A crash of thunder sounded, so loud it seemingly shook the air. Amanda looked up at the ceiling as the lights flickered slightly.
"I hope the storm doesn't knock the power out. CJ and Dion don't like the dark…" she trailed off, lost in concern for her two children.
"I'll get some candles just in case…" Mark stood and walked towards the kitchen before a faint sound caught his attention. Frowning in concentration Mark tried to decipher what the noise was. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite fix it in his mind. It was so faint, being drowned out by the raging storm. Tilting his head towards the sound Mark tried to place the direction the noise was coming from. He walked round slowly, straining to hear the noise; although he doubted its importance his fascination with mysteries drove him to investigate.
The unidentified noise was stronger now; at the front of the house. It sounds like a horn?… Mark thought, his frown increasing. He pulled back the curtain and strained his eyes looking out into the black night. Nothing.
Convinced that the noise was indeed coming from the area in front of the house Mark dropped the curtain back into place and went to the front door. He pulled it open, a gust of wind spraying rain onto the welcome mat, splattering Mark's trousers with dark droplets of water. There! In the distance he could see it, the faint glow of car headlights. Seizing an umbrella from the rack at the side of the door he stepped out into the darkness and opened it above his head. The wind was ferocious; threatening to tear the umbrella from Mark's hand at any moment. Clutching it to him Mark made his way down the front steps, screwing his eyes up against the wind trying desperately to make out the stationary car in the distance. It was a sports car.
Jesse.
Mark ran forwards stopping short of the car, his stomach clenching painfully as he made out the motionless form of his friend slumped over the steering wheel. The urge to run to his friend was overwhelming but Mark knew that he would need help.
"STEVE!" Mark bellowed, his voice being carried away with the wind. "STEVE!" The sound was drowned out, imperceptible even to his own ears.
Mark turned to run back to the house, loathsome to tear his eyes from his friend but acutely aware of the urgency of the situation.
Abandoning the umbrella he ran. Rain pounded down upon him, soaking him to his skin in mere seconds. Clambering up the steps to the house he burst inside calling with every step.
"Steve! Amanda!"
Steve jumped to his feet even before his father came into view. The urgency he heard in his father's voice sounding all too familiar.
"Dad?…" And then he saw him. Dripping wet, an expression of unequivocal dread etched across his face.
"Mark?! What's happened?" Amada too had jumped to her feet her senses tingling with anticipation.
"It's…" he panted for breath. "Outside… the car…"
"What?" the confusion in Steve's voice was evident.
"Jesse! Come quickly" And with that he turned and began to run back outside, Amanda and Steve following close behind.
"Dad!?" Steve stood at the doorway watching as his father hurried outside into the pouring rain. "What…?" He stopped as he caught side of the red sports car; Jesse's red sports car.
Ignoring the deluge he too ran, almost slipping on the wet steps, but managing to steady himself. The distance from the house to the car was passed in a matter of seconds as Steve joined his father at the side of the stationary car. The sight of Jesse's unconscious form effected a rush of dread through his body. Please don't be dead, please…
Mark pulled the door open to access his friend, his concern increasing as Jesse's arm dropped limply as the support the door had been providing was removed. He rushed forwards to check for the pulse in the inert body of his friend and colleague. Finding a weak and slightly erratic rhythm, although worrisome, was enough to instantly end his fears that Jesse was beyond help. His immediate worries calmed Mark found that his instincts as a doctor took over. Careful to support Jesse's neck Mark gently pulled his body into an upright position. His head lolled to one side, eyes closed, face bleeding and ashen.
"Jesse? Jesse can you hear me?" He spoke clearly but received no response.
"Jesse it's Mark, if you can hear me open your eyes…"
"Dad?" Steve stood behind his father watching numbly as his friend failed to respond in any way.
"Mark, is he…? Amanda stood to one side of Steve, her unfinished question hanging in the air meaningfully.
"His pulse is weak, but it's there…"
Mark, who was still bent down busy examining Jesse was cut off when Steve spoke again, shouting somewhat in order to be heard over the continuing storm. "What's wrong with him, did he crash?" Even though he knew his father could not answer the question he had to ask it, he needed some explanation as to what was happening.
"I don't know… there's a lot of blood…" he gulped back the sickeningly feeling of fear which was rising like bile in the back of his throat. Mark turned to face Amanda, "Amanda, go back up to the house and call an ambulance." She nodded at the order and set of at a sprint back to the house leaving father and son alone with Jesse.
Mark turned back to face Jesse still form, frowning deeply, "I need more light! We need to get him up to the house…"
Steve stepped forwards immediately to help but was stopped by Mark's outstretched hand.
"There don't appear to be any injuries to the neck, but we must be careful, we don't know the extent of the damage… we have to work out how best to move him…" Mark squinted up at his son through the rain, a look of uncertainty clouding his normally sparkling blue eyes.
"Dad, I can do it." The conviction in his voice was enough to convince Mark to remove the hand blocking Steve's path and step to one side. He knew how hazardous it was to move someone from the scene of an accident without the proper precautions that an emergency team would have afforded. He watched with relief though as his son deftly slipped one arm underneath Jesse's head and lifted him easily away from the car. It was obvious that his work as a homicide detective and in the volunteer fire service had given him ample opportunity to hone is rescue skills.
Steve carefully manoeuvre himself towards the house, Jesse hanging limply in his arms. It struck him how small Jesse seemed, true he knew that he was somewhat larger than his friend; taller by more than a head and much broader across the shoulders, but at this present moment in time Jesse seemed almost child-like.
Steve continued forwards, his feet sliding slightly in the muddy puddles that had formed on the ground, and he focused his eyes on the door to which he was aiming, screwing up his eyes in concentration, acutely aware that under no circumstances must he allow himself to fall. He reached the steps, his father close behind him, and taking one step at a time began his ascent.
Mark stood behind his son, one hand grasping the railing for support, the other outstretched to the small of his son's back in readiness to steady him if necessary oblivious of the violent burst of thunder which splintered the sky above him.
And finally, they reached the house. Steve sped up slightly and headed directly to the living room where he lay Jesse carefully onto the couch, his head falling to one side. Panting for breath from the exertion Steve rose and stood over the figure of his friend.
"Mark!" Amanda came dashing in from the kitchen, the phone clutched in her hands so tightly her knuckles were white and her voice breathy. "There's no signal – the phones are out…"
This revelation hung for a moment in the air before anyone could respond.
"I'll try my cell phone." Steve strode out of the room to retrieve his phone leaving his father crouching over Jesse.
"Mark, how is he?" Amanda approached Jesse's motionless form, peering over Mark's shoulder to make her own visual assessment.
Mark lifted Jesse's eyelids, one by one, and examined his eyes. "The pupils are equal and reactive, I don't think there's any significant head injury. There's some swelling over the right cheekbone, looks like he took a nasty blow to the face. Probably a mild concussion…"
Moving the focus of his attention to Jesse's blood soaked midriff, Mark gingerly began to undo the buttons of the shirt and slowly peeled back the saturated clothing which clung to his skin. Emitting a gasp Mark froze, staring transfixed at Jesse's abdomen. Behind him Amanda let out a strangled cry. "Ahh… it… um, looks like a knife wound" Mark said, the tremble in his voice betraying his shock and concern and shattering the air of professionalism he had been displaying only seconds earlier. Taking a shaky breath he continued with his examination, assessing the wound and the extent of the injury.
"The abdomen is distended, it…ah, looks like the blade has penetrated the peritoneal cavity. The bleeding is still profuse… I…it's likely there's been some major vascular damage…"
Amanda stood back, watching the scene in front of her, aghast. Her rain soaked hair clung messily to her forehead and she pushed it away, her hand trembling. Stabbed? How could Jesse have been stabbed? He was in his car….
"He's bradycardic, his BP must be plummeting, Amanda?" Mark turned his head sharply. "Get my bag from my study… Now!" The uncharacteristic rise in volume shook Amanda from her reverie and she turned immediately to do as Mark had asked her, passing Steve as she ran.
"Dad," Steve gasped, still slightly out of breath. "There's no reception on the cell phone, the storm must be interfering with the…" He stopped as he caught sight of the bloody mass which was Jesse's stomach.
"Oh my God…"
"AMANDA" Mark shouted, urgent for a response. She came running back into the room, a black leather bag clutched in her hands. She skidded to a halt next to Mark and crouched down to help him as he ripped open the bag.
"We have to stop the bleeding." He began to pull out various pieces of equipment, tearing opening a large sterile dressing and pressing it firmly to the gaping wound. He turned his attention now back to his son.
"Where's the ambulance?" He spoke harshly, in an almost accusatory tone.
"There's… there's no signal on any of the phones. The storm is interfering with the signals… I can't get through…"
A sudden crash shattered the air, Steve whirled around on the spot, seeking out the source of the noise but finding nothing. He looked up to the ceiling as the lights flickered, once, twice, and then died, leaving them all in pitch blackness.
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Hi everyone, just a quick note to say than you all so much for reading and reviewing – it's great to get feedback. I'm glad you like the story!!
Sarah J