Dr. Perkins was not expecting to see his boss come flying out of the
stairwell like a 747 coming in for a landing. People had said that the
woman could move, but he had no idea what they were really talking about
until she tore into the E.R., heading towards Trauma 2 and the source of
the commotion.
Jhondie slammed the door open, leaping right into the chaos in progress. For a second she froze, horrified at the sight in front of her. Cole. Unconscious on the table. Had to be multiple gunshot wounds. Heather half on the table beside him, nearly in hysterics. Blood. Oh God, blood was everywhere. But as much as her emotional side was sickened, unable to do anything, training had already kicked in and she was moving, barking orders and getting ready for a major fight.
"Heather, move!" she yelled and then began a flow of medical jargon to the other doctors and nurses in the room, demanding drugs, equipment and tests. For a second they hesitated, not sure exactly what was going on.
"I said STAT!" Jhondie snarled and then all of a sudden there was a blur of action and movement as the team came together and followed their chief's lead.
Heather realized she was against a wall, unable to move as the team surrounded Cole. It was like some complex dance that Jhondie was orchestrating but with wires and tubes and everything was in a foreign language. She had no idea what Jhondie was calling for or what good it would do, but she just prayed that her aunt would know the right things needed to save his life.
A light touch on her uninjured arm. Heather looked up sharply into a rather kindly Hispanic face. "I'm Dr. Ramirez," he said gently. "Let's go into the next room and take care of you, shall we?"
Heather shook her head, regretting the action almost instantly. "No," she whispered, her head swimming. "I'll be fine. Help him."
Ramirez's voice lowered. "Your aunt asked me to take care of you," he said very softly, like he was trying to coax a frightened puppy. Heather's eyes widened at this admission and with a desperate look back at the frantic activity surrounding Cole, allowed herself to be taken into the next room. The door swung shut behind them, but there was still a window that she could see through and she could still hear everything that was going on in there. It didn't matter that she didn't understand the procedures being called for. As long as they were working then he was alive.
"Tell Jhondie that Daniel's in New York," Heather said desperately as she was put up onto the table, her eyes huge and pleading. "Tell her now." Ramirez nodded to the nurse and she scampered back into the other room quickly.
"Your brother?" the doctor asked, not losing his friendly tone as he began slicing away the blood soaked material on her right side.
"How do you..." Heather tried to ask, biting off her words at the sharp pain even his gentle touch was causing. Her breath came in jagged little gasps as he pulled the material away, exposing where she had been shot, the wound close to where the shoulder met the neck.
"I've known Jhondie since we were interns," he replied now that they were alone. "Saw the barcode about ten years ago or so. Right before your brother's article came out, she decided that she'd rather go ahead and tell me herself. Explained a lot. And there I was feeling bad over the years when I had to quit the OR after about fifteen hours straight and she was still going strong." Heather didn't answer. She simply kept looking through the window, praying for a miracle.
In the other trauma room, Jhondie had a nurse holding a phone up to her ear as her hands worked frantically. Justin's phone rang twice and then he picked up. "Hey," he greeted warmly. Any call that didn't go through at least three secretaries and was personally announced by his administrative assistant had to be family.
"Justin," Jhondie said sharply. "I need Daniel at the E.R. right now. Heather and Cole are in here and we need blood."
"Christ," Justin half-whispered. The phone was pulled away from his mouth as she heard him bark out an order to someone that Dan Guevara was to be on the roof in two minutes and have the magazine helicopter ready. Their pilot was a pro who had managed to break more FAA rules in a day then most pilots did in a lifetime. Getting Daniel around the New York traffic wasn't going to be a problem. Justin came back to the phone. "Are they?" he asked, not sure how to finish the sentence.
"Heather, yes, Cole...I don't know," Jhondie admitted. "I think Xander and Lon are on the east coast," she added. "Have Daniel call them. We're going to need all of the blood donors that we can get." She nodded to the nurse who hung up the phone and then Jhondie was back to work with a vengeance. This was bad. God, this was bad. Why he wasn't dead already was a miracle in and of itself.
Jhondie had been so careful since the article had come out. She had reduced using her enhanced abilities and even cut back on the number of hours that she worked so that people wouldn't notice that she seemed to be there sometimes for forty-eight hours straight, just like that one transgenic in the article that didn't need to sleep. She didn't want to have to deal with what would happen to her career if it was found out that she was one of those "transgenic freaks" as one of the board members had referred to the Manticore offspring. A flash of New York from years ago and Cole's smart-ass smirk as he gave the all clear. "I just never told you the rules." That was what he had said then at her amazement before crushing out a cigarette and walking away. She wondered if he ever thought she would be able to pay him back.
Oh well. Here goes the career, she thought. "Ladies and gentlemen," Jhondie announced firmly. Even though there wasn't a break in the frantic activity in the room, they all seemed to pause and listen. Jhondie took a deep breath. "We are dealing with a transgenic human being. Use the blood reclamation unit to catch whatever he loses. Blood donors are on the way."
The oxygen level in the room must have dropped with the sudden gasp from every person present. As they started to turn Cole onto his side so that one part of the team could work on the entrance wounds while the other worked on the exits, the barcode on his neck was quite visible and everyone had to get a peek at it. Sure, all of them had seen something about that Manticore place on TV and most had read Dan Guevara's article in "The Truth". For weeks after the article came out it was impossible to watch the evening news without some Manticore-related scandal coming out. They all knew about it, yes, but none of them had ever expected to treat one of the transgenics. And as soon as the frenzy of activity slowed, the next big question was going to be centered on how and why Dr. Carter was so familiar with them.
In the other room, Heather was desperately trying to stay conscious so she would know what was happening. She could barely feel the needles they were sticking into her and even her shoulder seemed to fade into a hot sizzle. None of it could touch the sheer agony of knowing without a doubt that this was all her fault. Oh God, how could she be so stupid? She should be the one lying on the other table, not Cole. It was all her fault and she knew it. She had encouraged him. Thought it was kind of funny in a way. And now he was dying and she was going to watch it happen. Please God, she prayed silently. Please don't let him pay for my mistake. Please make him stop bleeding. Please...
A nurse bustled in from the other trauma room. "Can you take regular blood?" she asked Heather sharply, peering at her like she was examining for horns...or maybe just fur and whiskers.
"No," she whispered, not caring who knew what anymore. Her eyes were locked onto what was happening on the other side of the window. "I'll be fine," she sniffed. "I heal." A sob escaped her. They were all over Cole now, Jhondie orchestrating the whole thing with so much confidence that Heather could believe her aunt knew some mystical way that would bring Cole back from certain death. The nurse gave her a nod and then bustled back into the other room.
"I need you to lie back now," Dr. Ramirez said to Heather. "We're going to get you up to surgery in a few minutes." He was more concerned about her mental state then getting her into surgery. She was seriously injured, yes, but it wasn't life threateningly critical. What was more critical was getting her away from Trauma 2. If the man she was brought in with didn't make it, then Ramirez was worried that the display they saw earlier would be nothing in comparison to what the young woman would do then.
"I'm not going until he does," Heather replied flatly, oblivious to the tears pouring down her face. She was so focused on the other side of the window that she didn't see a nurse sliding a needle into her IV.
"He's got the best trauma surgeon on the East Coast taking care of him," another nurse said soothingly. She was wildly curious about this transgenic in Trauma 2 and the young woman's connection to him, but she was too well trained to start asking questions now. Maybe later. "Dr. Carter can make miracles happen." The nurse's sweet smile was meant to be reassuring, but Heather could only see it as false hope. She had seen what happened to Cole. She wasn't a doctor, but a life-threatening injury was rather obvious.
Things started to go gray a little and Heather realized she had been drugged. "No," she whispered thinly, trying to fight the effects. A nurse went to make her lie back, but Dr. Ramirez stopper her. This young lady was not going to be forced into anything. Heather was determined to stay awake and see this thing through despite the fact that the room was moving around now. Not yet. She wasn't going to go until she knew that he was going to be okay.
A nurse came flying onto the room to get a monitor and for Heather the world seemed to freeze. A single high-pitched tone filled the room, her head, the whole world.
Flat line.
"NO!" Heather screamed, jerking towards the open door. Someone grabbed her as she collapsed into merciful darkness.
Jhondie slammed the door open, leaping right into the chaos in progress. For a second she froze, horrified at the sight in front of her. Cole. Unconscious on the table. Had to be multiple gunshot wounds. Heather half on the table beside him, nearly in hysterics. Blood. Oh God, blood was everywhere. But as much as her emotional side was sickened, unable to do anything, training had already kicked in and she was moving, barking orders and getting ready for a major fight.
"Heather, move!" she yelled and then began a flow of medical jargon to the other doctors and nurses in the room, demanding drugs, equipment and tests. For a second they hesitated, not sure exactly what was going on.
"I said STAT!" Jhondie snarled and then all of a sudden there was a blur of action and movement as the team came together and followed their chief's lead.
Heather realized she was against a wall, unable to move as the team surrounded Cole. It was like some complex dance that Jhondie was orchestrating but with wires and tubes and everything was in a foreign language. She had no idea what Jhondie was calling for or what good it would do, but she just prayed that her aunt would know the right things needed to save his life.
A light touch on her uninjured arm. Heather looked up sharply into a rather kindly Hispanic face. "I'm Dr. Ramirez," he said gently. "Let's go into the next room and take care of you, shall we?"
Heather shook her head, regretting the action almost instantly. "No," she whispered, her head swimming. "I'll be fine. Help him."
Ramirez's voice lowered. "Your aunt asked me to take care of you," he said very softly, like he was trying to coax a frightened puppy. Heather's eyes widened at this admission and with a desperate look back at the frantic activity surrounding Cole, allowed herself to be taken into the next room. The door swung shut behind them, but there was still a window that she could see through and she could still hear everything that was going on in there. It didn't matter that she didn't understand the procedures being called for. As long as they were working then he was alive.
"Tell Jhondie that Daniel's in New York," Heather said desperately as she was put up onto the table, her eyes huge and pleading. "Tell her now." Ramirez nodded to the nurse and she scampered back into the other room quickly.
"Your brother?" the doctor asked, not losing his friendly tone as he began slicing away the blood soaked material on her right side.
"How do you..." Heather tried to ask, biting off her words at the sharp pain even his gentle touch was causing. Her breath came in jagged little gasps as he pulled the material away, exposing where she had been shot, the wound close to where the shoulder met the neck.
"I've known Jhondie since we were interns," he replied now that they were alone. "Saw the barcode about ten years ago or so. Right before your brother's article came out, she decided that she'd rather go ahead and tell me herself. Explained a lot. And there I was feeling bad over the years when I had to quit the OR after about fifteen hours straight and she was still going strong." Heather didn't answer. She simply kept looking through the window, praying for a miracle.
In the other trauma room, Jhondie had a nurse holding a phone up to her ear as her hands worked frantically. Justin's phone rang twice and then he picked up. "Hey," he greeted warmly. Any call that didn't go through at least three secretaries and was personally announced by his administrative assistant had to be family.
"Justin," Jhondie said sharply. "I need Daniel at the E.R. right now. Heather and Cole are in here and we need blood."
"Christ," Justin half-whispered. The phone was pulled away from his mouth as she heard him bark out an order to someone that Dan Guevara was to be on the roof in two minutes and have the magazine helicopter ready. Their pilot was a pro who had managed to break more FAA rules in a day then most pilots did in a lifetime. Getting Daniel around the New York traffic wasn't going to be a problem. Justin came back to the phone. "Are they?" he asked, not sure how to finish the sentence.
"Heather, yes, Cole...I don't know," Jhondie admitted. "I think Xander and Lon are on the east coast," she added. "Have Daniel call them. We're going to need all of the blood donors that we can get." She nodded to the nurse who hung up the phone and then Jhondie was back to work with a vengeance. This was bad. God, this was bad. Why he wasn't dead already was a miracle in and of itself.
Jhondie had been so careful since the article had come out. She had reduced using her enhanced abilities and even cut back on the number of hours that she worked so that people wouldn't notice that she seemed to be there sometimes for forty-eight hours straight, just like that one transgenic in the article that didn't need to sleep. She didn't want to have to deal with what would happen to her career if it was found out that she was one of those "transgenic freaks" as one of the board members had referred to the Manticore offspring. A flash of New York from years ago and Cole's smart-ass smirk as he gave the all clear. "I just never told you the rules." That was what he had said then at her amazement before crushing out a cigarette and walking away. She wondered if he ever thought she would be able to pay him back.
Oh well. Here goes the career, she thought. "Ladies and gentlemen," Jhondie announced firmly. Even though there wasn't a break in the frantic activity in the room, they all seemed to pause and listen. Jhondie took a deep breath. "We are dealing with a transgenic human being. Use the blood reclamation unit to catch whatever he loses. Blood donors are on the way."
The oxygen level in the room must have dropped with the sudden gasp from every person present. As they started to turn Cole onto his side so that one part of the team could work on the entrance wounds while the other worked on the exits, the barcode on his neck was quite visible and everyone had to get a peek at it. Sure, all of them had seen something about that Manticore place on TV and most had read Dan Guevara's article in "The Truth". For weeks after the article came out it was impossible to watch the evening news without some Manticore-related scandal coming out. They all knew about it, yes, but none of them had ever expected to treat one of the transgenics. And as soon as the frenzy of activity slowed, the next big question was going to be centered on how and why Dr. Carter was so familiar with them.
In the other room, Heather was desperately trying to stay conscious so she would know what was happening. She could barely feel the needles they were sticking into her and even her shoulder seemed to fade into a hot sizzle. None of it could touch the sheer agony of knowing without a doubt that this was all her fault. Oh God, how could she be so stupid? She should be the one lying on the other table, not Cole. It was all her fault and she knew it. She had encouraged him. Thought it was kind of funny in a way. And now he was dying and she was going to watch it happen. Please God, she prayed silently. Please don't let him pay for my mistake. Please make him stop bleeding. Please...
A nurse bustled in from the other trauma room. "Can you take regular blood?" she asked Heather sharply, peering at her like she was examining for horns...or maybe just fur and whiskers.
"No," she whispered, not caring who knew what anymore. Her eyes were locked onto what was happening on the other side of the window. "I'll be fine," she sniffed. "I heal." A sob escaped her. They were all over Cole now, Jhondie orchestrating the whole thing with so much confidence that Heather could believe her aunt knew some mystical way that would bring Cole back from certain death. The nurse gave her a nod and then bustled back into the other room.
"I need you to lie back now," Dr. Ramirez said to Heather. "We're going to get you up to surgery in a few minutes." He was more concerned about her mental state then getting her into surgery. She was seriously injured, yes, but it wasn't life threateningly critical. What was more critical was getting her away from Trauma 2. If the man she was brought in with didn't make it, then Ramirez was worried that the display they saw earlier would be nothing in comparison to what the young woman would do then.
"I'm not going until he does," Heather replied flatly, oblivious to the tears pouring down her face. She was so focused on the other side of the window that she didn't see a nurse sliding a needle into her IV.
"He's got the best trauma surgeon on the East Coast taking care of him," another nurse said soothingly. She was wildly curious about this transgenic in Trauma 2 and the young woman's connection to him, but she was too well trained to start asking questions now. Maybe later. "Dr. Carter can make miracles happen." The nurse's sweet smile was meant to be reassuring, but Heather could only see it as false hope. She had seen what happened to Cole. She wasn't a doctor, but a life-threatening injury was rather obvious.
Things started to go gray a little and Heather realized she had been drugged. "No," she whispered thinly, trying to fight the effects. A nurse went to make her lie back, but Dr. Ramirez stopper her. This young lady was not going to be forced into anything. Heather was determined to stay awake and see this thing through despite the fact that the room was moving around now. Not yet. She wasn't going to go until she knew that he was going to be okay.
A nurse came flying onto the room to get a monitor and for Heather the world seemed to freeze. A single high-pitched tone filled the room, her head, the whole world.
Flat line.
"NO!" Heather screamed, jerking towards the open door. Someone grabbed her as she collapsed into merciful darkness.