I'm really sorry that this is short--I typed out this last bit in a hurry because I have to leave for the airport in like, ten minutes! Dont be mad at me--I really tried to get out more :) I will be back in a few days, just a short business trip to DC, but I wont have my comp with me :( Okay, anyway, thank you all soooo much for the terrific reviews--I'm so glad I'm not a complete failure at the whole fanfic thing! More will be posted by Tuesday, I promise!!!
**********
Jimmy sat there for a long moment, balanced on the edge of the dumpster, fighting to deny what he was seeing. He closed his eyes for a moment, the urge to vomit burning the back of his throat. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. It wasn't real. He opened his eyes again, half-expecting the horrible images to be a dream, but nothing had changed.
Jimmy moved his flashlight up the body. Maybe he wasn't …dead. The possibility seemed obscure. Blood caked the right side of Ty's face, indicating a serious head trauma and his jacket, gloves, hat and scarf were missing, leaving him scantily dressed in the sub-zero temperature. His legs were bent at odd angles and spots of dark red littered his once clean, white shirt.
Swallowing hard, Jimmy moved in shock, almost robotically up towards the unmoving body, forcing himself to follow training and instincts.
Check for pulse, check for breathing, don't move the…body—you could inflict further damage, don't let your emotions get in the way. The lessons and rules that once seemed so stupid and amateur to the experienced firefighter, played back and echoed through his head.
Instinct and his emotions were clashing, the former telling him to follow the book, do everything the right way, while the latter screamed out, compelling Jimmy to grab his friend up, get him out of there.
"Don't move him, Doherty, do the right thing," he mumbled to himself, trying not to act on his impulses. Shaking, he reached up to feel for a pulse. His gloved fingers sought movement but instead felt nothing but disturbing stillness.
Not satisfied, Jimmy yanked his right glove off with his teeth and felt again, his bare hand pushing up against Ty's throat, grimacing at the feeing of cold skin and thick, sticky blood.
There it was—A small, slow, rhythmic thumping. Davis wasn't dead.
He leaned over, putting his ear close to Ty's open mouth, listening for breath. The slight movement of air could hardly be called breathing, but Jimmy didn't care. He was alive, barely, but alive nonetheless.
Seeing the blue color of Ty's lips, Jimmy pulled off his thick jacket and spread it over him, shivering as the freezing night air assaulted his body.
"Ty? Hey, buddy, can you hear me?" No movement came from the still form. Scared that he would lose him, he kept his fingers pressed firmly into Davis' neck, keeping the slow pulse under his fingertips. "Stay with me, buddy."
He needed to call for help. Remembering the cell phone he'd dropped into his pocket, Jimmy quickly fished it out and dialed the emergency number.
**********
Faith stood at her bedroom window, watching fog swirl around the city skyscrapers, unsure why she was still awake. At first, she was sure it was because of the few drinks she'd had earlier, but now she knew. Something was wrong. The initial feeling of restlessness had since turned into a strange, heavy agitation.
She knew that the killer was out there right now, choosing his next target, perhaps. Maybe the victim was already dead, lying in a pool of blood, waiting for someone to discover the corpse. Faith shuddered at the thought.
A sleepy voice startled her. "Faith? Come back to bed, baby…"
Faith looked back, turning from her stance at the window. "Okay."
She would go back to bed, try to get some rest, try to sleep away the awful feelings roiling inside her.
**********
Jimmy felt the arctic wind cut through his sweater like needles. He had moved down into the old dumpster in an effort to shield himself from the icy gusts, but it was to no avail.
His ungloved right hand was numb from exposure, but Jimmy didn't seem to notice. Adrenaline and sheer panic had kept him warm enough. Ty hadn't moved at all since Jimmy had found him, and it was starting to worry the normally calm firefighter.
The slight, steady pulse under Jimmy's fingers was beginning to slow and his shallow breaths became almost non-existent.
"Ty, c'mon, stay with me," he begged, his own breath thick and white. "Help is on the way, just hold on…"
A moment later, he lost the pulse entirely.
Cursing, Jimmy moved his hand, probing for the elusive throbbing. "C'mon…" he murmured, half to himself.
"Ty, man, stay with me here." He placed his hands over Ty's chest, ready to begin chest compressions, but was unsure of the extent of internal damage. If Davis had any broken ribs, the normally life-saving CPR could prove deadly, pushing a rib through his heart or a lung.
Jimmy cursed again loudly, "Alright, okay, hang on, buddy." Opting for a less destructive alternative, he tipped Ty's lifeless head back and began mouth-to-mouth.
*********
Matt groaned loudly and rolled over in bed, pulling a pillow over his head to muffle the awful racket. It took him a full minute be fore he woke up enough to realize it was the phone. That damn phone. The handset rattled noisily against the base as he picked it up, still half asleep.
"Yeah…" He winced at the ruff, groggy sound of his voice.
He listened a moment. The person other end sounded awake, alert.
"Yeah, this is Harrison…Oh…I see…Really?" He sat up in bed, surprised. "Yeah…Alright, I'll be right down."
Shaking his head in amazement, he placed the phone gently back in its cradle. The latest victim hadn't died. This was crucial. The killer had screwed up.
*********
The sirens started as a faint wail and as they came nearer were shrill with urgency. Jimmy continued to breathe for his friend, listening to the racket of the sirens, the car doors slamming shut, the hurried footsteps as the life-saving paramedics made their way into the alley.
"Over here!" he yelled, pausing a second to check for a pulse. The steady beat hadn't returned. "Hurry up!"
A moment later, the metal sides of the dumpster rattled and a head peered over the side. The paramedic took a long look, sizing up the situation. "Okay, guys, I need a bag and a backboard over here," he called back to the ambulance, "Let's hurry it up!" Then to Jimmy, "You all right?"
"Yeah. He's got no pulse, been down for about 4 minutes," Jimmy informed him. He resumed CPR as a few men climbed up and over into the dumpster, hauling in a bright orange backboard and numerous bags of medical supplies.
A tall paramedic moved in, gently moving Jimmy out of the way to check Ty's vitals. "No heartbeat or breath sounds, let's bag him and get him out of here, bring me some saline and the paddles!" he ordered.
Jimmy backed off as they moved in and placed an oxygen bag over Ty's open mouth, pumping vital air into his empty lungs. They worked quickly as they fastened a neck brace around his head, and then carefully rolled him onto the backboard, strapping him in tightly. Jimmy grabbed one of the handles along with the other men, needing to help somehow.
"Okay, guys, on my count," the paramedic ordered. "One…two…three!"
Straining, they all lifted together, pushing Ty up, over their heads and out of the metal box, to the waiting hands below. As soon as he was out, the paramedics wasted no time, hooking him up immediately to various heart monitors and IV lines, "Still no rhythm. Get me Epi and charge the paddles!"
Jimmy watched numbly as they arranged the paddles on Ty's bleeding chest, visibly shaken and cold, his heart pounding in fear. Nothing in his whole career had been so disturbing, so hard to watch; so hard to believe in its reality.
Police cars pulled in, their lights casting a kaleidoscope of red and blue across the graffiti-marked alley walls. People ran around him madly, but he hardly noticed them, his eyes and thoughts focused intently the brightly colored backboard and its burden. Time moved into slow motion, images of the scene burning themselves permanently into his memory.
"Clear!" The shout resonated through the noisy alley, piercing into his stomach, turning it painfully. He took a slow, shaky breath, willing Ty to respond.
Davis jerked upwards as electricity shocked through his body. The shriek of the monitor drowned out the frantic calls of the paramedics as they hastily loaded him into the waiting bus. Jimmy moved to go with them, but was pulled aside by a cop. "Sir, you need to stay here, get checked out."
Jimmy just stood there and nodded dully, "Please let him be okay…" he prayed silently.
**********
Matt buttoned the top button of his overcoat as he made his way hurriedly into the derelict alley. The crime scene was fresh; he'd just seen the ambulance carrying the injured officer scream down the street. This was good. Sometimes clues were lost as time went by.
He flashed his badge at the nearest officer, "I was told that you have the guy that found him here. Where is he? I need to talk with him." The cop mutely pointed at a tall young man, sitting on the back bumper of an empty bus.
Matt studied him for a moment. The young man sat slumped over, his elbows resting on his knees, a tense look on his face. His dark eyes were nervous, worried, almost anxious. Matt had been told a few minutes ago that he was a close friend of the injured party. It was evident in the way he listened closely to the CB radio that had been handed to him, wincing noticeably every time another call blared from the microphone.
Praying madly for a break in the case, Matt walked up to him, nearly crossing his fingers. "Please, please, please, give me something," he whispered.
**********
Faith didn't hear the phone until after it had rang five times. Fred picked it up, mumbling gruffly a hardly-coherent greeting. "It's for you…"
He handed the phone to her sleepily before turning over, falling back to asleep.
Faith struggled to wake up fully, shaking her head to clear the haziness of sleep. "This is Faith."
"Faith? It's Jimmy," he sounded strange, his words tight and strangled, "Um, I'm at the hospital. Ty…" his voice cracked.
"Oh my God…oh God, no!" Faith felt her heart jump into her throat, imaging the worst had happened. Fred rolled over next to her, awake, a questioning look on his face.
"No, Faith. It's…He's not dead. He's, uh, he's in surgery. Its pretty bad…"
"I'll be right down," she hung up the phone and got out of bed.
"Faith?" Fred whispered, clearly confused.
"Ty," she answered simply, trying not to cry, "He's in the hospital. He tried to kill Ty…"
Fred's eyes got wide, "Oh, God."
**********
TBC...