Chapter 2: Memories
Bobby sat in one of the waiting room chairs. The hospital had always been one of his least favorite places to be, and now it was worse. It had been almost an hour, and there was still no word. Once again, his thoughts returned to the events that had brought them here. It replayed in his mind like a bad movie.
He was waiting in line at the bank because the ATM machine outside was broken and he needed money for lunch. Jack stood over by the wall, waiting for him like any best friend would. Or at least how any of Bobby's best friends would. Bobby had noticed several times that the man, who was at the counter now, was fidgeting, like he was the keeper of a secret, expecting something bad to happen. Just as the clerk opened the cash drawer, he recognized the man. It was Jameson Trent, one of Gary Leynnier's top men. They hadn't caught him when they had busted his buddies. Before Bobby could do anything Jameson pulled a gun out of his pocket.
"Gimme the cash!" he demanded, "and if you trip the alarm you'll be dead."
Both Bobby and Jack went into action at the same time. Pulling their guns, they started for Jameson as the clerk set off the alarm, ducking behind the counter. While Bobby's advance had been hidden by the people in line. Jack's had not. Thus, inevitably, Jameson noticed Jack first. The crowd had parted as he swung his gun towards Jack. What happened next had seemed to go in slow motion.
Bobby watched as Jameson shot a split second before he himself shot his own weapon. The shots echoed around the cold marble chamber like the tolling of a death bell. Jameson went down and Bobby turned to discover that Jack was also on the ground. The security guards rushed over to him at the same time that Bobby ran to Jack. Jameson was a good shot. Jack wasn't dead, but the bullet was too close to the heart for comfort. Bobby had immediately whipped off his jacket and tried to stop the flow of blood, but it was to no avail.
He had called Lucy, but now he didn't remember what was said; only that he was hardly able to force the words out. By the time the ambulance reached the scene, Jack's blood had soaked through his jacket, and his hands were now covered in it. He hardly remembered answering the paramedics' questions as they loaded Jack into the ambulance. He remembered the drive to the hospital only a little more. When they had arrived at the hospital, the entire team was already there, waiting. The one thing that he remembered clearly was the looks on the others faces as he had entered.
Bobby looked into Sue's eyes for a minute, feeling his heart being ripped to shreds by the pain and fear in her eyes. He then watched as her eyes had traveled down to his bloodstained hands, and a song had popped into his mind. He didn't know where it came from, only that the lyrics were strangely similar to this situation.
"How came this blood on your right hand?
Brother, tell me, tell me.
Is it the blood of and old grey wolf,
That lurked behind a tree.
No wolf would prowl at this hour of the day,
Brother, tell me, tell me.
It is the blood of my own brothers twain
Who sat at the drink with me."
Bobby had been unable to say anything, only stare at his bloody hands. It was something he would remember for ages to come. Finally Myles and Dimitrius had forced him into the bathroom and washed his hands off.
Even though the blood was gone, he knew that he'd never forget the image that it had left behind.
A/N: The song/text is from Exile's Song, by Marion Zimmer Bradley: The Ballad of the Outlaw