Chapter XXII

The Cavalry Arrives

Sara ran in and fell to her knees beside Warrick. She ripped the mask off of his face. His eyes were closed, his mahogany skin was ashen gray. "Oh God, Warrick, don't you dare do this to me!" Training that she hadn't tapped into for years suddenly took over, and she began to move with an automatic grace. She tilted his head to the side, alarmed at the vomit that trickled from his mouth. When the airway was clear, she tilted his head back and began the chest-compressions that she prayed would save the man.

She could hear Catherine in the background, calling for an ambulance, but it was faint, like a radio that was out of tune. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she noted that Sofia ran after McQueen. Her main focus...her only focus though, was Warrick...and saving his life.

She bent down and gave her first round of mouth to mouth. Warrick's lips were cold. A bead of sweat fell off of Sara's forehead. "Come on Warrick! Don't let this bastard win!" She kept pumping his chest, breathing air into his starved lungs...She would not give up on him.


Sara could feel panic eating her alive as she worked Warrick's lungs with her fists. "DAMN IT WARRICK!" She bent down to push air into his lungs again. He'd been down for five minutes already. Her mind tortured her with statistics... A body could only survive three minutes without air...A person's heart could only stop beating for so long without sustaining damage...the brain, when starved of oxygen began to die. She heard her voice crack when she screamed. "COME ON!"

She could feel her composure slipping. Then the most beautiful sound in the world came. Warrick coughed. She looked down at him. "That's right, big breathes. There you go." She kept one of her hands on his chest, to make sure he didn't try to sit up and the other hand found his wrist and took his pulse. "You're okay now, Warrick, you're okay."


Catherine fell to her knees beside them and took one of Warrick's hands. She ran her fingers through his dark hair with the other, she was openly sobbing. Warrick gripped her hand. "Cath..." His voice was full of gravel and blood dribbled down the side of his mouth. Catherine wiped the blood away, "Shhh, don't talk, the EMTs are on their way, you just rest...It's gonna be okay...you're going to be okay."
After that, everything came in an adrenaline crash blur. The EMTs arrived and loaded Warrick into the ambulance.

As they were stabilizing him...Sara was talking rapidly to them in some foreign medical jargoned tongue...Sofia watched them load McQueen into the car. Catherine came beside her. "Which one of you is Unit 45?" A pan-faced over muscled grunt turned. "That's me."

Catherine moved like a cobra, her manicured hand snapping out and grabbing the man's shirt. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE! WHAT YOU'RE TOO BIG AND BAD TO DO YOUR DAMN JOB! YOU HAD ONE THING TO DO. ONE! PROTECT HIM! THAT'S SO FUCKING SIMPLE A MONKEY WITH A GUN COULD HAVE DONE IT! WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?" She glared him down, her blue eyes alive with fire and brimstone...two icy pits of hell...and their full fury was pointed at the uniformed officer. Now Catherine's voice was low and deadly, she was done screaming. "When I get done with you, mall security won't have you...you won't even be able to be a crossing guard. You. Will. Never. Work. In. This. Town. Again." She punctuated each word with a sharp jab of her finger into his chest.

Catherineglared at him, the man was twice her size, but his face was paling. "He could have died because you didn't do your job." She pushed him back, he hit the metal of his car. Catherine gave him one last glare and turned on her heel and jumped into the ambulance rig. Her hand touched Sara's shoulder as the brunette exited. Sofia looked back at the uniform. "You deserve every bit of hell she raises..." She looked at his name tag, "Murphy...and don't think she's the only one who's going to be talking to the Sheriff." She watched him flinch and turned. "Get that piece of shit out of here...and the perp too."


The marked cars and ambulance left with blaring sirens and flashing lights. Sara and Sofia watched them leave. Standing in the doorway of the little shack of horrors, leaning on each other...Sofia put her arm around Sara and the emotionally drained woman leaned against her, grateful for the other woman's reassuring presence.

Sara could still see him when she closed her eyes... cold, gray skin...lifeless eyes...he'd been moments away from death...Seconds away from being on Doc's table. Without warning her stomach lurched and she stumbled away from Sofia...Leaning against the rusty tin of the shack, Sara vomited up bile and coffee and dry-heaved until her stomach ached.

A part of her was ashamed... and a part of her was grateful...because standing behind her, holding her hair backand rubbing calming circles on her back was Sofia... Sofia was real...she was there and that was all that Sara needed for the moment...

When she was done, her stomach calmed. She straitened up and sheepishly wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "Sorry." Sofia shook her head. "Don't worry about it...c'mon, we need to get to the hospital."

Author's Note: HE LIVES! Hey, look Ma, Catherine anger that's not pointed at Sara...for once. Actually this chapter and the last one were originally one large piece...but I broke it into two...more fun that way.