Chapter 2
Ferg's held his fingers against Walt's neck. There was a moment of dread before he eventually felt the weak flutter of a pulse.
"Oh, thank God," he said aloud.
He knew the ambulance was already on its way, the 911 operator had seen to that, but he would have to do something to stop, or at least slow, the bleeding in the interim. He ran to Walt's bathroom and found some towels. He returned to Walt and rolled him onto his back so he could see where the blood was coming from. The entry wound was neat and about three inches below his collar bone, but the exit wound on his back was ugly and jagged and bleeding profusely. Ferg then pressed the towel against the larger wound and tightly held it there.
"Just hold on, Walt," he pleaded.
As he did, Walt moaned.
"It's okay, Walt. Help's coming," he said reassuringly.
Walt began to cough and make disturbing sounds as he tried to breathe. Ferg realized that his lung had most likely been hit. He remembered a first aid course Walt had sent him and Vic on a couple of years back. Roll the victim on their injured side to allow the undamaged lung to function unimpeded. So he did that.
He was so relieved when he heard the ambulance driving up towards the house. He ran to the door.
"In here. Hurry!"
The paramedics did as he directed and once inside, quickly got to work on their patient. After a quick examination, they prepared to move him. One of them placed an oxygen mask on Walt and then set up an IV line, handing the bag of saline to Ferg hold with instructions to squeeze it gently to get the fluids into him quickly. The other was concentrating on the wound. He packed it and placed a pressure bandage on it.
"Okay, we need to get him to the ambulance now," one of them told Ferg.
His colleague left them and ran back to the ambulance to fetch the gurney. As he was out there, another truck pulled up outside.
Vis's heart plummeted when she saw the ambulance and the paramedic unloading the gurney. She parked the truck and got out as quickly as she could. She hobbled hurriedly towards the cabin. Her ankle was still killing her after her little encounter in the bar the previous day.
"Walt!" she yelled as she neared the house, a hint of panic in her voice.
She stopped dead at the entrance when she saw him lying just inside on the floor covered in blood.
"What the hell happened?" she asked Ferg who stood helplessly holding the saline. "Was it Browning?"
"Browning? Isn't he…..?
"He escaped custody at the hospital. I got a call while I was on my way here."
"I don't know who did this. The door was kicked in and I found him lying here. He's been unconscious since I got here."
"How bad is it?" she asked unable to hide her concern.
Ferg looked to the paramedic to answer.
"We need to get him to the hospital. He's losing too much blood," was the answer.
His colleague had returned with the gurney. Within a minute, they had expertly loaded their patient onto it. As they were about to wheel him to the deck, Walt started to come around. He was trying to speak.
"It's okay, Sherriff. Just breathe, nice and easy," the paramedic told him.
Walt's hand went up to remove the mask from his face and the medic stopped him.
"Wait," Ferg said, as he leaned down to hear what his boss was saying.
"Donna? Who's Donna?" he asked Vic.
Vic had to think for a minute. Walt put his hand out and grabbed at Ferg's sleeve, pulling him closer.
"He….took…..her…." Walt said breathlessly.
The Ferg looked perplexed until Vic told him who she was.
"Dr. Monaghan," she explained. "Oh my God. I think she and Walt were…you know…together."
Walt didn't release Ferg's sleeve. He repeated his words.
"He…has…her."
Ferg understood this time.
"Who, Walt? Who has her?"
"Tom…..Tommy….," the sheriff replied, his words slurred.
Vic and Ferg exchanged glances.
"Did he say Tommy?" Vic asked, not sure if she had heard correctly.
"I think so," Ferg replied, shrugging his shoulders to communicate that he didn't know who that was.
"Walt, who's Tommy? Walt?" Vic asked, trying to find out as much as she could, but it was no good. Walt had passed out once more.
"We gotta move," the paramedic told them, as they wheeled Walt out and carried him down the steps and out to the waiting ambulance.
Vic quickly scanned the cabin. She saw the beer cans and what looked like a ladies blouse on the floor near the coffee table and a denim shirt strewn on the sofa. She hobbled towards the bedroom and saw the blood spatter on the wall near the door frame. She checked the room and saw more blood on the floor. She noticed that the bed was unmade. Then her eyes were drawn to the cream skirt on the floor. She was beginning to get the picture. Walt definitely hadn't been alone when he was shot. She came back into the living room.
"Check the rest of the house. Dr. Monaghan was here when it happened. She could be hiding or she could be hurt," she told Ferg. "I'm going to ride with Walt to the hospital."
She yelled at the paramedics to wait for her and hurried out as fast as her injured ankle could carry her and climbed on board. They set off at speed, sirens blaring in the direction of Durant Regional Hospital.
Ferg checked the house inside and out. There was no sign of anyone else. It was then that he remembered that Walt's truck was missing.
"This guy probably took his truck," he muttered to himself.
He needed to get an APB out on it. But first he needed to call Cady. She should know what had happened.
He took out his cell and paused to compose himself for a moment, before placing the call. She answered quickly.
"Hi, Ferg. How are you this fine day?" she said, full of the joys of spring.
She had just been handed a large check from Jacob Nighthorse to provide a legal service for his native people on the Rez. It was the opportunity she had been waiting for her whole life. She was excited for the adventure that lay ahead.
"Eh, okay," was all Ferg could say.
"Is everything okay, Ferg?" she asked, sensing by the lack of his usual charm that he had something on his mind.
"Cady, it's your dad," he said hesitantly.
"Dad? What he gone and done now?"
"He's been shot, Cady. He's on his way to the hospital," he told her.
"What? Is he okay?"
"Eh, he was in and out of consciousness last I saw. Vic is in the ambulance with him. They've just left for the hospital," he told her.
"Oh God, I'll go straight there. Thanks for letting me know," she said, trying to remain calm.
They ended the phone call and Ferg called Ruby, who was off duty, to go to the office and help coordinate the search for whoever did this to Walt. The APB went out and he hoped that Highway Patrol would spot it. He tried to call Henry to tell him what had happened, but there was no response. Then he got back to the job at hand, photographing Walt's house. It felt a little voyeuristic, taking photographs of his boss's personal belongings in his personal space. He felt uncomfortable, but knew it was his job and that the incident needed to be recorded for evidence.
Meanwhile, in the ambulance, Vic was feeling more and more distraught. Walt's condition was deteriorating. He was noticeably struggling to breathe.
"Help him," she yelled at the paramedic.
He looked at her, feeling helpless. He knew what to do. The sheriff needed a chest tube, but it was something only a doctor should normally do at the hospital. He wasn't qualified to carry out the procedure, but considering the sounds that the sheriff was making as he tried to inhale, he may not be in need of it by the time they reach the hospital. It would probably be too late. He had to make a decision. He shouted to his colleague to stop the ambulance.
"What? Why?"
"Patient's in trouble. He needs a chest tube."
"Jim….you can't," the driver told him, knowing the implications it may have on his colleague's career.
"Just pull in." He's not going to make it if I don't."
The driver did as he asked. Jim rooted around their kit and found a chest tube and scalpel. Vic looked on, terrified. Jim asked her to raise Walt's arm over his head to give him better access to his chest. He swabbed the area and counted down his ribs to find the correct area to make the incision. He glanced at Vic and then at his colleague before making the small incision. Vic gripped Walt's hand tightly tears escaped her eyes. She flinched as Jim inserted a finger into the incision. She couldn't help but feel squeamish. He carefully inserted the tube through the wall of Walt's chest and waited. Relief washed over him as blood trickled out through the tube and almost instantly Walt's breathing eased.
Jim hammered on the divide between the driver and the patient.
"We're good. Get going, Steve. Put your foot down," he told his colleague.
With that, Steve pulled off the roadside and accelerated. Ten minutes later they reached the hospital. Cady was waiting outside when the ambulance pulled into the ambulance bay.
She strained to get close to her father as the paramedics unloaded him. Vic intercepted her as they rushed him into the ER.
"Let them work, Cady," she said, as fearful for Walt as Cady was. Reluctantly, she got out of the way as they brought him into the Trauma Room.
As the paramedics rhymed off their patient's injuries and his vitals, the doctor noticed the chest tube. He glared at the medics. He knew he would have to report the unauthorised medical procedure, but it would have to wait. His patient was his priority.
They got to work, striving to stabilise Walt before surgery. After what seemed like an eternity, he was taken to the OR. Cady and Vic tried to remain calm as they waited for news. As they waited, Vic's cell phone rang. It was Ruby.
"Vic, Walt's truck's been spotted, headed south. I've called Mathias to help out. He's going to follow, but has no authority off the Rez. They need you out there," she told her.
"Ok, Ruby. I'm on my way," Vic replied.
"How's Walter?"
"He's in surgery. We don't know much right now," she told her. "Cady's here. She could do with some company though. Have you been able to reach Henry?"
"Not yet but I can keep trying," Ruby told her.
The call ended and Vic explained to Cady that she had to go. She knew Walt would want her to find Dr. Monaghan. Despite her personal feelings of jealousy, she still had a job to do. She asked Cady to call her as soon as she knew anything.
To be continued