1Okay, everyone! Today only: two for the price of one!

Chapter 6

"He's a Rescue Ranger"

I woke up slowly, with my eyes shut. The only sound I could hear was someone's labored breathing somewhere on my left, and quiet whispering somewhere in front of me. For a moment I thought I was back in Ranger headquarters, and we'd just finished our movie marathon. I continued to breath as deeply as I would have had I been asleep. Where had I been last?

"I'm glad to 'ear Dale's doin' fine, but how about me other pallys?" It was Monterey. What had happened to Dale?

"Yes, about them. The young lady should be just fine with a few days of rest and good food. She'll need to not over-exert herself, and she'll probably have a cough. As for, ah, the other young man, he will recover.

"He'll be fine?"

"Well, there may be a few minor complications, but he will be able to function."

What was wrong with Chip and me? Tears of confusion burned under my closed eyes, forcing me to open them. Through my blurred vision, I could see Monterey and a very short, thin mouse standing several inches away.

"Yes, complications," the doctor continued. He voice was whiny and abnoxious. "Perhaps. He may loose his voice, probably will, but if he can be persuaded to keep quiet, he might be able to keep it. He will also be somewhat weaker now. Again, if he keeps quiet and allows himself to rest for quite some time, not excite himself..."

It was then that I remembered. I sat up, whirling my head around to find Chip. And it nearly exploded. "Aah!"

"Gadget-luv, don' do that!" Monterey rushed to my side, easing me back down. The doctor appeared on the other side of my bed.

"You shouldn't be trying to sit up, little missy. Surprised you lived. Don't move any more, okay? I'll go and tell the nurse you're up..." And he left.

Gingerly readjusting myself to my bed, I stared after him and frowned. "He's kind of annoying, isn't he?"

Monty chuckled. "Too right. Doub' 'e knows 'alf uv what 'e's sayin'. The nurse is all righ', though. How're ya feelin'?"

I took a deep breath. "Better. How's everyone else?"

"Oiy, now there's a question."

"I would say so," said someone from the door. Monty turned around.

A trim, neat-looking Japanese nurse was standing in the doorframe. "May I come in, Miss?" she queried.

"Yes," I said, and watched her trot briskly in.

She quickly and efficiently took my pulse, peeked down my throat and in my ears, and took my temperature. "Yes, you'll be just fine," she announced, standing back and looking at me happily.

"But the doctor said-"

She waved her hand. "Ah, do not mind what Dr. Collins says, yes? He is a little silly. You will be just fine."

"What about everyone else? What about Chip?"

She smiled and nodded over to my left. I turned a bit, looking over and finding the source of the heavy breathing. Chip was lying under a thick white blanket looking more or less simply tired, except for the breathing mask and oxygen attached to him.

"Don't worry about the mask, dear."

"But he was coughing..."

"I know. His throat is very sore from the smoke and blood. We had to pump a little water out of his lungs." She twisted her hand in the pocket of her smock. "Dr. Collins was right about one thing, though. We were both very surprised that he lived through the ordeal. Mr. Dale told us that before you passed out you told the mice on the raft to get him dry and keep him warm. It was probably the best thing you could have said."

I frowned at her. Wasn't that just common sense?

"You see, the mice were all in shock. Not all of them are as seasoned as you in the art of survival. And when people are in shock, they don't think properly. You reminded them to."

Monterey nodded and took my hand. "Dale got 'em all worked out fine. Chip would've been proud. 'E 'ad all the gals take you to one side of the raft, all the guys and Chipper on 't other, and 'ad 'em warm yeh up an' get yeh dry. Two mice to an oar, change every ten minutes."

I blinked. "That's not like Dale."

"I think seein' his bes' mate in trouble brought out the leader in 'im. He got me woke up before the pain in 'is arm got too bad 'an 'e passed out."

"But he's all right now?"

"Yes. And Chip will be too. Just keep him quiet, like the doctor said. I won't say he'll be running off to rescue anybody from assassins anytime soon," she grinned and winked at me, "but I do think that within' two weeks he'll have a healthy appetite and you'll have to tie him to his bed."

I smiled back. "He's a Rescue Ranger."

She nodded. "Yes. You must know how much that means to everyone, Gadget," she addressed me by name. "You are trusted and respected very highly. And now, I will leave you to rest. Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks."

She nodded, bowed slightly from the waist, and left the room.

Monterey reached up and removed his hat, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "It was a righ' bad night, weren't it?"

I nodded. "What happened after Dale passed out? Where are we?"

"We got picked up by the Portland abou' an hour later. Tha's where we are now. Dale 'an Marskov 'an Jules 'an ever-one else is all bunkin' with the Portland's passengers."

"Where are we going?"

"Back tuh Vladivostok. We're gonna dock in 'round an hour."

"We weren't that far out, Monty."

"No, luv, but the Portland circled for survivors three times afore we got underway. Makin' sure she got 'em all, yuh know?"

"What are we going to do with Chip when we land?"

"We're gonna wait in the local 'ospital fer a couple days afore we all fly back home together. Miss Sophia's asked us all to stay in her guest house. Give Chipper a chance to rest up." He looked furtively at the sleeping chipmunk under the oxygen mask. He seemed to want to say something, but couldn't find the words.

I knew how he felt. There was something inside my chest squirming around anxiously, making all of my innards contract and twist. Despite my not-so-great track record, I knew I wanted to talk to someone about what had happened. Not just anyone; someone who had watched it happen. Had it happen to them, too.

It was unusual for me, but this time, I could feel the hot acid build-up of toxic, corroding emotions already beginning. I knew if I didn't get this off my chest, I wouldn't be able to function normally again. And I didn't want to be alone again. I didn't want to become a recluse. I didn't want to become depressed. I didn't want to become...the way I was... after dad died.

Monterey didn't know about the assassin yet, and I felt it would be cruel to tell him. The assassin wasn't after Sophia. She was the decoy. I was the target. It was one of those blinding revelations that hits after the fact. When the assassin had said he was going to kill me, take my goggles back to his brother as proof, I had moved past the horror and straight to action. But now I was scared, even though the assassin was dead. I had killed him. I had killed him, I had killed...

I gagged. If I had eaten anything more recently than 30 hours ago, I would have thrown up. Lucky for me, I hadn't. Monterey swooped down on me, wrapping me in his enormous arms and holding me tightly.

"It's all right, luv. It was a terrible nigh', but it's over now. It's over."

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Monterey left fifteen minutes later, after I had convinced him that I wasn't going to die in his absence. I hoped. It felt like I might.

With Monty gone, I realized that I could hear more than Chip's wheezing breath. There was a heart monitor hooked up to him, beeping ominously. I hate heart monitors. They beep slowly, consistently, but at any moment they could buzz flat, and you know it's over. It's not a nice thing, being in a room listening to a heart monitor tick away at your friend's life.

I pulled the blanket around me got off the bed carefully. I remembered the pain that had kicked me in the back when I had sat up, so I moved slowly and deliberately, reining in the pain that was still drifting inside of me, oblivious to the anesthetics.

"Chip?" I whispered. I stood over his bed, looking at him. I didn't really want to look at him, lying there with a mask and bunch of monitors and wires attached to him, but I did it anyway. Because he was the only one. The only one who had been in the water, been hurt by the assassin, been alone during our rescue, been in the sinking part of the ship. He was the only one. And I wanted to talk to him.

"Chip, I know you can't hear me... I'm scared." I needed someone to talk to, and I needed them now, or I'd lose the nerve to do it at all. One more bruise, one more scar, one more tear...did it really matter? He couldn't talk now. He wouldn't talk for weeks. He couldn't hear me now. He wouldn't hear for hours, days, who could tell? The point was he was my lifeline, and he had sunk.