Ch. 5 Three Troubles
Amanda
Bentley walked down the hallway towards Steve's room to see how he
was doing. She was concerned about Mark as well, who hadn't left
Steve's side. Just as she was passing the supply closet by Steve's
room, there was a moan of pain from inside. She paused and placed a
hand on the door, pushing it open slowly.
"Hello?"
The only answer was the moan repeated. "Hello? Is someone in
there?" She opened the door the rest of the way. "Are you
h- Oh my God, Mark!" Amanda rushed to her friend's side as he
sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He checked his hand, which was
clean, and then replaced it on his head again.
"Amanda?"
he asked foggily, still getting his mind back in gear. She
immediately turned on the light and knelt beside him, placing a hand
on his shoulder worriedly. "I'm fine, Amanda."
"Mark,
what happened?" She sounded worried and a bit scared. He shook
his head.
"Someone
hit me over the head as I was leaving Steve's room for some coffee."
Amanda saw his eyes move in the direction of his son's room as his
thoughts returned there. He glanced down at his shirt suddenly,
realizing something. "Whoever it was stole my lab coat," he
said, puzzled. Amanda shook her head, unable to imagine why. Mark
seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in, and leaned on her arm
to pull himself up. "I'm going back to Steve's
room."
"Why
don't you go get that coffee?" Amanda objected. "I'll go in
and sit with Steve until you get back." At his doubtful look she
added, "I was on my way there, anyway." He sighed and
nodded his assent.
"Jesse's
in there also." Amanda placed a hand on his arm and gave him a
small smile.
"See.
Go get your coffee. Are you sure your head is okay?" She gave
him a worried look. He nodded, touching it lightly and hiding a
wince.
"I'll
take some aspirin too," he said, and walked away. Amanda turned
back to the door to Steve's room, and opened it. When she stepped
inside, the first thing she saw was Jesse's crumpled form on the
floor.
"Oh
God, Jesse!" She turned and stepped back into the hall. "Mark!"
she called after her friend. "Mark, come back, Jesse's hurt!"
Mark whirled around, eyes wide, heart hammering in his chest. A small
voice in his head told him something was terribly wrong. He almost
ran back to the room. Inside, Amanda was trying to wake an
unconscious Jesse, who was lying by Steve's bed. A white lab coat was
draped over Steve's still form.
//Death
shroud,// Mark thought, and his heart skipped a beat. He sprang to
his son's side and yanked off the coat. Something fell to the floor
and Mark looked down to see a nametag. His nametag and ID. This was
/his/ lab coat! Mark turned from the coat and tag to check on his
son. Something was wrong. It was. //Too quiet,// he realized. The
respirator was off, and so was the heart rate monitor! Mark's eyes
fixed on his son's chest, which was no longer rising and
falling.
"Amanda!"
Amanda's head jerked up at the sound of her name, and the harsh,
frightened tones of Mark's voice. "Amanda, he's not breathing!"
He felt for a pulse. Nothing. As she stood, Mark began CPR, trying to
bring his son back. Amanda pushed the button announcing a code blue
to the nurse's station and moved to take over rescue
breathing.
A
minute later, a nurse rushed in with a defibrillator and Mark
hurriedly hooked it up to his son, turning the monitor back on.
Steve's body, so frail-looking all of a sudden, jerked with the first
jolt. Flat line. Again. Steve's body jerked again. Flat line. Again!
Flatli-no! A beep! His heart started again even as Amanda bent to
plug the respirator back in.
Jesse,
who had woken just as the defibrillator had been wheeled in, was
standing by the door, watching, his eyes dark and haunted. He
breathed an enormous sight of relief as the steady beep of the heart
rate monitor resumed.
"Amanda,"
he said softly. She turned quickly.
"Jesse!
Oh good, are you okay?" She hurried over to him, tilting her
head to look at his eyes, hands on his shoulders. He removed her
hands, shaking his head.
"I'm
fine, Amanda. Just yet another mild concussion. How's Steve?"
Amanda's eyes darted back to where Mark was seated by Steve's
bedside, his son's hand held firmly in his own.
"He
flat lined. Whoever hit you over the head unplugged his respirator.
He...he barely made it," she whispered. Jesse sighed and placed
a hand on the back of his head, wincing.
"He
wasn't doing well to begin with," Jesse admitted, so softly that
Amanda could barely hear him. He didn't want to admit that Steve had
been barely clinging to life. That this might easily have killed him.
Jesse shook himself out of his thoughts with a deep breath. Standing
up, he reached for Amanda's arm. "Come on. Let's go get coffee
or something." He glanced towards Mark and Steve. Amanda
received the unspoken message, and nodded, following him out of the
room.
