Authors Note
Long wait, I know. Oops. Guess what I get to write? A five page (or more) speech on why drilling in Alaska is a good thing and I get to present in front of my whole school. We're having this drilling debate in school and I'm on the 'for drilling' side. It was so much fun today because we didn't have to go to classes; we got to run around school hanging up posters all day. Go people on the 'for drilling' debate team! As usual, I'm putting off doing my work and writing instead. My speech should turn out interesting though… Well here it is anyway, hope you like it. Oh and in the last chapter, Brian and Adam are the same person, I kind of switched names… whoops. His name is going to be Adam though since I have a friend named Brian and I can't name and evil character Brian. Review. –Steph
Thanks to Gracie for writing the newspaper article that appears later in this chapter! It's really good. It's the italicized part so you'll see it. THANKS GRACIE! maybe we'll actually be online at the same time sometime…
Disclaimer: based loosely off of the Heartland series created and owned by Lauren Brooke.
§ The Peak §
Chapter 11
"Ac-accident?" Jane repeated the officer fearfully. "What do you mean 'accident'?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Officer Riviera said again.
"Tell us what happened," Isabella requested frantically. "What happened to our sons?"
"If you would please sit down," Officer Block gestured back to the empty seats. Jane and Isabella sat down listlessly, followed by a somewhat reluctant Harold and Brad. Lee and Alicia remained by their respective mothers side.
"We received a call about two hours ago," Officer Riviera began, "From a woman claiming that she had heard noises from Dead Mans Curve…"
"Oh no," Jane gasped and a hand flew to cover her mouth.
"Squad cars and officers were sent to investigate. We found a Mr. Mick Laurence unconscious next to his car a little ways from the start of the road. Mr. Tyler Baldwin was found farther down the road, closer to the Blue Horse Mountains."
"What happened to them?" Isabella asked the officers while trying to sooth her shivering daughter.
"Emergency helicopters arrived on the scene moments later. Tyler and Mick are at the Mayo Clinic Hospital and are receiving emergency care as we speak," Officer Block told them.
"What happened to them?" Brad asked stonily, his hand grinding his crystal wineglass into the expensive silk tablecloth.
"I'm afraid that I'm not authorized to release that information at this time. Please understand," Officer Riviera looked expectantly at the pained expressions the mothers wore, "If I had any information on their condition whatsoever I would tell you but, at this time I do not. I can tell you, however, that both boys are most likely in critical condition. We will escort you to the hospital if you would like."
Jane's face dropped into her hands as she tried to compose herself.
"Mr. Laurence," Officer Riviera addressed Harold. Harold looked up at the officer expectantly. "You can pick up your sons car at the station later," Harold nodded in confirmation and rested a hand on tenderly Isabella's shoulder. "Mr. Baldwin," Officer Riviera addressed Brad now. The officer pulled something out of his navy uniform pants and the silver of the object glinted in his hands. "I'm sorry," the officer said regretfully as he handed Brad the keys to his once glamorous Aston Martin, "But this is all we managed to salvage from Tyler's car."
"I'm going to kill that boy," Brad growled as he juggled the key in his hand.
"Insurance will most likely cover the cost of the damage to the car," Officer Block put in helpfully, thinking that Brad was upset about the car being ruined.
"I'm not worried about the car," Brad answered in reply. "The car is the least of my worries," Brad paused momentarily. "Tell me, who else did you find with my son?" he asked in interest. He'd like to know who the people getting his son into trouble were. Being a successful lawyer had its perks.
"Only Tyler and Mick were found," Officer Block answered with a furrowed brow. "There were other tire marks found near Tyler's car but no one else was there."
Brad nodded his head thoughtfully as he watched the dim light hanging overhead glint off of the keys.
"Can we go to the hospital?" Alicia asked in a soft voice. Underneath her tan her face was pale. "Please?" she begged silently.
"Please, just tell me that my son is okay," Jane begged desperately with the officers again.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Officer Riviera said with a small shake of his head. "I am not authorized to release that information at this time."
"Damn it!" Brad said loudly as he stood up and looked down at the officers from his towering height. "Do not tell me you are not authorized! For God's sake, this is my son! Tell me what happened to him!" more people were starring at them now.
"Sir," Officer Block addressed the raging man carefully. "If you wish to know anything then I suggest you go to the hospital, the doctors there will tell you everything," he suggested calmly.
"There is one other issue that needs to be discussed at this time," Officer Riviera jumped in hastily. "I understand that both Tyler and Mick got into a bit of trouble two years back, something about street racing. Given the fact that they were participating in an illegal activity and driving as minors the incident was put on their records. Though, both boys are now considered to be legal drivers this incident will not be forgotten. The fact of the matter is that they were trespassing on engaging in activities that are prohibited by the State of Arizona. Both Mick and Tyler have two strikes against them for the same thing. There will of course be fines to pay. Everything can be sorted out at the station later."
Jane picked her head out of her hands and starred at the two officers levelly. "I want to see my son."
Officer Riviera nodded his head. "Very well, if you'll just come with me."
Brad, Jane, Lee, Harold, Isabella and Alicia followed Officer Riviera and Officer Block out of the restaurant. None of them acknowledged he exceedingly interest looks that were tossed in their direction. None, however, were more interested then the wedding party that sat at the back. The tall girl with long, straight light brown hair and gray eyes watched the scene in horror.
Each family got into their respective car and followed the police cruiser on the short, ten minute drive to the Mayo Clinic Hospital.
The Baldwin's and the Laurence's rushed through the sliding glass doors to the Emergency Room. Officer Riviera and Officer Block parted with them at the doors and got back into the cruiser, off to answer another call.
The room was large and clean. Chairs lined the walls and the walls were off-white with a desert themed border. Against the far wall there was a large, long mahogany desk. On the other side of the room there were swinging double doors.
The few people waiting in the Emergency Room looked up questioningly as the group passed. They looked quite out of place in the bleak hospital room. The women wore expensive dresses and heels, the men wore perfectly tailored, expensive suits with silk ties and the two children were casually dressed. For once, neither the Baldwin's nor the Laurence's paid any heed to the people watching them. In their live, there was just one thing more important then appearance and what people thought of them. Family.
"I'm here for my son, Tyler Baldwin," Jane gasped as she came to halt in front of the desk. She set her hands on the top of the wooden surface.
"Yes, and Mick Laurence too," Isabella was right behind Jane.
The receptionist sitting behind the desk looked up from the paperwork she had been filling out slowly. Her brown hair fell in a short bob around her round face and she wore hospital scrubs with sea green pants and a baggy shirt with Disney characters on it. "Can I help you?" she asked politely.
Harold quickly stepped forwards and spoke in a clear, demanding voice. "Mick Laurence and Tyler Baldwin," he said simply.
"Of course, let me just check the computers," the woman looked back at her computer and tapped the two names into it. She paused a moment and then looked back up. "If you would care to take a seat," she motioned to the stiff, cushioned chairs surrounding them, "A doctor will see you shortly."
"Excuse me, ma'am," Brad cut in using his lawyer voice. The, I'm-not-taking-any-shit-so-you-had-better-tell-me-what-I-want-to-know one. "We'd like to know about our sons' conditions."
"I'm sorry, sir," the woman said carefully. "But I cannot issue that information at this moment. A doctor will be with you shortly and he will tell you everything you want to know."
"You don't seem to understand me," Brad said hardly. "This is my son and his best friend. I would like to know his current condition," he repeated.
"I'm sorry, sir," the woman repeated a bit more firmly then the last time. "A doctor will see you in a moment…"
"I will not wait a 'moment'!" Brad exclaimed. "I want to know what happened to my son and I want to know it NOW!" Brad banged his fist down on the desk top so hard that the woman behind the desk jumped slightly in surprise.
"Sir, I'm going to ask that you control yourself. I am doing all that I can here, you will just have to wait until the doctor gets here."
"If you don't get that doctor down here right now, so help me I'll…"
Just then, Brad was cut off of his rant as the door swung opened and banged closed again. A young doctor in a white lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck quickly surveyed the room before heading in the direction of the Baldwin's and the Laurence's. "Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin? Mr. and Mrs. Laurence?" he asked politely in his dead voice as he stopped and stood in front of them.
"Yes," Harold affirmed. "Are you going to tell us what happened to our sons?"
"That I will," the young doctor nodded his head in affirmation. "Would you care to follow me to my office so we can speak in privacy?"
The doctor led them out of the waiting room and took them down starch white hallways until he ushered them through a white door. They entered a smaller room that had the same off-white walls with the desert themed bordering. There was a desk in the center of the room the contained a black, Dell, flat screen computer, various files, a phone and other office supplies. There was leather, office chair of rich brown leather sitting behind the desk. The walls were lined with all of the doctor's medical degrees.
"Please, sit down," the doctor gestured to the four chairs that sat in front of his desk. He sat down behind his desk and the adults took the seats in front of the desk and Lee and Alicia stood behind them. "First, let me introduce myself, I am Dr. Ryder."
"I'm Brad Baldwin and this is my wife, Jane and my son, Lee."
"I am Harold Laurence and my wife, Isabella and my daughter, Alicia."
Once all the introductions had been made, Dr. Ryder turned back to the issue on hand. "I trust you're anxious to learn of your sons conditions…?"
"Yes, please, just tell us that they're okay," Jane begged quietly.
Dr. Ryder did not respond to Jane's plea but a pained look passed briefly across his handsome features. She shifted two files and opened the one on top. "Well. First we have Mick Laurence," he announced. Harold and Isabella listened intently and Alicia crossed her fingers tightly behind her back. "The good news is that Mick was not involved in a car accident. The police report just said that he was found unconscious. The bad news is that there is a crack in the back of his skull but we were able to close it and stitch it back together with five stitches. He also broke his wrist, very minor break though. Mick woke up from the anesthetic about twenty minutes ago."
Isabella and Harold looked weak with relief that their sound was not hurt badly. Alicia released her cramped fingers and sighed deeply. She sucked the breath back in when she realized that they had not heard about Ty yet.
Dr. Ryder closed Mick's file and slowly placed it aside and opened the second file. "Next we have Tyler Baldwin. I am sorry to say that Tyler's injuries are more severe then Mick's are. Again, according to the reports the police left with me, Tyler was involved in the actual car crash. His car was smashed up against the boulders."
Jane paled violently and Brad gripped her hand. Lee was clutching the back of his parents' chairs so hard that his knuckles were turning white.
"He had some blood lose and needed three stitches to close up a wound above his left eyebrow. From the impact of the collision Ty's head would have snapped to the side," the doctor mimed the movement. "He's very lucky he did not break his neck but he has suffered trauma to the head. We had to operate to stop some internal bleeding; Ty has not yet regained consciousness. To put it quite simply, Ty is in a coma."
Jane gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Brad rubbed her arm in an attempt to sooth her.
"When will he wake up?" Lee asked.
"I can't possibly say. Even with the medical technology we have today it is still impossible to predict when a coma patient will wake up. He could wake up tonight, tomorrow, next week or next month or in three years. It is important for you to understand that there is the chance that he will not wake up at all." Dr. Ryder paused as the stricken Baldwin's absorbed the information. Dr. Ryder took a breath and spoke again. "We also cannot predict any lasting injuries, such as paralysis or memory lose."
"May we see them?" Jane asked as tears filled her eyes.
"Of course, I'll take you to their room now," Dr. Ryder said. He stood up and led the families through the white corridors once again. They got in the elevator and took it to the sixth floor. They got out and walked down more corridors until the reached room number 749.
Dr. Ryder slowly opened the door and gestured for the two families to enter the room. The room was off-white with a desert border, the same as everywhere else. In a way it was nice, it wasn't all blinding white like some hospitals were. There was a large window directly opposite from the door and there was a mahogany table sitting under it. There were several chairs scatter haphazardly around the room.
Ty lay motionlessly on the only bed that was in the room. He was hooked to various different machines that were whirling and buzzing in the background, doing their intended jobs. There was a piece of white gauze on the side of his head and his skin looked extraordinarily pale against the white sheets and blankets. The only color about his was his dark hair that fell across the white pillows messily, always messy, now was no exception.
One of the chairs was occupied by a slumped figure that held his head in his head in his hands, the left one being in a bright, white plaster cast. At the sound of the door opening the person jumped up and looked at the rooms new occupants will wide, navy blue eyes. Mick.
"Oh, Mick!" Isabella cried out in relief and rushed towards her son. She gave him a big hug that he returned gratefully, burying his head into his mother's neck. Alicia hugged her brother too. Even Harold joined in on the sentimental family moment.
Jane, Brad and Lee moved towards the bed where their son, our brother in Lee's case, lay motionless. The covers barely stirred with ever breath Ty took.
Jane sat down in the chair Mick had recently vacated and scooted it closer to her eldest son's side. She carefully picked up his hand, careful not to disturb the tubes attached to it, and rubbed it gently.
"I'm sorry," Mick's voice broke the silence five minutes later. He hung his head and starred at the white tiled floor. His shaggy blonde hair fell in front of his eyes. He looked weak and defeated and the white bandage around his head contrasted drastically with his hair.
"It's not your fault, Mick," Jane assured the teenager quietly.
"But I shouldn't even have let him do it," Mick mumbled.
"Never mind all of that now," Harold berated his son brusquely. "What happened?" he demanded.
"Some guys," Mick began in a mumble, he was tempted to just come out and say who they had been but he knew he shouldn't, "Challenged Ty and me to a… a street race," Mick winced at the words he knew would upset his parents more then anything else.
"I though we talked about this, Mick," Harold said.
"I knew it!" Brad grumbled. "And to think, I let the boy go! If he was awake right now…"
"Brad!" Jane sobbed, astounded. Tear caressed down her pale cheeks. "Don't say that! Please, just don't!" she whimpered. "Whatever you may say no will make no difference in the end."
"What else happened?" Harold prompted his son as Isabella moved to Ty's bedside to attempt to comfort her weeping friend.
"Ton… the guy," Mick quickly amended, "Said that he and Ty would go first. They were gone for about five minutes or so when there was this really loud crash. And then the guys second came towards me and hit me on the head with something hard and metal, I think. Then I don't remember anything."
"Who were these guys you spoke of?" Brad phrased his question like he would have had he been in a courtroom at the time and not in a hospital room standing by his unconscious son.
"I… don't know," Mick said lamely. "We didn't get their names," he muttered.
The subject was dropped then and everyone gravitated towards Ty. Mick lingered where he was and glanced over at his friend.
Ty… who was normally so fun and energetic, often times insane. A partier, someone who like to, knew how to and who wasn't afraid to have a good time. Mick's best friend. Now he lay unmoving on the hospital bed hooked to machine after machine. Mick hung his head and looked back at the ground in shame.
§ The Peak §
Wednesday morning
Scottsdale Academy
8 o'clock a.m.
It was an extreme rarity for Mick Laurence's hunter green Corvette to arrive at Scottsdale Academy without the famous black Ferrari that belonged to his best friend, Ty Baldwin, near by. But today was one of those days that had only occurred a handful of times in the past. The top was up, another rarity, something bad had happened, everyone could tell already.
The Corvette screeched to an unorthodox screech in a spot and Mick clambered ungracefully out of the low car. He slammed the hunter green door shut forcefully and locked the car before he trudged up towards the school. He wore his mandatory khaki shorts, navy blazer, white polo and liberty blue and deep red, diagonally striped Ty. There was a fresh, white plaster cast on his left wrist.
Mick scowled at all the people who said anything to him. Mick ditched first and second period in retaliation for being made to go to school. He didn't speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary and it seemed that he didn't have any nice or social polite things to say.
Mick clomped into Mr. Bender's War History class twenty minutes late.
"How nice of you to join us, Mr. Laurence," Mr. Bender said from his spot in the front of the class.
Mick didn't even acknowledge the portly, stout man as he marched to his desk in the back and dropped his black schoolbag to the ground with a 'thud'. Mick glared at a senior girl who stared at his cast. She quickly averted her eyes.
"Do you have a late note, Mr. Laurence?" Mr. Bender called back.
Mick looked up as he teacher and his lip curled into a sneer as he took in Mr. Bender's appearance. He wore a pair of horrible, olive green pants that were tight around his chunky thighs and fell an inch and a half above his hideous brown suede clown shoes. Mr. Bender's white button down was barely able to conceal the stomach that hung over the waist of his pants. Coupled with a brown blazer and a tie that said 'World's Greatest Teacher' Mr. Bender had deemed himself ready to go and, if he could say so himself, quite dashing. His thinning brown hair was greasy and his eyes were small and squinty, mouse like. Despite his age, he had bad skin. The brown blazer just barely concealed the rapidly growing pit stains.
"No," Mick replied.
"I'll have to mark you late then, Mr. Laurence," Mr. Bender waddled over to his grade book and marked Mick's lateness down. "As rule number 13 states," he began, his voice muffled as he bent over his desk, his huge buttocks thrust into the air.
"It's a full moon tonight," a boy behind Mick snickered to his friends.
"As rule number 13 states," Mr. Bender began again as he pushed himself off of the desk with a great effort and a small grunt. "Thou shalt not be late to thy studies."
"So?" Mick snapped with a blink. He was in no mood for his teachers antics today.
"Shall I take of more points, Mr. Laurence?" Mr. Bender tutted as he tried to fold his shirt, fat arms over his huge man boobs that would have made the best plastic surgeon swoon with envy. "Rule number 34 clearly says, 'Thou shalt not show any disrespect to thy teachers."
"Wonderful," Mick muttered under his breath.
"Why were you late, Mr. Laurence?" Mr. Bender enquired as he finally gave up trying to cross his arms and shoved them into his pockets instead. Now he looked more like a penguin then ever except he had two bulging lumps on either side of his legs.
"Because I could care less about a stupid war that was 500 years ago."
Mr. Bender's chubby face fell ashen; he loved his subject and could not… would not tolerate any student to criticize it! "Mr. Laurence!" he exclaimed in exasperation. "As rule number 24 says, 'Thou shalt not…"
"I don't give a shit about the fucking rules!" Mick exploded, finally reaching his breaking point.
A stunned silence enclosed over the class. Some of the more studious students that, never in their wildest fantasies, did someone so blatantly disrespect one of their fine educators looked shell-shocked.
Before Mr. Bender could reply, Mick's cell-phone buzzed in his pocket and he yanked it out. "What?" he snapped into the phone without looking at the caller ID first.
"Mick? Is that you?" Missy's sweet voice chirped in his ear.
"Oh, hi, Miss," Mick said wearily as he rubbed a hand across his eyes in fatigue.
"Mick!" Missy suddenly exploded, her voice lost all of its previous 'sweetness'.
"What?" Mick asked slightly startled, he'd never heard Missy yell before.
"What the hell happened?" she demanded. "I saw the paper this morning!" she yelled so loud that Mick had to take the phone away from his ear and slumped forwards when he realized that everyone had heard that comment.
"Missy, calm down," Mick desperately pleaded with her.
"Do not tell me to calm down, Mick Laurence! Tell me what happened! Is that article true?"
Mick glanced around the classroom. Every eye was trained on him in interest. Mr. Bender had shuffled towards his desk and was picking up the unread copy of that mornings newspaper. He scanned the front-page briefly and his eyes focused on something and his mouth dropped open.
"It's true," Mick mumbled.
"What? I didn't catch that," Missy shot back.
"I said, it's true!" Mick burst out.
There was silence on Missy's line and in the classroom. "Well are you okay?" Missy asked, her voice now full of worry and concern.
"I'm fine," Mick replied.
"What about Ty? I tried his cell but he didn't answer."
"Can we talk about this later, Missy? Please?" Mick begged her.
"No we cannot talk about this later, Mick!" Missy exclaimed. "The papers didn't say anything specific about your or Ty's condition. Tell me! Now!"
"Ty's…" Mick stopped when everyone looked at him again. "Ty's in a coma," he mumbled so softly that even Missy didn't stand a chance of hearing him.
"I can't hear you, Mick," Missy said impatiently.
Mick raised his voice a little but even the slight increase carried around the classroom as he spoke. "Ty's in a coma," he repeated.
"What? No! He can't be! When will he wake up?" Missy sobbed.
"I don't know," Mick said leaning back. "The doctor said it could be today or tomorrow or whenever or he might… he might not wake up at all."
After another moment of silence from Missy, she tried her best to compose herself before speaking again. "Is he at the Mayo Clinic?" she asked.
"Yes," Mick responded dejectedly.
"Very well, I'll go visit him later."
Mick closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
"Shall I read the article aloud, Mr. Laurence?" Mr. Bender asked from the front of the class. Mick didn't even bother to answer since he knew that Mr. Bender would just go ahead and read it anyway.
Mr. Bender held the newspaper in front of his face and cleared throat before he started to read.
DEAD MAN'S CURVE CLAIMS ANOTHER LIFE?
The laws and warnings to stay off local area Dead Man's Curve, near the Blue Horse Mountains, have once again proved futile – possibly even attractive – to young teenage racers. Another accident involving teenage drivers and high-speed cars has prompted local safety authorities to question the usefulness of the laws surrounding the area.
Two teenage boys, Tyler Baldwin and Mick Lawrence, both aged 17, were found unconscious near the wreckage of two cars at Dead Man's Curve, late on Saturday night. No others were found. A local woman heard noises from the forbidden area and says it was almost routine for her to call the police. "We get noises round about there almost every weekend. Do they think the laws are actually doing something to stop kids from driving down there? Way I see it, the only way they can stop the accidents at Dead Man's Curve is to fill it in or something … make it completely inaccessible for vehicles."
Emergency helicopters were called by police who took both boys to Mayo Clinic Hospital. Doctors will neither confirm nor deny the rumors that street racing caused the accident, nor will they release any information on the condition of the two teenagers. Continued on page A14.
§ The Peak §
Mayo Clinic Hospital
That afternoon
Mick staggered down the blindingly white hallway after his school day from hell. He stopped at the door numbered 749 and placed his hand on the metal doorknob. He turned it and pushed the door opened. Mick was surprised at all the people crowded into the room. There was him mom and dad, Jane, Brad and of course, since they never seemed to be far from Ty, Amy, Lou, Jake, Soroya, Matt and the rest of the annoyingly large group.
Mick closed the door behind him and took a closer survey of the people in his best friend's room.
His eyes stopped on one person in particular. The one person that had yet to turn around and look at Mick.
There was something familiar about that figure. The man was tall and lean and muscular, his skin creamy white and dark brown hair swept carefully across his forehead. He wore that black, leather jacket… then he turned around in a lithe dancers pivot and Mick starred into those haunting brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black.
When Mick finally found his voice it was loud and angry. "What the hell are you doing here!"
a/n: review! -Steph