Chapter Twenty-One:
'Ethan!' Dylan rasped, dropping to his knees and pulling Ethan towards him. To his surprise, Ethan was awake. He grabbed Ethan's top, pulling it over his mouth and nose.
'Coming,' Ethan said, albeit sleepily. 'Where Cal?'
'You're alright,' Dylan said. He knelt up, sliding his hands under Ethan's armpits and picking him up. 'We're going to go and find him. How do you feel?'
''m tired,' Ethan said. He reached out to grab at a handful of smoke, causing Dylan to almost drop him. 'My room. That way.'
'I think we'll go this way,' Dylan said, adjusting Ethan as gently as he could, and staggering to the door. 'Stay awake, Ethan.'
Ethan stroked the fabric covering Dylan's face. It felt very soft. Like a cat.
Connie's car screeched to a halt in the carpark, and without bothering to lock it, she leapt out and raced to the cordon outside the ED. 'Is anyone still in there?' she demanded, to Big Mac. 'Where's Dr Hardy?'
'Well… erm… Dr Keogh's dealing with it, Ms Beauchamp,' replied Big Mac, uncomfortably. 'He's gone to get him.'
'They're inside?' Connie almost spat her words at him, and ducked under the cordon tape. She ran, grateful to be wearing her trainers, and headed for the entrance. This was her territory.
As she got to the doorway, she heard coughing coming from the corridor. 'Hello?' she bellowed. The smoke looked grisly.
'Help!'
She ducked her head, trying to get her bearings as she entered the corridor. 'I'm Dr Keogh. I've got a patient!' a familiar voice bellowed.
'It's Connie!'
'I've got Ethan! Help me,' Dylan gasped. As light as Ethan was, he was struggling to keep hold of him while navigating the smoke. Strong arms helped support Ethan's weight, and lead him out into the cold, clean night air. Dylan stumbled and sat back against a wall, dropping to the floor while letting Ethan crumple against him. Connie yelled for help. Dylan unwound the jersey from his face, and glanced at Ethan. He was coated in a layer of thick grey grime and wheezing, but he was alive.
'C-A-L on R-O-U-T-E,' Connie said, urgently. 'How much smoke did you breathe in, Dylan?'
'Not much. Jumper helped.' Dylan coughed, weakly. 'He's had a good lungful, mind,' he noted, gesturing at Ethan. A paramedic was easing a mask over Ethan's face. 'Everyone else out?'
Connie nodded. She pulled her stethoscope roughly from around her neck, 'Can I listen?'
Feeling too tired to argue, Dylan simply nodded. She unbuttoned his shirt, and listened. 'Open your mouth,' she ordered, scanning his throat and mouth with her penlight for signs of smoke inhalation. 'Pulse OX, please. Dr Keogh, demonstrate that you've not got mental confusion by attaching that to yourself properly.'
'I'm fine,' he argued. Connie glanced at the oximeter. 'You've got good SATS. Soot in your nose, though. Somehow he escaped that.' she acknowledged, nodding with approval. 'However, I'm sending you for tests. God knows what that smoke is made up of, Carbon Monoxide's probably the minimum we can expect.'
Dylan decided not to argue. He turned to look at Ethan. 'How is he?'
'Stable. He's doing brilliantly,' Iain said. Ethan's eyes were shut, under the o2 mask, but he was awake. 'Are we going to St. James'?'
'A&E is diverting to St. James. Ethan's a neurology patient so he doesn't need to be moved, as far as I'm concerned,' Connie finished checking Dylan. 'This one's getting admitted for observation as well. How's Ethan doing?'
Ethan's eyes were closed, but Connie was fairly sure he was awake. His skin, beneath a thick and claggy coat of soot, looked pale. He was shivering. 'Ethan!' she called, shaking his shoulder. He didn't look up. 'Ethan?'
'Ethan, open your eyes. Can you tell me where you are?' Iain said, touching the patient's face. Ethan opened his eyes, but it was clearly a response to the touch rather than any understanding of what he'd been asked to do.
Connie's heart sank, as she pulled her coat around him. 'Ethan? Where are you?'
He just looked up at her and stared blankly, before his eyes became very unfocused. He groaned loudly, closing his eyes tightly and slipping to the side, his body limp. Iain caught him, and laid him down. 'Seizure?' the paramedic asked, sounding calmer than any of them felt. Connie nodded, her lip turning white as she bit down on it. 'Time it, please.'
