Psychotic Break-out
Hey guys! Thanks for all your reviews and thanks for waiting (I know it's been ages) but it's finally the summer holidays, so there should be some quicker updates!! There isn't long to go now though;)
All Disclaimers Apply
Chapter 15: Rescue Me
Jesse felt himself slump backwards onto the floor of the speed boat. The pain he found himself in was excruciating, and the tightness of his chest and lungs was constricting his breathing. As he fell, the boat gave a lurch and veered towards the left.
Chloe sat staring down at him with the air of one that has been released from a dark and oppressive prison. So occupied was she in her moment of emancipation, that she did not notice that the speedboat had changed direction. No. In fact she was mesmerised by the little crimson ruby that was blossoming from Jesse's chest. She did not see the rocky ridge of land that was jutting out from a peninsula of coastline. The ridge that they were now headed towards.
Suddenly a sickening crunch permeated the silence, and Chloe screamed as she saw that the boat was literally tearing its hull on a shallow bed of jagged rocks. She tried to inch forwards to grip the steering wheel and turn off the ignition, but the boat hit a huge boulder jutting out from the left and bounced spectacularly into the air. Chloe teetered on her feet as the boat rose, and was thrown backwards – arms flailing wildly - headfirst over the side of the boat with a final yell.
Jesse - who was being tossed from one side of the boat to the other as it glanced off the rocks - heard Chloe's blood-curdling shriek and felt the petrifying jolts of the speedboat reverberate throughout his body. There was an almighty crash as the boat collided with a fang of rock slanting up from the ground directly in front of it. The speed of the boat had created an immense momentum, causing Jesse to be hurled out of the boat. He barely found the voice to yell as he landed painfully on his leg. He heard - rather than felt - a bone snap, and he blacked out.
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Moments later he awoke to a cacophony of agony. He was consumed fully by the weight of this pain for a good few moments before his medical sensibilities began to rise to resurface. He shifted gingerly onto his back to take the pressure off his broken leg and began to ease his shirt up. From what he could see of his gunshot wound (which was little), it was dangerously close to his heart, just a few more centimetres and…But he was lucky that Chloe's aim hadn't been true. It may just have saved his life, but if nobody found him…
Jesse didn't really want to finish that sentence. He managed to remove his shirt and for an instant was surprised at how numb he felt. The pain was beginning to dull, frighteningly – before long he would become faint with blood loss.
He attempted to rip the shirt into a makeshift bandage, but his hands could not find the strength. He fumbled pathetically with the fabric before giving up. All he could do for now was try and apply some pressure to the wound, but the shirt wouldn't last long, not at the rate he was losing blood. He felt the wave of panic rise to the plane of his conscious, but he could not let it through – as long as he stayed calm he could try and tend to his wound and still remain aware of his surroundings.
He let his head fall backward for a minute or so before attempting to sit up. He knew that in the condition he was in, there was no way he should be doing it, but he had to get an idea of where he was. He checked his watch - with difficulty - it was only a little after ten. His only real hope was that the boatman would notice when his boat wasn't returned to him at eleven.
He slowly and agonisingly pushed himself to his feet, before lurching dangerously forward in a dizzy stupor and grabbing onto a nearby boulder for dear life. He began to cough – a dry, hacking cough – which brought a pool of blood with it. Jesse stared at it for a moment, his breathing ragged - it was as he had feared. His pulmonary arteries had been lacerated and the blood from this wound was collecting in his pleurocavity. He didn't have very long now before unconsciousness took him over.
As he clutched desperately to his boulder, Jesse could see a little of the hostile landscape before him. He was on a narrow tongue of land that reached out like a talon from the Californian coastline. He could see Chloe's inert form not far away. He remembered her scream…
He stumbled forward and grabbed onto another rock to support himself. From here he was allowed a better view. Chloe lay in a crumpled heap, her neck bent in a sickening fashion. It didn't take a medical degree to see that it was broken. Her eyes were open, blankly staring forever heavenwards. She was dead. A picture of Yoshe's face flickered suddenly into Jesse's thoughts as he studied the body of his would-be killer. Chloe had finally got what was coming to her, but at what cost? Jesse was surprised at just how detached he felt about Chloe's death. Being a doctor, death was his worst enemy, but Chloe had changed all of that. He'd never thought that someone's death could actually relieve him.
He moved forward, intending to examine Chloe more closely, but his foot caught on protruding rock and he fell forwards, his head glancing off the ground. His eyes rolled upwards as he sank into a faint.
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Bert Swanson checked his watch again. Eleven thirty. Eleven thirty and the young couple still had not returned with his boat. Raising his hand to his forehead to shield himself from the mid-morning sunshine he perused the huge expanse of ocean before him. Nothing. Not a single vessel.
He turned and walked back down the length of the small harbour towards his hut. He entered and made quickly for the ham-radio that he had connected to each one of his boats. He adjusted the frequency and then made a call out to the boat. Only static could be heard in reply. He adjusted the frequency slightly and then tried again. Still nothing.
He began to worry slightly. No one had ever failed to reply to a radio call, this was highly unusual. Of course, the two of them could have been so involved in each other that they did not hear the radio. They had looked pretty cosy…but still, better to alert someone. Just in case.
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Randy Davis scanned the watery horizon from the deck of the ship with his binoculars. There was no other craft on the water as far as he could see. It was an hour after Bert Swanson had called the coast guard to report that a young couple out on one of his boats had not returned. Randy had seen many a person lost or killed out in this ocean and he prayed that this would not be another one of these cases.
He looked to the left, towards the ridge of land that stretched from the Malibu coast. There didn't appear to be anything amiss. He was about to turn and look in the other direction when he saw a flash of white. He called to the captain: "Can you steer a little closer to the ridge, I think there's a boat over there!"
On closer inspection it transpired that there was indeed a boat, and it looked to be in bad shape. Randy and the rest of the crew could not see much of the surrounding area because their boat could not get closer to the ridge, shallow pools and jagged rocks blocked their path. Randy did not like the look of the abandoned speedboat, the prow had been completely mangled as it had ploughed into a wall of rock, and there was no sign of anyone. "I think we're gonna need a helicopter here" he shouted to his colleagues and they nodded their agreement.
"I'll radio HQ" one of them said and hurried off to the bridge.
Randy turned back to the view of the mangled boat. He had a foreboding feeling about this one. Something wasn't right.
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"Steve Look!" Mark Sloan cried excitedly as he spotted Jesse's convertible in a parking lot just off the road they were travelling on. "It's Jesse's car! I'm sure of it!"
Steve Sloan jammed his foot down on the brakes of his car and wrenched the steering wheel round to the right. The tires squealed dramatically as the car wheeled round into the parking lot. Steve parked his own car haphazardly and leapt out, followed closely by his father.
Steve reached the other car first and swept over it with his trained eyes. No sign of anyone in the car. Disappointment clawed at his insides; yet another barrier had been put up to stop him from finding his best friend. The time was now twelve thirty; it seemed a hopeless situation. He looked at his father, almost pleading him to say that he was wrong, that they would definitely find Jesse now, that he would be okay.
Mark, of course, said none of those things. He began methodically to check each part of the empty car. He found nothing of interest in the back, but in the front he was more successful. "Steve look at this!" He pointed to the passenger seat, "There's a long blond hair! It has to be Chloe's!"
"Dad, we know Chloe was with him, what's the big deal?" Steve sighed, shooting an exasperated look at his father.
"But at least now we know for sure. I think you should call for some assistance" Mark turned to look at his son. Steve was clearly upset, and hurting badly. He would not rest until Jesse was found, but it was plain that they would need help.
"Okay Dad" He sighed again and brought out his cell phone. Mark examined the ground around the car while Steve called Cheryl and asked her to get a crime scene team together. When he had finished, Mark called him over again.
"There's two sets of footprints leaving the car, it looks like they took the path to the beach. They can't have gone far, come on!"
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Jesse pressed his eyes shut tightly as the humming noise grated against the inside of his skull. He couldn't quite work out whether it was because of the throbbing pain in his head, or whether he was actually hearing it. "Go away", he moaned softly. He pushed himself carefully off his stomach and turned onto his back with difficulty. The noise was louder now, and he no longer believed that it was in his head.
It almost sounded like a helicopter. But…it couldn't be! Could it? Jesse opened his eyes and winced in the brightness of the midday sun. He knew it wasn't a good sign, he was hallucinating! But wait! Voices now he could hear!
Suddenly hands touched his face gently, and he opened his eyes again. A dark haired woman was leaning over him with a small torch, which she immediately began to flash into his eyes. Jesse automatically flinched as the harsh light blinded him for a moment. "What's going on?" He mumbled dumbly, and then began to cough. More blood spilled from his lips as his body shook.
"Hey" the woman said calmly, smiling reassuringly at him though she was horrified at his condition, "It's alright, we'll get you to a hospital" Then she stood up and left his field of vision.
"He's lucid, but he's not looking too great. He has a gunshot wound! And what looks like a broken leg. He's lost a lot of blood; we need to lift him ASAP! He doesn't have long" he heard her saying urgently.
"What about the female?" Another voice asked, this time male.
"She's dead" The woman replied, "she'll have to wait for the moment, this man needs urgent medical attention"
"Okay, we'll get them to lower the stretcher"
Moments later Jesse felt himself lifted onto a soft bed, and an oxygen mask was put over his nose and mouth. He sighed as he was wrapped in a thick blanket and strapped in. He was given words of reassurance again, before he felt the slight jolt as the stretcher was lifted into the air. He felt the harsh wind generated by the helicopter blades on his face, then dropped his heavy eyelids slowly and fell deep into unconsciousness.
To Be Continued…