Chapter 1:
The sound of a van's engine shattered the quiet stillness of the night. The white vehicle rounded the corner, the two left tires nearly coming off the road such was the speed it was traveling. The brakes screeched to a halt as they arrived at their destination, an old bricked building long since abandoned at least outwardly. The foundation was still sturdy but some of the red bricks had crumbled and cracked. Long green vines had climbed up the five story structure giving it a creepy, almost haunted look.
The building was in a bad part of town, a place no decent citizen would ever venture into unless absolutely necessary and even then, weapons of protection would have been no doubt taken along for safety. The engine was turned off and the quiet of the night was once again resumed, but not for long. Two doors in the front of the van opened and quickly slammed shut with a loud clunk. A man had gotten out of the driver's side, and a woman had emerged from the passenger side. They seemed surprisingly at ease in the dangerous place they were in.
Both of them headed for the back of the white van and yanked the doors open. They spent a few seconds checking out the interior before reaching in and hauling out two limp bodies which they slung carelessly over their shoulders and trooped into the building, staggering a bit under the weight they carried.
The inside of the building was in better shape than the outside. In fact, it almost looked redone though not in the sense of most office buildings. The light was dingy and yellow, still adding to the haunted effect. The floors were swept reasonably clean though and the windows were not broken. A few forgotten cobwebs hung in the dark corners. The burly driver led the slender girl to a set of stairs and they descended them to the basement which extended past the borders of the building, newly redone in concrete. They walked down long halls and corridors until they stopped before a barred door which led to a small, dark cell. There they dropped their burdens on the hard floor and smiled at each other.
“Time to have some fun,” the muscular man with shiny black eyes sneered at his partner in crime.
“Oh Juhotta you know I cannot wait,” The girl, Lillian, grinned back just as evilly. She turned to the blonde headed girl laying senseless at her feet and gave her a harsh kick in the ribs. “Get up you lazy dog!” she yelled.
The other female on the ground seemed to suddenly come to life as she heard the yell. Her dark brown hair slid to her shoulders as she lifted her head. “Hey! Leave Sandra alone!” her voice was harsh as if she hadn't talked in quite some time.
“Do you need a kick too Catherine?” Lillian laughed heartlessly, soon joined by Juhotta.
“Oh bring it on sister!” Catherine challenged, now furious. “I'll smack you right in the gob!” She pushed herself up on shaky limbs.
Lillian seemed a bit taken aback by her prisoner’s spirit. “I think you'd much rather fight Juhotta,” she answered quickly with a slightly nervous laugh.
“Oh yeah tough guy? Bring it on!” Catherine retorted angrily.
Juhotta swiftly kneed her in the stomach and she bent double as she collapsed back onto the ground with a cry of pain. “Enough!” Juhotta ordered. “Now you two are gonna sit nice and quiet and when your friends realize you're gone tomorrow, I think we'll set up a little video chat.”
Sandra roused from her drugged state and winced at the look on Catherine's face. It didn't take long for her to put the pieces together despite how fogged up her brain was. “W-what are you going to do with us?” she asked hesitantly, fearfully, as she rubbed the sore knot on the back of her head.
“You'll find out,” Lillian smirked. “For now, get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow.” With that, the two girls' captors left and disappeared around the corner, leaving them in nearly pitch black darkness as the basement held hardly any light. Juhotta's wicked laugh slowly faded into the distance.
Sandra shivered at his heartless words and scooted closer to her friend Catherine. “Goodbye and good riddance for tonight then,” she whispered to Lillian and Juhotta under her breath.
Catherine wrapped her arms around herself in a hug,to comfort herself. “Oh what are we going to do?” she whispered fearfully, all earlier attempts at being sassy now gone.
Sandra shivered again. “I-I don't know,” she answered just as quietly. “It's s-so cold in here,” the young woman added, her teeth already beginning to chatter.
“Here, come here,” her friend offered, motioning for Sandra to come closer so they could share body heat. Sandra eagerly accepted and Catherine wrapped her arms around her friend, trying to stay warm.
“This reminds me of when I first met Kelsey,” Sandra murmured a little while later, unnerved by the silence and trying to keep up hope.
“What do you mean?” asked Catherine quietly, though she was a bit interested.
“I was sitting in the cave Mark's in now. It was the middle of winter and she found me crying.”
“I'm sorry,” Catherine apologized, now shivering herself. She huddled against Sandra, grateful that they were together. After a moment of silence she sighed. “Do you think everyone's ok?”
“I-I don't k-know,” Sandra answered shakily, her teeth chattering loudly. “I h-hope s-so.”
“Man I'm starving. Should've eaten something before we left,” Catherine half grinned a minute later in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Sandra nodded faintly. “Yeah. I- CATHERINE!” she screamed, grabbing onto her friend, practically shoving her over in fright. She began to shake all over.
“What?! What's wrong?!” Catherine yelped, now just as scared.
“I-it's a r-rat!” Sandra stammered, now starting to feel a little sheepish.
“Oh man don't scare me like that again!” Catherine gasped. “I thought Juhotta was back!”
“S-sorry,” Sandra gulped. “It's just...I'm really on edge right now. And rats really bother me.”
“I know. I'm really on edge too,” Catherine admitted.
Sandra sighed. “I'm sorry,” she apologized again. “I'm sorry I got us into this mess. I'm sorry I couldn't be a better doctor. I-I just don't know what to do.”
“Hey stop apologizing Sandra or you'll find yourself gobsmacked,” Catherine teased with a shaky grin.
Sandra looked confused. “What does that even mean?”
Catherine chuckled a bit. “I guess it just means a good punch in the mouth.”
“Maybe I need it. I'm certainly not thinking very straight right now,” Sandra mumbled dejectedly.
“Under the circumstances I think you're handling yourself fairly well. Don't worry. Everything will be ok.” Catherine assured her.
“You sound like my sister. She-” Sandra suddenly stiffened, pulling away from Catherine as her hand flew to her mouth. “I-I didn't mean to say t-that...” she stammered awkwardly.
“I never knew you had a sister,” Catherine mused curiously.
Sandra winced. “T-that's because no one but Kelsey knows I have one. I don't ever talk about it.”
“You might as well. We've got nothing better to do,” Catherine suggested.
The room was silent for a very long moment. Sandra clearly hesitated before clearing her throat. “I-I overheard my parents talking one night and they mentioned my sister. I asked Mom about it the next morning and she said if I ever brought it up again I'd be grounded for a year and then she punished me for eavesdropping.”
“What were they saying about her?” Catherine's voice had a curious note to it.
“M-Mom was crying, saying that she missed her and Dad was the complete opposite. It was the only time I ever heard them fight.”
Catherine sighed. “I hardly knew my real parents. I was given up for adoption a long time ago. Stewart was eight then and Mum was pregnant with Mark. I'm the middle child.”
“Do you even remember your real parents' names?” Sandra asked.
“Not really...all those memories are really kinda fuzzy. What were your parents' names?”
A sad look flashed across Sandra's face. “My mom's name was Janet and my dad was named Peter.”
Catherine suddenly jumped and stiffened, her expression looking as if she'd been shot.
Sandra's face paled in fright. “Wh-why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?!” she stammered.
“Y-your parents' real names.....t-they were J-Janet and Peter?” Catherine stumbled over the words.
“Yeah, why? My sister was named Megan.”
“Those names sound so familiar. Like something our of a dream,” Catherine answered slowly.
“Hmm. I've dreamed of meeting my sister so many times. I've played it out in my head countless nights. You look kinda how I imagined her,” Sandra smiled a bit. “Do you remember their last names?”
Catherine shook her head. “No, that was so long ago I don't think I can remember.”
Sandra grinned a bit sheepishly. “My last name is Valentine.”
Again, Catherine looked dazed. “T-that just sounds so familiar!” she repeated. Suddenly her eyes narrowed as she focused intently on a golden colored chain hanging around Sandra's neck. “What's that?” she asked, thinking of the similar one around her own neck.
“Oh this? Mom gave it to me not long b-before the accident. I kinda wore it to remind me of her.” She took it off. “Half of it's missing though.”
“S-Sandra......” Catherine gulped, removing her necklace and laying it on Sandra's hand next to the other one. Both of them were half hearts shaped partially like a puzzle piece in the center.
“Where d-did you get that?!” Sandra gasped as she stared at the golden objects in her hand. Almost mechanically she placed them together. They fit perfectly.
Catherine's hand flew to her mouth. “I-I've had this as long as I can remember.” She stared at Sandra, her eyes shining with tears. “D-do you realize what this means?! I-it makes perfect sense! The names sounded so familiar. I know I've heard them together before, last name and all.”
Tears were now streaming down Sandra's cheeks, the freezing temperature of the cell they were in now forgotten. “Y-you're my s-sister...” she whispered.
“I-I guess so!” Catherine was now crying tears of joy herself as she leaned in and wrapped Sandra in a warm embrace. “I-I can't believe this!”
“Oh me either!” Sandra agreed, finally letting go of Catherine so they could look each other in the eyes again and just grin at each other. “We have so much to catch up on!”
“I know! Tell me everything from the beginning!” Catherine urged.
The moments ticked by quickly. Both girls continued to chat long into the night, their troubles momentarily forgotten.
Chapter 2: Duty and Honor
A few hours earlier, several hundred miles away in a lonely forest in a dark cave, Mark Holbrook was lying feverishly in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Kelsey Meirs walked into the little hideout, holding a container of blackberries. She carried the fruits over to the sick pilot. “Mark?” The young female called, tossing her un-cooperating dark brown hair behind her shoulder. “Do you want some berries? They taste really good.” She held out the berries to him with purple stained fingers, trying to coax his failing appetite.
Mark's eyes drifted lazily over to her and then back to the ceiling. Kelsey sighed. “Can you try just one Mark?” she asked hopefully. Mark continued to stare at the ceiling.
Dylan's chair creaked as he stood up and walked over to his friend, wringing his hands in distress. His face was lined with worry, almost to the point of panic. Frank, Mark's dad, leaned forward in his own chair. “Mark, you ok buddy?” he asked gently.
Mark looked over at Frank and he shook his head faintly before returning his gaze to the ceiling. He was trembling. Kelsey bit her lip anxiously. “Dylan can you take his temperature again please?” she asked.
“What's wrong Mark?” Frank questioned as Dylan promptly proceeded to take the pilot's temperature. Mark continued to stare blankly ahead.
Kelsey glanced at the thermometer over Dylan's shoulder. “102.4,” she announced aloud.
“Mark please,” Frank urged. “Do you need something?” His friend's hand slowly crept up to his neck as Mark tried to find his dog tags. Frank reached into his pocket and placed the object into his hand. “Here,” he offered.
With shaking fingers and a fumbling hand, Mark attempted to place the chain around his neck. Frank immediately stood up and helped the pilot accomplish his task. Mark clutched the dog tags close as his eyes slipped slowly shut.
Kelsey tugged on Dylan's shirt. “Can you come here?” Kelsey led her friend into the far corner. “Mark's condition is really bothering me,” she admitted quietly.
“I-I don't know w-what to do,” Dylan stammered, for once at a loss. “I-I don't think I've ever seen him like this.”
“It's almost like he's in a trance,” Kelsey observed quietly.
Dylan sighed and settled himself against the wall, looking tired and a bit frightened. “I know,” he mumbled.
“You're really worried about him aren't you?” Kelsey asked needlessly.
“I can't let anything happen to him. I promised him Kelsey.”
“Dylan you know we'll do everything in our power to take care of him,” his friend quickly assured.
“But how can we help him if he doesn't talk to us?!”
“He's got Bella...” Kelsey's voice trailed off.
“What do you mean?” Dylan asked, exasperated. At the sound of her name, Bella raised her head and looked at Kelsey.
“She is a therapy dog,” Kelsey reminded. “Sometimes people talk to them when they won't talk to other people.”
“Well I hope so. I-I can't do this. I'm scared. I'm really scared for him. I've h-heard of people doing awful things w-when they're scared and have PTSD. And he's not eating or talking....” Dylan's eyes held raw fear.
Kelsey sighed. “He's been through a lot. If anyone can pull him out of it it'll be you or Dad.”
“I-I don't know...” Dylan mumbled.
“Really Dylan. You are like a father to him.”
Dylan suddenly stood up. “Not a very good one obviously.” He began pacing the room anxiously.
Kelsey watched him worriedly. “Dylan are you ok?” she wondered aloud.
“I-I don't know. Yeah. Y-yeah I'm fine.” He tried to hide his shaking hands in his pants pockets.
“You are not fine!” Kelsey countered. “What's wrong?” She asked, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
Dylan sighed. “I-I think I just need some air.”
“Take a walk then Dylan. I think you just need some time. We'll be ok here. Mark is in good hands.”
“I think I'll do that,” Dylan agreed as he ducked out of the cave and trudged towards the creek.
Mark moaned a few minutes later, tossing and turning restlessly. The covers fell off the cot, damp with his sweat. Frank woke up from the doze he had fallen into. “M-Mark? You ok?” he asked groggily.
With surprising strength, Mark ripped the oxygen mask off. “H-hot!” he gasped frantically. “E-everything's hot. Burning. C-can't breathe! It's h-hot!”
Frank sighed. “Easy Mark I'll fix it.” He wet the cloth and placed it on Mark's feverish forehead.
“I-it's h-hot! S-stop it! S-so hot!” Mark panted, flinching away from the object.
Kelsey hurried over and added more medicine to Mark's IV before laying the back of her hand on his cheek. “Burning up,” she mumbled. “Mark do you want some water?” she offered, glancing towards the cave entrance and wondering if they should dunk him in the creek again. She quietly voiced her thought to Frank who shrugged.
To both Frank and his daughter's surprise, Mark's fever glazed eyes opened and he gave a small nod.
“Kelsey if you'll take care of it I'll talk to Dylan,” Frank suggested, wheeling his chair outside.
Kelsey quickly fetched a cup and some cool water. She helped Mark sit up a bit and winced as she felt the immense heat rising from his body. “Easy now. Drink it slow,” she encouraged as she helped steady the cup and bring it to Mark's mouth. The pilot shakily drank a few sips before pushing the cup away.
“All finished? Think you could try to eat a little something?” Kelsey asked gently.
Mark shook his head and turned away.
“Please Mark. How are you ever going to get well enough to fix anything if you're too weak to get out of bed?”
“N-no,” Mark mumbled weakly as he tried to get his eyes to focus.
“Mark you're just shooting yourself in the foot. You're acting like you don't care anymore,” Kelsey scolded gently.
“I don't care! I don't care anymore! I don't care!” Mark suddenly yelled, bolting upright in bed. Leave me alone you all just leave me alone!” Mark sank back against his pillows with a groan and buried his face in his hands.
Kelsey sighed. “Mark I'm sorry. I really am. I just want to help,”
“I-I don't c-care anymore...” Mark answered, his body shaking with sobs.
“You need to care buddy. You've got people worried about you.”
Mark pulled his hands away from his face and looked up at Kelsey. “Look at me!” he shouted. “You don't think I'm trying here?! I can't be the hero. I'm a nobody!”
Kelsey looked at the frail body that had been under her care for so long. Mark was so skinny she could clearly see the outline of his ribs. His torso was riddled with too many scars to count. She swallowed hard. “Mark that's not true. Even heros need help sometimes. You are not a nobody. You have friends who care so deeply about you that they'll worry themselves to death. They love you Mark. They need you. And you need to fight and do everything in your power to get better. Eating something can make all the difference. I know you hate lying here feeling so bad. You need the strength to fight.”
“N-no. I'm not e-eating,” Mark mumbled, wrapping his skinny arms around Bella's neck and buried his face in her golden fur.
Shaking her head with worry and heaving a heavy sigh, Kelsey gave up and sat down on the little chair by his bed.
Frank had been looking for Dylan and had found him just out of sight around the corner. “Hey,” he called. “I think we may need to put Mark back in the creek.”
“Why?” Dylan asked flatly, his back turned to his friend. He didn't even bother making eye contact or even to look Frank's way.
“He's really burning up with fever Dylan,” Frank admitted.
Dylan finally turned to face Frank. “I'm really reluctant to do that. His breathing got really bad after we did it last time. He's only just come off the ventilator.”
“Kelsey gave him some more medicine for the fever so hopefully that'll help.” He took in Dylan's almost hopeless appearance. “Hey, you ok?”
“Just worried. I'm worried sick about him. And tired. So very tired,” Dylan answered exhaustedly.
“Why don't you try to get some rest then. You need sleep. You'll feel so much better,” Frank encouraged.
“I don't think I can.”
“Dylan, you're going to crash and then you'll be no good to yourself, Mark, or anyone. I can get you something to help you sleep if you like,” Frank offered.
“Y-yeah. Probably. I don't know,” Dylan replied listlessly.
“Well I insist that you do. Ok?”
Dylan ran his hands though his hair and nodded. “Alright.”
“We...we should probably get back then. It's getting late. I'll get you your sleeping pill and you can take a nap.” Frank started back for the cave, struggling over the uneven terrain. “Boy I can't wait until I can walk again,” he sighed.
Standing up to follow, Dylan helped his friend back to the cave where Frank got him the medicine. Dylan swallowed it down and lay on his sleeping bag without a word. Within minutes he was out. The others eventually followed suit, too worried and exhausted to stay awake despite their best efforts.
A loud noise suddenly woke Kelsey up, sometime in the middle of the night. She instinctively glanced at Mark's cot, thankful that the candle was still burning. Her thankfulness suddenly turned to horror as she realized he was not laying there. Looking frantically around she spotted him in the corner at the table, in a tangled mess of sheets and IV lines. His oxygen mask was draped around his neck like a necklace. The pilot was bent over, eating his soup. Kelsey's mouth dropped open in astonishment and she walked over.
“Hey Mark,” she greeted him quietly. “Everything alright?”
“I'm fine,” Mark answered simply, taking another bite of the cold meal.
“You're up awfully late but I'm glad you decided to eat.” Kelsey eyed the tangled IV lines and decided they didn't require immediate attention.
“Got hungry,” Mark replied gruffly, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.
“Would you like me to warm it up for you?” she offered.
“I'm fine,” Mark repeated. Suddenly he groaned, doubling over and dropping the spoon in the process.
Kelsey was by his side in an instant. “Mark? What is it? What's wrong?” she asked urgently.
“S-stomach h-hurts,” Mark moaned as the pain doubled.
“Mark you need to lie down,” Kelsey replied.
“N-no. W-wanna get better. Agh!” he cried out as another cramp hit.
“But Mark you can't overdo it. Here let me help.” She quickly got him untangled and Mark didn't resist as she helped him back to the cot. He cradled his stomach and groaned again. “I'll get you another painkiller,” Kelsey told the miserable pilot.
“No. C-can't think w-with it,” Mark managed to say.
“Are you sure?” Kelsey asked doubtfully. “A-alright. Do you need anything else?”
“M-my laptop...” Mark gasped.
“Ok I'll get it for you.” Kelsey groped around trying to find the computer. The dim light of the candle was hardly enough to see by and she ended up triping over Dylan's foot and nearly falling.
“Ow! What are you doing?!” Dylan mumbled groggily, still under the effects of the drugs.
“S-sorry I'm SO sorry!” Kelsey apologized profusely. “M-Mark wanted his computer,” she stammered.
“What's 'e want that for?” Dylan slurred. “'e should be sleeping.”
“I don't know. He got up and ate his soup too.”
“He did? That's good I guess. Hope he didn't try to overdo it.” Dylan's voice was still thick with sleep.
“I hope not either. He seemed like he was in a lot of pain but he refused a painkiller. Said it clouded up his mind. I just need to find the computer...”
Dylan sighed. “Frank or I should probably try to talk some sense into him. Knowing Mark he is trying to do too much all at once.”
Both of them looked up, startled, as something crashed loudly behind them. Mark had attempted to get up, and had pulled down the IV stand and his oxygen tank. Bella barked loudly in alarm.
“Mark! What are you doing?!” Kelsey cried, waking Frank up.
“N-needed my l-laptop. You were t-taking too long.”
Dylan sighed and stood up. “H-hold on I-I'll...” he stifled a yawn and swayed unsteadily. “This stuff is crazy! What did Frank give me?”
“Same stuff you gave him,” Kelsey replied as she pulled the laptop off the shelf, made Mark get back into bed and get settled in before she handed it to him.
Walking over, Dylan eyed his friend. “Alright Mark now that you have your laptop you need to take it easy. I'm going to listen to your lungs and stomach really quick.” He held up the stethoscope.
Mark reluctantly agreed and sighed while Dylan put the buds in his ears and checked various places on his chest, ribs and stomach.
“How is he?” Kelsey asked anxiously.
“Still some infection in his stomach and his breathing is not as strong as I would have liked but all things considered he's not terribly sick anymore. If only he would quit doing stupid stuff and keep aggravating the fever.”
Kelsey grinned a bit. “You hear that Mark? You've got to take it easy for a bit longer.”
“No. I have to get up now. I've wasted enough time already,” Mark replied with resolve.
“No Mark, you can't. Please cooperate. I don't want to have to give you another sedative,” Kelsey pleaded.
“The more I lay here the more people are in danger! I'm fine!” Mark insisted.
Kelsey's voice was beginning to sound exasperated. “Mark! You are no help to anyone in a state like this! Just wait a little longer until you get a bit better. At least do it for Frank. He'll need you around when he starts his therapy.”
“I am doing this for Frank. I'm doing this for all of you.”
“Mark that's not what I meant and you know it,” Kelsey sighed.
“Kelsey you can't even begin to understand how important this is. It's more important than anything.”
“Then please explain to me why it's such a big deal!”
“The chip that was in my arm contains vital and strategic defense plans for the British government. If it were to fall into the wrong hands my whole country could fall. Men, women and children will die if I don't eliminate the threat to it and do it now.”
“But it's safe here!” Kelsey countered.
“But England is my home. People I love are there. And if my country topples, there are things on that chip that could be used against your country...against the entire world. The Black Ring is a dangerous threat that must be eliminated.”
Kelsey turned to Dylan with a defeated look who looked over at Frank, who had now woken up and had been regarding their conversation quietly. Dylan was unsure how to deal with Military Mark.
Frank sighed. “Sorry Dylan, can't help you. Mark's put things in a whole new light.”
“But this is crazy! Kelsey tell him this is crazy. Mark you're still very sick! Your fever hasn't broken and you still have a pretty bad infection. You shouldn't have to save the world. You're just one guy! This is crazy. I forbid you!” Tears were running down Dylan's cheeks.
“H-he's got a point Dylan,” Kelsey sighed.
“Mark listen. If you go we're coming with you,” Frank told him, trying to compromise a bit.
Mark shook his head. “I can't risk your lives. You mean far too much to me,”
“Well maybe we feel the same way about you,” Frank replied. “If we can't go you can't go. There's a saying, two hands are better than one. It's true.”
Mark sighed. “Fine. But when it comes time, there are certain things I have to do alone. It's my duty.”
Chapter 3:
Quick footsteps echoed down the hall, easily heard by the two bedraggled sisters in the dark cell of a basement in an unknown location. Lillian glided into view, grinning evilly. “Hope you two enjoyed your talk.” Her smile vanished. “You two squabbling chickens are keeping me up ALL night with your yapping. So HUSH.”
“Oh yeah?” Catherine challenged, getting to her feet and walking over to face Lillian. “And who's gonna make me. You?”
“You impertinent little brat!” Lillian snapped. “Just shut your trap won't you?”
“Come on I'll knock you silly. You aren't so tough without you little boss eh? You're just his pathetic henchman.” Catherine grinned defiantly and stuck her hands through the bars on the cell, trying to get a grip on Lillian.
“Catherine don't!” Sandra cried.
Lillian grabbed both of Catherine's wrists with lightening quick reflexes and yanked the woman towards her with a surprising amount of strength, slamming her head into the metal bars. Catherine slumped to the ground, unconscious. Lillian was a bit surprised that she had knocked her out so easily but she smirked anyway. “Tell your little friend the next time she wants to challenge me we can just do that again.”
“NO!” Sandra cried, pulling Catherine to the other side of the little cell, out of Lillian's reach. “Catherine? Catherine please wake up!” she begged, looking in horror as blood dribbled from Catherine's head and spread into a little puddle on the concrete floor.
“Well well well,” Juhotta sneered as he strode up. “Look like Miss Sass finally got what she deserved.”
“Yeah she woke me up,” Lillian grumbled.
Sandra was crouching in the corner. She tore off her sleeve and tried to slow the bleeding. “N-no please,” she whispered, terrified.
Juhotta unlocked the cell door and strode in, yanking Sandra to her feet and away from Catherine. “You think you can save her? You think your childish pleas will save you two from the mess Mark has made?” he growled, shaking her roughly.
Sandra wrenched her arm out of Juhotta's grip. “J-just leave us alone!” She begged. “W-we didn't d-do anything to you!”
Juhotta's hand shot out like a whip as he backhanded her so hard that Sandra saw stars. Blood flowed from her newly busted lip and trickled down her chin. “Now listen to me. You are bait for Holbrook. You two will do as I say or bad things will happen to you. Is that understood?”
“T-then I guess I can do w-whatever I want since you n-need me alive,” Sandra retorted shakily as she brought her foot down on Juhotta's foot. Hard.”
“Why you little...” Juhotta's voice trailed off as he grabbed Sandra and wrenched her arm back, dislocating it. He shoved her down next to Catherine. “That'll teach you!” he growled. “And one more thing. We do not need you alive. In fact, if you were dead, Mark would probably drag his sorry self over here even quicker.”
Sandra screamed in agony as her shoulder dislocated. The sound echoed frightfully around the cell and the hall. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to quiet her pained whimpering.
“Now pipe down or I'll do it again!” Juhotta warned as he stepped out and locked the door behind him. Both he and Lillian disappeared down the hall.
Huddling in the corner, Sandra tried to get herself under control. “C-Catherine?” she whimpered.
Catherine groaned as she began to arouse.
“T-that's it s-sis,” Sandra encouraged, gritting her teeth against the unrelenting pain in her arm. “C-come on. W-wake up.”
Slowly, Catherine's eyes flickered open. “S-Sandra?” she murmured.
“Yes I-I'm right here in the corner. See?” Sandra tried to grin.
Catherine groaned again. “I swear I'll...” she abruptly stopped talking as her head pounded when she tried to sit up. Clutching it, she gasped raggedly.
“H-hey take it easy,” Sandra shivered in the cold. “You hit your head. Are you ok?”
“Other than t-the brain-splitting headache I'm just p-peachy,” Catherine managed to answer.
“I'm sorry,” Sandra mumbled. “Guess we're both in great shape huh?” she asked sarcastically.
Catherine noticed the swelling in Sandra's arm. “Wh-what happened to you?!”
“I stomped on Juhotta's foot...” Sandra began only to be interrupted by her sister.
“Oh my goodness! Sandra! Your arm's dislocated,” she announced as she pulled herself over to her friend and tried to see the damage better.
Sandra flinched. “D-don't touch p-please,” she begged. “H-hurts somethin' fierce.” She grit her teeth again against the pain.
“Sandra this has to be set. If we're going to escape you'll need the use of both arms.”
“B-but...” Sandra paused, trembling in fright. “I-I do this on patients all the time b-but always with a painkiller. W-we don't have any.”
“I don't know what to tell you Sandra,” Catherine replied gently. “I know it's going to hurt but we don't have another choice.”
Sandra nodded, tears running down her pale cheeks. “G-guess I'll have t-to,” she finally relented.
Gently gripping her sister's arm, Catherine took a deep breath. “You ready?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Sandra tried to fight the urge to tense up, knowing it would only make the pain worse. “N-no...” she stammered, her voice shaking.
“I know but we've got to. Three...two...” before Catherine reached one she quickly pushed Sandra's shoulder back in place. The joint clicked as it popped back in place.
Sandra screamed as she bent double in pain and curled up on the hard floor, gasping for breath and crying out as she held her arm.
Catherine scooted over and held her close. “Shh it's alright, it's ok, you're ok,” she whispered soothingly.
It was a few minutes before Sandra could talk. “S-sorry, I'm s-so s-sorry!” she whimpered.
“Just take some deep breaths. It's ok,” Catherine assured her again as she thumbed away her sister's tears.
“T-trying!” Sandra gasped in ragged sobs. “S-sorry...d-don't mean t-to be a p-pain.”
“Hey don't apologize. I know it hurts. I had to do this with Mark when we were kids.”
“W-well thanks....g-guess it's going to be sore for a few days,” Sandra sighed.
“Probably. But we can worry about that later. Let's get some sleep,” Catherine suggested.
Sandra nodded wearily. “Good idea.”
Both girls scooted themselves into the corner. Sandra lay her head in Catherine's lap and Catherine curled up as best as she could, trying to share body heat and that's how they both fell asleep.
Mark woke up rather early the next morning and shakily got out of bed. He managed to dress himself though he had to take two breaks because of the debilitating pain in his stomach but he forced himself on. When that task was complete he sat down at the little table with his laptop.
Frank woke up with a groan. He sleepily rubbed his eyes and saw Mark in the corner in the light of the computer. “Mornin',” he mumbled.
“We need to move fast,” Mark answered, completely focused on his task. He had all the appearance of a soldier but his voice was clipped by pain.
“Hey, hey! Don't be in such a hurry!” Frank grinned, happy to see Mark so much improved compared to yesterday. “Breakfast and painkillers for you first. Maybe I should tussle that hair of yours too,” he joked.
“Breakfast possibly, painkillers no,” Mark replied.
“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” Frank sighed, slipping two painkillers into his pocket without Mark knowing.
Mark stood to his feet, pressing his hand against his stomach in pain but he said nothing as he walked over to the cooler and looked at the contents inside. He found a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink.
Frank eyed him with concern but remained quiet. “Did you find anything for breakfast in the cooler?”
“There was some milk and some cereal on the shelf,” Mark replied. “Hey...where did Kelsey go?”
Frank shrugged. “Probably for a walk. She loves to get up early.”
Pounding footsteps suddenly sounded outside the cave. Kelsey darted in, her hair frizzy from the humidity and her eyes wide with fright. “Someone's coming this way!” she gasped.
Mark was instantly on alert. “Did you see what they looked like?” he asked as Dylan sat up and looked around anxiously.
“N-no I heard footsteps and raced back here as fast as I could. Dylan help me cover the entrance to the cave would you?”
Mark grabbed his gun and held it ready under the table as Dylan followed Kelsey outside and covered up the entrance as best as they could.
“Thanks Dylan,” Kelsey mumbled as she sat on Mark's vacated cot and twiddled her thumbs nervously.
Frank rolled his chair over to the table, knowing Mark had his weapon. He regarded him critically.
“I'm perfectly able to defend myself if that's what you're asking,” Mark told him quietly.
“Good. Just making sure,” Frank whispered. The cave fell silent as they all listened for footsteps.
They weren't long in coming. Someone or something paused right outside the entrance. Mark tensed, looking like he was about to spring. Frank looked at him and quickly put a finger to his lips in a gesture to be quiet. Mark paid him no mind and crept quietly to the entrance.
Just outside, there was more rustling noises. Someone sighed. “Ugh...stupid doctors...ran off and left me. I'll get them back.” The voice was clearly a woman's.
Mark suddenly pushed back the bushes and pointed his weapon at the woman. “Well well well Miss Carmen. Looks like you've found our hiding spot.”
“AHHH!” Carmen screamed, startled out of her wits. “Put that gun down!”
Kelsey gasped. “Mark! She had no idea we were here!”
Mark jerked the barrel of the weapon towards the cave entrance. “Get in. Now.” he ordered sternly.
Carmen hurried to obey, holding her hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. “Goodness Mark! What's gotten into you?!”
“You and your coworkers have threatened everything I hold hear. Lillian betrayed us. I'm certain you have too. Sit in that chair now. And no funny business.”
Sitting obediently in the chair, Carmen tried to hide her trembling hands. “I-I didn't do anything!” she stammered.
Mark rolled his eyes. “I don't believe you. Tell me what you know about Lillian. ALL of it.”
“I-I don't know. We met in college a-and became friends. Th-that's all I know! Honest!”
“She never mentioned The Black Ring or a computer chip?” Mark pestered.
Carmen seemed genuinely shocked and bewildered. “The what? Mark I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Mark leaned against the cave wall. His gun was wavering. “I still d-don't trust you. And for that you'll have to stay here.”
Meanwhile, Lillian had a rude awakening planned for his prisoners. Striding over to the cell he loudly rattled the bars on the door. “Rise and shine sleeping beauties!” she mocked. “It's time for your little video chat.”
Catherine was the first to arouse and she nudged Sandra before glaring at Lillian. “Well look who it is,” she muttered as Juhotta strolled in behind Lillian.
“Oh good they're both awake. Lillian, tie them up,” he ordered.
Lillian stepped forward and roughly yanked Catherine to her feet, wrenched her arms behind her back and began to tie her hands together. Catherine did not give up without a fight. Knowing that Lillian would be going for Sandra next, she struggled to buy some time, though for what she did not know. “No! No stop!” she cried, managing a kick on Lillian's knee.
The woman gasped in pain as Juhotta jerked Catherine towards him and slammed her against the concrete wall before delivering a rock solid punch to her jaw. He then grabbed her by the throat and leaned in close, his face seething with anger. “You think this will save your little friend and your brother? Well it won't,” he hissed.
Lillian turned to Sandra and tied her up, badly wrenching the doctor's already wounded shoulder. Sandra bit her lip to keep from crying out but tears of pain began to trickle down her cheeks. Pushing her captive towards the cell door, she ran into Juhotta.
He turned around with an evil grin. “Shoulder doing ok this morning dearie?” He asked shoving her away from him in the wounded extremity. Sandra nearly passed out from the pain. Juhotta rolled his eyes. “Let's take them to the Conference Room Lillian,” he directed, “and make sure they are secure.”
Pushing their prisoners down the hall in front of them, Lillian made sure Catherine could feel the muzzle of the gun barrel pressed against her back. Both girls tried to study the hallways, looking for any possible routes for escape, as well as try to map out where they were in their minds. Lillian's sharp eyes noticed what they were trying to do. “None of that now!” she snapped, jabbing Catherine with her pistol. It didn't take them long to arrive at the Conference Room.
Both Juhotta and Lillian forced Sandra and Catherine to sit on two wooden chairs which were facing a table with a camera and computer. They were swiftly and roughly tied to the furniture. Both hands and feet were bound. Lillian looked over the two frightened girls thoughtfully. “Juhotta, is this strictly business or could we add a bit of entertainment to this video-chat?” she asked hopefully.
“I think some fun will probably be in order,” Juhotta sneered, turning to Catherine and Sandra. “Listen up you two, and listen closely. You will not speak unless spoken to and you will not make any attempts to be difficult. Any trespassing of these rules will result in serious consequences. Got it?”
Sandra meekly nodded while Catherine glared menacingly at their captors. Lillian stepped behind the camera. “Ok Juhotta, ready when you are,” she announced, once the camera was hooked up to the computer. “Hope he has Skype.”
“I'm sure,” Juhotta sighed as his accomplice tried to call Mark.
Chapter 4
Kelsey jumped as a sound resembling a ringtone was emitted from Mark's computer. “Someone's calling you Mark,” she announced.
Mark mumbled something under his breath and answered the ring, expecting to see the face of his boss at Cobolt. Kelsey screamed at the sight that met her eyes and slammed the lid shut. Mark's eyes hadn't had a change to register the sight and he opened the computer lid again. “What? What is it?” he was asking. His answer was not long in coming. Mark gasped, going rigid. His knuckles gripped the table so hard his knuckles were white. The sudden jolt his body made sent shockwaves of pain coursing through his body.
“Hello Captain,” Juhotta was saying, a sneer etched on his face. “Nice catch I found, eh?” he ran a finger down the side of Sandra's cheek and Mark could literally see the blood drain from her already pale face.
“NO! Sandra! Catherine!” Mark yelled. No!” he bent double as pain gripped him. “AGH!” he cried out desperately.
Tears were rolling down Kelsey's cheeks as Frank looked on grimly. “Oh dear God no,” she begged. Her dad was shaking in anger.
“Let me make this short and sweet,” Juhotta continued, ignoring Mark's outburst. “I now have your friend and sister, Holbrook. I hold their lives in my hands. And if you ever want to see them alive again, you will pay close attention to what I am about to say. You have twelve hours to be in St. Petersburg with the computer chip. Don't bother calling for back up or the deal's off. I'll be waiting, Holbrook,” Juhotta laughed evilly.
Sandra suddenly glanced at Catherine, then at the camera. Her blue eyes were wide with terror. “No! It's a trap Mark, don't come! Find some way else! You-” her desperate warning was suddenly cut off as Juhotta's fist slammed into her face and the camera clicked off.
“NO! NO!” Mark cried. “I've failed them!” He crumpled to the ground in agony, struggling to catch his breath and finding that he couldn't. He immediately began to panic and that only made the situation worse.
“Dylan!” Kelsey called as she pushed aside her own fear for the moment. “Hand me that oxygen mask and get him a painkiller now!” she demanded. “Oh Mark hang in there buddy hang on,” she begged.
Dylan raced to fetch the items and Kelsey placed the mask over Mark's face. As soon as his pain lessened a bit, they could make out the words Mark was groaning over and over. “N-no...no. No...th-this wasn't supposed t-to happen....” he mumbled repeatedly. “I-I've failed them!”
“Mark listen. Take it easy,” Kelsey urged as she inserted an IV and hastily gave Mark a sedative.
“N-No! Please!” Mark begged weakly, trying feebly to get up.
“No no no. Stay down Mark ok?” Dylan directed as he gently probed Mark's stomach. “He's spiked the infection with all this moving around and stress,” he sighed.
Kelsey eyed the two boxes, trying to ignore the growing fear for Sandra she was feeling. “Dylan we really don't have that much medical stuff here,” she sighed.
“See what we have,” Dylan suggested. “We have got to do something.”
Hastening over to the boxes, Kelsey rummaged around them. “Um...hey! I found the drain. Is he that bad off?”
“Please no!” Mark gasped desperately at Kelsey's announcement. He tried again to get up.
“Mark you have got to calm down! We're just trying to help. Dylan, what do you think?” Kelsey asked again.
Dylan bit his lip, clearly torn. “I-I don't know,” he finally admitted. “You have more experience than I do. What do you think?”
Kelsey bent down next to Mark and tried to figure out how bad off he was as the pilot writhed underneath her hands in discomfort. “Mark listen to me,” she finally spoke. “As long as you promise to settle down and behave I'll not use the drain and try a hefty dose of antibiotics instead. That may clear things up on it's own.”
“Pl-please! H-hafta go!” Mark moaned. “C-Catherine...S-Sandra...” his pained voice trailed off in a groan.
“You heard her Mark. Settle down. Back to bed,” Dylan replied quietly as he gently scooped up the pilot and carried him back to the cot.
“N-no I can't!” Mark protested weakly as his friend lay him down. “I've g-got twelve hours to be in St. Petersburg. I have to get up!”
Frank rolled his wheelchair over to Mark. “Easy Mark easy,” he soothed as Kelsey gave him another dose of sedative and administered the antibiotics through his IV. Mark seemed to settle a bit at his words.
Kelsey turned to Dylan and gestured for him to follow her outside. “Yes? What is it?” he asked tiredly.
“What are we going to do?!” Kelsey asked, exasperated. “Mark is too sick to fly anywhere! I don't think anyone would even let him on a plane anyhow! Plus...S-Sandra said it was a trap.”
Dylan raked his hand through his shaggy brown hair nervously. “I-I don't know. I agree with everything you're saying but we can't just leave them there. And I feel like Mark will run off if we don't let him go, no matter how sick he is.”
“Of course he'll sneak off! He's too stubborn for his own good!” Kelsey sounded rather irritated.
“He is quite determined isn't he,” Dylan sighed. “I-I'm way out of my league here. H-he seems certain he has to do this.”
“That's what bothers me!” Kelsey huffed. “He obviously knows something we don't but he's not thinking clearly and it's going to get him killed!”
“I should never have let him leave the hospital. I should have just kept him comatose.” Dylan was pacing restlessly now.
Kelsey took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “There are some things we cannot control. We don't know the future Dylan,” she finally replied, more for herself than for her friend. “But ever since Mark arrived, my life has been a roller coaster ride.”
“Try knowing him all your life. Actually, I take that back. I've never known this side of Mark ever. The Mark I knew would never have risked his life or broken the rules, or done any of this.” Dylan went silent a moment before speaking again. “I guess we should get back to him.”
While Kelsey and Dylan had been outside talking, Mark was doing some serious thinking of his own. His head turned to face Frank. “Frank, quick while they're occupied, help me up. W-we can get out of here. Just you and me.”
Frank swallowed hard. “M-Mark I can't do that. You have to give the medicine time to work. And,” he lowered his voice. “Carmen's in here.”
“Frank...please...she's my sister...” Mark's voice was faint as the drugs began to pull him under.
“Oh Mark. I know. But I simply cannot let you go at this moment.” Frank's voice caught in his throat as he thought of Sandra.
Mark's eyes closed despite his efforts. His breathing was ragged and harsh and Frank replaced the mask over his face. Mark didn't even stir or rouse when Kelsey and Dylan returned.
Juhotta was seething with rage as he glared at Sandra, breathing hard with anger. He brought his fist around for another punch and it landed with a solid smack. Sandra's teeth clicked together at the impact and she slumped over in her chair, nearly unconscious.
“No! Stop it! Leave her alone!” Catherine cried.
Juhotta turned his head to look at her and backhanded her so hard that the chair was toppled over. Catherine hit her head on the concrete floor and was instantly knocked out. “Great punch Juhotta!” Lillian grinned while Sandra moaned, helpless to do anything to defend herself or Catherine.
Rolling his eyes, Juhotta grunted, getting over his anger just a bit. “He'll still come. She did nothing to hinder him coming for them. Take them back to their cell Lillian. I have a boss to talk to.” He walked out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.
Lillian sighed and untied the prisoners from their chairs before dragging them back to their cell, leaving their hands tied. Sandra groaned as she left, trying to struggle out of the unyielding ropes. Beside her, Catherine lay, still unconscious, her head bleeding profusely from the new wound. Easing herself over to her sister, Sandra attempted to use her hands to stem the flow of blood, though it was hard because her hands were tied behind her back and she couldn't see what she was doing.
At the pressure, Catherine groaned and began to wake up. “Shh, shhh take it easy,” Sandra tried to soothe her but her face was so swollen from the punches that it sounded like her mouth was full of cotton and it was hard to understand. Sandra grimaced at the resulting pain which only increased it. Catherine tried to open her eyes but the harsh yellow light above seemed to drill into her skull and she quickly shut them again. She whimpered softly as she attempted to roll onto her side.
“C-Catherine, stop....moving,” Sandra mumbled, feeling warm blood ooze between her fingers and trickle down her hand. “H-hafta stop the b-bleeding.” Talking was incredibly painful.
Catherine groaned. “S-so d-dizzy!” she gasped.
“P-probably have a concussion. Try to s-stay awake. S-Sorry C-Catherine. Had to warn th-them.”
“Y-yeah. Kinda remember that,” Catherine mumbled.
“Well I'm glad you don't have amnesia. I can't feel my hands anymore. They've gone numb,” Sandra replied after a few minutes. The pain in her jaw had been so intense that she was forced to only talk in a few short sentences at a time.
“H-here. I might be able to untie them without looking,” Catherine offered as she slowly sat up, trying to fight off the waves of nauseating dizziness.
“D-don't be moving around! I'll be f-fine.”
“s'ok,” Catherine mumbled. “We'll be b-better off untied anyway.” Her shaking hands fumbled with Sandra's knots.
Sandra did her best to position her hands in an easier position for Catherine to get to. “Better?” she asked hopefully. Catherine didn't answer as she struggled to concentrate on loosening the knotted rope. “Come on Catherine. You can do it!” Sandra tried to encourage her sister.
Finally, Catherine managed to untie them enough for Sandra to get free. “Got it!” she announced weakly.
Pulling her hands apart, Sandra began to rub and flex them vigorously. “Thanks. I'll untie you as soon as I get some feeling back in my fingers,” she promised. Catherine closed her eyes and leaned back against the hard wall, unknowingly leaving a bloodstain. Sandra tried to stifle a groan as her fingers began to tingle as they regained their usual blood supply. “Ok I'm ready,” she told her sister.
Catherine's eyes flickered open and she look at Sandra's hands which were covered in drying blood. “That's my blood isn't it?” she murmured weakly.
Sandra nodded. “Yeah. I don't want you moving any more. It's still bleeding and we need to stop it. Want me to or you?” the pain in her mouth was nearly unbearable, but Sandra's only thoughts were for her sister.
“You can do the honors,” Catherine managed with the weakest of grins.
Nodding again, Sandra fumbled with her sleeve until she had ripped it off. Folding it, she pressed it firmly against the ugly gash on Catherine's head. “Ahh!” Catherine gasped as she flinched away from the new source of pain.
Sandra's eyes filled with sympathy. “Sorry...I'm sorry. G-gotta stop the bleeding th-though." Catherine grit her teeth and tried to remain still. After a few long minutes that felt like a lifetime to Catherine, the bleeding finally stopped. Sandra carefully removed the cloth. “It's finally clotted but I don't want you moving around, alright?”
“Don't have to tell me twice,” Catherine mumbled. “If I move I think I might throw up. How's your face? He punched you pretty hard. You've got a black eye.”
“It feels pretty swollen and hurts something fierce to talk,” Sandra admitted, “but I guess it was worth it.”
“That was really brave of you Sandra but I don't think Mark will listen,” Catherine sighed.
“I just hope he stays safe,” Sandra replied.
“How is he?” Dylan asked quietly as he walked back into the cave with Kelsey.
“Well he's nearly asleep but he's still all tensed up,” Frank sighed.
“I was afraid of that,” Dylan answered, watching as Mark groaned and lashed out in his half conscious state.
“Mark? It's ok pal. Just take it easy,” Frank encouraged.
“That's right. You need to relax,” Dylan added.
Mark would have none of it and continued to struggle. His breathing was visibly irregular. Kelsey lay her hand on his shoulder. “Mark do you need another painkiller?” she asked. Mark went still but remained tense.
“Boy what a mess we're in,” Dylan muttered under his breath.
“I'll say,” Kelsey muttered back. She watched Mark in silence for a bit before taking a shaky breath. “I-I need a minute.”
Dylan looked after her worriedly as his friend made a quick exit out of the cave. “Think she's ok?” he asked aloud.
Frank sighed. “There's one thing about Kelsey you should know. She's extremely loyal and protective of her friends. Now that her best friend Sandra has been captured she's really struggling to keep herself together. She's under a lot of stress. I'm surprised she hasn't yelled at one of us yet. When her friends are in danger she gets really upset. I'm sorry if she's been a bit...short.”
Dylan shrugged. “We all have our moments,” he replied as he pat Mark's shoulder. “What are we going to do about him?” he asked quietly, seeing that Mark was finally asleep.
“For now I guess we just wait and see if the antibiotics are doing anything. But could I please try to walk now? I'm SO tired of sitting in this chair!”
“I think that would be ok.” Dylan turned to Carmen. “You did shut down the hospital for now didn't you?”
“Of course! No patients were there anyway. I'm not irresponsible in that sense,” she added.
Dylan sighed. “Watch Mark. And if you try anything, Bella here will bite you. He can't go anywhere anyway.”
Frank put the brakes on his wheelchair and clumsily began to push himself out of the chair. Dylan stepped forward to help. “Easy Frank. I think we'll take a little walk outside, see if we can find Kelsey.”
With Dylan's assistance, Frank managed to remain upright, keeping most of the weight off of his knee though as he was hesitant on letting it bear his full weight. “Wow I'm quite unsteady,” he noted, a bit embarrassed.
“It's completely normal Frank. You're injured and have been off of it for quite awhile. Let's just take it slow and easy I'm right here if you need me. Where do you think Kelsey went?”
Frank ungracefully took a few wobbly steps, relieved when his knee didn't pain him as much as he thought it was going to. “There's no telling where she went but the creek's a good bet.”
“Probably,” Dylan agreed. “That's were I went when I needed some space.”
The two men made their way out of the cave and towards the creek. The going was slow and tedious for Frank as he struggled with his walking. His limp was quite pronounced and that didn't help matters either. “Take it slow Frank,” Dylan encouraged. “Don't want to overdo it. Let me know if it hurts.”
“Well...” Frank grunted. “My knee certainly does not feel the best but goodness it feels so nice to be walking again.”
Dylan nodded and scanned the creek area for Kelsey. It didn't take long to spot her. “There she is,” he announced.
Frank nodded. “Yeah that's her. I-I hate seeing her so upset like this.” his voice suddenly grew husky.
“Do you want a minute alone?” Dylan asked.
“I don't know,” Frank shrugged. “She looks pretty upset.”
Just then, Kelsey looked up and spotted them. “Hey,” she mumbled.
Dylan smiled. “Hey Kelsey. You alright?” He helped Frank sit on a rock and then sat on the other side of Kelsey.
“Why do you ask?” Kelsey questioned.
“Oh I don't know,” Dylan replied sarcastically but in a gentle tone of voice. “Maybe because you're sitting out here alone and look like you've been crying? Look Kelsey. You're my friend and I'm worried about you.” Kelsey heaved a heavy sigh and mumbled a thanks. “So what's wrong?” Dylan pressed.
“I-I'm just really worried,” Kelsey admitted.
“I know you are. Sandra?”
Kelsey stared at her shoes. “Yeah.” When she looked up again there were tears brimming in her eyes. “Did you see her face?! There was something terribly wrong and I couldn't do anything about it! And then she tried to warn us a-and...” Kelsey choked back a sob, trying desperately not to cry. “All I can do is sit here and worry,” she continued after a moment of silence.
“I know. I'm trying to come up with something,” Dylan replied.
Kelsey sighed. “I'm sorry I haven't been myself lately. I'm just really stressed out. But that's not a very good excuse because we all are and I'm no exception.”
“Hey. You have every right to be concerned and worried. We're all here for each other. Dylan and I are both here for you Kelsey,” Frank reminded.
“Thank you.” Kelsey took a deep, calming breath. “We should probably head back now.”
Chapter 5
Back in the cave, Mark shuddered as his breathing sped up. Carmen looked over and noticed his iPod sitting on the little stool they were using for a nightstand. She left her chair and turned on some music, hoping that would help him. Mark groaned as his eyes flickered open.
“Do you want some different music?” Carmen asked. “I don't know what you like.”
Mark shook his head. “H-help me up,” he rasped.
“Sorry, I can't do that Mark,” Carmen apologized.
“Sure you can. Just help me out of this bloody bed!” Mark insisted.
“No, I can't. I'm sorry but your friend would have my head,” Carmen replied firmly.
“Fine,” Mark huffed. “I'm perfectly capable without your assistance.” He sat up slowly, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the pain.
“Mark you need to lie down!”
“I'm fine!” Mark snapped. “What do you know anyway? You worked for my enemy. How do I know you haven't put poison in my IV or something?!”
Carmen put her hands on her hips. “If I had wanted to kill you I would have done it already. I don't think you understand. I had no clue what was going on. I'm sorry we caused so much trouble. I don't want to hurt or kill you.”
“I should like to see you try,” grunted Mark irritably as he swung his legs over the side of the bed as he prepared to get up.
Gently, Carmen tried to push him back down. “Hey, none of that now. Your friends don't want you up. I'm not the bad guy here but believe me, I can be just as stubborn as you,” she remarked decidedly. “Don't make me put the restraints on you.”
“You couldn't even if you wished!” Mark huffed as he pushed her hands away and stood up.
Carmen pulled out her phone. “If you leave this cave I'm calling the police,” she warned.
Before she could blink, Mark had knocked the phone out of Carmen's hands and kicked it under the bed. “Oh will you now?” he challenged.
“Look at yourself!” Carmen half shouted, now angry. “You are in no condition to go anywhere or do anything! No one would even let you on a plane!”
“Not if I fly myself. Listen. My sister and friend are out there in the hands of psychopaths because of me. I'm going to rescue them or die trying. This isn't about the chip anymore. It's become personal.”
“You can't just waltz over there and demand they be returned to you! I mean come on! Be reasonable Mark!”
Mark inched towards the cave's exit. “Just try and stop me,” he challenged.
Carmen jumped in front of him and planted herself in front of the doorway. “Oh yeah?” With more force than Carmen could imagine from someone as sick as Mark, he shoved her out of the way. “How dare you?!” Carmen yelped. “Just quit being so stubborn won't you?!”
“I have to do this!” Mark insisted.
“Mark!” Frank's exclamation of surprise sounded from behind both of them. Mark turned and found Kelsey, Dylan and Frank coming up to the cave entrance. “Mark what are you doing up?!”
“Yeah,” Dylan echoed. “Carmen I thought I told you to watch him. Mark Holbrook get back in bed!”
Mark shook his head. “No Dylan, I have to go. Nothing you do can stop me.”
Kelsey sighed. “Guess we're all along for the ride then,” she mumbled under her breath as Dylan discreetly pressed the syringe of sedative into her hand. “Mark,” she called, cautiously approaching her friend who was now leaning against the wall of the cave. “Can't you listen to us for once? We have no intention of letting our friends be harmed or killed. We just have to come up with a plan.”
“N-no. I have to go. I-I'm running out of t-time. They're running out of time.” His last words ended in a groan of pain.
Kelsey only hesitated an instant. With a lightening quick movement, she injected the sedative into Mark's arm. A shocked look appeared on Mark's face. “K-Kelsey no...” he stammered, gripping his head as he felt the tug of the powerful drugs. A few seconds more and he was swaying unsteadily.
Gently, Kelsey helped Mark into a sitting position against the wall. “Mark it's just for your own good. I'm so sorry,” she apologized.
“N-no please.....” Mark's voice trailed off as his eyes closed.
“Mark just relax,” Kelsey encouraged. “You'll be fine.” she looked up just as Frank stumbled and nearly fell. He would have if Dylan hadn't been standing right there and caught him.
“Whoa Frank, take it easy. Here, sit down in this chair. Kelsey? Could you and Carmen please get Mark back into bed?” Dylan asked.
Kelsey nodded as she and Carmen carefully brought Mark back to bed.
“Catherine? Catherine come on, you need to stay awake,” Sandra urged.
“Why?” Catherine mumbled groggily.
“Because I think you have a concussion,” her sister explained patiently.
Catherine yawned. “Oh I'm certain I probably do but I'm so...so tired.”
Sandra nudged Catherine gently. “You can't though. If you fall asleep it could induce a coma.”
“I-I'll try not to,” Catherine mumbled, trying to get her eyes to focus on something so she wouldn't get sick.
Sandra eyed her with concern. “You ok sis?”
“Y-yeah. Just feeling really nauseated.” She shifted uncomfortable as Sandra continued to watch her worriedly. “Don't just sit there with that look on your face! You're scaring me!”
“Well what do you want me to do? Get up and start doing jumping jacks?” Sandra asked, trying to ease the tension.
“If you so choose to,” Catherine answered with a weak smile.
“Well I would be more than happy to accept the challenge but I believe my arm would protest,” Sandra replied.
The small cell went quiet for a while. Finally Catherine sighed. “Do you think everyone is ok? I'm really worried about Mark. He didn't look so well. I hope they don't do something stupid trying to save us.”
“I don't know but that thought is going to be the end of me,” Sandra admitted. “Who knows what they'll do.”
“Hey at least you have a family that loves you.” Catherine sounded almost jealous.
“You do too!” Sandra retorted, shocked.
“What, you think my mom and brother even care I'm here? They both hate me. Well...I guess they technically aren't family since we discovered we're sisters but still...I grew up with them.”
“Well obviously Mark cares about you. Didn't you see his face?”
“Oh I meant Stewart,” Catherine explained. “Mark is in this mess because of his duty. Not me.”
Sandra sighed. “Well I care about you,” she assured her sister.
“Yeah I know. Thanks. We've got to find a way out of here.”
“But how?” Sandra asked. “We're being closely watched.”
“I don't know but I'll think of something...” Catherine's eyes were drifting shut.
“Hey! No falling asleep!” Sandra reminded, nudging her.
“Ugh! I'm so tired!” Catherine exclaimed.
“I know but you've got to stay awake. Why don't you tell me some things about your childhood? I mean most of my life I've never known you,” Sandra suggested.
“Ummm....well there's not really much to tell.”
“Well let's talk about something. You need to stay awake.”
Catherine thought a moment. “Well...I remember when I was little, Mark used to tell me about all the wonderful countries he read about in his books.”
“And what was his favorite?” Sandra asked curiously.
A slight smile crossed over Catherine's face. “He loved India. The elephants and spices fascinated him.”
Sandra laughed. “Elephants? Those remind me of circuses...which remind me of clowns. I'm deathly afraid of clowns.”
“I've never liked circuses. Dad tried to leave Mark at one once.”
“Why was he so mean?!” Sandra's eyes widened in shock.
“I think it was because Mark was a dreamer. He had a passion and a dream he was constantly following and Dad was just an electrician. He couldn't stand it that Mark had something to cling to.”
Sandra was silent a moment. “That's terrible,” she finally whispered.
“Yeah well, that's life,” Catherine shrugged.
“But still! Some things people should never have to go through.”
“And yet it never brought him down. I remember asking him once when he was in the hospital after he was pushed out the second story window. He said that he had far too much to do to let something like that get in the way.” Tears were starting to trickle down Catherine's pale cheeks.
Sandra gasped. “Poor Mark! No wonder he can be so stubborn!”
“Yeah. He was kinda the bright spot in my life growing up. I practically had to raise him and I by myself until Dad kicked him out.”
Sandra stared at the floor. “I'm so sorry. That must have been hard.”
“Eh well, I think that's why Mark and I are so strong. You too. We've come from hard situations in our lives.”
“I try not to let my hard side show. But sometimes I slip up. Dylan and I had a run-in earlier,” Sandra sighed.
“I heard. It's ok,” Catherine assured her. “We all have our moments. Can I sleep now?”
Sandra hesitated. “I don't know. We should probably wait a bit longer, just to be on the safe side.”
“If only they'd let us have a book or something!” Catherine huffed.
“Kelsey and I used to make up stories together,” Sandra answered, her eyes taking on a faraway look.
“Mark told me you guys always made him stories when he was having a hard time with his PTSD,” Catherine replied.
Sandra gulped. “He told you that? They were pretty dumb and silly. Guess they were pretty entertaining though.”
“Oh they were. At least from what he told me. But then again he was half drugged up when he told me.” Catherine laughed at the memory, then winced at the pain it brought.
The two girls went quiet again. After a little while, Sandra gave Catherine the ok to sleep and they both quickly drifted off to dreamland.
Dylan sighed as he checked on Mark for what seemed like the millionth time. “What are we going to do?” he asked rather helplessly.
“We've got to find some way to rescue them! Mark will go crazy if something happened to either of them. So will I,” Kelsey added under her breath.
“I'll help you come up with something but can I get a painkiller? My knee is killing me,” Frank piped in.
“Oh Sorry Frank, here's some aspirin,” Dylan told his friend as he handed him the drugs. “If we don't let Mark go he will just escape and hurt himself. He agreed to let us help but I can't even begin to think of what we could do to assist him or the situation in any way.”
“Well, no one would let him on a plane and I'm sure he thinks he could fly but I doubt he could. You are a pilot Dylan...” Kelsey hinted.
“I'm not worried about that. It's once we get there. That's the part I'm worried about.”
“It just feels like we're walking into a trap. I don't know either. Any way we look at it this whole thing is a bad idea.”
“I-I have a pl-plan,” Mark mumbled from the cot.
Frank looked at him half scoldingly. “Mark you're supposed to be asleep!”
“C-can't sleep when you guys are talking so much and I can't s-sleep when my sister and friend are in danger,” Mark replied.
“We're just trying to come up with a game plan,” Kelsey sighed.
“I am the one they want. I have what they want and the only way we are going to get them back is to give them what they want, which is me. But I'm not going without a fight. That's why I've come up with a plan. There's a stuffed otter in my flight bag.”
“A what?” Kelsey asked, completely confused and upset at the current issue at hand. Mark how is an otter going to help?”
“It's not the otter I want. It's what's inside. I had a fake but identical chip created and put in there for emergencies. I will simply let it fall into their hands, creating a distraction. That should give you guys, whom they won't know you're there, time to break in and find Sandra and Catherine, getting them out before they discover I've given them a fake,” Mark explained.
Dylan hesitated. “I-I don't know if that will work. I hate to think of you putting yourself in danger. But it's the best thing we've got I suppose...”
“Well if you had just given me a chance to explain everything instead of sedating me,” Mark glared at Kelsey, “we wouldn't have had a problem. Now I'm on some heavy medication right now and I know we have a very limited supply so we can't be dilly dallying before this infection spikes again, if it even does.” Mark stood up slowly and limped to the table.
“I gave him a pretty heavy dose of painkillers,” Kelsey told Dylan quietly. “I think that's why he's so perky. We don't have hardly any left. I was gonna head back to get some more but I don't think we're gonna have time now.”
“Well then what are we waiting for? We only have nine hours left,” Frank announced. “Let's go. Carmen, you coming?”
Carmen shook her head fiercely. “No way. I've just about had it with all of you. I don't want to be put in harm's way like that! I promise if you let me go I'll stay quiet.”
Mark hesitated. “Fine. But you're coming with us at least to the airport. We'll let you go there.” He picked up his flight bag. “Ok, I was unconscious when you brought me here so I have no clue where I am.”
Frank actually grinned, happy to see a bit of the old Mark back. “You're in Sandra's cave. Hey Dylan or Kelsey, do one of you mind pushing me in the wheelchair? That painkiller hasn't kicked in yet and I don't think I'll be able to walk out of here like I'd hoped.”
“Yeah sure. Kelsey, lead the way,” Dylan instructed as the group made their way out of the cave.
The walk back to the Silver Springs Airport took a while since Mark had to take it slow and Frank was confined to his wheelchair. Carmen followed meekly without complaint until they reached the airport where she quickly walked away without a word. Mark immediately climbed into the plane, sitting in the captain's chair.
“Whoa, no. Not so fast Mark,” Dylan told him firmly. “You're still very sick. You are going to sit in the back with Kelsey and take it easy. Frank will be here with me as co-pilot. Kelsey, go ahead and give him that medicine if he needs it. I know it's the last one but I still want him to be treated while we're flying. We have that oxygen tank and the supplies for the IV you brought along.”
“You hear that Mark? No protesting this time,” Kelsey smiled as she ushered Mark to the seats in the back.
“Alright,” Mark sighed as he consented. His breathing was a bit labored.
Kelsey handed him the oxygen mask. “Use this,” she encouraged. “You need to keep your strength up.”
Mark took it reluctantly, slipped it over his face and leaned his head back as he tried to fall asleep, knowing what she had said was true.
Dylan sat in the captain's seat after doing the pre-flight check and Frank hobbled to the adjacent one, sitting down with a grunt. “Barbara's gonna kill us,” he reminded grimly.
“I'll take the heat for it. We have to get the girls back.” Dylan started the plane and took off smoothly. “Next stop, St. Petersburg.”
Catherine groaned and opened her eyes. “S-Sandra?” she mumbled groggily.
Sandra sat up, sleepily rubbing her eyes. “Hmm?”
“J-just making sure you're still here.”
“Well it's not like I could walk out of here,” Sandra replied, smiling a bit.
“How long do you think we've been in here?” Catherine asked.
Sandra shrugged. “I have no clue. Time flies when you're having fun,” she remarked sarcastically.
“Goodness my head hurts. How's your shoulder?”
“It's killing me. My jaw too. Might be fractured, I don't know,” Sandra sighed.
“When we get out of here, I vote on a long trip to the beach,” Catherine replied decidedly.
“I've always wanted to go to Scotland or England,” Sandra answered.
“I-I know it sounds awful but I would like to visit my real mom and dad's graves.”
Sandra sighed. “I know what you mean.” Then she smiled a bit. “My English must be rubbing off on you. You said mom.”
“Maybe, my head's not really together at the moment.”
“I can't blame you,” Sandra assured her. “You got knocked out twice.”
“Yeah I know. My head hurts so badly.” Catherine leaned back against the concrete wall and closed her eyes.
Sandra bit her lip, eyeing her sister with concern. “I'm supposed to be a doc and I can't even do anything!”
“I-it's ok,” Catherine mumbled. “I'm sure it's nothing a little ibuprofen couldn't fix.”
“We don't even have that,” Sandra sighed. “I could ask...”
“No! Knowing them you'll just get punched again and I don't want anyone to ever hurt you again if I can help it.”
“Same. That's why I offered,” Sandra replied quietly.
“I'll be fine. It hurts me more to see you hurt,” remarked Catherine.
“Well I feel the same way!”
Catherine took Sandra's hand and squeezed it gently. “I'm ok. I promise.”
Sandra smiled. “We'll get out of here one way or another.”
“I tried to find a possible escape route when we were brought out earlier but it was kinda hard.”
“Me too. I didn't have any luck. Did anything look promising to you?” Sandra asked hopefully.
“It could've just been me but I may have seen an emergency exit on the south side of the building. But that would require us getting out of here first.”
Sandra slowly got to her feet and picked up the two pieces of rope that were lying on the floor. “We have these,” she reminded.
“What could we do with them?” Catherine asked, examining the objects.
A mischievous smile briefly crossed over Sandra's face. “Well...we could use them to hang a particular someone...”
“Boy I think I'd like that very much,” Catherine smirked back.
“I knew you would. That's why I said it.” Sandra glanced out of the bars of the cell. “Don't see any keys lying around do you?”
“No, Lillian and Juhotta are dumb but not that dumb.”
Sandra sighed. “It always seems to happen in storybooks. Maybe I read too much. I get wild ideas.”
Catherine smiled a bit. “It's good to have those dreams to hold on to.”
“Yes, but let's stay on topic. I don't think there's much we can do with this rope.”
“Well duh, I thought we had always established that.”
“I think we've hit a dead end here,” Sandra replied, sitting back down next to her sister.
“Yeah, it would seem so. I'm sorry.”
“No matter.” Sandra went quiet for awhile. Finally she sighed. “Boy I'm so thirsty!”
“Me too. Help me up.”
Sandra got to her feet and gave Catherine her hand to help her up. “What do you need?” she asked, puzzled.
“I'm gonna see if anyone understands the meaning of the term room service,” Catherine answered decidedly.
Sandra gulped. “That might be a bad idea.”
“It'll be fine. HEY!” she yelled loudly into the corridor. “What's a girl got to do for a drink around here?”
It took a few minutes of yelling but finally footsteps could be heard and Lillian appeared around the corner, looking mad. “How many times do I have to tell you to HUSH?” she snapped.
Catherine faked a laugh. “How about being a dear and fetching my pal and I some water?”
Lillian thought a moment. “Hmm...” she considered. “Maybe. It has been awhile.” without another word, she left.
“There now that's more like it!” Catherine gave Sandra a triumphant grin. “See? Told you. No trouble at all.” Sandra just shook her head worriedly.
Lillian returned a few minutes later with two plastic cups when she saw the ropes and realized they were free, her face darkened. “No water for you,” she snapped, letting some of it drip temptingly on the ground.
“Please,” Sandra begged, her eyes glued to the cup. “We're sorry. Please...just...we're so thirsty.”
“Juhotta did say not to kill you and I guess dehydration can do that so...fine,” Lillian consented, handing the cup to Sandra through the bars.
Sandra grabbed it and gulped the water greedily. Suddenly she began to gag and sputter, seeming like she was going to throw up.
“What did you do to her?!” Catherine yelled.
“I gave her water, just like she wanted,” Lillian replied, an evil smirk on her lips as she eyed Sandra who was bent over, gripping the bars of the cell so hard that her knuckles were white as she continued to choke on what she had just swallowed. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Sandra throw it up. She's put something toxic in it. You've got to throw it up!” Catherine coaxed her sister gently, trying to soothe her all while giving Lillian death glares.
Unable to talk, Sandra just shook her head, gasping. Lillian rolled her eyes and left the way she had come.
“You have to trust me Sandra. I promise it will stop if you just throw it up.” Catherine wrapped her arms comfortingly around her sister.
“N-not p-p-poison!” Sandra managed to reply. “S-salt. So m-much salt!”
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. “At least it won't kill you. Deep breaths Sandra. Just hang in there,” she encouraged as she helped Sandra to sit and rubbed her back gently.
Sandra seemed to be over the worst of her torment now. “S-sorry. Just didn't expect half a gallon of salt in my drink.”
“Goodness that woman is sick. And we still don't have any water,” Catherine muttered.
Chapter 6
About two hours into the flight, Dylan finally seemed to settle down and relax a bit. “Boy it's been way too long,” he mused, looking out into the vastness of the blue sky.
Frank nodded in agreement. “You'd think after two plane crashes I'd be terrified to fly but I'm not.”
“I guess I see why Mark loves it so much up here. It's so peaceful up here.”
“It is,” Frank grinned slightly, turning when he heard footsteps. “Oh hey Kelsey, what's up?”
“Hey. Um, Dylan, Mark's pain meds are wearing off so I think I'm going to give him another dose.”
“Alright, just make sure you use it sparingly. We have hardly any left,” Dylan sighed.
With a nod, Kelsey turned around and headed back into the cabin where Mark was. “Why don't you try to take another nap?” she suggested, injecting the medicine into his IV line. “I know it's hard but it would do you a world of good.”
Mark nodded, seeming to quiet a bit as the painkillers began to kick in. Kelsey sat next to him and closed her eyes as well, trying to ignore the beginning signs of the motion sickness that she was so prone to.
In the cockpit, the tension had returned. Dylan gripped the controls a little tighter. “I don't like this,” he muttered.
Frank was immediately on alert. “What? Don't like what?” he asked anxiously, instinctively looking around for danger.
“I'm worried about all this...Mark and the girls. I don't like them being in danger like this.”
“Me too,” Frank agreed, settling back in his seat. “Kelsey loves adventure and all but I'm afraid this is not the kind she should be experiencing.”
Dylan sighed. “I hate not being in control.”
“Don't we all? How long until we get there?”
“Approximately five hours but we do have the tail wind right now,” Dylan replied, checking his watch and gauges.
A worried look crossed Frank's face. “We're going to be cutting it extremely close here with this deadline Lillian gave us.”
“I'm afraid to think of what will happen if we miss it,” Dylan admitted. The small cockpit fell silent once more.
In the cabin, Mark's groan woke Kelsey from her light doze. She glanced at him, taking note that his eyes were a little glassy and unfocused. “Mark? You ok?” she asked, hoping his fever hadn't returned.
Mark shook his head, nudging off the oxygen mask. “Stomach h-hurts,” he mumbled.
“I know how you feel,” Kelsey sighed, trying to swallow back the wave of nausea that crashed over her.
“Y-you think so?” Mark's voice was rather sarcastic.
“Well...maybe not. But I feel pretty lousy.” Kelsey closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything but what she felt like doing which was throwing up. Her eyes flew open again a minute later though, as Mark suddenly scrambled up and made a mad dash for the bathroom. Upon locking the door, he collapsed to his knees, throwing up violently in the toilet.
Kelsey picked herself off the seat and went to the closed door of the bathroom. “Mark? Are you ok? Do you need something for the nausea? I'm sorry...I didn't realize...” her own symptoms were nearly unbearable now.
“F-Fine I'm fine. I-I'm o-ok,” Mark gasped, doubling over again and clutching his stomach like his insides were going to fall out.
Forcing her feet to move to the cockpit, Kelsey opened the door separating the cabin from the pilots. “Dylan? Mark j-just threw up. He won't come out, though I offered to give him something for the nausea.”
Dylan's face was tight with worry. “Frank can you take the wheel a minute or do you want to try and talk him out of there?”
“I can fly. I feel I make you jealous when I spend so much time with Mark. He is your friend too after all.”
“Actually you seem to have a way with him that no one else does. I guess you're like the father he never had. But if you don't want to I can.”
“If you insist then I will. But I don't want you feeling left out.”
“I can only tap into Mark's practical side. You have access to his emotions,” Dylan admitted. “Go ahead. I'll stay here.”
Frank nodded and left his seat, following Kelsey to the bathroom door which was still closed. “Mark?” he called gently.
“Go a-away. I'm f-fine,” Mark answered, struggling to hold back a groan.
Kelsey suddenly turned white. “I-I'm gonna be sick.”
Frank tapped on the door again, urgently. “Mark please, Kelsey needs in there. She's sick.”
There was a scuffling noise as Mark got to his feet. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. “F-Frank...” he murmured before his vision grayed and he blacked out, falling in a heap on the floor.
Seeing Kelsey's face, Frank snatched a bag out of the medical box on the seat, thrust it into her hands and then proceeded to try and force the door open by flinging his weight against it. The door opened easier than he expected and Frank nearly fell over Mark who was sprawled on the floor.
Kelsey immediately threw up in the bag. When she was done, she leaned weakly back against the seat, breathing hard.
“Mark? Mark wake up!” Frank urged, kneeling by the unconscious pilot.
“Hey! What's going on back there?” Dylan called from the cockpit.
“M-Mark passed out,” Kelsey replied.
By this time, Frank had managed to arouse his friend who, confused, was trying to bat his hands away.
“Mark, hey buddy it's me, Frank. Can you tell me what's wrong?” the elderly man urged soothingly.
“S-stomach h-hurts,” Mark moaned. “Th-threw up and i-it made it w-worse.”
“It's probably all the medicine he's on. Some of them can cause nausea. Probably strained the stitches when he threw up,” Kelsey reasoned, trying not to sound sick though she was feeling worse again.
“We'll give you something for the nausea,” Frank promised.
“N-no!” Mark cried. “I-it'll just m-make me drowsy. C-can't take it. G-gotta be strong. J-just talk me th-through this.”
“Here I'll help you up. The seats have to be more comfortable than the floor. Kelsey, give me a hand will you?”
Together they eased Mark slowly to his feet. Thankfully, he didn't become dizzy again and they managed to lay him down on them without incident. “S-sorry,” Mark gasped.
Frank sat down next to him and Kelsey sat on the opposite row. “Mark you really need that medicine. I don't want to risk tearing your stitches if you throw up again,” Frank told his friend gently.
“I-I'll be ok,” Mark mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.
Sighing, Frank shook his head. “You can be so stubborn sometimes Mark! Do you want some music or something?”
“D-don't know if that will help,” Mark answered weakly, taking shallow breaths to try and ease the nauseated feeling in his stomach. Kelsey reached over and placed the oxygen mask back around his head. “Deep breaths work better Mark,” she encouraged.
Mark managed a few but he quickly forgot. “Easy Mark. Just follow my example. Deep breaths,” Frank reminded. When he looked over at Kelsey, he noticed she was following his lead as well, another bag close at hand. Frank began to recite some Bible verses softly in German, trying to help them both. Eventually, Mark slipped into a light and uneasy sleep.
“One hour out!” Dylan called several hours later.
Frank slipped from his seat, trying not to wake up Mark who was still asleep, and disturb Kelsey, who was dozing fitfully. “Hey do you mind if I stay in the cabin?” he asked Dylan quietly. “Mark's out and Kelsey's sick. She's thrown up two times now. Finally fell asleep about two hours ago.”
“Of course,” Dylan agreed. “You're gonna have to wake them up before we land though.”
“I know,” Frank sighed as he headed back to the cabin. Kelsey was throwing up again and he sat next to her, massaging her shoulders gently.
The hour passed quickly. When Dylan announced that they were about to land, Frank limped over to Mark and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Mark we're here,” he called gently.
Mark's eyes fluttered open and he was immediately hit with pain. Frank found the last painkiller and injected it into Mark's IV before he could protest. Dylan smoothly landed the plane and Kelsey breathed a sigh of relief as the motion stopped. By this time, the painkiller had kicked in and Mark was back to his usual business like self.
“Alright people, this is how we're going to do it. We have 45 minutes to be in St. Petersburg. Lillian texted me the directions. Frank, put them on your phone. We'll take two separate cabs. I'll be in the first one and I want the rest of you guys to follow at a safe distance. You cannot be caught tailing us.”
“B-but you can't go alone! You'll be killed!” Kelsey stammered.
Mark looked at her, completely serious. “Kelsey, we have no choice. It's me they want. If I can distract them, that gives everyone else the best chance possible to get what we need. I looked the place up. It's an old parking lot. I assume Lillian will take me elsewhere. You need to be able to track us there.”
“We're walking into a trap,” Frank muttered under his breath.
“I know. But this is the best plan we've got,” Mark answered firmly. “Let's move people. We're wasting daylight.”
The two cabs were quickly hired. Kelsey gave Mark a hug and made him promise to be careful. Mark gave both Dylan and Frank handshakes. There were no goodbyes said aloud. Their eyes gave more than an ample one.
Mark pulled Frank aside. “Listen to me. Dylan and Kelsey, they're going to need a leader. I need you to be a leader for them and not worry about me, ok? Could you please do that for me?” Mark asked earnestly.
Frank agreed, trying not to look worried though he was sick with fear. reluctantly, he turned back to the others. Taking a shaky breath, Kelsey climbed into the second cab along with Frank and Dylan.
The ride to the address Lillian had given Mark did not take long. As the pilot was expecting, Lillian was there and waiting. Taking just a second to collect himself, Mark pushed his fears aside and walked towards his waiting enemy, Lillian. She wore a grim expression on her face but it broke into evil, greedy grin as she saw Mark.
Lillian eyed him, then looked around to make sure Mark hadn't been followed. Thankfully, the second cab was hidden well enough and far enough away to not be spotted. “Well I see you made it here and in time. Get in the back of the van.” Lillian gestured to an unmarked white van sitting behind them.
Mark crossed his arms defiantly. “Where are my sister and Sandra?” he demanded. “And where is Juhotta?”
Coolly laughing, Lillian fished in her pocket and pulled out a few strands of dark brown hair that Mark immediately recognized as Catherine's. His heart beat quicker with both anger and fear but he kept his face emotionless. “All that will be explained in due time,” Lillian was answering, her voice light and cooing as if she were trying to bribe a child with candy.
Shaking his head, Mark stood his ground. “No. Tell me where they are first.” he was so angry he failed to hear Juhotta's approach from behind.
“I'll tell you where they are,” the burly man growled, kneeing Mark in the stomach as the pilot spun around to face him. The pain exploded in his stomach, bringing him to his knees in agony. Juhotta smirked.
“Juhotta we need to hurry,” Lillian reminded sweetly.
“Yep. Time to go!” Juhotta called as he hauled Mark into the back of the van and shut the door. Both he and Lillian climbed into the front and sped off. In the back, Mark lay groaning as he waited for the pain in his stomach to ease. Behind the van, the taxi with Frank, Dylan and Kelsey followed, doing their best to stay out of sight.
After about a half hour of traveling, the two fugitives arrived at their destination. By that time, Mark had recovered most of his strength back and was ready for anything, or so he thought. As soon as Juhotta opened the doors, Mark sprang out and slammed a punch square into his jaw. “One good punch deserves another don't you think?” he taunted.
Lillian's hands jerked him away from Juhotta. Her eyes were like sparks from a flame. “Alright mister, you asked for it,” she replied as Juhotta kicked him in the stomach, then returned the punch to Mark's face. The pilot screamed and passed out. “Who's so tough now?” Lillian laughed heartlessly.
By now, the others were hiding, watching the commotion from behind an old car near the building Lillian had parked out. “Mark!” Dylan cried when he heard the pilot's scream. Without thinking, he stood up, intending to help.
Frank yanked him back down. There were tears in his eyes. “Dylan no! We can't. Stay here and wait till they take him inside.” he looked at Kelsey. Her face was pure white with horror.
“Lillian,” Juhotta was saying as they drug Mark into the building and closed the door behind them, locking it. “Take him to the conference room and tie him up so we can have a little chit-chat.”
“With pleasure!” Lillian promptly agreed, hauling the limp man into the directed room. Once she got him into a chair and tied up, she dumped a bucked of ice water on his head.
Mark gasped as he was jolted back into consciousness. The pain hit him so fast it took his breath away but he pushed it aside and forced himself to focus.
“Glad to see you're up Holbrook,” Juhotta sneered. “I've just had a lovely chat with my boss and he's coming especially to see you. Won't that be nice?”
Lillian smirked, her face full of mischief. “Why don't we “prepare” our guest while we wait? I'm sure he has a pretty nasty cut where his stitches were torn,” she gestured to the bloodstain on Mark's shirt. “I doubt my boot was clean either. We wouldn't want infection. Some salt water should clean and do the trick eh Juhotta?” her voice was smooth and enticing, mostly to annoy Mark.
Juhotta gave her a wicked grin. “That sounds just about right,” he agreed, cutting Mark's shirt off of him. He whistled at the sight of all the scars. “Too bad I wasn't there to make them all.”
Lillian left and came back with a bucket of water and a container of salt which she proceeded to mix where Mark could plainly see it. “That should just about do it,” she smiled in satisfaction, carrying the concoction over. “Ready Mark?”
Mark took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for what was coming. “Bring it on,” he shot back sassily.
“Enjoy!” Lillian laughed as she let the contents spill all over Mark's wound. Mark bit his lip so hard it bled and let out a few pained grunts but refused to give Lillian the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. This only annoyed her, but she refrained from saying anything.
Juhotta though, had other ideas. Grabbing a stick from the wall, he proceeded to beat Mark's body until the pilot was gasping in pain. Unable to hold back the cries any longer, they were torn from his body with each contact the weapon made. Finally, they both were satisfied. Juhotta untied Mark and drug him down the hall. “You stay put until my boss comes. Oh and, see, we kept our end of the deal...partially...” he added as he pushed the pilot into Sandra and Catherine's cell.
Meanwhile, outside, the others had come up with a plan of their own. “We need to split up,” Frank was saying.”
“I agree. I didn't see any guards but I'm sure the main entrances aren't the best way to go to get in,” Dylan piped in.
“Let's circle the building, and make sure we stay out of sight,” Kelsey suggested. “I don't think we have much time. I'll go with my dad and Dylan, are you ok going by yourself?”
“Yep. Sounds like a plan. Let's go!”
With that, the three headed out to search for entrances. They all met in the back of the building a few minutes later. “So? Find anything?” Frank asked urgently.
“Yeah, what looked to be a cellar entrance and a garbage service entrance,” Dylan answered. “You?”
Kelsey shook her head. “Not much on our end. The garbage service entrance would probably be our best bet. Let's check it out.”
“Mark!” Sandra and Catherine both cried as they raced to him. The pilot was soon wrapped in their embrace and both girls shed numerous tears at his physical condition and because they were so overjoyed and heartbroken at the same time, to see him.
“C-Catherine? S-Sandra? Are you girls ok?” Mark asked, trying to push aside the pain he was feeling.
“Why are you soaking wet Mark? What did they do to you?!” Sandra eyed him with concern. “Catherine, help me untie these ropes.” It was good to have something to do.
Quickly, Catherine untied Mark's bonds. “Sandra, he tore his stitches and he's bleeding badly,” she noted.
Sandra nodded. Luckily she had a tank top on underneath her shirt so she removed her t-shirt and tore it to make it longer before pressing the cloth to Mark's wound. He grimaced in pain. “A-agh! Don't p-press hard I might b-be bleeding internally,” he warned.
“There is some bruising,” Sandra mused. “What are you doing here anyway? I told you not to come!”
“H-had to save you g-guys,” Mark answered.
“I figured you wouldn't listen,” Catherine sighed. “Now you're trapped here with us.”
“The o-others came,” Mark told them.
“They what?!” Sandra gasped. “A-are they safe?!”
“I hope so. They came separately. Probably trying to get inside and find a way to get you out of here.”
“Stop moving Mark!” Sandra urged as she tried to counteract his attempt to sit up against the wall. “I need to stop this bleeding. You can save us later.”
“I'm not saving you this time. I'm the distraction,” Mark replied.
Chapter 7
Lillian walked up to Juhotta, smirking so menacingly that he knew something was up. “Hey Juhotta, I've got another idea to make their lives miserable while we wait...” she began.
“Oh do tell!” Juhotta grinned slyly.
“Do you remember those canisters of tear gas that we have in the back room? Perhaps we could set off a few...”
“There's an idea. I also have try and get that chip out before the boss comes.”
“Great! And that sounds intriguing. Hope you don't mind if I join you.” Lillian tossed her golden hair over her shoulder.
“Well, actually I was wondering if you had any ideas since you seem to be on your bad side today.” Juhotta's voice was just a bit teasing.
Lillian rolled her eyes, not hesitating as she replied, “oh that's easy. He's obviously madly loyal to his friends. They're the key. Do something to them where he can see and hear them and he'll hand it right over.” she gave him a smug smile.
“Let's tie all three of them to chairs in the conference room,” Juhotta suggested. “Then we can have our fun.”
Both Lillian and Juhotta headed to the cell where their prisoners were sitting. The sight of Juhotta's gun and Lillian's too were enough to subdue them to the point where the girls allowed themselves to be tied to the chairs without much of a struggle. Mark was dragged to a chair opposite him. Blood was already seeping through Sandra's makeshift bandage.
“Stop! Stop please! You're hurting him!” Catherine begged.
“Oh hush. He'll be fine,” Lillian muttered as she hauled him onto the chair and tied him securely to it.
Juhotta strolled over to him. “The boss is gonna be here soon and you won't like the way he works,” he warned. “How about making things easier on yourself and tell us where the chip is. You were supposed to bring it. Remember what I threatened you with?” he gestured to the two girls. “Tell me where it is.”
Mark remained quiet, staring defiantly into the black eyes of Juhotta. Faster than he could blink, the burly man backhanded him so hard he saw stars.
“You're just making it harder on yourself Mark,” Lillian giggled.
The door to the conference room opened and A huge figure of a man stepped into the room. He towered above Juhotta, standing nearly seven feet tall. His frame was extremely muscular and the sight of his large, powerful hands was enough to strike fear into someone. His eyes were hid by black glasses but his whole presence radiated power.
“Look who we have here!” His voice held a thick foreign accent.
“Andreas! Glad you made it safely,” Juhotta greeted his boss.
Mark glared at the newcomer. “I remember you...” he muttered through gritted teeth. “They warned me about you.”
“Did they?” Andreas pulled off his glasses, revealing piercing eyes, black as midnight. His shaggy hair matched them perfectly. “Well they had good reason to.” Andreas's deep, powerful voice was like thunder. “I'm not going to play games Mark. Hand the chip over NOW.”
“Never,” Mark growled.
A slow grin spread across Andreas's face. His eyes glittered with evil schemes. “Very well Mark,” he answered casually, striding over to Sandra who sat, frozen with fear and as white as a ghost. Andreas pulled a knife out of his pocket and pressed it against her neck, watching Mark's face intently. “How about now? One little cut and it's over.”
Mark tried to swallow his growing panic. Where were the others?! “N-no! No please! She's not involved in this. This is between you and me.” he tried stalling for time.
Andreas smirked, glad he was a master magician. “Then I'll use her to get what I want.” With a quick movement, he brought the knife horizontally across Sandra's neck. Red liquid splattered everywhere as Sandra's head slumped forward and her eyes closed. Catherine screamed.
Mark's yell of rage echoed around the room. “YOU KILLED HER!” He bellowed, fighting the ropes tying him. It was no use. They were too secure.
“Yep, and Catherine's next. WHERE is the chip?!” Andreas demanded, holding the knife to Catherine's neck now. The young female was sobbing heartbrokenly, crying out Sandra's name. When the knife was pressed against her throat, she swallowed back another cry and stared at Mark, her eyes pleading. She was shaking from head to foot.
“A-alright. Alright,” Mark gave in, glancing in horror at Sandra who sagged, limp in the chair. The red liquid was trickling towards his feet. “I-it's in my pocket. P-please...just d-don't hurt Catherine.” Shame and guilt racked his body, for it was his actions that had killed her. She had died over him refusing to hand over a chip and a fake one at that. Mark felt sick.
With a grin, Andreas motioned for Juhotta to search Mark's pockets. The man pulled out the object a minute later. “There! Was that so hard?” Andreas asked, looking over at Sandra. “Aww, looks like it's too late for your little friend. Too bad. But you won't have much time to enjoy life either. Lillian, Juhotta, come on. This place is set to blow in ten minutes.” With that, the three fugitives left the room.
Kelsey, Dylan and Frank hurried to the service entrance that Dylan had found. Dylan eyed it a minute, having a better close up look. “Ok...Frank if I hoist you up there do you think you can help the rest of us up?” he asked hopefully.
Frank nodded. “Sure. Will do,” he agreed. “Doesn't look too high for us to manage.”
Dylan positioned himself to give Frank a boost. With a grunt, he helped lift Kelsey's dad up enough to where Frank could pull himself up. Once he was safely on top of the ledge, Frank reached a hand down. “Alright, Kelsey, you're next.”
It took a minute, but all three of them managed to make it into the building. Luckily, it seemed to be abandoned, at least at their current position. “Hurry! We don't have much time!” Kelsey whispered as they headed down the halls. Frank and Dylan held their pistols at the ready as they quietly opened each unlocked door and looked for their friends.
At last, they reached the conference room. Bursting into the room, all three rescuers breathed a huge sigh of relief. That is, until Kelsey saw Sandra and her condition. With a cry of alarm and fear, she raced over, past a sobbing Catherine, and ignoring everyone else, knelt next to her friend. “Sandra! S-Sandra no...please no!” Kelsey begged. The pain on her face quickly turned to that of a puzzled expression. “She's not dead...why...this isn't even real blood! She must have been drugged. Sandra! Wake up!” Kelsey shouted, shaking her friend.
Sandra came to with a moan and Mark felt a such wave of relief crash over him that he nearly passed out from both the sensation and blood loss. “Wh-what happened?” Sandra moaned.
“There's no time to explain. They g-gt the chip and they just left. This b-building is going to explode! We've got about eight minutes I'd say,” Catherine informed the others, still sobbing with relief over Sandra.
Frank hobbled over to Mark and untied him while Dylan did the same with the girls. “Dylan help me with Mark! I can't manage his weight by myself and with a bad knee.”
“No. I-I've got some unfinished b-business. They can't be far.” Mark stood up, swayed a bit unsteadily, then regained his balance.
“We have got to go. This building is going to blow!” Dylan reminded urgently, ushering everyone out into the hall. “Where's the exit?” The group of survivors and their rescuers traveled down the hallway as fast as they could. Frank remained by Mark as they were the slowest of the group. They soon fell quite a distance behind the others.
Mark slumped against the wall, breathing hard. His energy was draining from his body nearly as fast as the blood seeping out from his torn stitches. Frank grabbed his arm. “Mark come on!” he urged.
Shaking his head, Mark swallowed hard. “G-go. Frank go! While you can. D-dying anyways...” his voice trailed off weakly.
“Dylan help!” Frank yelled. “I can't carry Mark!”
The others raced back. “Guys we only have five minutes!” Kelsey frantically exclaimed.
“Come on Mark. You aren't through yet!” Dylan grunted as he hauled Mark over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and they resumed their progress towards the elusive exit.
Suddenly, Juhotta jumped out of the shadows, yanking Mark out of Dylan's grasp. “Holbrook! You aren't getting away that easy!” he growled. “That chip was a fake!”
Kelsey's face turned white in horror but she gamely sent a kick into Juhotta's shin. “Take that!”
Juhotta stepped back and grabbed Mark by the throat. “Take one more step and I'll kill him!” he threatened. “This no longer concerns you.”
“J-just g-go!” Mark gasped weakly, pinned against the wall in Juhotta's firm grasp.
“No! We can't leave without you!” Catherine wailed, terrified.
Juhotta swung with his free hand, punching Mark in the stomach. The blood drained from Mark's already pale face. Had Juhotta not been holding him, he would have doubled over in debilitating agony. “You're only hurting him by attacking me. How much more do you think his remaining stitches can take?”
“Guys we have two minutes left!” Dylan yelled.
“J-just go!” H-have to go!” Mark ground out from between gritted teeth. Seeing Frank wasn't about to leave him, the pilot made a valiant effort to persuade him otherwise. “F-Frank you p-promised. L-leader...” he couldn't say anything else as Juhotta completely cut off his air supply.
Knowing that he was betraying his best friend, Frank could only stare. Dylan suddenly grabbed him by the arm, yanking him towards the exit. Time seemed to pass in slow motion. He vaguely remembered Kelsey and Catherine running beside him, their bodies a blur. The only thing that was clear was Mark's blue eyes, telling him he was doing the right thing. The look of affirmation. Those eyes followed him until Frank was out of sight and the world rushed back into real time.
Once his friends were gone, Mark summoned all of his remaining effort and wrenched himself free of Juhotta's iron grip. “It's over now. You will never get the real chip.” Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, masking the pain he should have been feeling.
“I may not but if I go, you're coming with me!” Juhotta growled as he lunged at Mark.
With a mighty effort, Mark managed to tackle Juhotta to the ground, hoping to incapacitate him long enough to make his own escape. Juhotta fell, nearly landing on his face. A grunt escaped his lips as he struggled to get to his feet. “Get back here you!” he yelled, chasing after Mark who was staggering down the hallway. He quickly overtook the wounded pilot and slammed him to the floor. “This is your death sentence so ACCEPT IT!” he roared.
Mark elbowed Juhotta in the face with all his might. A satisfying crack indicated a broken nose. Juhotta went limp, unconscious from the blow. Staggering to his feet, Mark raced for the exit. “Thirty seconds...” he mumbled under his breath.
Meanwhile, Dylan and the others had found the exit. Boosting Frank up, Dylan helped the girls climb up to reach him and escape out the opening. “Catherine you're next. Hurry!” Dylan yelled. As soon as she was out, Dylan struggled up just as Sandra reached them, not being as fast a runner as the others. Dylan gave her his hand as the others ran away as fast as they could. All Frank could think about was the friend he had left behind. Half hoping to catch a glimpse of him, Frank turned his head towards the entrance they had just climbed out of. He was nowhere to be seen. But wait! What was that? Just as Sandra climbed over the edge, Mark appeared.
With strength he didn't know he had, Mark jumped up, grabbed the ledge and tried to hoist himself up. Sandra was right in front of him. 5...4...3...2... Mark had pulled himself up...1...
There was a sickening explosion and the building crumbled, disappearing in a thick cloud of smoke and fire. “MARK!” Frank cried, unsure if the pilot had jumped out in time or not. “N-no! Mark no!”
Dylan had spotted the pilot as well and raced towards the wreckage, crying out Mark's name. It was several minutes before the dust began to settle and there was still no sign of Mark or Sandra. The air was filled with cries of their names as Dylan, Frank, Catherine and Kelsey searched frantically, choking on the dirt that they inhaled, and blinking back tears from the smoke.
“Sandra!” Dylan gasped as he found her body. Tripping over fallen bricks and rubble, he made his way over to her and felt for a pulse. He was relieved to find one. Sandra had been thrown from the window by the explosion, landing in a pile of debris. She lay unconscious, breathing shallowly. Blood flowed over the rocks from a serious injury, the ground quickly turning red beneath her head. Her face was as white as a ghost and her eyes were closed.
As soon as Kelsey found out her friend was alive, she returned her search for Mark, leaving Dylan to care for her. “MARK?!” Frank yelled frantically. “Mark where are you?!”
Sandra's eyes flickered open, dull and hazy. “Wh-what...” she murmured.
“Shh,” Dylan cautioned. “Hey, don't talk ok? Just relax. You're fine. I'm getting help right now,” he soothed.
“Mark!” Catherine screamed. “I found him!” tears streamed down her face as she saw him pinned underneath a large beam. She pushed the smaller debris off of him, unable to move the large structure. “Help! S-somebody h-help me!” Catherine sobbed, unsure if Mark was even alive.
Frank stumbled over. “Here! I'll help. On the count of three...”
Together they managed to move the beam enough to pull Mark out. Catherine knelt beside him, gently rolling him onto his back. “N-no! Oh no! “Mark please! Please wake up!” she begged. “Kelsey! Somebody help!” Catherine sobbed as she cradled Mark's limp body in her arms.
Chapter 8:
Kelsey swallowed hard. “Is he breathing?” She asked urgently, picking her way carefully over to them.
Catherine put her ear next to Mark's mouth. Her face was white as she shook her head. By now, her shirt was half red from the pilot's blood.
“Shoot!” Kelsey lay Mark down and quickly began CPR. “Come on Mark! Stay with me!” she begged between repetitions.
A few feet away, Dylan was having his own troubles trying to call an ambulance with the language barrier. He knew some Russian but not nearly enough to be fluent. Finally he was transferred to someone who knew English. “Yes,” he was saying. “Please send the ambulance. We have two very seriously injured people. A woman with a serious head wound and deep puncture wound to the side. I believe it missed the internal organs but I'm not sure. The man has...” Dylan looked up and saw Kelsey bending over Mark's unconscious body trying to breathe life back into him. His heart sank. “H-he's not breathing.”
Sandra's eyes flickered open again. This time, she roused enough that the pain seemed to hit her like a ton of bricks. Her breathing quickened to short, frantic gasps that sounded rather labored.
Dylan looked down at her. “Sandra, easy. Easy,” he urged, trying to make his voice sound as soothing as possible. It was rather hard when his attention kept riveting back to Mark. “Sandra you've got to calm down. Help will be here in just a few minutes.”
“N-no...” Sandra cried, her entire body feeling like it was on fire. “C-can't! AGH! Ah! D-Dylan!” she was practically writhing now.
“Sandra listen to me,” Dylan urged as he took her blood covered, trembling hand into his own. “Focus on my voice ok? Just calm down. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Come on, you can do it. Just focus on me.”
Faint sirens could now be heard in the distance. Kelsey was still gamely trying to keep Mark alive but she was quickly getting tired. Dylan tried to swallow the urge to run to him, knowing that Sandra needed him.
Sandra did her best to follow his instructions but her breathing remained irregular, coming in harsh, ragged gasps. Tears of pain rolled down her face, mixing with the blood already splattered there and dripping in crimson drops on the gray rocks below her. Finally, the ambulance pulled up. Dylan sighed with relief and stepped back so the medics could get her onto the stretcher. “It's gonna be ok now Sandra,” he promised soothingly as an oxygen mask was placed around her face and one of the medics inserted an IV with morphine.
The second ambulance crew had their attention set on Mark. Kneeling beside him, they took over CPR for Kelsey who was now gasping and worn out. “Quick! Weak pulse, he's not breathing. Lapsing into cardiac arrest. Let's get him into the ambulance. We'll stabilize him on the way.”
“No! No stop! He's dying!” Catherine screamed as she tried to hold onto Mark as the medics lifted him onto the stretcher and began bagging him.
Frank gently held her back, trying to remain calm for her sake. “Catherine shh. Listen to me. He's in good hands. They know what they're doing. Come on, we'll follow them in the taxi.”
“N-no. Frank go. G-go with them!” Catherine begged as Mark was lifted into the back of the ambulance He was immediately obscured from view by the paramedics as they began to slide a tube down Mark's throat to get him on a vent.
“I'll get us there. Go Dad. He needs you,” Kelsey chimed in, now having got some of her breath back.
Frank didn't hesitate as he hurried after the paramedics. They let him into the back and went screaming off, sirens blaring noisily as they raced towards the hospital. Dylan had left with Sandra and only the two of them were left. Catherine broke down in gut wrenching sobs and Kelsey wrapped her arm around her until she was calm enough to walk back to the taxi.
“Sir we're losing him!” One of the paramedics in Mark's ambulance exclaimed.
“Mark please!” Frank begged. “Come on buddy! Fight!” he buried his head in his hands, completely overwhelmed with shock and bewilderment. “God why did this have to happen!?” He murmured quietly. “P-please...please take care of him. Sandra too,” he added, his voice trembling with emotion.
Everyone arrived at the hospital at almost the same time. As they were pulling Mark out of the ambulance, he flatlined. The paramedics quickly started chest compressions as they raced his gurney into the ambulance, Frank following. Sandra was wheeled in right behind him and Dylan stepped over to Frank, letting her be taken back.
“Please!” Frank called, watching Mark get smaller as he was wheeled down the hall. “I'm a doctor. Please let me help!” he begged, trying to catch up.
A nurse gently ushered him back, a sympathetic look on her face. “I'm sorry sir. You can't go back there. You need to sit in the waiting room with the rest of your family.” her voice was thick with a Russian accent.
“N-no please! I'm begging you!” Frank was desperate. “H-he needs me! He doesn't know any of you!”
“Frank listen. They'll escort us out. Come on. There's nothing we can do for him but pray. Let's find the girls,” Dylan suggested, though his heart was aching.
In the waiting room, Kelsey was arguing with a nurse, trying to gain access to her friends. When she saw Dylan and her dad, she gave up. “I tried everything. The won't let me back there.” Kelsey glanced worriedly at Dylan. “Y-you ok?” she asked, glancing over his blood splattered clothing and bloodied hands.
Dylan sat down and the others followed suit. “Y-yeah. I'm f-fine,” he said, trying to hide his shaking hands and bouncing his knee up and down nervously.
Kelsey nodded, staring at the clock. Each minute felt like an eternity. Catherine sat, silent and shaking in her chair. Her face was still white, a stark contrast to her shirt and pants which were now red with drying blood. Finally, she looked up, turning her head to Frank. “I-is he ok? Please. I-I want the truth. Is my brother ok?” she asked in a trembling tone.
“I-I don't know Catherine. He wasn't looking so good when I had t-to let him go,” Frank admitted.
Catherine buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Kelsey wasn't far behind, though she struggled valiantly to keep the tears back. Dylan, who was sitting next to her, leaned closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He had never dared to before, but under the circumstances, he figured she wouldn't mind. She didn't. In fact, she cried. Softly, but still.
“Hey, hey,” Dylan called softly. “Sandra's going to be just fine. You know how tough she is. Remember when she got bit by that dog and I practically had to sew her arm together? She even had enough sass to inform me that I was doing it wrong. She's probably in there now, telling the doctors off for doing something sloppy.”
Kelsey managed a weak smile at this, just because it was so unlike Sandra and the thought was rather funny. It wasn't funny enough to last long though.
“I-it should h-have been me.”
“No, it shouldn't have been anyone. E-especially not Sandra and Mark,” Dylan replied, getting choked up himself.
“I-I can't bear sitting here in suspense like this!” Kelsey announced. “I-I have to know if Sandra's going to be ok. W-what if she doesn't make it?!”
Catherine sniffled. “O-of course she'll make it. She has to. Sh-she's my sister. We come from strong stock.”
Kelsey jerked back like she had been shot. “What did you just say?!” she gasped.
“I-I guess I never got around to telling you. While we were captured, Sandra showed me her locket. I have one just like it. Both the pieces fit together. W-we're sisters.”
“I-it could have just been another one similar!” Kelsey stammered, not sure what to think.
Catherine shook her head. “No, we both remember enough to confirm it.”
“W-wow...what a shock...” Kelsey mumbled, her tired brain only half processing.
“It really was,” Catherine answered.
Some time later, a surgeon stepped into the waiting room. “Anyone here for Sandra Valentine and Mark Holbrook?” he asked, looking around.
Both Kelsey and Frank jumped up, as did the others. Frank's shaking hands were thrust nervously in his pockets. Kelsey looked over the doctor anxiously. “Y-yes. All five of us are here. How are they?” she asked urgently.
“I'm pleased to say that Mrs. Valentine came through surgery like a champ. It was touch and go for awhile but she is as tough as they come. We have her on an oxygen mask and are very optimistic about her recovery, at least physically. Unfortunately we won't know how serious her head injury is until she wakes up. Thankfully there was no cranial swelling or fracture of the skull. Oh, she also received second degree burns on her legs so we'll be treating that as well,” he informed them.
Kelsey breathed a slight sigh of relief. “What about Mark?”
“He's still in surgery. I know nothing else. I'm sorry.” The surgeon's voice was sympathetic.
“Oh. Can you find out?” Dylan asked anxiously. “And when can we see Sandra?”
“I'm afraid I'm not authorized to give out information on a patient that is not my own. But you may see Sandra now if you like, though I'd advise you to keep everything low-key for now. Her room is 221.” The surgeon turned to lead them down the hall.
“Is she awake yet?” Kelsey questioned.
“No,” the surgeon replied. “But she should be coming off the anesthetic shortly.”
Kelsey gave Catherine a worried smile. “You alright?” she asked, noticing that Sandra's sister was looking a bit panicked.
Catherine only nodded as they arrived outside of the room. The surgeon opened the door and led them in. “Here you are. Press the call button if you need anything,” he reminded as he slipped out.
Kelsey turned to look at her best friend lying so still on the hospital bed. Sandra's face was nearly as white as the pillow and there were several dark scratches in stark contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes were still closed. A bandage was wrapped around her head, covering the wound they were so concerned about. Kelsey gently lifted the covers, exposing the burns. Her own face paled as she quickly covered the sight back up.
Dylan whistled softly. “Boy she's going to have stories to tell about all those scars later,” he murmured.
Catherine had backed herself into the corner in horror, her eyes locked on Sandra in horror. Sweat was rolling down her face and she was breathing rather heavily. Kelsey put a hand on her shoulder. “Catherine? What's wrong?” she asked earnestly.
“M-Mark...I-I have to see him...I-I can't...H-he was dead!” she was full on hyperventilating now.
“He's not dead!” Dylan insisted. “Please...please don't say that!”
Catherine shook her head. “N-n-no. He was dead. H-he wasn't breathing...I can't breathe! Wh-why can't I breathe! Where's Mark!?” she panicked.
“Listen to me Catherine!” Kelsey urged. “Just because someone isn't breathing doesn't mean they're dead. Believe me, I should know. Now listen, I need you to calm down. Panicking like this isn't helping anything. Just slow your breathing down and take deep breaths instead.”
Doing her best, Catherine managed to take slower, gasping breaths, and gradually calmed down. “I-I'm sorry,” she finally mumbled. “I-I've just been through way too much in the past few hours and it's starting to get to me. I'm tired, my head hurts and I'm beyond scared.”
“It's alright,” Kelsey hastened to assure her. “I'm only one step behind you. We can go to the waiting room if you like...if this is too much for you.” she gestured to Sandra.
“No. Sandra is my sister. I need to be here for her,” Catherine insisted.
Just then, Sandra's eyes fluttered open. Dylan stepped closer to her bedside. “Sandra? Sandra it's alright. We're all here. It's ok now, just like I promised,” he told her gently.
Sandra's blue eyes drifted lazily over to Dylan, then to Catherine but she was too drugged up and sleepy to process anything. Catherine sat down in the chair next to her bed and took her sister's hand in hers. “It's ok sis. You're brilliant. Just sleep and we can talk a little later ok?”
The only response Sandra gave her was the tiniest nod and her eyes slipped closed in slumber once more.
A soft knock at the door grabbed everyone's attention. A second surgeon poked his head in through the half open door. “Excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you all but are you Mark Holbrook's family?” he asked.
“No...well, some of us are,” Kelsey corrected herself. “Is he ok?”
“Is there someone close to him that I can speak to? The man who rode with him in the van seemed pretty close. Frank, I believe?”
Frank's face turned as white as a sheet. “Uh...yes, I guess you could say that. But Catherine is his sister and Dylan here is very close to him as well.”
Dylan's face was as pale as Frank's now. “G-go on Frank. I'll be fine and I don't think Catherine can take any more.”
The surgeon nodded and motion Frank out of the room and a little ways down the hall. “What's wrong with Mark?” Frank blurted out, really not wanting to know.
“Holbrook is out of surgery,” the surgeon announced, hesitating. “I really hate to break the news to you like this, but unfortunately we don't think he'll make it through the night.”
Frank gaped at him in disbelief, as his mind numbed in shock and denial. “N-no...no you must be wrong,” he finally replied, his voice thin with fright.
The surgeon sighed. His voice was quite sympathetic as he answered, “I'm sorry. You may see him if you like but we can only allow one visitor at a time.”
Again, Frank settled into silence, trying to process the potentially devistating news he had just heard. After nearly a minute, he slowly nodded, trying to keep his composure. “L-let me break the news first,” he mumbled, swallowing hard.
“I'll wait for you right here,” the surgeon assured him.
The walk down the hall back to Sandra's room gave Frank just enough time to gather his thoughts together. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he let himself into her room. Kelsey, Dylan and Catherine all looked at him anxiously. Frank felt sick.
“Well, how is he?” Dylan asked. Behind him, Catherine clutched Sandra's hand tighter and remained silent.
Frank was very reluctant to speak. Finally he cleared his throat. “M-Mark's out of surgery,” he began, repeating the surgeon's words to him.
“And...” Catherine spoke up, trying to sound hopeful though every doubt she had was slowly crushing that feeling.
Stalling for time, Frank ran his fingers nervously through his graying hair, dreading the news he had to break. “Th-the doc says...he said M-Mark probably won't make it through the n-night,” he finally answered.
Dylan went numb with shock. Suddenly it registered. Pushing past Frank he headed for the door. “E-excuse me,” he muttered, disappearing around the corner.
Kelsey made a move to follow him but Frank lay a hand on her arm, knowing he needed space. “Bleiben Sie hier Kelsey, stay here,” he told her. Kelsey nodded dumbly and sat in a second chair.
Catherine's eyes were filled with tears. “G-go to him Frank. M-Mark is your boy and if anyone is going to pull him out of this, it'll b-be you.” She choked back a sob before continuing. “I-I'll come and see him in a bit.”
Nodding, Frank made his way back to the surgeon who was still waiting. "Come with me," he directed as he led Frank down the hall, bringing him to the critical care ward. There, they walked to Mark's room which really just looked like a glass box. There was a coding station outside his room, ready if needed. The surgeon let Frank in.
Mark was lying in bed with his eyes closed. There was a white bandage around his head as well as on his arms for the burns he received. Thick padding and gauze were wrapped around his stomach. There was a tube down his throat connected to a ventilator that was breathing for him, another in his chest, and yet another in his stomach to drain the infection. His face was bruised where Juhotta had hit him. The pilot looked as pale as death.
It took all of Frank's willpower to keep his composure. The surgeon showed him where the call button, gave Frank a sympathetic smile and left. Frank numbly sat down in a chair beside Mark's bed and remained silent for a long, long time, just trying to process the information and emotions. Finally, Frank cleared his throat. “M-Mark...” he began, hesitating, unsure if Mark could hear him or not, though he knew it really didn't matter.
There was no answer other than the constant sound of the air being forced in and out of Mark's lungs by the ventilator and the beep of the heart monitor mapping out Mark's slow, weak heartbeat.
Frank took a deep breath. “M-Mark, I-I'm asking you to fight. I know y-you're tired...and scared, b-but...” Frank cleared his throat again, trying to keep the huskiness from sounding so much. “We-we're all here for you. But...” despite himself, Frank couldn't help the tear that rolled slowly down his cheek as he took Mark's limp hand into his. “If...if you're too tired to fight...” his tears were falling faster now. “If you're too tired, I-I won't say g-goodbye. J-just know th-that we'll miss you t-terribly. Y-you're the best friend a-anyone could want. A-and I love you l-like a father.” Unable to control his emotions any longer, Frank bowed his head and wept.
Chapter 9:
Back in Sandra's room, Catherine sat, dazed, in her chair, almost to numb to feel anything. When Sandra stirred slightly, it broke her out of her trance-like state. “Oh sis,” she mumbled. “Please-please be ok. Do you hear me? I-I've lost everything and n-now I'm losing my baby brother. I d-don't want to lose my little s-sister too. W-we still haven't had slumber parties o-or played Barbies or done each other's h-hair and whatever else s-sisters do. Just please...please don't leave me,” she begged.
Sandra's fingers twitched slightly in response to her sister's pleading. Catherine squeezed her hand gently. “I'm right here Sandra, right here with you sis,” she assured. “I won't let you go again. I promise.”
Sleepily, Sandra opened her blue eyes and lazily looked at Catherine who tried to smile through her tears. “Thank you Sandra. Thank you,” she whispered.
For a long moment, Sandra just stared blankly. After a minute, her eyes began to slip shut again. Catherine settled back into her chair with a sigh, still holding her sister's hand. The room settled into silence. Catherine nearly jumped when Sandra broke the stillness by coughing weakly into the mask, wincing at the pain it brought.
“C-Cath-Catherine?” Sandra gasped.
Catherine leaned forward. “Shh-shh,” she soothed. “I'm right here. It's ok. You're ok.”
Sandra blinked. “Where 'm I?” she mumbled. It was difficult to understand her.
“You're in the hospital Sandra, remember? The building exploded and you were thrown out.” Catherine's equally blue eyes peered searchingly into Sandra's.
“My head hurts,” Sandra murmured in response.
“I know. I'm going to get you a nurse,” Catherine promised as she pressed the call button.
The nurse wasn't long in coming. Catherine quickly explained the situation and Sandra was soon set up with another round of painkillers. When the nurse left and Sandra was feeling a bit better, she looked around slowly. “Where's that man?”
Catherine looked confused. “What man?”
“Th-the man that was here earlier. Tall with d-dark hair. He was talking to me, couldn't understand him.”
“Do you mean Dylan? Or your doctor?” Catherine asked, leaning forward a bit in her chair. Her voice betrayed her fear.
Sandra hesitated a very long moment. “Um...Dylan,” she finally answered.
“Do you remember him?” Catherine wondered nervously.
“H-he called the ambulance and saved me...”
“But do you remember who he is?” Catherine persisted.
“He's a friend...” Sandra sounded almost like she was guessing.
Catherine wasn't convinced. “What else do you you remember? Do you remember Mark?” Sandra only squirmed and didn't answer. Catherine took her hand. “Come on. Mark Holbrook. He's a pilot. You've saved his life multiple times.”
“Um...yeah...Mark huh? Good friend too...” Sandra seemed very tense.
“Anything else? Sorry, I've got to see how hard you hit your head.”
Sandra shook her head. “D-don't want to talk. Tired,” she mumbled. “D-don't feel good.”
“I know. It's alright. We can talk later.” Catherine squeezed Sandra's hand reassuringly.
“C-Catherine?” Sandra asked, now sounding frightened.
“It's ok Sandra. I'm right here. Do you need something?”
“Wh-why was I in an exploding b-building?”
Catherine hesitated, not wanting to scare Sandra any more than she already was. “We were kidnapped,” she finally answered.
“Wh-why?” Sandra asked with increasing anxiety.
“The bad guys tried to get to Mark by kidnapping us,” Catherine responded.
Tears formed in Sandra's eyes. “C-Catherine y-you've got to promise s-something. C-can't tell a-anyone. Pr-promise.”
Catherine nodded. “O-ok...what's wrong?”
“I-I can't remember a-anyone or a-anything...except you.”
Dylan sat on a barstool in a pub he'd managed to find. His second glass of beer was sitting half full in front of him as Dylan stared at it listlessly, practically in a daze and too numb to process anything. Kelsey walked in, having remembered that he had been known to drink on occasion. Upon spotting his slouched form, she immediately breathed both a sigh of relief, and a sigh of anger. “What are you doing?!”
To Kelsey's surprise, Dylan only stared at her a minute before looking back at his half finished drink, picking it up and lifting the glass to his mouth. Kelsey snatched it, nearly spilling the yellow liquid. “Hey. Drinking won't help anyone or anything. Stop it now. Don't you remember what happened last time you drank?! They won't let you in the hospital if you're drunk anyhow,” she added, hoping he wasn't so intoxicated already that he couldn't listen to reason.
Dylan scowled. “Why would I want to go back there anyway?” he muttered gruffly.
“Because the Dylan I know would be there for his friends no matter what,” Kelsey answered without hesitation. “And Mark would be there for you if he were in your shoes. Besides, Dad is going to kill me if he finds out I've been in a pub.”
“Then go,” Dylan replied. He was silent a moment. “I-I can't watch him slip away. I can't watch h-how I've failed him from every angle. I-I just can't.” Tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks though he fought hard to hold them back.
Kelsey put her hands on her hips. “You're giving up? Just like that?!”
“Didn't you hear?! The bloody doc said he wasn't going to make it through the night!” Dylan bellowed, turning his sadness to anger. The bartender gave him a dark look but said nothing.
“They aren't positive. And the LEAST you could do is be there for him!” Kelsey retorted, almost as angry.
“I can't watch my friend die. I-I can't. I just can't!” Dylan finally broke down in tears and it softened Kelsey's heart a bit.
“We all have to go sometime. Imagine yourself in his place a minute. Wouldn't you want your friends with you?” Kelsey asked, a bit less harsh.
“I-I can't. I'm not as strong as he is. I just can't. H-he wasn't supposed to go this way.”
“He's not dead. D-don't make things worse. Please. At least stop drinking before you do something you regret.” Kelsey momentarily thought about putting a hand on his shoulder but decided against it.
Dylan shrugged. “Fine. As you wish,” he relented, sagging defeatedly in his chair.
“Look. If you don't want to go back at least get a hotel room or somewhere to stay. W-we'll keep you updated.”
“Yeah. Ok,” Dylan replied lifelessly. “D-do you want me to get a room for you too? I doubt Frank and Catherine will leave the hospital.”
Kelsey sighed. “Maybe I'll just stay in the waiting room. I don't want to leave either but ever since Sandra and Catherine found out they're sisters, I feel kind of left out.”
“You gotta understand this is hard for both of them. I don't think they mean to leave you out. Sandra is your best friend.”
“You mean was,” Kelsey mumbled dejectedly.
“What do you mean by using past tense?” Dylan asked.
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Oh nothing...it's just that now that Sandra has found her sister, I'll be left in the shadows watching them do everything we used to do together. No problem, no problem at all,” she answered sarcastically.
“Hey. You don't need to be jealous. Sandra would never reject you. You know that,” Dylan replied. Kelsey only scowled and Dylan sighed. “To be honest, I've been feeling a bit left out myself.”
“I know,” Kelsey admitted. “Dad and Mark seem really close. Bet it was shocking. He pretty much took over...” she cleared her throat, realizing she was talking bad about her father. “...unintentionally of course.”
Dylan sighed again. “I guess I rather liked being Mark's father figure.”
“You never know how good you've got something until it's gone,” Kelsey responded glumly.
“Yeah,” Dylan nodded. “I guess I feel betrayed.”
“It really wasn't his fault though, he means nothing by it.”
“I'm serious! I've been there for Mark for all those years and this is how he pays me back?”
Kelsey shook her head. “What a mess. What if we just left?” she suggested, though she didn't really mean it.
“It's not like anyone would miss us,” Dylan huffed.
“My dad would. I just want to go home. Back to Germany.”
“He wouldn't miss us!” Dylan countered, irritated. “He's too busy with his BFF, Mark!”
Kelsey could tell that all the exhaustion and stress and alcohol was really starting to get to Dylan. “He would miss both of us. As would Mark. Let's just get some sleep and we can talk about it tomorrow,” she suggested.
Dylan wasn't quite drunk enough to argue. “Yeah, ok, fine,” he agreed. “Guess you're right. Let's get out of here.”
Back in the hospital, Frank continued his silent vigil over Mark who lay as still as death. Suddenly, his body seized up and the heart monitor began blaring a loud alarm. A grunt of pain escaped the pilot's lips. Frank grabbed the call button and pressed it frantically. “Someone get in here now!” he yelled. “Mark? Mark it's ok. Stay calm for me.”
Verna rushed in a minute later and took a quick look at Mark. “Oh no you don't Mark. Anya!” she called. “Come in here quick. Code blue! Code blue!” she yelled as the pilot's heart rate plummeted. “Get the defibrillators! Now!” Verna snatched the device from Anya as the nurse ran in with them. “Come on Mark. Fight!” she whispered as she charged the paddles and placed them on Mark's chest. “Clear!”
Mark's body jolted with the shock and then went limp again. His heart was beating haltingly. Frank was nearly in a panic. “Mark! Please!” he begged.
Charging the paddles again, Verna placed them back on Mark's chest. “Clear!” she yelled, delivering a second shock. To their relief, Mark's heart rate settled back into a slow, weak rhythm which wasn't good, but better than it was.
“This really isn't looking promising,” Anya sighed.
“I know,” Verna agreed sympathetically. “Please go fetch Dr. Whittaker.”
The door opened just then and Dr. Whittaker walked in, holding his clipboard. His white lab coat blended perfectly with the spotless walls. He was wearing a smile but it faded as he saw the defibrillators in Verna's hands. “What seems to be the trouble?” he asked needlessly.
“H-he coded sir,” Verna answered, handing him her stethoscope.
“Not good,” Dr. Whittaker mumbled as he took the device and listened to Mark's heart. The doctor shook his head worriedly. “His heart rate is just so weak.”
“Isn't there something we can do?” Verna asked hopefully.
Dr. Whittaker sighed. “We could give him a stimulant but I don't know how much good that will do.”
Verna pulled him aside. “Sir we need to do whatever we can to help these people. I feel really bad for them.”
“Of course,” Dr. Whittaker nodded. “I'm not the type of person who just stands by and lets someone die. Now please get the stimulant.”
Catherine stood up, carefully checking to make sure Sandra wasn't asleep. She hadn't moved in hours and her eyes were closed. “Sandra?” Catherine whispered. When her sister didn't answer, she took that to mean she was in a deep slumber and tiptoed out of the room to find something to fill her empty belly. Heading down to the lobby, Catherine came across Kelsey who was sitting alone in the waiting room. She looked like she was dozing off. “Why Kelsey!” Catherine exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where is your dad and Dylan?”
Kelsey jumped. “Oh! You startled me. I didn't want to go to the hotel room Dylan got us. Dylan is there now and I believe Dad is still with Mark,” she explained.
“Well would you like to scrounge something to eat with me?” Catherine asked. “I'm hungry and it's been ages since we've had something to eat. Sandra's asleep right now but we've got to be quick.”
Surprisingly to Catherine, Kelsey looked rather uncomfortable at her offer. “Uh...sure,” Kelsey agreed slowly, standing up to join her. After a quick inspection of the hospital, all they found was a vending machine for drinks. Kelsey purchased a water and Catherine decided on a soft drink instead. Figuring she had been gone long enough, Catherine gave up her search for a snack and she and Kelsey headed back to Sandra's room.
They found her in a panic. Her eyes were wide with fright and sweat was pouring down her pale face. The heart monitor was mapping out her racing heart. Catherine rushed over. “Sandra?! Sandra I'm right here. It's alright.” she took her sister's hand into her own. “It's alright now.”
“S-sorry...” Sandra gasped, trying to calm down. “J-just got sc-scared.”
“It's ok. I should have let you know. I was trying to find something to eat but there's nothing here. I'll just order something,” she smiled, patting Sandra's hand. “Hey, here's Kelsey. You remember her.”
Kelsey forced a smile. “Hey Sandra. You feeling alright?” she asked, concerned.
Sandra's eyes darted nervously to Catherine, then back to Kelsey. She nodded. “Yeah. Hi.”
Catherine pulled out her phone. “Here, let me call in something for us to eat.”
Frank sat hunched over in his chair, head buried in his hands. He was beyond exhausted but he forced himself to remain awake. Mark lay quiet in the hospital bed, his vitals remaining low. Low enough to scare him. Verna came in a few minutes later to check on the pilot. She did so quickly and looked sadly over at Frank. “I'm so sorry that had to happen,” she sighed, referring to Mark's code.
Shuddering, Frank nodded. “Yeah. Me too,” he mumbled.
Verna walked over and put a gentle hand on Frank's shoulder. “Hey, you doing ok?”
Frank hesitated. “Physically I'm fine. Mentally...that's a different story,” he finally admitted.
“Do you want to talk?” Verna offered. “That's what I'm here for.”
“Talk about what?” Frank asked, slightly confused.
“Like what you're going through. How you're handling this. I'm here to help.” She gave him an encouraging smile.
“Well...” Frank sighed. “Right now I'm just trying to be strong for him. Later I'll probably crash. But he needs me here to be with him. So I won't leave.”
Verna sat in the adjacent chair. “Don't worry Frank. You don't have to be strong all the time. It's perfectly normal to be scared and confused in times like these,” she assured him.
“Oh believe me, I'm scared. But I can't let Mark down.”
“Frank. You're not letting him down.”
“Correct. And I'm not going to start now. I'll be strong until this ends,” Frank insisted.
“Well, we'll keep a close eye on him tonight,” Verna promised. “In the meantime, I need to get Mark his supper. Do you want anything? You need to keep your strength up.”
Frank shrugged. “The only thing that sounds good is chicken and rice soup.”
“Ok. I'll be right back,” Verna smiled gently as she stood and slipped quietly out of the room.
Chapter 9
Sandra squirmed on the bed. “M-my head is killing me,” she moaned.
“Here, I'll get a nurse,” Catherine told her as she pressed the call button. “And Kelsey, dinner will be here soon. Hope you like Chinese.”
Anya the nurse soon hurried in. “Yes?” she asked in her thick Russian accent.
“Sandra's head hurts. She probably needs some more painkillers, Kelsey explained.”
“It is about time. I'll get them and be right back,” the nurse smiled as she left.
Catherine held Sandra's hand. “I'm going to go visit Mark a little later, ok?”
Sandra tensed a bit but nodded slightly. “S-sure. Go n-now if you want,” she offered as Anya returned and injected the painkiller into Sandra's IV, and left.
“It's ok. I'll go in a bit. Wouldn't want Kelsey to eat my dinner,” Catherine smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
Kelsey rolled her eyes, not amused. “Like I would do that.” she sounded rather annoyed.
The girls' dinner arrived a few minutes later. Kelsey took hers and tried to hand Catherine a ten dollar bill. “Thanks for getting this.”
Catherine smiled and handed the money back. “We all need to keep our strength up for Mark and Sandra.”
“Are you sure you don't want it?” Kelsey questioned. “I'd hate to impose.”
“Of course. Now I'm going to see Mark for a bit. I'll be back in a little while.”
Frank watched Mark, trying not to think about how dead he looked, lying so pale and still in the bed. He reached out and lay his hand on top of his friend's. “Oh Mark. Hang in there. Please just hang in there,” he begged. To his great astonishment, the pilot's fingers twitched slightly.
“Mark?!” Frank called, his tired body feeling a surge of hope. “You're still fighting right? Come on. I know that British spunk of yours won't let you down. You have too much to live for.”
Verna returned just then and handed Frank a bowl of soup. She was also carrying a syringe. “There you go Frank, it's nice and warm. You look happier...” she noted. “Something happen?”
“I started talking to him after you left. He moved his fingers!”
Verna walked over to Mark, smiling as she brushed his curly hair back. “Still with us Mark?” she asked softly before injecting the contents of the syringe into the pilot's feeding tube. She took his temperature. “Hmm. Still has a fever but I'm not surprised.”
“Is it any lower?” Frank asked anxiously.
“No, but it's no worse. I wish he would open his eyes or something.” Verna finished with Mark and lay a hand on Frank's shoulder. “We're keeping a close eye on him Frank. We have plenty of staff on hand and the coding station prepped and ready. We're not letting go of him easily,” she promised.
Catherine quietly tapped on the door. “May I come in?” she asked.
Verna hesitated. “Well normally I'm only allowed to let in one at a time but since you guys are my favorite I'll make an exception. Not for too long though, I don't want to stress him out. I'll be back in a bit,” she added before leaving.
Nodding, Catherine sat in the chair next to Frank, her eyes scanning Mark worriedly. She shuddered at his sickly appearance. “How's he doing?” she asked Frank softly.
Frank sighed. “Not too great. He coded again. Moved his fingers a little while ago though. Other than that I'm afraid we're not making much headway.”
“I figured. Goodness he looks worse than before,” Catherine replied, trying to let her tears spill over. “I-I should have been here when he coded. He c-could have died!”
“It's ok Catherine. Sandra needed you. Don't feel guilty.”
Catherine took a deep, shaky breath. “I feel so lost,” she admitted.
“Me too,” Frank agreed. “But the important thing now is that we are here for him no matter what.”
Mark suddenly tensed up before his body began to seize. His arms and legs twitched wildly and Frank pressed the call button over and over. “Catherine get someone in here now!” he yelled, stumbling to Mark's side as monitors began to go off, filling the room with noise. “Mark please buddy! You're going to be ok.”
Catherine was nearly frozen in fear but Frank's yell roused her. She raced to the door, nearly running into Verna who was just coming in. She took one look and yelled for Dr. Whitaker before rushing over, yanking off the sheets and trying to hold Mark's flailing body down. Catherine buried her face in Frank's shoulder, unable to watch.
“Come on Mark. Please be ok!” Frank begged as Dr. Whitaker ran in. “Get him on another fever reducer and muscle relaxers!” he ordered, taking over holding Mark down.
“Sir I can't tell if he's trying to fight the breathing tube or not,” Verna replied as she did as the doctor asked. The pilot's eyes suddenly opened, cloudy and fever glazed.
“If he doesn't calm down in the next fifteen seconds, I want him put in restraints,” Dr. Whitaker added.
Verna reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Wait,” she said softly as Mark's body relaxed a bit. “This might be goodbye.”
Mark's eyes drifted lazily over to the direction of Frank's voice. Frank took his hand. “Mark? It's ok. I'm right here,” he assured him, his voice husky with unshed tears. Catherine watched with a wide-eyed, frightened look.
To their surprise, Mark gave a short nod as Frank finished talking. “Mark please!” Tears began to roll down Frank's cheeks. “Please buddy you've got to fight!” Mark gave another nod and his eyes closed.
Frank sank weakly into his chair. “I-I can't keep doing this.”
Verna was silent as she waited tensely to see if Mark's heart would stop. She looked at Dr. Whitaker anxiously as he pressed a stethoscope to Mark's chest and listened to his heartbeat. “It's steady,” he announced.
“Oh thank God,” Catherine breathed, her body relaxing in relief.
“Where's Dylan?” Frank asked. “He needs to know.”
“At the hotel. Kelsey said she found him at the pub.”
Frank stiffened. “He what?!”
“H-he and Kelsey are jealous I think. They've been acting so weird lately,” Catherine sighed.
A look of sudden realization and understanding spread across Frank's face. “Oh. Well that explains it. I have noticed a change in their personality towards certain people, including me.” He rubbed his aching temples, trying to fight off the waves of exhaustion crashing over his body.
“I can't handle this. I just can't. I need to get back to Sandra. She doesn't do well without me. Maybe you should give Dylan a call,” Catherine suggested.
Frank nodded. “Perhaps I will. You come back anytime.” He waited for Catherine to leave before pulling out his cell phone and dialing Dylan's number.
“What do you want?” Dylan answered the phone a minute later.
Swallowing hard, Frank prayed for wisdom. “I just want to apologize.”
“Apologize for what?”
“I-I feel like I'm causing trouble. Mark was your friend for years. You were everything to him until I showed up and ruined everything.” Frank's voice was husky.
Dylan's reply was harsh. “Doesn't matter now does it? Mark made his choice.”
Frank sighed. “Look. I need to make it up to you. As soon as Mark recovers a bit, I-I'll leave. And I won't come back. You can go back to the way it once was, the way it was meant to be.”
“There isn't going to be any of that!” Dylan snapped. “You heard what the doctors said!”
“Dylan he's still fighting! He told me himself!”
“I can't do this. I can't deal with this. I'm going home tomorrow.”
“You can't do that! You'll fail him Dylan! You can't leave!”
“I-I have to Frank.” Dylan hung up without another word, hearing his voice crack with tears.
Verna came in just then and began to change the IV bags before checking on the tubes in Mark's chest and stomach. She looked up when Frank slammed his phone down onto the chair, looking very upset. “Is everything alright?” she asked worriedly.
Frank shook his head and put a finger to his lips, gesturing to Mark who seemed to be asleep. Verna came over and sat beside him. “What's wrong?” she whispered.
“We've lost one of the team,” Frank mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Verna pressed.
“Dylan's leaving. And it's all my fault.” Frank buried his head in his hands.
Verna put a hand on Frank's shoulder. “How is it your fault?” she asked gently.
Frank sighed. “It's a long story. I was friends with Mark years ago. W-we lost contact and Dylan became the friend I used to be to him. We were reunited not too long ago and I-I guess I just took over the role I used to have.”
“Frank you didn't do anything wrong. It sounds like Dylan is just jealous.”
“But that's just it! He won't come over to see Mark and he said he's going home tomorrow.”
“You know, if he can't get over himself long enough to visit then he wasn't a very good friend to begin with.” Verna paused, hesitating. “There's something I should tell you.”
“What is it?” Frank asked miserably.
“Well I wasn't supposed to tell you this since Dr. Whitaker didn't think he'd make it through the night, but when the explosion went off, he suffered from flail chest. Part of his chest broke away from the rest, near his arm...”
Frank's face drained of color. “A-and you're telling me this because...”
“There may be some paralysis of his left arm. He may never be able to use it again.”
All attempts at maintaining Frank's composure crumbled to dust. Frank buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with uncontrolable sobs. Verna swallowed hard, realizing she should have picked a better time to tell him. “Shh-shh it's ok. I said maybe. The surgeons may have caught it in time or it may just be temporary. We won't know until he wakes up. Shhh. It's ok Frank. It's alright,” she tried to soothe him.
“N-no no!” Frank sobbed. “I-I can't take this any more! Dylan's gone, Kelsey's upset, Mark is dying, Sandra is injured and there is nothing I can do! I-I can't take this any longer. I feel like I'm about to go crazy or something. I can't do this by myself!”
“Hey hey, it's alright. I'm here and I'm going to do everything I can for Mark, ok? I think you need some sleep Frank. You're exhausted. He's good for now and everything is quiet. Go get some sleep. Maybe you need to talk to Dylan face to face before he leaves. And Kelsey sounds like she could use a good talking to as well. Should I go tell his sister?”
Frank made a major effort to get himself under control again. “I-I can't leave him. And Kelsey has to resolve this issue with Catherine herself. I don't think anything I say will do any good right now. And no, please don't tell her. I don't think she could handle any more bad news.”
“Well at least maybe step out and get some fresh air. You need a break. Maybe go talk to Dylan. I'll keep a close eye on him,” Verna promised. “He's in excellent hands.”
Nodding, Frank got to his feet. “I think I will take a walk. I need to clear my head. See you soon,” he said as he headed out the door. The cold night air was a refreshing relief from the stuffy hospital air. Taking several deep breaths, Frank felt calmer as his head cleared a bit. Not exactly paying attention to where he was going, the elderly man arrived a few minutes later at a frozen lake. There was a figure standing on the edge of the dock who looked rather familiar. Cautiously walking over, Frank cleared his throat and the man turned around. Dylan.
“What are you doing here?” Dylan asked coldly. His hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets as he had no gloves to keep them warm. Each exhale sent a cloud of steam into the crisp air.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Frank answered quietly, bowing his head as he shifted his weight to his good knee. “Honestly I'm trying to figure out how to make things right.”
Dylan frowned. “There is nothing to make right. Mark made his choice.”
“Wait a minute. Don't go bringing him into this. This issue is between you and me,” Frank replied.
“Mark's a big boy,” retorted Dylan, “he can make his own decisions and he chose to backstab me.”
“And how exactly did he do that?” Frank countered.
“He abandoned me! I don't bring him a stitch of comfort now. When he needs something, he asks for you. Not me,” he added with contempt.
“You just proved my point,” Frank answered gently. “This is my fault. I never should have told you what happened back in that godforsaken desert. I should have just left things as they were. But, I must admit, you didn't give him much of a chance to want you anyway. You always asked me to.”
“Well I didn't have much of a choice did I?” Dylan spat. “I couldn't just let him go into cardiac arrest. I had to appease him somehow!”
“I'm not just talking about that Dylan! There have been numerous times!” Frank paused and took a shaky breath. “I-I can't be much help to him now either. I'm completely helpless to do anything about it, now that he's p-paralyzed...” Frank's voice trailed off as he ran his hands through his graying hair.
Dylan gasped. “W-wait. What?! M-Mark can't be paralyzed! H-he can't fly if he's paralyzed!” The younger man's demeanor had completely changed. He now looked pale and desperate.
Frank stared hard at his shoes. “Y-yeah the doc said his left arm m-may be paralyzed. Dylan if that's the case I need some help and support here. Mark needs you just as much as he needs me whether he realizes it or not. I can't be with him every minute and I need someone I can depend on.”
Dylan wasn't listening anymore. “H-his left? That's his dominant arm. H-he'll never be able to fly again.” he sat down helplessly on a nearby bench, holding his head in his hands. “Why couldn't it be me?! I can live without flying but Mark can't!”
Sitting down beside him, Frank regarded Dylan quietly for a moment before speaking. “We-we've got to be there for him no matter what. That's what friends are for. Please just let's put this conversation behind us and more on as friends willing to do anything we can for Mark. It's his life on the line Dylan. We both know that. Fighting isn't helping anything.”
Ever so slowly, Dylan nodded. “A-alright. I'm...sorry,” he mumbled.
“And I as well,” Frank affirmed, shivering in his coat. “Let's go see our friend, shall we?”
I'd...I'd like that very much,” Dylan agreed, standing up.
Frank managed a slight smile. “I'm guessing you'll want the details of the past few hours?” he guessed as the two began to make their way back towards the hospital in the frosty night air.
Chapter 10:
Kelsey sat in Sandra's silent room, watching Catherine jealously. Sandra's sister was sitting beside the bed, holding her hand. She hadn't moved in hours and neither had Catherine. It was infuriating to Kelsey who had always been the one Sandra relied on, always been her shoulder to cry on and the two had hardly spent a day apart since they had met so many years ago. Kelsey heaved a long, drawn out sigh as she impatiently tapped her foot rhythmically on the hard floor, not loud enough to draw attention, but enough to satisfy her.
The movement caught Catherine's eye and she straightened in her seat a bit. “Kelsey are you ok?” she asked kindly. “You've been a bit...cranky lately. Do you need to rest?”
“I can leave if I'm bothering you,” Kelsey replied in a slightly cold tone.
“No, I'd rather you just tell me what's wrong.”
“You.” The words were out before Kelsey realized she had said them.
Catherine seemed taken aback. “Wh-what?” she stammered.
“It-it's just, Sandra has been my best friend forever and now you're here taking over. I feel like you two have left me in your shadow.” Kelsey was too upset now to realize how selfish she sounded.
“Ok...” Catherine replied slowly. “I don't quite get your point.”
“Look. Ever since I met Sandra, we've always been there for each other and done everything together. Everything. She's always been there for me, and I've always been there for her. We're practically sisters and I don't want you taking the spot she holds for me in her heart.”
Catherine was a bit upset herself now and she could feel herself getting angry. “You're basing this all on assumption now.”
Kelsey finally realized what she was saying. “I-I'm sorry. I know I'm being difficult and I apologize. I'm just...extremely loyal to my friends and I just don't want anything getting away of our friendship. I mean no disrespect to you.”
“I've lost everything Kelsey!” Catherine answered quickly, roused and not quite ready to apologize. “My real parents, my adopted parents and now possibly my brother. Don't ask me to lose my sister too.”
Cheeks burning with shame, Kelsey quickly stood up. “I wasn't asking you to do such a thing. I-oh never mind, I feel like such an idiot.” gathering the last remains of her pride, Kelsey mumbled a hasty goodnight and turned to leave.
“Kelsey wait,” Catherine called. “I-I'm sorry. I'm not myself tonight. I'm exhausted and all this stress...I know it's no excuse but I really am sorry. I'm not trying to take over and if you want to sit with her you can. I shouldn't have barged in like I did...I'm kinda like you, very protective of the people I love.”
Relaxing somewhat, Kelsey sat back down and shrugged. “Thank you. I just needed to hear that I guess, set my mind at ease. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have overreacted like I did. Same excuse as you,” she grinned weakly.
“A-alright then. Glad we can move on as friends,” Catherine smiled back.
Frank and Dylan quietly slipped into Mark’s room. At the sight of the unconscious pilot, Dylan’s breath caught in his throat. Almost hesitantly, he walked over, taking Mark’s hand into his own, squeezing it reassuringly. “I-I’m here buddy,” he assured his friend in a voice filled with emotion. “I’m here now and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there before. But I’m here and I won’t leave you again,” he promised.
Frank smiled his satisfaction as he watched over Dylan’s shoulder. “That’s right Mark. You’ve got a whole team rooting for you.”
To both their surprise, Mark’s body suddenly twitched and he took a half-breath against the ventilator, his body tensing up at the movement. “H-holy cow!” Frank exclaimed, completely surprised. “Look what you did, Dylan!”
Just then, Verna rushed in. “My pager beeped for him. What’s the matter?” She asked, slightly out of breath, having been running from the desk down the hall.
“He just tried to take a breath on his own!” Dylan answered, his eyes never leaving Mark. The pilot tried again to take a breath and his heart race increased dramatically. Verna paged Doctor Whittaker, who arrived just moments later.
“What’s going on?” He asked in his thick Russian accent.
“Sir, Mark is trying to breathe on his own,” Verna informed promptly.
Dr. Whittaker’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He did? I didn’t think he’d even have the strength to move.” Pulling his stethoscope from around his neck, the doctor listened to Mark’s heartbeat. The room was deathly silent until he straightened. “Heartbeat is much stronger and steadier. If he keeps this up, he may have a chance. But I don’t want to push our luck. Verna, please sedate him so he can rest. I don’t want any strain on him whatsoever,” he directed.
Verna nodded compliantly. “Exactly what I was thinking, sir.” She turned to Dylan and Frank. “You two should probably get some rest. It’s really late and everything seems to be settling here.”
“Yeah Frank, Let’s get Kelsey and Catherine and head out. I’ve got hotel rooms for us,” Dylan added.
Frank hesitated. “I-I don’t know…I really don’t want to leave him…”
Verna gave them a reassuring smile as she carefully injected the sedative into Mark’s IV line. “It’s alright. You two need your sleep desperately. I’ll keep you updated. But Mark knows everything is alright now.”
Still reluctant, Frank nodded. “I doubt Catherine will want to leave Sandra, but it won’t hurt to ask. I’ll go warm up the car if you’d like to get them, Dylan,” he offered.
“Sounds good,” agreed Dylan as he headed to Sandra’s room. Kelsey was sitting in the chair on her phone, and Catherine was slumped over in her chair asleep, next to Sandra’s bed, her hand still holding the pale one of her sister’s. “Hey Kelsey, Frank and I were just going to the hotel and wanted to know if you’d like to join us. Mark seems to be making some progress and Verna insisted we catch up on some sleep. Are you game?”
It didn’t take Kelsey long to make up her mind. “Sure, that sounds good to me. These seats aren’t very comfortable for sleeping in…” she glanced at Catherine. “Didn’t seem to stop her though. She wouldn’t’ want to leave Sandra so I’ll just let her sleep. Hey, you mentioned my dad, I thought you two weren’t talking?” Kelsey stood up and followed Dylan out of Sandra’s room towards the car.
“We made up,” Dylan smiled. “What about you?”
“Same,” Kelsey grinned. Now let’s hurry up! It’s freezing out here!”
Quickening their paces, the two found the car and Frank in the passenger seat, rubbing his hands together vigorously. “Hey!” He greeted them. “Mind driving, Dylan? This knee of mine isn’t feeling too great and this cold weather isn’t helping.”
“Of course,” Dylan nodded, getting into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot. Once they checked into the hotel and found their rooms, all three crashed, falling asleep within mere minutes.
The next morning, Frank woke up early, despite the fact that they had been through such an exhausting day. Quietly knocking on Kelsey’s door, he found her already awake too. She let him into her room and together they watched the sunrise until Dylan came and joined them.
“How did you all sleep?” Dylan asked, trying to conceal a huge yawn.
“The bed was kinda hard, but I was out like a light,” Kelsey answered. “What about you? And boy! Would you look at this view!” she gestured to the magnificent sunrise, the sky filled with purple, yellow, orange and red. “It’s magnificent!”
“Eh, I’ve slept better,” he admitted. “But yes, it is beautiful. Wish Mark could see it. Shall we head to the hospital?”
Frank nodded his agreement at Dylan’s suggestion as Kelsey took out her phone and snapped a photo of the sunrise. “There! Now he can see it when he wakes up,” she smiled. “Let’s go.”
The three of them piled into the car and began the short drive to the hospital. “Are you going to see Sandra or Mark first, Kelsey?” Dylan asked as he pulled into a parking space.
“Probably Mark since I never got around to seeing him yesterday,” Kelsey answered.
“I hope he’s alright,” Frank mused worriedly, glancing at his phone. “I haven’t heard anything. Hopefully that’s a good thing…” his voice trailed off.
When they arrived at Mark’s room, they found Verna bending over him, listening to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope. Mark’s eyes were closed in slumber. Hearing movement, Verna straightened and greeted them with a welcoming smile. “Good morning!”
“How is he?” Frank asked, not returning the nurse’s attempt to be friendly. He stepped over to Mark and looked the pilot over anxiously.
“Looking a little better today,” Verna answered. “He got another breath in after you guys left. Who is this?” she asked, gesturing to Kelsey who gave her a smile.
“I’m Kelsey Meirs,” the young doc greeted, shaking Verna’s hand. “Frank is my dad. I’ve been Mark’s doctor since way back,” she added.
Just then, Mark seemed to arouse, taking several breaths against the ventilator as he fought the machine. He was strong enough to cause the machine to register the commotion, and it beeped loudly. Verna paged Doctor Whittaker, and he hurried in, moments later.
“What’s going on?” He asked, looking over Mark’s straining body.
“Sir, he keeps fighting the ventilator. I don’t know about you, but I’d suggest we take him off of it,” replied Verna. The others gave her a hopeful expression.
Doctor Whittaker hesitated visibly. “He’s been on it less than twenty four hours, and not long ago I was telling you he wouldn’t likely make it through the night.” Pausing, the doctor examined Mark in silence before turning back to the others. “He does seem much stronger though, and the longer he’s on the ventilator, the more dependant he becomes. I’ll take him off of it, but I want him on an oxygen mask. And if he gets tired or isn’t strong enough, I’m putting him back on the vent,” he decided.
As if he had been listening the whole time, Mark’s eyes slowly flickered open, startling everyone. Lazily he looked around the room, his eyes settling on Frank who took his hand and squeezed it gently in reassurance.
Stepping over to Mark’s side, Dr. Whittaker smiled gently. “Ok pal, you’re doing so great that I’m going to take this tube out of your throat. How’s that sound?”
Mark gave a small nod of understanding, as Verna walked over with the oxygen mask and an ambu bag. “All ready sir,” she announced.
“Great. Alright Mark, I need you to give me a big cough.” As Mark did, Dr. Whittaker eased the ventilator tube out of his throat and Verna pressed the mask to his face, turning on the oxygen. “Excellent. Deep, slow breaths, Mark. You need to stay calm. Verna, be ready with that ambu bag in case he gets too tired. That’s it Mark, just relax.”
Taking deep breaths as instructed, Mark suddenly looked down at his arm, seeming to be concentrating extremely hard. His breathing sped up as he looked at Dr. Whittaker, panic beginning to appear on his face. Frank swallowed hard.
“Mark? Listen to me. I need you to stay calm, alright?” Dr. Whittaker’s voice reminded him, a bit more strongly this time.
“M-my arm…wh-why can’t I m-move m-my a-arm?!” Mark rasped hoarsely before exploding into violent coughing.
“Easy Mark. You had a little a-accident…” Frank stammered.
“Now listen, it’s not necessarily permanent, but-“ Doctor Whittaker began, only to be interrupted by the panicking pilot.
“Wh-why can’t I m-move my a-arm?! Wh-why can’t I f-feel a-anything? Why c-can’t I move it?!” His heart was racing now, and the heart monitor was mapping out an ever increasing pace.
Frank’s voice was filled with pity. He tried to comfort his friend, but knew it wouldn’t do much good, if any. “Y-your injuries were pretty severe M-Mark. But we’re going to d-do everything we can to get it mobile again.”
“No! No! I can’t f-fly! N-no! It c-can’t be!” Mark managed to push himself up on his good arm as he slipped into a full blown panic attack. “N-no! I can’t f-fly if it’s p-paralyzed! P-please n-no!” he sobbed, trying to get up.
“Verna! Get him on a sedative now!” Dr. Whittaker ordered.
“
Mark, listen to me!” Frank urged, trying to calm him down. “It’s going to be ok. You have to stay calm for me!” He begged as Verna ran out to get the sedative.
“N-no! I c-can’t fly. It’s m-my dominant a-arm. Why?!” Mark yelled, choking now, as coughs racked his body.
“Panicking isn’t going to help anything, Mark! I know you’re shocked and frightened. Just listen to me. They caught it early so there’s a good chance you’ll regain function in it,” Frank replied, trying to get Mark to lay back down.
Verna returned just then, and injected the heavy dose of sedative into Mark’s IV. It began to take affect in mere seconds and Frank eased him back as the pilot’s body began to relax. “N-no. N-no pl-please…I h-have t-to…” Mark’s eyes were already slipping shut though he tried to fight the overwhelming drug.
“Shhhhh,” Frank soothed. “Just relax and let the medicine do its thing. You’ll be alright.”
Without another word, Mark drifted off into unconsciousness.
Verna grit her teeth. “That really wasn’t good for a heart that’s already coded twice in such a short time.”
Frank shook his head. “He’ll pull through. He has to.”
“Verna, he’s torn some of his stitches,” Dr. Whittaker announced. “Let’s fix those now.”
Nodding, Verna gathered the supplies and got to work. “Honestly, I’m a little worried about him,” she admitted.
Frank hesitated. “He has PTSD. I’m sure that’s not helping.”
“I agree. Panic attacks are not good for a patient in his condition.”
Doctor Whittaker nodded his agreement. “I want him kept on a sedative for now.”
“I agree,” Verna replied. “But at some point, therapy is going to have to be arranged for him. His life is going to be drastically changed.”
“I’ve never seen him that scared before…” Dylan mumbled from his chair, still dazed.
Frank buried his head in his hands. “I have. Back when we were captured,” he admitted shakily. “Never thought I’d have to live through it again.”
“B-but he looked so defeated and helpless. Isn’t there anything at all you can do for him? What if he never regains use of that arm?!”
Verna sighed heavily. “Sir we are trying everything but there is only so much we can do. Therapy will help, yes, but the outcome isn’t certain. It is the best way to go though. And have you ever considered hippotherapy for his PTSD? There’s lots of research out there, it could be good for him.”
Dylan’s mind was still on Mark’s arm. “He has a therapy dog that’s been very good for him. It’s just….that’s his dominate arm. He’s going to have to relearn how to do everything. And he’ll never be able to fly again!”
“Never say never,” Dr. Whittaker interjected. “I’ve seem miracles before, Mark is alive today because of them. You’ve just got to be strong for him. You’ve got to make him believe that he can regain some if not all of his previous function in that arm. It just might work.”
Dylan raked his hand through his hair, overwhelmed. “I need some air. I’m going to check on Sandra. Oh, Frank…” the co-pilot hesitated.
“Does Catherine know about Mark’s paralysis?” he nearly stumbled over the word.
Frank shook his head. “No. I was hoping we wouldn’t be faced with such a problem but now we have to tell her,” he sighed.
“I’ll go with Dylan, you can have some time with Mark,” Kelsey spoke up, having been silent up until this point. “Keep us updated. We’ll bring you some lunch later.”
As the others left the room, Verna finished up with Mark and pat Frank’s shoulder kindly. “I’ll leave you alone for awhile. Call me if you need anything,” she reminded gently as she too left the little hospital room.
Despite their earlier apprehension, Catherine took the news better than they thought she would. She still seemed dazed and upset, but the reassurance that it wasn’t for sure that it was permanent seemed to help.
Frank was dozing by Mark’s side a couple of hours later, when the pilot startled him by twitching a little, his eyes fluttering open. Frank hesitated, his finger on the call button, ready to push it if needed.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mark mumbled flatly. “I’d really rather not have to go through withdraw again.”
“They only did it because you were on the verge of a panic attack,” Frank reminded him gently.
Mark ignored him, pulling off the oxygen mask with his good hand, letting it hang around his neck. He looked at his useless extremity and began to focus very hard on trying to flex his hand. His heart rate began to speed up, mapping out his growing frustration and desperation.
“Mark stop,” Frank urged. “Please. Focus on something else for awhile. That can come later.”
“There is nothing else!” Mark huffed. “This is all that matters now. This is the difference between my life and nothing!” he snapped frustrated, his breathing already becoming labored.
Frank gently replaced the mask over Mark’s face. “Listen Mark. I want you to rest. Your arm can wait.”
“No!” Mark cried. “I’m going to move this arm! I-I don’t need to sleep. But I have to be ok. And this is not ok.” The pilot was becoming more and more agitated.
“Mark please just listen to me for once! You have to calm down or they’re going to put you under again!” Frank tried to reason with him.
Sadly, Mark wasn’t ready to listen to reason. “How can you even begin to understand?! You have both your arms. I-I have t-to f-fix this. I c-can’t……can’t…” his voice trailed off into wheezing as breathing became difficult. Tears ran down the pilot’s face as he gave up, defeated.
“Easy Mark. Just take it easy,” Frank soothed, feeling awful for his friend. “There’s enough time for that later. Just rest for now. I’m right here and you’re perfectly safe.”
“J-just leave me alone!” Mark huffed, trying to roll onto his side. Tubes and wires prevented his doing so and he let out a frustrated yell.
Frank was silent a moment, thinking. He began to recite one of the many Bible passages he had memorized, ones he used to murmur to the pilot when they were rescued, his voice calm and soothing. Mark’s eyes eventually slipped shut, as he was completely exhausted from all his efforts. Frank continued talking to him, his words both in English and German.
Verna came in a few minutes later. “Hey, how is he doing?” she asked softly, eying Mark.
“He woke up but be quiet, I think he’s gone back to sleep,” Frank informed.
“Oh well I’ve just come to look him over,” answered Verna, examining Mark very quickly. Her expression grew concerned.
Frank’s face paled as he stiffened. “What is it Verna? What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“His stats look terrible right now! How long have they been like this?”
“Not too long. He was rather upset about his arm. But if he’s asleep, they should settle shortly,” Frank guessed.
“No, like they are getting bad as we speak. I’m going to bump up his oxygen and try to get some fluids into him.”
“Please do,” Frank urged, seemingly on edge.
“Here, try to wake him up, his fever is higher too,” Verna mused. “I want him to drink some water, it might help to get his temperature down.”
Frank lay a hand on Mark’s shoulder, gently trying to rouse him. “Mark? Mark buddy, wake up. Can you open your eyes for me?”
“Huh..wha?” Mark mumbled, dragging his eyes open. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Thank you. Your fever is higher, and I wanted you to drink some water and I need a blood sample,” Verna said as she approached with a cup of water.
Mark managed to drink a few sips. Verna inserted the needle into Mark’s arm and began filling the vials with blood. Mark gasped and gripped his stomach.
“Easy Mark, easy. Verna it’s probably about time for some more painkillers,” Frank suggested.
“Let me finish here,” Verna answered, bumping Mark’s oxygen up yet again. Frank looked at her worriedly, then back to Mark. It wasn’t long before she finished. “Ok I’m going to send these to the lab. I’d like to get the doctor in here before we give him his pain meds. I want to check his chest and stomach to see how far this infection has deteriorated.” With that, she paged Doctor Whitaker.
He stepped into the room a few minutes later, clipboard in hand. “Is everything ok?”
“Sir, he’s deteriorating very quickly,” Verna said, stepping to the door and lowering her voice. “Low intake on oxygen and he’s in quite a lot of pain, I’m suspecting abdominal, although I’m not sure. Heart rate is elevated, fever has risen and blood pressure is not happy,” she reported.
Dr. Whittaker’s face darkened with worry. “I want an ultrasound stat.”
Mark groaned. “Wh-what’s the p-point? I’m u-useless anyway. N-no point in f-fixing it. N-not worth it,” he gasped weakly.
His words stung Frank. “Why would you say that?! It’s not true Mark!”
“U-useless now. Everything th-that made m-me special is g-gone. C-can’t even get dressed on my own anymore. P-Project C-Cobolt will reject m-me. I can’t fly anymore. I’m n-nothing now. I’m not worth it. L-look at me!” he gestured weakly to all the wires and tubes.
Frank shook his head. “Mark that isn’t true and you know it!”
“P-prove me otherwise,” Mark snapped bitterly.
“It’s not a hopeless case Mark,” Frank reminded, trying to keep calm himself.
“J-just leave me alone. I’m useless!” Mark repeated. “Agh!” he cried, gripping his stomach. He fell silent as he tried to take deep breaths.
Verna wheeled in the ultrasound machine. “Alright sir, here you are,” she announced to Doctor Whittaker.
He turned on the machine. “Alright Mark, I need you to be still for me ok?” he said firmly but gently as he smeared on the gel and began his examination.
Mark moaned. “C-can’t breathe…can’t br-breathe…” he gasped, trying to lie still.
“Hang in there Mark,” Frank encouraged, laying his hand over Mark’s for reassurance.
“Verna, bump up his oxygen again,” Dr. Whittaker instructed as his eyes narrowed, his gaze on the screen. “Oh goodness…” he mumbled under his breath.
“What’s wrong sir?” Verna asked, giving Mark even more oxygen.
“St-stop talking a-about me like I’m n-not here!” Mark cried desperately. “Agh!”
“Frank, Verna, can I talk to you outside a moment?” Dr. Whittaker asked quietly.
Verna followed them both out. “What’s wrong sir?” she asked, genuinely concerned. Frank was nearly shaking with fear.
“The antibiotics are doing nothing. His infection has spread, a lot. The only possible way to save him is to do emergency surgery. I’m so very sorry,” Whittaker sighed.
“What? No!” Frank gasped. “This can’t be happening!”
Verna shook her head sadly. “This is very risky. I don’t know how much more he can take, physically or mentally. It’s…almost as if he’s given up and quit fighting. He started to go downhill very quickly after he found out about his arm.”
“I understand that. But he’ll die if we don’t do something and do I quickly,” Whittaker explained calmly.
“I g-guess we don’t have any choice,” Frank sighed, sounding absolutely miserable.
“Do you want to tell him, or shall I?” Verna asked, looking between the two.
“Women have a way of breaking news more gently,” Dr. Whittaker hinted.
Verna sighed as she opened the door and led the others back into his room. “Mark, I’m very sorry, but the infection is spreading very rapidly. If we don’t operate now, you will die.”
Chapter 11
“No! No more!” Mark yelled. “Nobody else is going to cut me open. No! I’m not. No!” his words trailed off in a groan of agony. “N-no no-agh!” Monitors began to go off.
Frank stepped up to Mark’s bedside, looking him square in the eyes. There was an expression of grim determination on his face. “Listen Mark. I am your friend. And as such, it is my job to make sure that you are taken care of. I’m not going to stand back and watch you die, you mean way too much to me. You have to cooperate with me Mark. I’ll see to it that you do. Understand?” Frank was trying too hard to get his point across that he didn’t realize he sounded quite as harsh as he did.
“No. You’re all liars! Y-you promised me I-I was gonna be ok and I’m not! I don’t trust a-any of you!” Mark’s breathing was coming in harsh, raspy gasps and his heart rate was extremely high.
Verna ran out to get a sedative as Frank continued. “As long as you’re still alive, there’s hope. I’m not giving up on you and I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to keep my word. You know me better than that Mark. You’ve got a lot of people who care about you and you need to stick around.”
Just then, Verna returned with the sedative. She went to put it in Mark’s IV, but even in his sickened state, the pilot was too quick for her. “No!” he screamed, lashing out, knocking the vial from her hands. It shattered everywhere. Mark sobbed helplessly as he shrank away from everyone.
“Get another!” Whittaker mouthed to Verna and she slipped out to fetch it.
“Mark, you have to just calm down! Please. You’re just making things worse,” Frank begged.
“Yeah I’ve been told that before!” Mark wheezed. “Gee I wonder who said that. Oh yeah. My dad!” The room went horribly silent. “My dad told me all the time that I made everything worse! A-and you’ve turned into him.” His voice trembled as tears ran down the pilot’s cheeks.
Frank staggered back from the bed, completely devastated. “M-Mark…I-I didn’t mean…” his eyes filled with tears as he stopped talking, at a loss for words.
Verna returned. Whittaker turned to her. “I think we should just go ahead and take him down to the OR. It would be easier to just put him under with anesthetic rather than trying to sedate him. Especially with his past experiences and addiction.”
“Good, let’s get it done.” Verna nodded her approval. Dr. Whittaker wheeled Mark down to the OR. Verna took the opportunity to go over to
Frank who was just staring blankly after them. “Hey, I know you’re hurt, but what Mark is experiencing is normal. It’s scary to be so helpless and not be able to do the things you love. I’m certain he’s just lashing out because he feels trapped. But you and I both know he’s going to fight Dr. Whittaker with the anesthetic. He needs you.”
Frank groaned. “I don’t think he wants me Verna.”
“He does, Frank. He may not think so but he does. Now come on,” Verna urged.
Nodding reluctantly, Frank followed the nurse to the OR. They found Mark groaning and trying to turn his face away from the mask with the anesthetic. He looked over and saw Frank. “N-no…don’t let th-them…” he begged, trying desperately not to breathe in the fumes.
“Mark it’s got to be done. Please I’m begging you,” Frank pleaded as he took his friend’s limp hand in his own. Mark looked up at him, absolute terror in his eyes. “I know you’re scared. We all are. But I want…no, I need you to know that I’m right here for you. We all are. We’ll get through this. I promise.”
Finally giving up, Mark took a deep breath, breathing in the anesthetic. Frank was quick to praise him, continuing to offer encouragement. Mark was already getting drowsy but he gripped Frank’s hand for all he was worth, though it was weak at best.
“That’s right Mark, just relax,” Frank told him softly.
Mark’s eyes slipped shut as he surrendered completely to the drugs, his hand still loosely clasped around Frank’s. The elderly man’s eyes closed in utter relief.
Verna’s voice brought him back to the present. “You got him doc?” she asked, noting the change in Mark’s heart rate and breathing as the drugs pulled him completely under. “Frank, you can’t stay. I’ll walk you back to the Waiting Room.
Frank wanted to protest, but he knew it was true so he glumly followed her. Verna gave him a quick hug. “We’ll do everything in our power to fix this. I promise Frank. Keep up hope.” She gave him the most reassuring smile that she could muster and hurried back to where Dr. Whittaker and Mark were waiting.
“Keep a close eye on his stats,” Whittaker instructed. “Blood pressure and oxygen are not happy. This is going to be a risky surgery. I want the ambu bag and defibrillators close. You ready?” At Verna’s nod, he took a deep breath. “Hand me the iodine swab and a marker.”
Grabbing the items, Verna watched as Whittaker cleaned and carefully marked the area, asking for a scalpel soon after. She picked up the metal object, praying silently in her head as she offered it to him with her blue gloved hands. He nodded his thanks. “Here goes…”
Frank sat in the waiting room, dazed. Finally, he pulled out his phone, sending Dylan a quick text. “Mark is back in surgery.”
Dylan’s face drained of color as he opened the text and read it. “What?! What for?!” he quickly replied.
“Infection is very bad. Has spread a lot,” Frank answered, dreading every word he typed out.
“Where are you? Do you want me to come?” offered Dylan.
“Up to you, I think I’m going to sit in Mark’s room.”
“Let me re-phrase, do you need me to come? Are you ok?”
“Well, other than being completely devastated by our good friend just before surgery, I’m just peachy. You can come if you want, but I’ll get over it.”
“I’m coming.” Dylan turned to Kelsey as he stood up. “Frank said Mark is back in surgery, the infection has spread. I’ll be back later.” He gave her a worried smile and headed to Mark’s room where Frank was sitting, staring at the wall. “Hey, you sure you’re doing alright?” he asked kindly, trying to mask his own worry.
Frank looked up. “No. No I’m not ok,” he admitted.
“What happened?” Dylan asked, sitting beside the elderly character.
“I-I asked him to be still…didn’t think and told him that he was making everything worse. H-he accused me of being like his father. He d-doesn’t trust us anymore.” A look of utter exhaustion and hopelessness was etched on Frank’s face.
Dylan was silent for a moment. “I…don’t know what to say.”
“You and me both,” Frank mumbled miserably.
“You know how he gets. “He-he’s probably just scared. Mark likes to be independent and now he has to rely on everyone.”
“Yeah, but he really upset me. I-I honestly don’t know how much more I can take. I try to be there for him…but a person can only take so much.”
“Don’t take it too hard. You know he thinks the world of you. Imagine being in his shoes.”
“Well he thinks the world of you too. He’s going to need all the help he can get.”
Dylan sighed. “I know. I know. This is going to be hard for all of us.”
“You can say that again. Hey, how is Sandra?” Frank asked.
“She’s better, she was sleeping when I left,” Dylan answered. “Some good news there at least.”
Frank nodded. “Goodness knows we need more of that.”
“Blood pressure is dropping,” Verna announced.
“Thank you,” Whittaker mumbled, concentrating on his work. “Get him on more blood.”
Verna did as asked. “Sir his heart rate is dropping as well.”
“Keep an eye on it. Goodness he’s in such bad shape. Verna, I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
The OR fell silent for a few minutes. Monitors suddenly began to beep and blare warning sounds. “Sir! Heart rate is dropping dangerously!” Verna announced.
“Get the defibrillators!” Whittaker ordered. “Come on Mark. Don’t code now. You were doing so well. Come on buddy.” He tried to hurry his work along, but he couldn’t speed up much and still keep things safe.
Verna snatched up the defibrillators just as Mark’s heart flatlined. A single monotone blared out of the monitor, filling everyone’s hearts with dread. For an instant, time seemed to freeze.
“Shock him Verna! Shock him now!” Whittaker yelled, snapping everyone out of the trance.
There was an electric buzz sound as the paddles charged. Verna placed them on Mark’s chest. “Clear!” she cried before delivering the shock. There was a jolt of energy and Mark’s body reacted to the shock, tensing up before falling lifelessly back onto the operating table with no results.
“Again!” Whittaker commanded, injecting a syringe of epinephrine into Mark’s chest.
“Clear!” Verna called as she delivered a second shock, again with not even the slightest of positive results.
Doctor Whittaker shook his head in frustration. “Shock him again!” He gave the pilot more stimulant, hoping to bring his limp body back to life.
Verna charged the paddles again. The room was deathly silent other than the monitors. Once again, she placed them on Mark’s still chest and shocked him. Still nothing. The nurse looked at Whittaker in defeat, her heart sinking.
“Come on. Try again. We can’t give up yet!” Whittaker yelled.
“Sir it’s been about two minutes since he flatlined!” Verna shocked him yet again. Nothing happened.
“Give me those!” Whittaker snapped as he snatched the defibrillators and delivered a fifth shock to the pilot’s body. Mark flopped back onto the table, no better than before. The heart monitor continued to blare out a single tone. Nobody moved. The room was void of voices.
“Get him on life support. Now. We need to let them say goodbye at least,” Whittaker finally spoke.
Verna tipped the pilot’s head back and inserted a breathing tube which she attached to a ventilator. “Sir, h-he’s got a huge hole in him.” Her voice was flat and dull as she tried to hide her emotions. The whole room felt like death and defeat. “I-If you want to stitch him up, I’ll let them know.” Her voice cracked, as she got choked up, unable to say anything for a moment.
Even Dr. Whittaker was silent, only nodded as he finished clearing out what was left of the infection and sewed the gaping wound shut, gently wiping the red blood from Mark’s still, white body. The operating room was utterly silent.
Verna stopped at the doorway to Mark’s room, looking at Dylan and Frank. The door was open, and for the moment they didn’t notice her.
She could just imagine. Their hopeful faces looking up at her, expecting good news. And here she was to tell them that their beloved friend was dead. Gone forever. Verna’s hand on the doorframe tightened as she took in a deep, shaky breath.
Frank looked up, noticing her. “Verna?” he stood up quickly, as did Dylan. “H-how’s Mark?” his eyes peered searchingly into hers.
For a moment, Verna just stood there, unsure how to break the news. Tears threatened to spill, but she managed to hold them back, for now. That could come later but she had to hold herself together for their sake. It was the least she could do. She forced her feet to move forward, carrying her into the room. “I-I’m sorry. He didn’t pull through the surgery. He-he’s gone.”
Chapter 12:
Frank’s jaw dropped. His ears couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Dylan wasn’t in much better shape, he was also gaping at Verna in utter shock. “N-no!” Frank finally gasped. “No, it c-can’t be true!” his face was pure white.
This time, Verna couldn’t hold back the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I-I’m so…..so sorry.”
The room fell song. It was a long time before anyone moved, each trying to deal with the shock they felt. Finally, Frank glanced at Dylan.
“I…I…” Dylan’s voice trailed off. He was unable to say anything. He felt numb all over. Verna sighed, feeling very defeated.
“C-can we see him?” Frank asked, still not fully convinced.
Verna nodded, leading them into the OR. Mark was all cleaned up by then a white bandage was wrapped around the wound that Whittaker had sewn up. His hands lay folded neatly overtop of it and his eyes were closed, his face peaceful, almost looking as if he were sleeping, though the pilot’s face was as white as a ghost. The only movement was the ventilator gently making his chest rise and fall, almost like it was trying to fool them that Mark wasn’t really dead, though the heart monitor gave evidence to the contrary.
Frank’s heart sank as he saw the lifeless body of his friend. Emotions hit him all at once, causing him to stagger backwards. Dylan’s hands on his shoulder helped to steady him, but did nothing to comfort. “H-he’s on life support…why?” the elderly man asked huskily, hardly trusting his voice to speak.
“We-we were hoping we could get some life back into him,” Verna admitted, feeling awful for what she was saying. “At least enough to say goodbye. But he’s gone. H-he couldn’t fight anymore.” Despite her efforts, a single tear slipped down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away, trying to be discreet as possible.
Forcing his feet to carry him forward, Frank’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of what was once his best friend, his companion, the face of a man who had saved his life on multiple occasions, a man whose own life he had also saved. And he was gone. Never again would he see that cocky grin, hear the hearty laughter or share stories together. It was over. Tears spilled down Frank’s face as the numbness wore off, replaced by an overpowering ache of grief.
Frank reached out, taking Mark’s limp hand. He was still warm but it wouldn’t last long. His fingers wrapped around the pilot’s and squeezed gently, even now expecting a return gesture of fondness. Only there was no life to give it back. Desperation arose in Frank’s chest. “No…no please buddy…” Frank whispered, gazing earnestly at him, hoping for something, anything. There was no response.
“You can’t leave me. Please!” his voice grew almost panic stricken.
Dylan looked on, tears falling silently down his face as he waited to let Frank have time to come to terms with the loss they were both feeling. “Mark, you have to wake up!” Frank placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders, shaking him gently. “Wake up! I can’t live without you. Mark! Don’t leave me!” Frank completely broke down then, crying too hard for anyone to make out what else he was sobbing out. He knelt by the bed, still holding Mark’s hand and pressed it against his face, crying bitterly, heartbrokenly.
Verna watched Frank plead with Mark, quietly wiping away tear after tear as she watched how helpless he sounded. Dylan was just standing there, pale and shaking as he looked blankly at them. He seemed to still be in shock.
All of a sudden, Mark’s fingers suddenly twitched ever so slightly. The heart monitor, which had been running a single line for the past twelve minutes blipped one tiny, faint blip. Everyone jumped, hearts nearly leaping out of their chests in absolute shock. Verna was the first to recover. “Oh my-Doctor Whittaker!” she yelled. Frank raised his head, absolute shock and bewilderment etched all over his face. He looked ten years older already.
Doctor Whittaker raced in. “Oh my word!” he grabbed a stimulant, releasing the contents into Mark’s chest “Come on buddy! Fight! Come on Verna we have to help him!” He snapped an ambu bag to the breathing tube and began to squeeze it rhythmically. “How’s his stats looking Verna?”
Mark’s fingers twitched again, another blip appearing on the heart monitor, followed by two more. “Come on Frank. Talk to him!” Verna urged. “I mean for someone who was dead and is trying to come back they don’t look half bad,” she answered Whittaker.
Frank gripped Marks hand, trying to keep his own from trembling. “Come on Mark. I can’t lose you a-again. Come on, fight! Fight for me Mark. Come back to us!”
“Mark? Mark are you with us?” Whittaker called, continuing to squeeze the bag.
Slowly but steadily, Mark’s heart rate gained strength and rhythm, evening out. Very slowly, slower than slow, his eyes began to open, his throat closing around the breathing tube. “F-Frank…” he called in the softest, faintest of whispers.
The sound of a van's engine shattered the quiet stillness of the night. The white vehicle rounded the corner, the two left tires nearly coming off the road such was the speed it was traveling. The brakes screeched to a halt as they arrived at their destination, an old bricked building long since abandoned at least outwardly. The foundation was still sturdy but some of the red bricks had crumbled and cracked. Long green vines had climbed up the five story structure giving it a creepy, almost haunted look.
The building was in a bad part of town, a place no decent citizen would ever venture into unless absolutely necessary and even then, weapons of protection would have been no doubt taken along for safety. The engine was turned off and the quiet of the night was once again resumed, but not for long. Two doors in the front of the van opened and quickly slammed shut with a loud clunk. A man had gotten out of the driver's side, and a woman had emerged from the passenger side. They seemed surprisingly at ease in the dangerous place they were in.
Both of them headed for the back of the white van and yanked the doors open. They spent a few seconds checking out the interior before reaching in and hauling out two limp bodies which they slung carelessly over their shoulders and trooped into the building, staggering a bit under the weight they carried.
The inside of the building was in better shape than the outside. In fact, it almost looked redone though not in the sense of most office buildings. The light was dingy and yellow, still adding to the haunted effect. The floors were swept reasonably clean though and the windows were not broken. A few forgotten cobwebs hung in the dark corners. The burly driver led the slender girl to a set of stairs and they descended them to the basement which extended past the borders of the building, newly redone in concrete. They walked down long halls and corridors until they stopped before a barred door which led to a small, dark cell. There they dropped their burdens on the hard floor and smiled at each other.
“Time to have some fun,” the muscular man with shiny black eyes sneered at his partner in crime.
“Oh Juhotta you know I cannot wait,” The girl, Lillian, grinned back just as evilly. She turned to the blonde headed girl laying senseless at her feet and gave her a harsh kick in the ribs. “Get up you lazy dog!” she yelled.
The other female on the ground seemed to suddenly come to life as she heard the yell. Her dark brown hair slid to her shoulders as she lifted her head. “Hey! Leave Sandra alone!” her voice was harsh as if she hadn't talked in quite some time.
“Do you need a kick too Catherine?” Lillian laughed heartlessly, soon joined by Juhotta.
“Oh bring it on sister!” Catherine challenged, now furious. “I'll smack you right in the gob!” She pushed herself up on shaky limbs.
Lillian seemed a bit taken aback by her prisoner’s spirit. “I think you'd much rather fight Juhotta,” she answered quickly with a slightly nervous laugh.
“Oh yeah tough guy? Bring it on!” Catherine retorted angrily.
Juhotta swiftly kneed her in the stomach and she bent double as she collapsed back onto the ground with a cry of pain. “Enough!” Juhotta ordered. “Now you two are gonna sit nice and quiet and when your friends realize you're gone tomorrow, I think we'll set up a little video chat.”
Sandra roused from her drugged state and winced at the look on Catherine's face. It didn't take long for her to put the pieces together despite how fogged up her brain was. “W-what are you going to do with us?” she asked hesitantly, fearfully, as she rubbed the sore knot on the back of her head.
“You'll find out,” Lillian smirked. “For now, get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow.” With that, the two girls' captors left and disappeared around the corner, leaving them in nearly pitch black darkness as the basement held hardly any light. Juhotta's wicked laugh slowly faded into the distance.
Sandra shivered at his heartless words and scooted closer to her friend Catherine. “Goodbye and good riddance for tonight then,” she whispered to Lillian and Juhotta under her breath.
Catherine wrapped her arms around herself in a hug,to comfort herself. “Oh what are we going to do?” she whispered fearfully, all earlier attempts at being sassy now gone.
Sandra shivered again. “I-I don't know,” she answered just as quietly. “It's s-so cold in here,” the young woman added, her teeth already beginning to chatter.
“Here, come here,” her friend offered, motioning for Sandra to come closer so they could share body heat. Sandra eagerly accepted and Catherine wrapped her arms around her friend, trying to stay warm.
“This reminds me of when I first met Kelsey,” Sandra murmured a little while later, unnerved by the silence and trying to keep up hope.
“What do you mean?” asked Catherine quietly, though she was a bit interested.
“I was sitting in the cave Mark's in now. It was the middle of winter and she found me crying.”
“I'm sorry,” Catherine apologized, now shivering herself. She huddled against Sandra, grateful that they were together. After a moment of silence she sighed. “Do you think everyone's ok?”
“I-I don't k-know,” Sandra answered shakily, her teeth chattering loudly. “I h-hope s-so.”
“Man I'm starving. Should've eaten something before we left,” Catherine half grinned a minute later in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Sandra nodded faintly. “Yeah. I- CATHERINE!” she screamed, grabbing onto her friend, practically shoving her over in fright. She began to shake all over.
“What?! What's wrong?!” Catherine yelped, now just as scared.
“I-it's a r-rat!” Sandra stammered, now starting to feel a little sheepish.
“Oh man don't scare me like that again!” Catherine gasped. “I thought Juhotta was back!”
“S-sorry,” Sandra gulped. “It's just...I'm really on edge right now. And rats really bother me.”
“I know. I'm really on edge too,” Catherine admitted.
Sandra sighed. “I'm sorry,” she apologized again. “I'm sorry I got us into this mess. I'm sorry I couldn't be a better doctor. I-I just don't know what to do.”
“Hey stop apologizing Sandra or you'll find yourself gobsmacked,” Catherine teased with a shaky grin.
Sandra looked confused. “What does that even mean?”
Catherine chuckled a bit. “I guess it just means a good punch in the mouth.”
“Maybe I need it. I'm certainly not thinking very straight right now,” Sandra mumbled dejectedly.
“Under the circumstances I think you're handling yourself fairly well. Don't worry. Everything will be ok.” Catherine assured her.
“You sound like my sister. She-” Sandra suddenly stiffened, pulling away from Catherine as her hand flew to her mouth. “I-I didn't mean to say t-that...” she stammered awkwardly.
“I never knew you had a sister,” Catherine mused curiously.
Sandra winced. “T-that's because no one but Kelsey knows I have one. I don't ever talk about it.”
“You might as well. We've got nothing better to do,” Catherine suggested.
The room was silent for a very long moment. Sandra clearly hesitated before clearing her throat. “I-I overheard my parents talking one night and they mentioned my sister. I asked Mom about it the next morning and she said if I ever brought it up again I'd be grounded for a year and then she punished me for eavesdropping.”
“What were they saying about her?” Catherine's voice had a curious note to it.
“M-Mom was crying, saying that she missed her and Dad was the complete opposite. It was the only time I ever heard them fight.”
Catherine sighed. “I hardly knew my real parents. I was given up for adoption a long time ago. Stewart was eight then and Mum was pregnant with Mark. I'm the middle child.”
“Do you even remember your real parents' names?” Sandra asked.
“Not really...all those memories are really kinda fuzzy. What were your parents' names?”
A sad look flashed across Sandra's face. “My mom's name was Janet and my dad was named Peter.”
Catherine suddenly jumped and stiffened, her expression looking as if she'd been shot.
Sandra's face paled in fright. “Wh-why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?!” she stammered.
“Y-your parents' real names.....t-they were J-Janet and Peter?” Catherine stumbled over the words.
“Yeah, why? My sister was named Megan.”
“Those names sound so familiar. Like something our of a dream,” Catherine answered slowly.
“Hmm. I've dreamed of meeting my sister so many times. I've played it out in my head countless nights. You look kinda how I imagined her,” Sandra smiled a bit. “Do you remember their last names?”
Catherine shook her head. “No, that was so long ago I don't think I can remember.”
Sandra grinned a bit sheepishly. “My last name is Valentine.”
Again, Catherine looked dazed. “T-that just sounds so familiar!” she repeated. Suddenly her eyes narrowed as she focused intently on a golden colored chain hanging around Sandra's neck. “What's that?” she asked, thinking of the similar one around her own neck.
“Oh this? Mom gave it to me not long b-before the accident. I kinda wore it to remind me of her.” She took it off. “Half of it's missing though.”
“S-Sandra......” Catherine gulped, removing her necklace and laying it on Sandra's hand next to the other one. Both of them were half hearts shaped partially like a puzzle piece in the center.
“Where d-did you get that?!” Sandra gasped as she stared at the golden objects in her hand. Almost mechanically she placed them together. They fit perfectly.
Catherine's hand flew to her mouth. “I-I've had this as long as I can remember.” She stared at Sandra, her eyes shining with tears. “D-do you realize what this means?! I-it makes perfect sense! The names sounded so familiar. I know I've heard them together before, last name and all.”
Tears were now streaming down Sandra's cheeks, the freezing temperature of the cell they were in now forgotten. “Y-you're my s-sister...” she whispered.
“I-I guess so!” Catherine was now crying tears of joy herself as she leaned in and wrapped Sandra in a warm embrace. “I-I can't believe this!”
“Oh me either!” Sandra agreed, finally letting go of Catherine so they could look each other in the eyes again and just grin at each other. “We have so much to catch up on!”
“I know! Tell me everything from the beginning!” Catherine urged.
The moments ticked by quickly. Both girls continued to chat long into the night, their troubles momentarily forgotten.
Chapter 2: Duty and Honor
A few hours earlier, several hundred miles away in a lonely forest in a dark cave, Mark Holbrook was lying feverishly in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Kelsey Meirs walked into the little hideout, holding a container of blackberries. She carried the fruits over to the sick pilot. “Mark?” The young female called, tossing her un-cooperating dark brown hair behind her shoulder. “Do you want some berries? They taste really good.” She held out the berries to him with purple stained fingers, trying to coax his failing appetite.
Mark's eyes drifted lazily over to her and then back to the ceiling. Kelsey sighed. “Can you try just one Mark?” she asked hopefully. Mark continued to stare at the ceiling.
Dylan's chair creaked as he stood up and walked over to his friend, wringing his hands in distress. His face was lined with worry, almost to the point of panic. Frank, Mark's dad, leaned forward in his own chair. “Mark, you ok buddy?” he asked gently.
Mark looked over at Frank and he shook his head faintly before returning his gaze to the ceiling. He was trembling. Kelsey bit her lip anxiously. “Dylan can you take his temperature again please?” she asked.
“What's wrong Mark?” Frank questioned as Dylan promptly proceeded to take the pilot's temperature. Mark continued to stare blankly ahead.
Kelsey glanced at the thermometer over Dylan's shoulder. “102.4,” she announced aloud.
“Mark please,” Frank urged. “Do you need something?” His friend's hand slowly crept up to his neck as Mark tried to find his dog tags. Frank reached into his pocket and placed the object into his hand. “Here,” he offered.
With shaking fingers and a fumbling hand, Mark attempted to place the chain around his neck. Frank immediately stood up and helped the pilot accomplish his task. Mark clutched the dog tags close as his eyes slipped slowly shut.
Kelsey tugged on Dylan's shirt. “Can you come here?” Kelsey led her friend into the far corner. “Mark's condition is really bothering me,” she admitted quietly.
“I-I don't know w-what to do,” Dylan stammered, for once at a loss. “I-I don't think I've ever seen him like this.”
“It's almost like he's in a trance,” Kelsey observed quietly.
Dylan sighed and settled himself against the wall, looking tired and a bit frightened. “I know,” he mumbled.
“You're really worried about him aren't you?” Kelsey asked needlessly.
“I can't let anything happen to him. I promised him Kelsey.”
“Dylan you know we'll do everything in our power to take care of him,” his friend quickly assured.
“But how can we help him if he doesn't talk to us?!”
“He's got Bella...” Kelsey's voice trailed off.
“What do you mean?” Dylan asked, exasperated. At the sound of her name, Bella raised her head and looked at Kelsey.
“She is a therapy dog,” Kelsey reminded. “Sometimes people talk to them when they won't talk to other people.”
“Well I hope so. I-I can't do this. I'm scared. I'm really scared for him. I've h-heard of people doing awful things w-when they're scared and have PTSD. And he's not eating or talking....” Dylan's eyes held raw fear.
Kelsey sighed. “He's been through a lot. If anyone can pull him out of it it'll be you or Dad.”
“I-I don't know...” Dylan mumbled.
“Really Dylan. You are like a father to him.”
Dylan suddenly stood up. “Not a very good one obviously.” He began pacing the room anxiously.
Kelsey watched him worriedly. “Dylan are you ok?” she wondered aloud.
“I-I don't know. Yeah. Y-yeah I'm fine.” He tried to hide his shaking hands in his pants pockets.
“You are not fine!” Kelsey countered. “What's wrong?” She asked, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
Dylan sighed. “I-I think I just need some air.”
“Take a walk then Dylan. I think you just need some time. We'll be ok here. Mark is in good hands.”
“I think I'll do that,” Dylan agreed as he ducked out of the cave and trudged towards the creek.
Mark moaned a few minutes later, tossing and turning restlessly. The covers fell off the cot, damp with his sweat. Frank woke up from the doze he had fallen into. “M-Mark? You ok?” he asked groggily.
With surprising strength, Mark ripped the oxygen mask off. “H-hot!” he gasped frantically. “E-everything's hot. Burning. C-can't breathe! It's h-hot!”
Frank sighed. “Easy Mark I'll fix it.” He wet the cloth and placed it on Mark's feverish forehead.
“I-it's h-hot! S-stop it! S-so hot!” Mark panted, flinching away from the object.
Kelsey hurried over and added more medicine to Mark's IV before laying the back of her hand on his cheek. “Burning up,” she mumbled. “Mark do you want some water?” she offered, glancing towards the cave entrance and wondering if they should dunk him in the creek again. She quietly voiced her thought to Frank who shrugged.
To both Frank and his daughter's surprise, Mark's fever glazed eyes opened and he gave a small nod.
“Kelsey if you'll take care of it I'll talk to Dylan,” Frank suggested, wheeling his chair outside.
Kelsey quickly fetched a cup and some cool water. She helped Mark sit up a bit and winced as she felt the immense heat rising from his body. “Easy now. Drink it slow,” she encouraged as she helped steady the cup and bring it to Mark's mouth. The pilot shakily drank a few sips before pushing the cup away.
“All finished? Think you could try to eat a little something?” Kelsey asked gently.
Mark shook his head and turned away.
“Please Mark. How are you ever going to get well enough to fix anything if you're too weak to get out of bed?”
“N-no,” Mark mumbled weakly as he tried to get his eyes to focus.
“Mark you're just shooting yourself in the foot. You're acting like you don't care anymore,” Kelsey scolded gently.
“I don't care! I don't care anymore! I don't care!” Mark suddenly yelled, bolting upright in bed. Leave me alone you all just leave me alone!” Mark sank back against his pillows with a groan and buried his face in his hands.
Kelsey sighed. “Mark I'm sorry. I really am. I just want to help,”
“I-I don't c-care anymore...” Mark answered, his body shaking with sobs.
“You need to care buddy. You've got people worried about you.”
Mark pulled his hands away from his face and looked up at Kelsey. “Look at me!” he shouted. “You don't think I'm trying here?! I can't be the hero. I'm a nobody!”
Kelsey looked at the frail body that had been under her care for so long. Mark was so skinny she could clearly see the outline of his ribs. His torso was riddled with too many scars to count. She swallowed hard. “Mark that's not true. Even heros need help sometimes. You are not a nobody. You have friends who care so deeply about you that they'll worry themselves to death. They love you Mark. They need you. And you need to fight and do everything in your power to get better. Eating something can make all the difference. I know you hate lying here feeling so bad. You need the strength to fight.”
“N-no. I'm not e-eating,” Mark mumbled, wrapping his skinny arms around Bella's neck and buried his face in her golden fur.
Shaking her head with worry and heaving a heavy sigh, Kelsey gave up and sat down on the little chair by his bed.
Frank had been looking for Dylan and had found him just out of sight around the corner. “Hey,” he called. “I think we may need to put Mark back in the creek.”
“Why?” Dylan asked flatly, his back turned to his friend. He didn't even bother making eye contact or even to look Frank's way.
“He's really burning up with fever Dylan,” Frank admitted.
Dylan finally turned to face Frank. “I'm really reluctant to do that. His breathing got really bad after we did it last time. He's only just come off the ventilator.”
“Kelsey gave him some more medicine for the fever so hopefully that'll help.” He took in Dylan's almost hopeless appearance. “Hey, you ok?”
“Just worried. I'm worried sick about him. And tired. So very tired,” Dylan answered exhaustedly.
“Why don't you try to get some rest then. You need sleep. You'll feel so much better,” Frank encouraged.
“I don't think I can.”
“Dylan, you're going to crash and then you'll be no good to yourself, Mark, or anyone. I can get you something to help you sleep if you like,” Frank offered.
“Y-yeah. Probably. I don't know,” Dylan replied listlessly.
“Well I insist that you do. Ok?”
Dylan ran his hands though his hair and nodded. “Alright.”
“We...we should probably get back then. It's getting late. I'll get you your sleeping pill and you can take a nap.” Frank started back for the cave, struggling over the uneven terrain. “Boy I can't wait until I can walk again,” he sighed.
Standing up to follow, Dylan helped his friend back to the cave where Frank got him the medicine. Dylan swallowed it down and lay on his sleeping bag without a word. Within minutes he was out. The others eventually followed suit, too worried and exhausted to stay awake despite their best efforts.
A loud noise suddenly woke Kelsey up, sometime in the middle of the night. She instinctively glanced at Mark's cot, thankful that the candle was still burning. Her thankfulness suddenly turned to horror as she realized he was not laying there. Looking frantically around she spotted him in the corner at the table, in a tangled mess of sheets and IV lines. His oxygen mask was draped around his neck like a necklace. The pilot was bent over, eating his soup. Kelsey's mouth dropped open in astonishment and she walked over.
“Hey Mark,” she greeted him quietly. “Everything alright?”
“I'm fine,” Mark answered simply, taking another bite of the cold meal.
“You're up awfully late but I'm glad you decided to eat.” Kelsey eyed the tangled IV lines and decided they didn't require immediate attention.
“Got hungry,” Mark replied gruffly, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.
“Would you like me to warm it up for you?” she offered.
“I'm fine,” Mark repeated. Suddenly he groaned, doubling over and dropping the spoon in the process.
Kelsey was by his side in an instant. “Mark? What is it? What's wrong?” she asked urgently.
“S-stomach h-hurts,” Mark moaned as the pain doubled.
“Mark you need to lie down,” Kelsey replied.
“N-no. W-wanna get better. Agh!” he cried out as another cramp hit.
“But Mark you can't overdo it. Here let me help.” She quickly got him untangled and Mark didn't resist as she helped him back to the cot. He cradled his stomach and groaned again. “I'll get you another painkiller,” Kelsey told the miserable pilot.
“No. C-can't think w-with it,” Mark managed to say.
“Are you sure?” Kelsey asked doubtfully. “A-alright. Do you need anything else?”
“M-my laptop...” Mark gasped.
“Ok I'll get it for you.” Kelsey groped around trying to find the computer. The dim light of the candle was hardly enough to see by and she ended up triping over Dylan's foot and nearly falling.
“Ow! What are you doing?!” Dylan mumbled groggily, still under the effects of the drugs.
“S-sorry I'm SO sorry!” Kelsey apologized profusely. “M-Mark wanted his computer,” she stammered.
“What's 'e want that for?” Dylan slurred. “'e should be sleeping.”
“I don't know. He got up and ate his soup too.”
“He did? That's good I guess. Hope he didn't try to overdo it.” Dylan's voice was still thick with sleep.
“I hope not either. He seemed like he was in a lot of pain but he refused a painkiller. Said it clouded up his mind. I just need to find the computer...”
Dylan sighed. “Frank or I should probably try to talk some sense into him. Knowing Mark he is trying to do too much all at once.”
Both of them looked up, startled, as something crashed loudly behind them. Mark had attempted to get up, and had pulled down the IV stand and his oxygen tank. Bella barked loudly in alarm.
“Mark! What are you doing?!” Kelsey cried, waking Frank up.
“N-needed my l-laptop. You were t-taking too long.”
Dylan sighed and stood up. “H-hold on I-I'll...” he stifled a yawn and swayed unsteadily. “This stuff is crazy! What did Frank give me?”
“Same stuff you gave him,” Kelsey replied as she pulled the laptop off the shelf, made Mark get back into bed and get settled in before she handed it to him.
Walking over, Dylan eyed his friend. “Alright Mark now that you have your laptop you need to take it easy. I'm going to listen to your lungs and stomach really quick.” He held up the stethoscope.
Mark reluctantly agreed and sighed while Dylan put the buds in his ears and checked various places on his chest, ribs and stomach.
“How is he?” Kelsey asked anxiously.
“Still some infection in his stomach and his breathing is not as strong as I would have liked but all things considered he's not terribly sick anymore. If only he would quit doing stupid stuff and keep aggravating the fever.”
Kelsey grinned a bit. “You hear that Mark? You've got to take it easy for a bit longer.”
“No. I have to get up now. I've wasted enough time already,” Mark replied with resolve.
“No Mark, you can't. Please cooperate. I don't want to have to give you another sedative,” Kelsey pleaded.
“The more I lay here the more people are in danger! I'm fine!” Mark insisted.
Kelsey's voice was beginning to sound exasperated. “Mark! You are no help to anyone in a state like this! Just wait a little longer until you get a bit better. At least do it for Frank. He'll need you around when he starts his therapy.”
“I am doing this for Frank. I'm doing this for all of you.”
“Mark that's not what I meant and you know it,” Kelsey sighed.
“Kelsey you can't even begin to understand how important this is. It's more important than anything.”
“Then please explain to me why it's such a big deal!”
“The chip that was in my arm contains vital and strategic defense plans for the British government. If it were to fall into the wrong hands my whole country could fall. Men, women and children will die if I don't eliminate the threat to it and do it now.”
“But it's safe here!” Kelsey countered.
“But England is my home. People I love are there. And if my country topples, there are things on that chip that could be used against your country...against the entire world. The Black Ring is a dangerous threat that must be eliminated.”
Kelsey turned to Dylan with a defeated look who looked over at Frank, who had now woken up and had been regarding their conversation quietly. Dylan was unsure how to deal with Military Mark.
Frank sighed. “Sorry Dylan, can't help you. Mark's put things in a whole new light.”
“But this is crazy! Kelsey tell him this is crazy. Mark you're still very sick! Your fever hasn't broken and you still have a pretty bad infection. You shouldn't have to save the world. You're just one guy! This is crazy. I forbid you!” Tears were running down Dylan's cheeks.
“H-he's got a point Dylan,” Kelsey sighed.
“Mark listen. If you go we're coming with you,” Frank told him, trying to compromise a bit.
Mark shook his head. “I can't risk your lives. You mean far too much to me,”
“Well maybe we feel the same way about you,” Frank replied. “If we can't go you can't go. There's a saying, two hands are better than one. It's true.”
Mark sighed. “Fine. But when it comes time, there are certain things I have to do alone. It's my duty.”
Chapter 3:
Quick footsteps echoed down the hall, easily heard by the two bedraggled sisters in the dark cell of a basement in an unknown location. Lillian glided into view, grinning evilly. “Hope you two enjoyed your talk.” Her smile vanished. “You two squabbling chickens are keeping me up ALL night with your yapping. So HUSH.”
“Oh yeah?” Catherine challenged, getting to her feet and walking over to face Lillian. “And who's gonna make me. You?”
“You impertinent little brat!” Lillian snapped. “Just shut your trap won't you?”
“Come on I'll knock you silly. You aren't so tough without you little boss eh? You're just his pathetic henchman.” Catherine grinned defiantly and stuck her hands through the bars on the cell, trying to get a grip on Lillian.
“Catherine don't!” Sandra cried.
Lillian grabbed both of Catherine's wrists with lightening quick reflexes and yanked the woman towards her with a surprising amount of strength, slamming her head into the metal bars. Catherine slumped to the ground, unconscious. Lillian was a bit surprised that she had knocked her out so easily but she smirked anyway. “Tell your little friend the next time she wants to challenge me we can just do that again.”
“NO!” Sandra cried, pulling Catherine to the other side of the little cell, out of Lillian's reach. “Catherine? Catherine please wake up!” she begged, looking in horror as blood dribbled from Catherine's head and spread into a little puddle on the concrete floor.
“Well well well,” Juhotta sneered as he strode up. “Look like Miss Sass finally got what she deserved.”
“Yeah she woke me up,” Lillian grumbled.
Sandra was crouching in the corner. She tore off her sleeve and tried to slow the bleeding. “N-no please,” she whispered, terrified.
Juhotta unlocked the cell door and strode in, yanking Sandra to her feet and away from Catherine. “You think you can save her? You think your childish pleas will save you two from the mess Mark has made?” he growled, shaking her roughly.
Sandra wrenched her arm out of Juhotta's grip. “J-just leave us alone!” She begged. “W-we didn't d-do anything to you!”
Juhotta's hand shot out like a whip as he backhanded her so hard that Sandra saw stars. Blood flowed from her newly busted lip and trickled down her chin. “Now listen to me. You are bait for Holbrook. You two will do as I say or bad things will happen to you. Is that understood?”
“T-then I guess I can do w-whatever I want since you n-need me alive,” Sandra retorted shakily as she brought her foot down on Juhotta's foot. Hard.”
“Why you little...” Juhotta's voice trailed off as he grabbed Sandra and wrenched her arm back, dislocating it. He shoved her down next to Catherine. “That'll teach you!” he growled. “And one more thing. We do not need you alive. In fact, if you were dead, Mark would probably drag his sorry self over here even quicker.”
Sandra screamed in agony as her shoulder dislocated. The sound echoed frightfully around the cell and the hall. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to quiet her pained whimpering.
“Now pipe down or I'll do it again!” Juhotta warned as he stepped out and locked the door behind him. Both he and Lillian disappeared down the hall.
Huddling in the corner, Sandra tried to get herself under control. “C-Catherine?” she whimpered.
Catherine groaned as she began to arouse.
“T-that's it s-sis,” Sandra encouraged, gritting her teeth against the unrelenting pain in her arm. “C-come on. W-wake up.”
Slowly, Catherine's eyes flickered open. “S-Sandra?” she murmured.
“Yes I-I'm right here in the corner. See?” Sandra tried to grin.
Catherine groaned again. “I swear I'll...” she abruptly stopped talking as her head pounded when she tried to sit up. Clutching it, she gasped raggedly.
“H-hey take it easy,” Sandra shivered in the cold. “You hit your head. Are you ok?”
“Other than t-the brain-splitting headache I'm just p-peachy,” Catherine managed to answer.
“I'm sorry,” Sandra mumbled. “Guess we're both in great shape huh?” she asked sarcastically.
Catherine noticed the swelling in Sandra's arm. “Wh-what happened to you?!”
“I stomped on Juhotta's foot...” Sandra began only to be interrupted by her sister.
“Oh my goodness! Sandra! Your arm's dislocated,” she announced as she pulled herself over to her friend and tried to see the damage better.
Sandra flinched. “D-don't touch p-please,” she begged. “H-hurts somethin' fierce.” She grit her teeth again against the pain.
“Sandra this has to be set. If we're going to escape you'll need the use of both arms.”
“B-but...” Sandra paused, trembling in fright. “I-I do this on patients all the time b-but always with a painkiller. W-we don't have any.”
“I don't know what to tell you Sandra,” Catherine replied gently. “I know it's going to hurt but we don't have another choice.”
Sandra nodded, tears running down her pale cheeks. “G-guess I'll have t-to,” she finally relented.
Gently gripping her sister's arm, Catherine took a deep breath. “You ready?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Sandra tried to fight the urge to tense up, knowing it would only make the pain worse. “N-no...” she stammered, her voice shaking.
“I know but we've got to. Three...two...” before Catherine reached one she quickly pushed Sandra's shoulder back in place. The joint clicked as it popped back in place.
Sandra screamed as she bent double in pain and curled up on the hard floor, gasping for breath and crying out as she held her arm.
Catherine scooted over and held her close. “Shh it's alright, it's ok, you're ok,” she whispered soothingly.
It was a few minutes before Sandra could talk. “S-sorry, I'm s-so s-sorry!” she whimpered.
“Just take some deep breaths. It's ok,” Catherine assured her again as she thumbed away her sister's tears.
“T-trying!” Sandra gasped in ragged sobs. “S-sorry...d-don't mean t-to be a p-pain.”
“Hey don't apologize. I know it hurts. I had to do this with Mark when we were kids.”
“W-well thanks....g-guess it's going to be sore for a few days,” Sandra sighed.
“Probably. But we can worry about that later. Let's get some sleep,” Catherine suggested.
Sandra nodded wearily. “Good idea.”
Both girls scooted themselves into the corner. Sandra lay her head in Catherine's lap and Catherine curled up as best as she could, trying to share body heat and that's how they both fell asleep.
Mark woke up rather early the next morning and shakily got out of bed. He managed to dress himself though he had to take two breaks because of the debilitating pain in his stomach but he forced himself on. When that task was complete he sat down at the little table with his laptop.
Frank woke up with a groan. He sleepily rubbed his eyes and saw Mark in the corner in the light of the computer. “Mornin',” he mumbled.
“We need to move fast,” Mark answered, completely focused on his task. He had all the appearance of a soldier but his voice was clipped by pain.
“Hey, hey! Don't be in such a hurry!” Frank grinned, happy to see Mark so much improved compared to yesterday. “Breakfast and painkillers for you first. Maybe I should tussle that hair of yours too,” he joked.
“Breakfast possibly, painkillers no,” Mark replied.
“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” Frank sighed, slipping two painkillers into his pocket without Mark knowing.
Mark stood to his feet, pressing his hand against his stomach in pain but he said nothing as he walked over to the cooler and looked at the contents inside. He found a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink.
Frank eyed him with concern but remained quiet. “Did you find anything for breakfast in the cooler?”
“There was some milk and some cereal on the shelf,” Mark replied. “Hey...where did Kelsey go?”
Frank shrugged. “Probably for a walk. She loves to get up early.”
Pounding footsteps suddenly sounded outside the cave. Kelsey darted in, her hair frizzy from the humidity and her eyes wide with fright. “Someone's coming this way!” she gasped.
Mark was instantly on alert. “Did you see what they looked like?” he asked as Dylan sat up and looked around anxiously.
“N-no I heard footsteps and raced back here as fast as I could. Dylan help me cover the entrance to the cave would you?”
Mark grabbed his gun and held it ready under the table as Dylan followed Kelsey outside and covered up the entrance as best as they could.
“Thanks Dylan,” Kelsey mumbled as she sat on Mark's vacated cot and twiddled her thumbs nervously.
Frank rolled his chair over to the table, knowing Mark had his weapon. He regarded him critically.
“I'm perfectly able to defend myself if that's what you're asking,” Mark told him quietly.
“Good. Just making sure,” Frank whispered. The cave fell silent as they all listened for footsteps.
They weren't long in coming. Someone or something paused right outside the entrance. Mark tensed, looking like he was about to spring. Frank looked at him and quickly put a finger to his lips in a gesture to be quiet. Mark paid him no mind and crept quietly to the entrance.
Just outside, there was more rustling noises. Someone sighed. “Ugh...stupid doctors...ran off and left me. I'll get them back.” The voice was clearly a woman's.
Mark suddenly pushed back the bushes and pointed his weapon at the woman. “Well well well Miss Carmen. Looks like you've found our hiding spot.”
“AHHH!” Carmen screamed, startled out of her wits. “Put that gun down!”
Kelsey gasped. “Mark! She had no idea we were here!”
Mark jerked the barrel of the weapon towards the cave entrance. “Get in. Now.” he ordered sternly.
Carmen hurried to obey, holding her hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. “Goodness Mark! What's gotten into you?!”
“You and your coworkers have threatened everything I hold hear. Lillian betrayed us. I'm certain you have too. Sit in that chair now. And no funny business.”
Sitting obediently in the chair, Carmen tried to hide her trembling hands. “I-I didn't do anything!” she stammered.
Mark rolled his eyes. “I don't believe you. Tell me what you know about Lillian. ALL of it.”
“I-I don't know. We met in college a-and became friends. Th-that's all I know! Honest!”
“She never mentioned The Black Ring or a computer chip?” Mark pestered.
Carmen seemed genuinely shocked and bewildered. “The what? Mark I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Mark leaned against the cave wall. His gun was wavering. “I still d-don't trust you. And for that you'll have to stay here.”
Meanwhile, Lillian had a rude awakening planned for his prisoners. Striding over to the cell he loudly rattled the bars on the door. “Rise and shine sleeping beauties!” she mocked. “It's time for your little video chat.”
Catherine was the first to arouse and she nudged Sandra before glaring at Lillian. “Well look who it is,” she muttered as Juhotta strolled in behind Lillian.
“Oh good they're both awake. Lillian, tie them up,” he ordered.
Lillian stepped forward and roughly yanked Catherine to her feet, wrenched her arms behind her back and began to tie her hands together. Catherine did not give up without a fight. Knowing that Lillian would be going for Sandra next, she struggled to buy some time, though for what she did not know. “No! No stop!” she cried, managing a kick on Lillian's knee.
The woman gasped in pain as Juhotta jerked Catherine towards him and slammed her against the concrete wall before delivering a rock solid punch to her jaw. He then grabbed her by the throat and leaned in close, his face seething with anger. “You think this will save your little friend and your brother? Well it won't,” he hissed.
Lillian turned to Sandra and tied her up, badly wrenching the doctor's already wounded shoulder. Sandra bit her lip to keep from crying out but tears of pain began to trickle down her cheeks. Pushing her captive towards the cell door, she ran into Juhotta.
He turned around with an evil grin. “Shoulder doing ok this morning dearie?” He asked shoving her away from him in the wounded extremity. Sandra nearly passed out from the pain. Juhotta rolled his eyes. “Let's take them to the Conference Room Lillian,” he directed, “and make sure they are secure.”
Pushing their prisoners down the hall in front of them, Lillian made sure Catherine could feel the muzzle of the gun barrel pressed against her back. Both girls tried to study the hallways, looking for any possible routes for escape, as well as try to map out where they were in their minds. Lillian's sharp eyes noticed what they were trying to do. “None of that now!” she snapped, jabbing Catherine with her pistol. It didn't take them long to arrive at the Conference Room.
Both Juhotta and Lillian forced Sandra and Catherine to sit on two wooden chairs which were facing a table with a camera and computer. They were swiftly and roughly tied to the furniture. Both hands and feet were bound. Lillian looked over the two frightened girls thoughtfully. “Juhotta, is this strictly business or could we add a bit of entertainment to this video-chat?” she asked hopefully.
“I think some fun will probably be in order,” Juhotta sneered, turning to Catherine and Sandra. “Listen up you two, and listen closely. You will not speak unless spoken to and you will not make any attempts to be difficult. Any trespassing of these rules will result in serious consequences. Got it?”
Sandra meekly nodded while Catherine glared menacingly at their captors. Lillian stepped behind the camera. “Ok Juhotta, ready when you are,” she announced, once the camera was hooked up to the computer. “Hope he has Skype.”
“I'm sure,” Juhotta sighed as his accomplice tried to call Mark.
Chapter 4
Kelsey jumped as a sound resembling a ringtone was emitted from Mark's computer. “Someone's calling you Mark,” she announced.
Mark mumbled something under his breath and answered the ring, expecting to see the face of his boss at Cobolt. Kelsey screamed at the sight that met her eyes and slammed the lid shut. Mark's eyes hadn't had a change to register the sight and he opened the computer lid again. “What? What is it?” he was asking. His answer was not long in coming. Mark gasped, going rigid. His knuckles gripped the table so hard his knuckles were white. The sudden jolt his body made sent shockwaves of pain coursing through his body.
“Hello Captain,” Juhotta was saying, a sneer etched on his face. “Nice catch I found, eh?” he ran a finger down the side of Sandra's cheek and Mark could literally see the blood drain from her already pale face.
“NO! Sandra! Catherine!” Mark yelled. No!” he bent double as pain gripped him. “AGH!” he cried out desperately.
Tears were rolling down Kelsey's cheeks as Frank looked on grimly. “Oh dear God no,” she begged. Her dad was shaking in anger.
“Let me make this short and sweet,” Juhotta continued, ignoring Mark's outburst. “I now have your friend and sister, Holbrook. I hold their lives in my hands. And if you ever want to see them alive again, you will pay close attention to what I am about to say. You have twelve hours to be in St. Petersburg with the computer chip. Don't bother calling for back up or the deal's off. I'll be waiting, Holbrook,” Juhotta laughed evilly.
Sandra suddenly glanced at Catherine, then at the camera. Her blue eyes were wide with terror. “No! It's a trap Mark, don't come! Find some way else! You-” her desperate warning was suddenly cut off as Juhotta's fist slammed into her face and the camera clicked off.
“NO! NO!” Mark cried. “I've failed them!” He crumpled to the ground in agony, struggling to catch his breath and finding that he couldn't. He immediately began to panic and that only made the situation worse.
“Dylan!” Kelsey called as she pushed aside her own fear for the moment. “Hand me that oxygen mask and get him a painkiller now!” she demanded. “Oh Mark hang in there buddy hang on,” she begged.
Dylan raced to fetch the items and Kelsey placed the mask over Mark's face. As soon as his pain lessened a bit, they could make out the words Mark was groaning over and over. “N-no...no. No...th-this wasn't supposed t-to happen....” he mumbled repeatedly. “I-I've failed them!”
“Mark listen. Take it easy,” Kelsey urged as she inserted an IV and hastily gave Mark a sedative.
“N-No! Please!” Mark begged weakly, trying feebly to get up.
“No no no. Stay down Mark ok?” Dylan directed as he gently probed Mark's stomach. “He's spiked the infection with all this moving around and stress,” he sighed.
Kelsey eyed the two boxes, trying to ignore the growing fear for Sandra she was feeling. “Dylan we really don't have that much medical stuff here,” she sighed.
“See what we have,” Dylan suggested. “We have got to do something.”
Hastening over to the boxes, Kelsey rummaged around them. “Um...hey! I found the drain. Is he that bad off?”
“Please no!” Mark gasped desperately at Kelsey's announcement. He tried again to get up.
“Mark you have got to calm down! We're just trying to help. Dylan, what do you think?” Kelsey asked again.
Dylan bit his lip, clearly torn. “I-I don't know,” he finally admitted. “You have more experience than I do. What do you think?”
Kelsey bent down next to Mark and tried to figure out how bad off he was as the pilot writhed underneath her hands in discomfort. “Mark listen to me,” she finally spoke. “As long as you promise to settle down and behave I'll not use the drain and try a hefty dose of antibiotics instead. That may clear things up on it's own.”
“Pl-please! H-hafta go!” Mark moaned. “C-Catherine...S-Sandra...” his pained voice trailed off in a groan.
“You heard her Mark. Settle down. Back to bed,” Dylan replied quietly as he gently scooped up the pilot and carried him back to the cot.
“N-no I can't!” Mark protested weakly as his friend lay him down. “I've g-got twelve hours to be in St. Petersburg. I have to get up!”
Frank rolled his wheelchair over to Mark. “Easy Mark easy,” he soothed as Kelsey gave him another dose of sedative and administered the antibiotics through his IV. Mark seemed to settle a bit at his words.
Kelsey turned to Dylan and gestured for him to follow her outside. “Yes? What is it?” he asked tiredly.
“What are we going to do?!” Kelsey asked, exasperated. “Mark is too sick to fly anywhere! I don't think anyone would even let him on a plane anyhow! Plus...S-Sandra said it was a trap.”
Dylan raked his hand through his shaggy brown hair nervously. “I-I don't know. I agree with everything you're saying but we can't just leave them there. And I feel like Mark will run off if we don't let him go, no matter how sick he is.”
“Of course he'll sneak off! He's too stubborn for his own good!” Kelsey sounded rather irritated.
“He is quite determined isn't he,” Dylan sighed. “I-I'm way out of my league here. H-he seems certain he has to do this.”
“That's what bothers me!” Kelsey huffed. “He obviously knows something we don't but he's not thinking clearly and it's going to get him killed!”
“I should never have let him leave the hospital. I should have just kept him comatose.” Dylan was pacing restlessly now.
Kelsey took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “There are some things we cannot control. We don't know the future Dylan,” she finally replied, more for herself than for her friend. “But ever since Mark arrived, my life has been a roller coaster ride.”
“Try knowing him all your life. Actually, I take that back. I've never known this side of Mark ever. The Mark I knew would never have risked his life or broken the rules, or done any of this.” Dylan went silent a moment before speaking again. “I guess we should get back to him.”
While Kelsey and Dylan had been outside talking, Mark was doing some serious thinking of his own. His head turned to face Frank. “Frank, quick while they're occupied, help me up. W-we can get out of here. Just you and me.”
Frank swallowed hard. “M-Mark I can't do that. You have to give the medicine time to work. And,” he lowered his voice. “Carmen's in here.”
“Frank...please...she's my sister...” Mark's voice was faint as the drugs began to pull him under.
“Oh Mark. I know. But I simply cannot let you go at this moment.” Frank's voice caught in his throat as he thought of Sandra.
Mark's eyes closed despite his efforts. His breathing was ragged and harsh and Frank replaced the mask over his face. Mark didn't even stir or rouse when Kelsey and Dylan returned.
Juhotta was seething with rage as he glared at Sandra, breathing hard with anger. He brought his fist around for another punch and it landed with a solid smack. Sandra's teeth clicked together at the impact and she slumped over in her chair, nearly unconscious.
“No! Stop it! Leave her alone!” Catherine cried.
Juhotta turned his head to look at her and backhanded her so hard that the chair was toppled over. Catherine hit her head on the concrete floor and was instantly knocked out. “Great punch Juhotta!” Lillian grinned while Sandra moaned, helpless to do anything to defend herself or Catherine.
Rolling his eyes, Juhotta grunted, getting over his anger just a bit. “He'll still come. She did nothing to hinder him coming for them. Take them back to their cell Lillian. I have a boss to talk to.” He walked out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.
Lillian sighed and untied the prisoners from their chairs before dragging them back to their cell, leaving their hands tied. Sandra groaned as she left, trying to struggle out of the unyielding ropes. Beside her, Catherine lay, still unconscious, her head bleeding profusely from the new wound. Easing herself over to her sister, Sandra attempted to use her hands to stem the flow of blood, though it was hard because her hands were tied behind her back and she couldn't see what she was doing.
At the pressure, Catherine groaned and began to wake up. “Shh, shhh take it easy,” Sandra tried to soothe her but her face was so swollen from the punches that it sounded like her mouth was full of cotton and it was hard to understand. Sandra grimaced at the resulting pain which only increased it. Catherine tried to open her eyes but the harsh yellow light above seemed to drill into her skull and she quickly shut them again. She whimpered softly as she attempted to roll onto her side.
“C-Catherine, stop....moving,” Sandra mumbled, feeling warm blood ooze between her fingers and trickle down her hand. “H-hafta stop the b-bleeding.” Talking was incredibly painful.
Catherine groaned. “S-so d-dizzy!” she gasped.
“P-probably have a concussion. Try to s-stay awake. S-Sorry C-Catherine. Had to warn th-them.”
“Y-yeah. Kinda remember that,” Catherine mumbled.
“Well I'm glad you don't have amnesia. I can't feel my hands anymore. They've gone numb,” Sandra replied after a few minutes. The pain in her jaw had been so intense that she was forced to only talk in a few short sentences at a time.
“H-here. I might be able to untie them without looking,” Catherine offered as she slowly sat up, trying to fight off the waves of nauseating dizziness.
“D-don't be moving around! I'll be f-fine.”
“s'ok,” Catherine mumbled. “We'll be b-better off untied anyway.” Her shaking hands fumbled with Sandra's knots.
Sandra did her best to position her hands in an easier position for Catherine to get to. “Better?” she asked hopefully. Catherine didn't answer as she struggled to concentrate on loosening the knotted rope. “Come on Catherine. You can do it!” Sandra tried to encourage her sister.
Finally, Catherine managed to untie them enough for Sandra to get free. “Got it!” she announced weakly.
Pulling her hands apart, Sandra began to rub and flex them vigorously. “Thanks. I'll untie you as soon as I get some feeling back in my fingers,” she promised. Catherine closed her eyes and leaned back against the hard wall, unknowingly leaving a bloodstain. Sandra tried to stifle a groan as her fingers began to tingle as they regained their usual blood supply. “Ok I'm ready,” she told her sister.
Catherine's eyes flickered open and she look at Sandra's hands which were covered in drying blood. “That's my blood isn't it?” she murmured weakly.
Sandra nodded. “Yeah. I don't want you moving any more. It's still bleeding and we need to stop it. Want me to or you?” the pain in her mouth was nearly unbearable, but Sandra's only thoughts were for her sister.
“You can do the honors,” Catherine managed with the weakest of grins.
Nodding again, Sandra fumbled with her sleeve until she had ripped it off. Folding it, she pressed it firmly against the ugly gash on Catherine's head. “Ahh!” Catherine gasped as she flinched away from the new source of pain.
Sandra's eyes filled with sympathy. “Sorry...I'm sorry. G-gotta stop the bleeding th-though." Catherine grit her teeth and tried to remain still. After a few long minutes that felt like a lifetime to Catherine, the bleeding finally stopped. Sandra carefully removed the cloth. “It's finally clotted but I don't want you moving around, alright?”
“Don't have to tell me twice,” Catherine mumbled. “If I move I think I might throw up. How's your face? He punched you pretty hard. You've got a black eye.”
“It feels pretty swollen and hurts something fierce to talk,” Sandra admitted, “but I guess it was worth it.”
“That was really brave of you Sandra but I don't think Mark will listen,” Catherine sighed.
“I just hope he stays safe,” Sandra replied.
“How is he?” Dylan asked quietly as he walked back into the cave with Kelsey.
“Well he's nearly asleep but he's still all tensed up,” Frank sighed.
“I was afraid of that,” Dylan answered, watching as Mark groaned and lashed out in his half conscious state.
“Mark? It's ok pal. Just take it easy,” Frank encouraged.
“That's right. You need to relax,” Dylan added.
Mark would have none of it and continued to struggle. His breathing was visibly irregular. Kelsey lay her hand on his shoulder. “Mark do you need another painkiller?” she asked. Mark went still but remained tense.
“Boy what a mess we're in,” Dylan muttered under his breath.
“I'll say,” Kelsey muttered back. She watched Mark in silence for a bit before taking a shaky breath. “I-I need a minute.”
Dylan looked after her worriedly as his friend made a quick exit out of the cave. “Think she's ok?” he asked aloud.
Frank sighed. “There's one thing about Kelsey you should know. She's extremely loyal and protective of her friends. Now that her best friend Sandra has been captured she's really struggling to keep herself together. She's under a lot of stress. I'm surprised she hasn't yelled at one of us yet. When her friends are in danger she gets really upset. I'm sorry if she's been a bit...short.”
Dylan shrugged. “We all have our moments,” he replied as he pat Mark's shoulder. “What are we going to do about him?” he asked quietly, seeing that Mark was finally asleep.
“For now I guess we just wait and see if the antibiotics are doing anything. But could I please try to walk now? I'm SO tired of sitting in this chair!”
“I think that would be ok.” Dylan turned to Carmen. “You did shut down the hospital for now didn't you?”
“Of course! No patients were there anyway. I'm not irresponsible in that sense,” she added.
Dylan sighed. “Watch Mark. And if you try anything, Bella here will bite you. He can't go anywhere anyway.”
Frank put the brakes on his wheelchair and clumsily began to push himself out of the chair. Dylan stepped forward to help. “Easy Frank. I think we'll take a little walk outside, see if we can find Kelsey.”
With Dylan's assistance, Frank managed to remain upright, keeping most of the weight off of his knee though as he was hesitant on letting it bear his full weight. “Wow I'm quite unsteady,” he noted, a bit embarrassed.
“It's completely normal Frank. You're injured and have been off of it for quite awhile. Let's just take it slow and easy I'm right here if you need me. Where do you think Kelsey went?”
Frank ungracefully took a few wobbly steps, relieved when his knee didn't pain him as much as he thought it was going to. “There's no telling where she went but the creek's a good bet.”
“Probably,” Dylan agreed. “That's were I went when I needed some space.”
The two men made their way out of the cave and towards the creek. The going was slow and tedious for Frank as he struggled with his walking. His limp was quite pronounced and that didn't help matters either. “Take it slow Frank,” Dylan encouraged. “Don't want to overdo it. Let me know if it hurts.”
“Well...” Frank grunted. “My knee certainly does not feel the best but goodness it feels so nice to be walking again.”
Dylan nodded and scanned the creek area for Kelsey. It didn't take long to spot her. “There she is,” he announced.
Frank nodded. “Yeah that's her. I-I hate seeing her so upset like this.” his voice suddenly grew husky.
“Do you want a minute alone?” Dylan asked.
“I don't know,” Frank shrugged. “She looks pretty upset.”
Just then, Kelsey looked up and spotted them. “Hey,” she mumbled.
Dylan smiled. “Hey Kelsey. You alright?” He helped Frank sit on a rock and then sat on the other side of Kelsey.
“Why do you ask?” Kelsey questioned.
“Oh I don't know,” Dylan replied sarcastically but in a gentle tone of voice. “Maybe because you're sitting out here alone and look like you've been crying? Look Kelsey. You're my friend and I'm worried about you.” Kelsey heaved a heavy sigh and mumbled a thanks. “So what's wrong?” Dylan pressed.
“I-I'm just really worried,” Kelsey admitted.
“I know you are. Sandra?”
Kelsey stared at her shoes. “Yeah.” When she looked up again there were tears brimming in her eyes. “Did you see her face?! There was something terribly wrong and I couldn't do anything about it! And then she tried to warn us a-and...” Kelsey choked back a sob, trying desperately not to cry. “All I can do is sit here and worry,” she continued after a moment of silence.
“I know. I'm trying to come up with something,” Dylan replied.
Kelsey sighed. “I'm sorry I haven't been myself lately. I'm just really stressed out. But that's not a very good excuse because we all are and I'm no exception.”
“Hey. You have every right to be concerned and worried. We're all here for each other. Dylan and I are both here for you Kelsey,” Frank reminded.
“Thank you.” Kelsey took a deep, calming breath. “We should probably head back now.”
Chapter 5
Back in the cave, Mark shuddered as his breathing sped up. Carmen looked over and noticed his iPod sitting on the little stool they were using for a nightstand. She left her chair and turned on some music, hoping that would help him. Mark groaned as his eyes flickered open.
“Do you want some different music?” Carmen asked. “I don't know what you like.”
Mark shook his head. “H-help me up,” he rasped.
“Sorry, I can't do that Mark,” Carmen apologized.
“Sure you can. Just help me out of this bloody bed!” Mark insisted.
“No, I can't. I'm sorry but your friend would have my head,” Carmen replied firmly.
“Fine,” Mark huffed. “I'm perfectly capable without your assistance.” He sat up slowly, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the pain.
“Mark you need to lie down!”
“I'm fine!” Mark snapped. “What do you know anyway? You worked for my enemy. How do I know you haven't put poison in my IV or something?!”
Carmen put her hands on her hips. “If I had wanted to kill you I would have done it already. I don't think you understand. I had no clue what was going on. I'm sorry we caused so much trouble. I don't want to hurt or kill you.”
“I should like to see you try,” grunted Mark irritably as he swung his legs over the side of the bed as he prepared to get up.
Gently, Carmen tried to push him back down. “Hey, none of that now. Your friends don't want you up. I'm not the bad guy here but believe me, I can be just as stubborn as you,” she remarked decidedly. “Don't make me put the restraints on you.”
“You couldn't even if you wished!” Mark huffed as he pushed her hands away and stood up.
Carmen pulled out her phone. “If you leave this cave I'm calling the police,” she warned.
Before she could blink, Mark had knocked the phone out of Carmen's hands and kicked it under the bed. “Oh will you now?” he challenged.
“Look at yourself!” Carmen half shouted, now angry. “You are in no condition to go anywhere or do anything! No one would even let you on a plane!”
“Not if I fly myself. Listen. My sister and friend are out there in the hands of psychopaths because of me. I'm going to rescue them or die trying. This isn't about the chip anymore. It's become personal.”
“You can't just waltz over there and demand they be returned to you! I mean come on! Be reasonable Mark!”
Mark inched towards the cave's exit. “Just try and stop me,” he challenged.
Carmen jumped in front of him and planted herself in front of the doorway. “Oh yeah?” With more force than Carmen could imagine from someone as sick as Mark, he shoved her out of the way. “How dare you?!” Carmen yelped. “Just quit being so stubborn won't you?!”
“I have to do this!” Mark insisted.
“Mark!” Frank's exclamation of surprise sounded from behind both of them. Mark turned and found Kelsey, Dylan and Frank coming up to the cave entrance. “Mark what are you doing up?!”
“Yeah,” Dylan echoed. “Carmen I thought I told you to watch him. Mark Holbrook get back in bed!”
Mark shook his head. “No Dylan, I have to go. Nothing you do can stop me.”
Kelsey sighed. “Guess we're all along for the ride then,” she mumbled under her breath as Dylan discreetly pressed the syringe of sedative into her hand. “Mark,” she called, cautiously approaching her friend who was now leaning against the wall of the cave. “Can't you listen to us for once? We have no intention of letting our friends be harmed or killed. We just have to come up with a plan.”
“N-no. I have to go. I-I'm running out of t-time. They're running out of time.” His last words ended in a groan of pain.
Kelsey only hesitated an instant. With a lightening quick movement, she injected the sedative into Mark's arm. A shocked look appeared on Mark's face. “K-Kelsey no...” he stammered, gripping his head as he felt the tug of the powerful drugs. A few seconds more and he was swaying unsteadily.
Gently, Kelsey helped Mark into a sitting position against the wall. “Mark it's just for your own good. I'm so sorry,” she apologized.
“N-no please.....” Mark's voice trailed off as his eyes closed.
“Mark just relax,” Kelsey encouraged. “You'll be fine.” she looked up just as Frank stumbled and nearly fell. He would have if Dylan hadn't been standing right there and caught him.
“Whoa Frank, take it easy. Here, sit down in this chair. Kelsey? Could you and Carmen please get Mark back into bed?” Dylan asked.
Kelsey nodded as she and Carmen carefully brought Mark back to bed.
“Catherine? Catherine come on, you need to stay awake,” Sandra urged.
“Why?” Catherine mumbled groggily.
“Because I think you have a concussion,” her sister explained patiently.
Catherine yawned. “Oh I'm certain I probably do but I'm so...so tired.”
Sandra nudged Catherine gently. “You can't though. If you fall asleep it could induce a coma.”
“I-I'll try not to,” Catherine mumbled, trying to get her eyes to focus on something so she wouldn't get sick.
Sandra eyed her with concern. “You ok sis?”
“Y-yeah. Just feeling really nauseated.” She shifted uncomfortable as Sandra continued to watch her worriedly. “Don't just sit there with that look on your face! You're scaring me!”
“Well what do you want me to do? Get up and start doing jumping jacks?” Sandra asked, trying to ease the tension.
“If you so choose to,” Catherine answered with a weak smile.
“Well I would be more than happy to accept the challenge but I believe my arm would protest,” Sandra replied.
The small cell went quiet for a while. Finally Catherine sighed. “Do you think everyone is ok? I'm really worried about Mark. He didn't look so well. I hope they don't do something stupid trying to save us.”
“I don't know but that thought is going to be the end of me,” Sandra admitted. “Who knows what they'll do.”
“Hey at least you have a family that loves you.” Catherine sounded almost jealous.
“You do too!” Sandra retorted, shocked.
“What, you think my mom and brother even care I'm here? They both hate me. Well...I guess they technically aren't family since we discovered we're sisters but still...I grew up with them.”
“Well obviously Mark cares about you. Didn't you see his face?”
“Oh I meant Stewart,” Catherine explained. “Mark is in this mess because of his duty. Not me.”
Sandra sighed. “Well I care about you,” she assured her sister.
“Yeah I know. Thanks. We've got to find a way out of here.”
“But how?” Sandra asked. “We're being closely watched.”
“I don't know but I'll think of something...” Catherine's eyes were drifting shut.
“Hey! No falling asleep!” Sandra reminded, nudging her.
“Ugh! I'm so tired!” Catherine exclaimed.
“I know but you've got to stay awake. Why don't you tell me some things about your childhood? I mean most of my life I've never known you,” Sandra suggested.
“Ummm....well there's not really much to tell.”
“Well let's talk about something. You need to stay awake.”
Catherine thought a moment. “Well...I remember when I was little, Mark used to tell me about all the wonderful countries he read about in his books.”
“And what was his favorite?” Sandra asked curiously.
A slight smile crossed over Catherine's face. “He loved India. The elephants and spices fascinated him.”
Sandra laughed. “Elephants? Those remind me of circuses...which remind me of clowns. I'm deathly afraid of clowns.”
“I've never liked circuses. Dad tried to leave Mark at one once.”
“Why was he so mean?!” Sandra's eyes widened in shock.
“I think it was because Mark was a dreamer. He had a passion and a dream he was constantly following and Dad was just an electrician. He couldn't stand it that Mark had something to cling to.”
Sandra was silent a moment. “That's terrible,” she finally whispered.
“Yeah well, that's life,” Catherine shrugged.
“But still! Some things people should never have to go through.”
“And yet it never brought him down. I remember asking him once when he was in the hospital after he was pushed out the second story window. He said that he had far too much to do to let something like that get in the way.” Tears were starting to trickle down Catherine's pale cheeks.
Sandra gasped. “Poor Mark! No wonder he can be so stubborn!”
“Yeah. He was kinda the bright spot in my life growing up. I practically had to raise him and I by myself until Dad kicked him out.”
Sandra stared at the floor. “I'm so sorry. That must have been hard.”
“Eh well, I think that's why Mark and I are so strong. You too. We've come from hard situations in our lives.”
“I try not to let my hard side show. But sometimes I slip up. Dylan and I had a run-in earlier,” Sandra sighed.
“I heard. It's ok,” Catherine assured her. “We all have our moments. Can I sleep now?”
Sandra hesitated. “I don't know. We should probably wait a bit longer, just to be on the safe side.”
“If only they'd let us have a book or something!” Catherine huffed.
“Kelsey and I used to make up stories together,” Sandra answered, her eyes taking on a faraway look.
“Mark told me you guys always made him stories when he was having a hard time with his PTSD,” Catherine replied.
Sandra gulped. “He told you that? They were pretty dumb and silly. Guess they were pretty entertaining though.”
“Oh they were. At least from what he told me. But then again he was half drugged up when he told me.” Catherine laughed at the memory, then winced at the pain it brought.
The two girls went quiet again. After a little while, Sandra gave Catherine the ok to sleep and they both quickly drifted off to dreamland.
Dylan sighed as he checked on Mark for what seemed like the millionth time. “What are we going to do?” he asked rather helplessly.
“We've got to find some way to rescue them! Mark will go crazy if something happened to either of them. So will I,” Kelsey added under her breath.
“I'll help you come up with something but can I get a painkiller? My knee is killing me,” Frank piped in.
“Oh Sorry Frank, here's some aspirin,” Dylan told his friend as he handed him the drugs. “If we don't let Mark go he will just escape and hurt himself. He agreed to let us help but I can't even begin to think of what we could do to assist him or the situation in any way.”
“Well, no one would let him on a plane and I'm sure he thinks he could fly but I doubt he could. You are a pilot Dylan...” Kelsey hinted.
“I'm not worried about that. It's once we get there. That's the part I'm worried about.”
“It just feels like we're walking into a trap. I don't know either. Any way we look at it this whole thing is a bad idea.”
“I-I have a pl-plan,” Mark mumbled from the cot.
Frank looked at him half scoldingly. “Mark you're supposed to be asleep!”
“C-can't sleep when you guys are talking so much and I can't s-sleep when my sister and friend are in danger,” Mark replied.
“We're just trying to come up with a game plan,” Kelsey sighed.
“I am the one they want. I have what they want and the only way we are going to get them back is to give them what they want, which is me. But I'm not going without a fight. That's why I've come up with a plan. There's a stuffed otter in my flight bag.”
“A what?” Kelsey asked, completely confused and upset at the current issue at hand. Mark how is an otter going to help?”
“It's not the otter I want. It's what's inside. I had a fake but identical chip created and put in there for emergencies. I will simply let it fall into their hands, creating a distraction. That should give you guys, whom they won't know you're there, time to break in and find Sandra and Catherine, getting them out before they discover I've given them a fake,” Mark explained.
Dylan hesitated. “I-I don't know if that will work. I hate to think of you putting yourself in danger. But it's the best thing we've got I suppose...”
“Well if you had just given me a chance to explain everything instead of sedating me,” Mark glared at Kelsey, “we wouldn't have had a problem. Now I'm on some heavy medication right now and I know we have a very limited supply so we can't be dilly dallying before this infection spikes again, if it even does.” Mark stood up slowly and limped to the table.
“I gave him a pretty heavy dose of painkillers,” Kelsey told Dylan quietly. “I think that's why he's so perky. We don't have hardly any left. I was gonna head back to get some more but I don't think we're gonna have time now.”
“Well then what are we waiting for? We only have nine hours left,” Frank announced. “Let's go. Carmen, you coming?”
Carmen shook her head fiercely. “No way. I've just about had it with all of you. I don't want to be put in harm's way like that! I promise if you let me go I'll stay quiet.”
Mark hesitated. “Fine. But you're coming with us at least to the airport. We'll let you go there.” He picked up his flight bag. “Ok, I was unconscious when you brought me here so I have no clue where I am.”
Frank actually grinned, happy to see a bit of the old Mark back. “You're in Sandra's cave. Hey Dylan or Kelsey, do one of you mind pushing me in the wheelchair? That painkiller hasn't kicked in yet and I don't think I'll be able to walk out of here like I'd hoped.”
“Yeah sure. Kelsey, lead the way,” Dylan instructed as the group made their way out of the cave.
The walk back to the Silver Springs Airport took a while since Mark had to take it slow and Frank was confined to his wheelchair. Carmen followed meekly without complaint until they reached the airport where she quickly walked away without a word. Mark immediately climbed into the plane, sitting in the captain's chair.
“Whoa, no. Not so fast Mark,” Dylan told him firmly. “You're still very sick. You are going to sit in the back with Kelsey and take it easy. Frank will be here with me as co-pilot. Kelsey, go ahead and give him that medicine if he needs it. I know it's the last one but I still want him to be treated while we're flying. We have that oxygen tank and the supplies for the IV you brought along.”
“You hear that Mark? No protesting this time,” Kelsey smiled as she ushered Mark to the seats in the back.
“Alright,” Mark sighed as he consented. His breathing was a bit labored.
Kelsey handed him the oxygen mask. “Use this,” she encouraged. “You need to keep your strength up.”
Mark took it reluctantly, slipped it over his face and leaned his head back as he tried to fall asleep, knowing what she had said was true.
Dylan sat in the captain's seat after doing the pre-flight check and Frank hobbled to the adjacent one, sitting down with a grunt. “Barbara's gonna kill us,” he reminded grimly.
“I'll take the heat for it. We have to get the girls back.” Dylan started the plane and took off smoothly. “Next stop, St. Petersburg.”
Catherine groaned and opened her eyes. “S-Sandra?” she mumbled groggily.
Sandra sat up, sleepily rubbing her eyes. “Hmm?”
“J-just making sure you're still here.”
“Well it's not like I could walk out of here,” Sandra replied, smiling a bit.
“How long do you think we've been in here?” Catherine asked.
Sandra shrugged. “I have no clue. Time flies when you're having fun,” she remarked sarcastically.
“Goodness my head hurts. How's your shoulder?”
“It's killing me. My jaw too. Might be fractured, I don't know,” Sandra sighed.
“When we get out of here, I vote on a long trip to the beach,” Catherine replied decidedly.
“I've always wanted to go to Scotland or England,” Sandra answered.
“I-I know it sounds awful but I would like to visit my real mom and dad's graves.”
Sandra sighed. “I know what you mean.” Then she smiled a bit. “My English must be rubbing off on you. You said mom.”
“Maybe, my head's not really together at the moment.”
“I can't blame you,” Sandra assured her. “You got knocked out twice.”
“Yeah I know. My head hurts so badly.” Catherine leaned back against the concrete wall and closed her eyes.
Sandra bit her lip, eyeing her sister with concern. “I'm supposed to be a doc and I can't even do anything!”
“I-it's ok,” Catherine mumbled. “I'm sure it's nothing a little ibuprofen couldn't fix.”
“We don't even have that,” Sandra sighed. “I could ask...”
“No! Knowing them you'll just get punched again and I don't want anyone to ever hurt you again if I can help it.”
“Same. That's why I offered,” Sandra replied quietly.
“I'll be fine. It hurts me more to see you hurt,” remarked Catherine.
“Well I feel the same way!”
Catherine took Sandra's hand and squeezed it gently. “I'm ok. I promise.”
Sandra smiled. “We'll get out of here one way or another.”
“I tried to find a possible escape route when we were brought out earlier but it was kinda hard.”
“Me too. I didn't have any luck. Did anything look promising to you?” Sandra asked hopefully.
“It could've just been me but I may have seen an emergency exit on the south side of the building. But that would require us getting out of here first.”
Sandra slowly got to her feet and picked up the two pieces of rope that were lying on the floor. “We have these,” she reminded.
“What could we do with them?” Catherine asked, examining the objects.
A mischievous smile briefly crossed over Sandra's face. “Well...we could use them to hang a particular someone...”
“Boy I think I'd like that very much,” Catherine smirked back.
“I knew you would. That's why I said it.” Sandra glanced out of the bars of the cell. “Don't see any keys lying around do you?”
“No, Lillian and Juhotta are dumb but not that dumb.”
Sandra sighed. “It always seems to happen in storybooks. Maybe I read too much. I get wild ideas.”
Catherine smiled a bit. “It's good to have those dreams to hold on to.”
“Yes, but let's stay on topic. I don't think there's much we can do with this rope.”
“Well duh, I thought we had always established that.”
“I think we've hit a dead end here,” Sandra replied, sitting back down next to her sister.
“Yeah, it would seem so. I'm sorry.”
“No matter.” Sandra went quiet for awhile. Finally she sighed. “Boy I'm so thirsty!”
“Me too. Help me up.”
Sandra got to her feet and gave Catherine her hand to help her up. “What do you need?” she asked, puzzled.
“I'm gonna see if anyone understands the meaning of the term room service,” Catherine answered decidedly.
Sandra gulped. “That might be a bad idea.”
“It'll be fine. HEY!” she yelled loudly into the corridor. “What's a girl got to do for a drink around here?”
It took a few minutes of yelling but finally footsteps could be heard and Lillian appeared around the corner, looking mad. “How many times do I have to tell you to HUSH?” she snapped.
Catherine faked a laugh. “How about being a dear and fetching my pal and I some water?”
Lillian thought a moment. “Hmm...” she considered. “Maybe. It has been awhile.” without another word, she left.
“There now that's more like it!” Catherine gave Sandra a triumphant grin. “See? Told you. No trouble at all.” Sandra just shook her head worriedly.
Lillian returned a few minutes later with two plastic cups when she saw the ropes and realized they were free, her face darkened. “No water for you,” she snapped, letting some of it drip temptingly on the ground.
“Please,” Sandra begged, her eyes glued to the cup. “We're sorry. Please...just...we're so thirsty.”
“Juhotta did say not to kill you and I guess dehydration can do that so...fine,” Lillian consented, handing the cup to Sandra through the bars.
Sandra grabbed it and gulped the water greedily. Suddenly she began to gag and sputter, seeming like she was going to throw up.
“What did you do to her?!” Catherine yelled.
“I gave her water, just like she wanted,” Lillian replied, an evil smirk on her lips as she eyed Sandra who was bent over, gripping the bars of the cell so hard that her knuckles were white as she continued to choke on what she had just swallowed. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Sandra throw it up. She's put something toxic in it. You've got to throw it up!” Catherine coaxed her sister gently, trying to soothe her all while giving Lillian death glares.
Unable to talk, Sandra just shook her head, gasping. Lillian rolled her eyes and left the way she had come.
“You have to trust me Sandra. I promise it will stop if you just throw it up.” Catherine wrapped her arms comfortingly around her sister.
“N-not p-p-poison!” Sandra managed to reply. “S-salt. So m-much salt!”
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. “At least it won't kill you. Deep breaths Sandra. Just hang in there,” she encouraged as she helped Sandra to sit and rubbed her back gently.
Sandra seemed to be over the worst of her torment now. “S-sorry. Just didn't expect half a gallon of salt in my drink.”
“Goodness that woman is sick. And we still don't have any water,” Catherine muttered.
Chapter 6
About two hours into the flight, Dylan finally seemed to settle down and relax a bit. “Boy it's been way too long,” he mused, looking out into the vastness of the blue sky.
Frank nodded in agreement. “You'd think after two plane crashes I'd be terrified to fly but I'm not.”
“I guess I see why Mark loves it so much up here. It's so peaceful up here.”
“It is,” Frank grinned slightly, turning when he heard footsteps. “Oh hey Kelsey, what's up?”
“Hey. Um, Dylan, Mark's pain meds are wearing off so I think I'm going to give him another dose.”
“Alright, just make sure you use it sparingly. We have hardly any left,” Dylan sighed.
With a nod, Kelsey turned around and headed back into the cabin where Mark was. “Why don't you try to take another nap?” she suggested, injecting the medicine into his IV line. “I know it's hard but it would do you a world of good.”
Mark nodded, seeming to quiet a bit as the painkillers began to kick in. Kelsey sat next to him and closed her eyes as well, trying to ignore the beginning signs of the motion sickness that she was so prone to.
In the cockpit, the tension had returned. Dylan gripped the controls a little tighter. “I don't like this,” he muttered.
Frank was immediately on alert. “What? Don't like what?” he asked anxiously, instinctively looking around for danger.
“I'm worried about all this...Mark and the girls. I don't like them being in danger like this.”
“Me too,” Frank agreed, settling back in his seat. “Kelsey loves adventure and all but I'm afraid this is not the kind she should be experiencing.”
Dylan sighed. “I hate not being in control.”
“Don't we all? How long until we get there?”
“Approximately five hours but we do have the tail wind right now,” Dylan replied, checking his watch and gauges.
A worried look crossed Frank's face. “We're going to be cutting it extremely close here with this deadline Lillian gave us.”
“I'm afraid to think of what will happen if we miss it,” Dylan admitted. The small cockpit fell silent once more.
In the cabin, Mark's groan woke Kelsey from her light doze. She glanced at him, taking note that his eyes were a little glassy and unfocused. “Mark? You ok?” she asked, hoping his fever hadn't returned.
Mark shook his head, nudging off the oxygen mask. “Stomach h-hurts,” he mumbled.
“I know how you feel,” Kelsey sighed, trying to swallow back the wave of nausea that crashed over her.
“Y-you think so?” Mark's voice was rather sarcastic.
“Well...maybe not. But I feel pretty lousy.” Kelsey closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything but what she felt like doing which was throwing up. Her eyes flew open again a minute later though, as Mark suddenly scrambled up and made a mad dash for the bathroom. Upon locking the door, he collapsed to his knees, throwing up violently in the toilet.
Kelsey picked herself off the seat and went to the closed door of the bathroom. “Mark? Are you ok? Do you need something for the nausea? I'm sorry...I didn't realize...” her own symptoms were nearly unbearable now.
“F-Fine I'm fine. I-I'm o-ok,” Mark gasped, doubling over again and clutching his stomach like his insides were going to fall out.
Forcing her feet to move to the cockpit, Kelsey opened the door separating the cabin from the pilots. “Dylan? Mark j-just threw up. He won't come out, though I offered to give him something for the nausea.”
Dylan's face was tight with worry. “Frank can you take the wheel a minute or do you want to try and talk him out of there?”
“I can fly. I feel I make you jealous when I spend so much time with Mark. He is your friend too after all.”
“Actually you seem to have a way with him that no one else does. I guess you're like the father he never had. But if you don't want to I can.”
“If you insist then I will. But I don't want you feeling left out.”
“I can only tap into Mark's practical side. You have access to his emotions,” Dylan admitted. “Go ahead. I'll stay here.”
Frank nodded and left his seat, following Kelsey to the bathroom door which was still closed. “Mark?” he called gently.
“Go a-away. I'm f-fine,” Mark answered, struggling to hold back a groan.
Kelsey suddenly turned white. “I-I'm gonna be sick.”
Frank tapped on the door again, urgently. “Mark please, Kelsey needs in there. She's sick.”
There was a scuffling noise as Mark got to his feet. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. “F-Frank...” he murmured before his vision grayed and he blacked out, falling in a heap on the floor.
Seeing Kelsey's face, Frank snatched a bag out of the medical box on the seat, thrust it into her hands and then proceeded to try and force the door open by flinging his weight against it. The door opened easier than he expected and Frank nearly fell over Mark who was sprawled on the floor.
Kelsey immediately threw up in the bag. When she was done, she leaned weakly back against the seat, breathing hard.
“Mark? Mark wake up!” Frank urged, kneeling by the unconscious pilot.
“Hey! What's going on back there?” Dylan called from the cockpit.
“M-Mark passed out,” Kelsey replied.
By this time, Frank had managed to arouse his friend who, confused, was trying to bat his hands away.
“Mark, hey buddy it's me, Frank. Can you tell me what's wrong?” the elderly man urged soothingly.
“S-stomach h-hurts,” Mark moaned. “Th-threw up and i-it made it w-worse.”
“It's probably all the medicine he's on. Some of them can cause nausea. Probably strained the stitches when he threw up,” Kelsey reasoned, trying not to sound sick though she was feeling worse again.
“We'll give you something for the nausea,” Frank promised.
“N-no!” Mark cried. “I-it'll just m-make me drowsy. C-can't take it. G-gotta be strong. J-just talk me th-through this.”
“Here I'll help you up. The seats have to be more comfortable than the floor. Kelsey, give me a hand will you?”
Together they eased Mark slowly to his feet. Thankfully, he didn't become dizzy again and they managed to lay him down on them without incident. “S-sorry,” Mark gasped.
Frank sat down next to him and Kelsey sat on the opposite row. “Mark you really need that medicine. I don't want to risk tearing your stitches if you throw up again,” Frank told his friend gently.
“I-I'll be ok,” Mark mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.
Sighing, Frank shook his head. “You can be so stubborn sometimes Mark! Do you want some music or something?”
“D-don't know if that will help,” Mark answered weakly, taking shallow breaths to try and ease the nauseated feeling in his stomach. Kelsey reached over and placed the oxygen mask back around his head. “Deep breaths work better Mark,” she encouraged.
Mark managed a few but he quickly forgot. “Easy Mark. Just follow my example. Deep breaths,” Frank reminded. When he looked over at Kelsey, he noticed she was following his lead as well, another bag close at hand. Frank began to recite some Bible verses softly in German, trying to help them both. Eventually, Mark slipped into a light and uneasy sleep.
“One hour out!” Dylan called several hours later.
Frank slipped from his seat, trying not to wake up Mark who was still asleep, and disturb Kelsey, who was dozing fitfully. “Hey do you mind if I stay in the cabin?” he asked Dylan quietly. “Mark's out and Kelsey's sick. She's thrown up two times now. Finally fell asleep about two hours ago.”
“Of course,” Dylan agreed. “You're gonna have to wake them up before we land though.”
“I know,” Frank sighed as he headed back to the cabin. Kelsey was throwing up again and he sat next to her, massaging her shoulders gently.
The hour passed quickly. When Dylan announced that they were about to land, Frank limped over to Mark and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Mark we're here,” he called gently.
Mark's eyes fluttered open and he was immediately hit with pain. Frank found the last painkiller and injected it into Mark's IV before he could protest. Dylan smoothly landed the plane and Kelsey breathed a sigh of relief as the motion stopped. By this time, the painkiller had kicked in and Mark was back to his usual business like self.
“Alright people, this is how we're going to do it. We have 45 minutes to be in St. Petersburg. Lillian texted me the directions. Frank, put them on your phone. We'll take two separate cabs. I'll be in the first one and I want the rest of you guys to follow at a safe distance. You cannot be caught tailing us.”
“B-but you can't go alone! You'll be killed!” Kelsey stammered.
Mark looked at her, completely serious. “Kelsey, we have no choice. It's me they want. If I can distract them, that gives everyone else the best chance possible to get what we need. I looked the place up. It's an old parking lot. I assume Lillian will take me elsewhere. You need to be able to track us there.”
“We're walking into a trap,” Frank muttered under his breath.
“I know. But this is the best plan we've got,” Mark answered firmly. “Let's move people. We're wasting daylight.”
The two cabs were quickly hired. Kelsey gave Mark a hug and made him promise to be careful. Mark gave both Dylan and Frank handshakes. There were no goodbyes said aloud. Their eyes gave more than an ample one.
Mark pulled Frank aside. “Listen to me. Dylan and Kelsey, they're going to need a leader. I need you to be a leader for them and not worry about me, ok? Could you please do that for me?” Mark asked earnestly.
Frank agreed, trying not to look worried though he was sick with fear. reluctantly, he turned back to the others. Taking a shaky breath, Kelsey climbed into the second cab along with Frank and Dylan.
The ride to the address Lillian had given Mark did not take long. As the pilot was expecting, Lillian was there and waiting. Taking just a second to collect himself, Mark pushed his fears aside and walked towards his waiting enemy, Lillian. She wore a grim expression on her face but it broke into evil, greedy grin as she saw Mark.
Lillian eyed him, then looked around to make sure Mark hadn't been followed. Thankfully, the second cab was hidden well enough and far enough away to not be spotted. “Well I see you made it here and in time. Get in the back of the van.” Lillian gestured to an unmarked white van sitting behind them.
Mark crossed his arms defiantly. “Where are my sister and Sandra?” he demanded. “And where is Juhotta?”
Coolly laughing, Lillian fished in her pocket and pulled out a few strands of dark brown hair that Mark immediately recognized as Catherine's. His heart beat quicker with both anger and fear but he kept his face emotionless. “All that will be explained in due time,” Lillian was answering, her voice light and cooing as if she were trying to bribe a child with candy.
Shaking his head, Mark stood his ground. “No. Tell me where they are first.” he was so angry he failed to hear Juhotta's approach from behind.
“I'll tell you where they are,” the burly man growled, kneeing Mark in the stomach as the pilot spun around to face him. The pain exploded in his stomach, bringing him to his knees in agony. Juhotta smirked.
“Juhotta we need to hurry,” Lillian reminded sweetly.
“Yep. Time to go!” Juhotta called as he hauled Mark into the back of the van and shut the door. Both he and Lillian climbed into the front and sped off. In the back, Mark lay groaning as he waited for the pain in his stomach to ease. Behind the van, the taxi with Frank, Dylan and Kelsey followed, doing their best to stay out of sight.
After about a half hour of traveling, the two fugitives arrived at their destination. By that time, Mark had recovered most of his strength back and was ready for anything, or so he thought. As soon as Juhotta opened the doors, Mark sprang out and slammed a punch square into his jaw. “One good punch deserves another don't you think?” he taunted.
Lillian's hands jerked him away from Juhotta. Her eyes were like sparks from a flame. “Alright mister, you asked for it,” she replied as Juhotta kicked him in the stomach, then returned the punch to Mark's face. The pilot screamed and passed out. “Who's so tough now?” Lillian laughed heartlessly.
By now, the others were hiding, watching the commotion from behind an old car near the building Lillian had parked out. “Mark!” Dylan cried when he heard the pilot's scream. Without thinking, he stood up, intending to help.
Frank yanked him back down. There were tears in his eyes. “Dylan no! We can't. Stay here and wait till they take him inside.” he looked at Kelsey. Her face was pure white with horror.
“Lillian,” Juhotta was saying as they drug Mark into the building and closed the door behind them, locking it. “Take him to the conference room and tie him up so we can have a little chit-chat.”
“With pleasure!” Lillian promptly agreed, hauling the limp man into the directed room. Once she got him into a chair and tied up, she dumped a bucked of ice water on his head.
Mark gasped as he was jolted back into consciousness. The pain hit him so fast it took his breath away but he pushed it aside and forced himself to focus.
“Glad to see you're up Holbrook,” Juhotta sneered. “I've just had a lovely chat with my boss and he's coming especially to see you. Won't that be nice?”
Lillian smirked, her face full of mischief. “Why don't we “prepare” our guest while we wait? I'm sure he has a pretty nasty cut where his stitches were torn,” she gestured to the bloodstain on Mark's shirt. “I doubt my boot was clean either. We wouldn't want infection. Some salt water should clean and do the trick eh Juhotta?” her voice was smooth and enticing, mostly to annoy Mark.
Juhotta gave her a wicked grin. “That sounds just about right,” he agreed, cutting Mark's shirt off of him. He whistled at the sight of all the scars. “Too bad I wasn't there to make them all.”
Lillian left and came back with a bucket of water and a container of salt which she proceeded to mix where Mark could plainly see it. “That should just about do it,” she smiled in satisfaction, carrying the concoction over. “Ready Mark?”
Mark took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for what was coming. “Bring it on,” he shot back sassily.
“Enjoy!” Lillian laughed as she let the contents spill all over Mark's wound. Mark bit his lip so hard it bled and let out a few pained grunts but refused to give Lillian the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. This only annoyed her, but she refrained from saying anything.
Juhotta though, had other ideas. Grabbing a stick from the wall, he proceeded to beat Mark's body until the pilot was gasping in pain. Unable to hold back the cries any longer, they were torn from his body with each contact the weapon made. Finally, they both were satisfied. Juhotta untied Mark and drug him down the hall. “You stay put until my boss comes. Oh and, see, we kept our end of the deal...partially...” he added as he pushed the pilot into Sandra and Catherine's cell.
Meanwhile, outside, the others had come up with a plan of their own. “We need to split up,” Frank was saying.”
“I agree. I didn't see any guards but I'm sure the main entrances aren't the best way to go to get in,” Dylan piped in.
“Let's circle the building, and make sure we stay out of sight,” Kelsey suggested. “I don't think we have much time. I'll go with my dad and Dylan, are you ok going by yourself?”
“Yep. Sounds like a plan. Let's go!”
With that, the three headed out to search for entrances. They all met in the back of the building a few minutes later. “So? Find anything?” Frank asked urgently.
“Yeah, what looked to be a cellar entrance and a garbage service entrance,” Dylan answered. “You?”
Kelsey shook her head. “Not much on our end. The garbage service entrance would probably be our best bet. Let's check it out.”
“Mark!” Sandra and Catherine both cried as they raced to him. The pilot was soon wrapped in their embrace and both girls shed numerous tears at his physical condition and because they were so overjoyed and heartbroken at the same time, to see him.
“C-Catherine? S-Sandra? Are you girls ok?” Mark asked, trying to push aside the pain he was feeling.
“Why are you soaking wet Mark? What did they do to you?!” Sandra eyed him with concern. “Catherine, help me untie these ropes.” It was good to have something to do.
Quickly, Catherine untied Mark's bonds. “Sandra, he tore his stitches and he's bleeding badly,” she noted.
Sandra nodded. Luckily she had a tank top on underneath her shirt so she removed her t-shirt and tore it to make it longer before pressing the cloth to Mark's wound. He grimaced in pain. “A-agh! Don't p-press hard I might b-be bleeding internally,” he warned.
“There is some bruising,” Sandra mused. “What are you doing here anyway? I told you not to come!”
“H-had to save you g-guys,” Mark answered.
“I figured you wouldn't listen,” Catherine sighed. “Now you're trapped here with us.”
“The o-others came,” Mark told them.
“They what?!” Sandra gasped. “A-are they safe?!”
“I hope so. They came separately. Probably trying to get inside and find a way to get you out of here.”
“Stop moving Mark!” Sandra urged as she tried to counteract his attempt to sit up against the wall. “I need to stop this bleeding. You can save us later.”
“I'm not saving you this time. I'm the distraction,” Mark replied.
Chapter 7
Lillian walked up to Juhotta, smirking so menacingly that he knew something was up. “Hey Juhotta, I've got another idea to make their lives miserable while we wait...” she began.
“Oh do tell!” Juhotta grinned slyly.
“Do you remember those canisters of tear gas that we have in the back room? Perhaps we could set off a few...”
“There's an idea. I also have try and get that chip out before the boss comes.”
“Great! And that sounds intriguing. Hope you don't mind if I join you.” Lillian tossed her golden hair over her shoulder.
“Well, actually I was wondering if you had any ideas since you seem to be on your bad side today.” Juhotta's voice was just a bit teasing.
Lillian rolled her eyes, not hesitating as she replied, “oh that's easy. He's obviously madly loyal to his friends. They're the key. Do something to them where he can see and hear them and he'll hand it right over.” she gave him a smug smile.
“Let's tie all three of them to chairs in the conference room,” Juhotta suggested. “Then we can have our fun.”
Both Lillian and Juhotta headed to the cell where their prisoners were sitting. The sight of Juhotta's gun and Lillian's too were enough to subdue them to the point where the girls allowed themselves to be tied to the chairs without much of a struggle. Mark was dragged to a chair opposite him. Blood was already seeping through Sandra's makeshift bandage.
“Stop! Stop please! You're hurting him!” Catherine begged.
“Oh hush. He'll be fine,” Lillian muttered as she hauled him onto the chair and tied him securely to it.
Juhotta strolled over to him. “The boss is gonna be here soon and you won't like the way he works,” he warned. “How about making things easier on yourself and tell us where the chip is. You were supposed to bring it. Remember what I threatened you with?” he gestured to the two girls. “Tell me where it is.”
Mark remained quiet, staring defiantly into the black eyes of Juhotta. Faster than he could blink, the burly man backhanded him so hard he saw stars.
“You're just making it harder on yourself Mark,” Lillian giggled.
The door to the conference room opened and A huge figure of a man stepped into the room. He towered above Juhotta, standing nearly seven feet tall. His frame was extremely muscular and the sight of his large, powerful hands was enough to strike fear into someone. His eyes were hid by black glasses but his whole presence radiated power.
“Look who we have here!” His voice held a thick foreign accent.
“Andreas! Glad you made it safely,” Juhotta greeted his boss.
Mark glared at the newcomer. “I remember you...” he muttered through gritted teeth. “They warned me about you.”
“Did they?” Andreas pulled off his glasses, revealing piercing eyes, black as midnight. His shaggy hair matched them perfectly. “Well they had good reason to.” Andreas's deep, powerful voice was like thunder. “I'm not going to play games Mark. Hand the chip over NOW.”
“Never,” Mark growled.
A slow grin spread across Andreas's face. His eyes glittered with evil schemes. “Very well Mark,” he answered casually, striding over to Sandra who sat, frozen with fear and as white as a ghost. Andreas pulled a knife out of his pocket and pressed it against her neck, watching Mark's face intently. “How about now? One little cut and it's over.”
Mark tried to swallow his growing panic. Where were the others?! “N-no! No please! She's not involved in this. This is between you and me.” he tried stalling for time.
Andreas smirked, glad he was a master magician. “Then I'll use her to get what I want.” With a quick movement, he brought the knife horizontally across Sandra's neck. Red liquid splattered everywhere as Sandra's head slumped forward and her eyes closed. Catherine screamed.
Mark's yell of rage echoed around the room. “YOU KILLED HER!” He bellowed, fighting the ropes tying him. It was no use. They were too secure.
“Yep, and Catherine's next. WHERE is the chip?!” Andreas demanded, holding the knife to Catherine's neck now. The young female was sobbing heartbrokenly, crying out Sandra's name. When the knife was pressed against her throat, she swallowed back another cry and stared at Mark, her eyes pleading. She was shaking from head to foot.
“A-alright. Alright,” Mark gave in, glancing in horror at Sandra who sagged, limp in the chair. The red liquid was trickling towards his feet. “I-it's in my pocket. P-please...just d-don't hurt Catherine.” Shame and guilt racked his body, for it was his actions that had killed her. She had died over him refusing to hand over a chip and a fake one at that. Mark felt sick.
With a grin, Andreas motioned for Juhotta to search Mark's pockets. The man pulled out the object a minute later. “There! Was that so hard?” Andreas asked, looking over at Sandra. “Aww, looks like it's too late for your little friend. Too bad. But you won't have much time to enjoy life either. Lillian, Juhotta, come on. This place is set to blow in ten minutes.” With that, the three fugitives left the room.
Kelsey, Dylan and Frank hurried to the service entrance that Dylan had found. Dylan eyed it a minute, having a better close up look. “Ok...Frank if I hoist you up there do you think you can help the rest of us up?” he asked hopefully.
Frank nodded. “Sure. Will do,” he agreed. “Doesn't look too high for us to manage.”
Dylan positioned himself to give Frank a boost. With a grunt, he helped lift Kelsey's dad up enough to where Frank could pull himself up. Once he was safely on top of the ledge, Frank reached a hand down. “Alright, Kelsey, you're next.”
It took a minute, but all three of them managed to make it into the building. Luckily, it seemed to be abandoned, at least at their current position. “Hurry! We don't have much time!” Kelsey whispered as they headed down the halls. Frank and Dylan held their pistols at the ready as they quietly opened each unlocked door and looked for their friends.
At last, they reached the conference room. Bursting into the room, all three rescuers breathed a huge sigh of relief. That is, until Kelsey saw Sandra and her condition. With a cry of alarm and fear, she raced over, past a sobbing Catherine, and ignoring everyone else, knelt next to her friend. “Sandra! S-Sandra no...please no!” Kelsey begged. The pain on her face quickly turned to that of a puzzled expression. “She's not dead...why...this isn't even real blood! She must have been drugged. Sandra! Wake up!” Kelsey shouted, shaking her friend.
Sandra came to with a moan and Mark felt a such wave of relief crash over him that he nearly passed out from both the sensation and blood loss. “Wh-what happened?” Sandra moaned.
“There's no time to explain. They g-gt the chip and they just left. This b-building is going to explode! We've got about eight minutes I'd say,” Catherine informed the others, still sobbing with relief over Sandra.
Frank hobbled over to Mark and untied him while Dylan did the same with the girls. “Dylan help me with Mark! I can't manage his weight by myself and with a bad knee.”
“No. I-I've got some unfinished b-business. They can't be far.” Mark stood up, swayed a bit unsteadily, then regained his balance.
“We have got to go. This building is going to blow!” Dylan reminded urgently, ushering everyone out into the hall. “Where's the exit?” The group of survivors and their rescuers traveled down the hallway as fast as they could. Frank remained by Mark as they were the slowest of the group. They soon fell quite a distance behind the others.
Mark slumped against the wall, breathing hard. His energy was draining from his body nearly as fast as the blood seeping out from his torn stitches. Frank grabbed his arm. “Mark come on!” he urged.
Shaking his head, Mark swallowed hard. “G-go. Frank go! While you can. D-dying anyways...” his voice trailed off weakly.
“Dylan help!” Frank yelled. “I can't carry Mark!”
The others raced back. “Guys we only have five minutes!” Kelsey frantically exclaimed.
“Come on Mark. You aren't through yet!” Dylan grunted as he hauled Mark over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and they resumed their progress towards the elusive exit.
Suddenly, Juhotta jumped out of the shadows, yanking Mark out of Dylan's grasp. “Holbrook! You aren't getting away that easy!” he growled. “That chip was a fake!”
Kelsey's face turned white in horror but she gamely sent a kick into Juhotta's shin. “Take that!”
Juhotta stepped back and grabbed Mark by the throat. “Take one more step and I'll kill him!” he threatened. “This no longer concerns you.”
“J-just g-go!” Mark gasped weakly, pinned against the wall in Juhotta's firm grasp.
“No! We can't leave without you!” Catherine wailed, terrified.
Juhotta swung with his free hand, punching Mark in the stomach. The blood drained from Mark's already pale face. Had Juhotta not been holding him, he would have doubled over in debilitating agony. “You're only hurting him by attacking me. How much more do you think his remaining stitches can take?”
“Guys we have two minutes left!” Dylan yelled.
“J-just go!” H-have to go!” Mark ground out from between gritted teeth. Seeing Frank wasn't about to leave him, the pilot made a valiant effort to persuade him otherwise. “F-Frank you p-promised. L-leader...” he couldn't say anything else as Juhotta completely cut off his air supply.
Knowing that he was betraying his best friend, Frank could only stare. Dylan suddenly grabbed him by the arm, yanking him towards the exit. Time seemed to pass in slow motion. He vaguely remembered Kelsey and Catherine running beside him, their bodies a blur. The only thing that was clear was Mark's blue eyes, telling him he was doing the right thing. The look of affirmation. Those eyes followed him until Frank was out of sight and the world rushed back into real time.
Once his friends were gone, Mark summoned all of his remaining effort and wrenched himself free of Juhotta's iron grip. “It's over now. You will never get the real chip.” Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, masking the pain he should have been feeling.
“I may not but if I go, you're coming with me!” Juhotta growled as he lunged at Mark.
With a mighty effort, Mark managed to tackle Juhotta to the ground, hoping to incapacitate him long enough to make his own escape. Juhotta fell, nearly landing on his face. A grunt escaped his lips as he struggled to get to his feet. “Get back here you!” he yelled, chasing after Mark who was staggering down the hallway. He quickly overtook the wounded pilot and slammed him to the floor. “This is your death sentence so ACCEPT IT!” he roared.
Mark elbowed Juhotta in the face with all his might. A satisfying crack indicated a broken nose. Juhotta went limp, unconscious from the blow. Staggering to his feet, Mark raced for the exit. “Thirty seconds...” he mumbled under his breath.
Meanwhile, Dylan and the others had found the exit. Boosting Frank up, Dylan helped the girls climb up to reach him and escape out the opening. “Catherine you're next. Hurry!” Dylan yelled. As soon as she was out, Dylan struggled up just as Sandra reached them, not being as fast a runner as the others. Dylan gave her his hand as the others ran away as fast as they could. All Frank could think about was the friend he had left behind. Half hoping to catch a glimpse of him, Frank turned his head towards the entrance they had just climbed out of. He was nowhere to be seen. But wait! What was that? Just as Sandra climbed over the edge, Mark appeared.
With strength he didn't know he had, Mark jumped up, grabbed the ledge and tried to hoist himself up. Sandra was right in front of him. 5...4...3...2... Mark had pulled himself up...1...
There was a sickening explosion and the building crumbled, disappearing in a thick cloud of smoke and fire. “MARK!” Frank cried, unsure if the pilot had jumped out in time or not. “N-no! Mark no!”
Dylan had spotted the pilot as well and raced towards the wreckage, crying out Mark's name. It was several minutes before the dust began to settle and there was still no sign of Mark or Sandra. The air was filled with cries of their names as Dylan, Frank, Catherine and Kelsey searched frantically, choking on the dirt that they inhaled, and blinking back tears from the smoke.
“Sandra!” Dylan gasped as he found her body. Tripping over fallen bricks and rubble, he made his way over to her and felt for a pulse. He was relieved to find one. Sandra had been thrown from the window by the explosion, landing in a pile of debris. She lay unconscious, breathing shallowly. Blood flowed over the rocks from a serious injury, the ground quickly turning red beneath her head. Her face was as white as a ghost and her eyes were closed.
As soon as Kelsey found out her friend was alive, she returned her search for Mark, leaving Dylan to care for her. “MARK?!” Frank yelled frantically. “Mark where are you?!”
Sandra's eyes flickered open, dull and hazy. “Wh-what...” she murmured.
“Shh,” Dylan cautioned. “Hey, don't talk ok? Just relax. You're fine. I'm getting help right now,” he soothed.
“Mark!” Catherine screamed. “I found him!” tears streamed down her face as she saw him pinned underneath a large beam. She pushed the smaller debris off of him, unable to move the large structure. “Help! S-somebody h-help me!” Catherine sobbed, unsure if Mark was even alive.
Frank stumbled over. “Here! I'll help. On the count of three...”
Together they managed to move the beam enough to pull Mark out. Catherine knelt beside him, gently rolling him onto his back. “N-no! Oh no! “Mark please! Please wake up!” she begged. “Kelsey! Somebody help!” Catherine sobbed as she cradled Mark's limp body in her arms.
Chapter 8:
Kelsey swallowed hard. “Is he breathing?” She asked urgently, picking her way carefully over to them.
Catherine put her ear next to Mark's mouth. Her face was white as she shook her head. By now, her shirt was half red from the pilot's blood.
“Shoot!” Kelsey lay Mark down and quickly began CPR. “Come on Mark! Stay with me!” she begged between repetitions.
A few feet away, Dylan was having his own troubles trying to call an ambulance with the language barrier. He knew some Russian but not nearly enough to be fluent. Finally he was transferred to someone who knew English. “Yes,” he was saying. “Please send the ambulance. We have two very seriously injured people. A woman with a serious head wound and deep puncture wound to the side. I believe it missed the internal organs but I'm not sure. The man has...” Dylan looked up and saw Kelsey bending over Mark's unconscious body trying to breathe life back into him. His heart sank. “H-he's not breathing.”
Sandra's eyes flickered open again. This time, she roused enough that the pain seemed to hit her like a ton of bricks. Her breathing quickened to short, frantic gasps that sounded rather labored.
Dylan looked down at her. “Sandra, easy. Easy,” he urged, trying to make his voice sound as soothing as possible. It was rather hard when his attention kept riveting back to Mark. “Sandra you've got to calm down. Help will be here in just a few minutes.”
“N-no...” Sandra cried, her entire body feeling like it was on fire. “C-can't! AGH! Ah! D-Dylan!” she was practically writhing now.
“Sandra listen to me,” Dylan urged as he took her blood covered, trembling hand into his own. “Focus on my voice ok? Just calm down. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Come on, you can do it. Just focus on me.”
Faint sirens could now be heard in the distance. Kelsey was still gamely trying to keep Mark alive but she was quickly getting tired. Dylan tried to swallow the urge to run to him, knowing that Sandra needed him.
Sandra did her best to follow his instructions but her breathing remained irregular, coming in harsh, ragged gasps. Tears of pain rolled down her face, mixing with the blood already splattered there and dripping in crimson drops on the gray rocks below her. Finally, the ambulance pulled up. Dylan sighed with relief and stepped back so the medics could get her onto the stretcher. “It's gonna be ok now Sandra,” he promised soothingly as an oxygen mask was placed around her face and one of the medics inserted an IV with morphine.
The second ambulance crew had their attention set on Mark. Kneeling beside him, they took over CPR for Kelsey who was now gasping and worn out. “Quick! Weak pulse, he's not breathing. Lapsing into cardiac arrest. Let's get him into the ambulance. We'll stabilize him on the way.”
“No! No stop! He's dying!” Catherine screamed as she tried to hold onto Mark as the medics lifted him onto the stretcher and began bagging him.
Frank gently held her back, trying to remain calm for her sake. “Catherine shh. Listen to me. He's in good hands. They know what they're doing. Come on, we'll follow them in the taxi.”
“N-no. Frank go. G-go with them!” Catherine begged as Mark was lifted into the back of the ambulance He was immediately obscured from view by the paramedics as they began to slide a tube down Mark's throat to get him on a vent.
“I'll get us there. Go Dad. He needs you,” Kelsey chimed in, now having got some of her breath back.
Frank didn't hesitate as he hurried after the paramedics. They let him into the back and went screaming off, sirens blaring noisily as they raced towards the hospital. Dylan had left with Sandra and only the two of them were left. Catherine broke down in gut wrenching sobs and Kelsey wrapped her arm around her until she was calm enough to walk back to the taxi.
“Sir we're losing him!” One of the paramedics in Mark's ambulance exclaimed.
“Mark please!” Frank begged. “Come on buddy! Fight!” he buried his head in his hands, completely overwhelmed with shock and bewilderment. “God why did this have to happen!?” He murmured quietly. “P-please...please take care of him. Sandra too,” he added, his voice trembling with emotion.
Everyone arrived at the hospital at almost the same time. As they were pulling Mark out of the ambulance, he flatlined. The paramedics quickly started chest compressions as they raced his gurney into the ambulance, Frank following. Sandra was wheeled in right behind him and Dylan stepped over to Frank, letting her be taken back.
“Please!” Frank called, watching Mark get smaller as he was wheeled down the hall. “I'm a doctor. Please let me help!” he begged, trying to catch up.
A nurse gently ushered him back, a sympathetic look on her face. “I'm sorry sir. You can't go back there. You need to sit in the waiting room with the rest of your family.” her voice was thick with a Russian accent.
“N-no please! I'm begging you!” Frank was desperate. “H-he needs me! He doesn't know any of you!”
“Frank listen. They'll escort us out. Come on. There's nothing we can do for him but pray. Let's find the girls,” Dylan suggested, though his heart was aching.
In the waiting room, Kelsey was arguing with a nurse, trying to gain access to her friends. When she saw Dylan and her dad, she gave up. “I tried everything. The won't let me back there.” Kelsey glanced worriedly at Dylan. “Y-you ok?” she asked, glancing over his blood splattered clothing and bloodied hands.
Dylan sat down and the others followed suit. “Y-yeah. I'm f-fine,” he said, trying to hide his shaking hands and bouncing his knee up and down nervously.
Kelsey nodded, staring at the clock. Each minute felt like an eternity. Catherine sat, silent and shaking in her chair. Her face was still white, a stark contrast to her shirt and pants which were now red with drying blood. Finally, she looked up, turning her head to Frank. “I-is he ok? Please. I-I want the truth. Is my brother ok?” she asked in a trembling tone.
“I-I don't know Catherine. He wasn't looking so good when I had t-to let him go,” Frank admitted.
Catherine buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Kelsey wasn't far behind, though she struggled valiantly to keep the tears back. Dylan, who was sitting next to her, leaned closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He had never dared to before, but under the circumstances, he figured she wouldn't mind. She didn't. In fact, she cried. Softly, but still.
“Hey, hey,” Dylan called softly. “Sandra's going to be just fine. You know how tough she is. Remember when she got bit by that dog and I practically had to sew her arm together? She even had enough sass to inform me that I was doing it wrong. She's probably in there now, telling the doctors off for doing something sloppy.”
Kelsey managed a weak smile at this, just because it was so unlike Sandra and the thought was rather funny. It wasn't funny enough to last long though.
“I-it should h-have been me.”
“No, it shouldn't have been anyone. E-especially not Sandra and Mark,” Dylan replied, getting choked up himself.
“I-I can't bear sitting here in suspense like this!” Kelsey announced. “I-I have to know if Sandra's going to be ok. W-what if she doesn't make it?!”
Catherine sniffled. “O-of course she'll make it. She has to. Sh-she's my sister. We come from strong stock.”
Kelsey jerked back like she had been shot. “What did you just say?!” she gasped.
“I-I guess I never got around to telling you. While we were captured, Sandra showed me her locket. I have one just like it. Both the pieces fit together. W-we're sisters.”
“I-it could have just been another one similar!” Kelsey stammered, not sure what to think.
Catherine shook her head. “No, we both remember enough to confirm it.”
“W-wow...what a shock...” Kelsey mumbled, her tired brain only half processing.
“It really was,” Catherine answered.
Some time later, a surgeon stepped into the waiting room. “Anyone here for Sandra Valentine and Mark Holbrook?” he asked, looking around.
Both Kelsey and Frank jumped up, as did the others. Frank's shaking hands were thrust nervously in his pockets. Kelsey looked over the doctor anxiously. “Y-yes. All five of us are here. How are they?” she asked urgently.
“I'm pleased to say that Mrs. Valentine came through surgery like a champ. It was touch and go for awhile but she is as tough as they come. We have her on an oxygen mask and are very optimistic about her recovery, at least physically. Unfortunately we won't know how serious her head injury is until she wakes up. Thankfully there was no cranial swelling or fracture of the skull. Oh, she also received second degree burns on her legs so we'll be treating that as well,” he informed them.
Kelsey breathed a slight sigh of relief. “What about Mark?”
“He's still in surgery. I know nothing else. I'm sorry.” The surgeon's voice was sympathetic.
“Oh. Can you find out?” Dylan asked anxiously. “And when can we see Sandra?”
“I'm afraid I'm not authorized to give out information on a patient that is not my own. But you may see Sandra now if you like, though I'd advise you to keep everything low-key for now. Her room is 221.” The surgeon turned to lead them down the hall.
“Is she awake yet?” Kelsey questioned.
“No,” the surgeon replied. “But she should be coming off the anesthetic shortly.”
Kelsey gave Catherine a worried smile. “You alright?” she asked, noticing that Sandra's sister was looking a bit panicked.
Catherine only nodded as they arrived outside of the room. The surgeon opened the door and led them in. “Here you are. Press the call button if you need anything,” he reminded as he slipped out.
Kelsey turned to look at her best friend lying so still on the hospital bed. Sandra's face was nearly as white as the pillow and there were several dark scratches in stark contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes were still closed. A bandage was wrapped around her head, covering the wound they were so concerned about. Kelsey gently lifted the covers, exposing the burns. Her own face paled as she quickly covered the sight back up.
Dylan whistled softly. “Boy she's going to have stories to tell about all those scars later,” he murmured.
Catherine had backed herself into the corner in horror, her eyes locked on Sandra in horror. Sweat was rolling down her face and she was breathing rather heavily. Kelsey put a hand on her shoulder. “Catherine? What's wrong?” she asked earnestly.
“M-Mark...I-I have to see him...I-I can't...H-he was dead!” she was full on hyperventilating now.
“He's not dead!” Dylan insisted. “Please...please don't say that!”
Catherine shook her head. “N-n-no. He was dead. H-he wasn't breathing...I can't breathe! Wh-why can't I breathe! Where's Mark!?” she panicked.
“Listen to me Catherine!” Kelsey urged. “Just because someone isn't breathing doesn't mean they're dead. Believe me, I should know. Now listen, I need you to calm down. Panicking like this isn't helping anything. Just slow your breathing down and take deep breaths instead.”
Doing her best, Catherine managed to take slower, gasping breaths, and gradually calmed down. “I-I'm sorry,” she finally mumbled. “I-I've just been through way too much in the past few hours and it's starting to get to me. I'm tired, my head hurts and I'm beyond scared.”
“It's alright,” Kelsey hastened to assure her. “I'm only one step behind you. We can go to the waiting room if you like...if this is too much for you.” she gestured to Sandra.
“No. Sandra is my sister. I need to be here for her,” Catherine insisted.
Just then, Sandra's eyes fluttered open. Dylan stepped closer to her bedside. “Sandra? Sandra it's alright. We're all here. It's ok now, just like I promised,” he told her gently.
Sandra's blue eyes drifted lazily over to Dylan, then to Catherine but she was too drugged up and sleepy to process anything. Catherine sat down in the chair next to her bed and took her sister's hand in hers. “It's ok sis. You're brilliant. Just sleep and we can talk a little later ok?”
The only response Sandra gave her was the tiniest nod and her eyes slipped closed in slumber once more.
A soft knock at the door grabbed everyone's attention. A second surgeon poked his head in through the half open door. “Excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you all but are you Mark Holbrook's family?” he asked.
“No...well, some of us are,” Kelsey corrected herself. “Is he ok?”
“Is there someone close to him that I can speak to? The man who rode with him in the van seemed pretty close. Frank, I believe?”
Frank's face turned as white as a sheet. “Uh...yes, I guess you could say that. But Catherine is his sister and Dylan here is very close to him as well.”
Dylan's face was as pale as Frank's now. “G-go on Frank. I'll be fine and I don't think Catherine can take any more.”
The surgeon nodded and motion Frank out of the room and a little ways down the hall. “What's wrong with Mark?” Frank blurted out, really not wanting to know.
“Holbrook is out of surgery,” the surgeon announced, hesitating. “I really hate to break the news to you like this, but unfortunately we don't think he'll make it through the night.”
Frank gaped at him in disbelief, as his mind numbed in shock and denial. “N-no...no you must be wrong,” he finally replied, his voice thin with fright.
The surgeon sighed. His voice was quite sympathetic as he answered, “I'm sorry. You may see him if you like but we can only allow one visitor at a time.”
Again, Frank settled into silence, trying to process the potentially devistating news he had just heard. After nearly a minute, he slowly nodded, trying to keep his composure. “L-let me break the news first,” he mumbled, swallowing hard.
“I'll wait for you right here,” the surgeon assured him.
The walk down the hall back to Sandra's room gave Frank just enough time to gather his thoughts together. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he let himself into her room. Kelsey, Dylan and Catherine all looked at him anxiously. Frank felt sick.
“Well, how is he?” Dylan asked. Behind him, Catherine clutched Sandra's hand tighter and remained silent.
Frank was very reluctant to speak. Finally he cleared his throat. “M-Mark's out of surgery,” he began, repeating the surgeon's words to him.
“And...” Catherine spoke up, trying to sound hopeful though every doubt she had was slowly crushing that feeling.
Stalling for time, Frank ran his fingers nervously through his graying hair, dreading the news he had to break. “Th-the doc says...he said M-Mark probably won't make it through the n-night,” he finally answered.
Dylan went numb with shock. Suddenly it registered. Pushing past Frank he headed for the door. “E-excuse me,” he muttered, disappearing around the corner.
Kelsey made a move to follow him but Frank lay a hand on her arm, knowing he needed space. “Bleiben Sie hier Kelsey, stay here,” he told her. Kelsey nodded dumbly and sat in a second chair.
Catherine's eyes were filled with tears. “G-go to him Frank. M-Mark is your boy and if anyone is going to pull him out of this, it'll b-be you.” She choked back a sob before continuing. “I-I'll come and see him in a bit.”
Nodding, Frank made his way back to the surgeon who was still waiting. "Come with me," he directed as he led Frank down the hall, bringing him to the critical care ward. There, they walked to Mark's room which really just looked like a glass box. There was a coding station outside his room, ready if needed. The surgeon let Frank in.
Mark was lying in bed with his eyes closed. There was a white bandage around his head as well as on his arms for the burns he received. Thick padding and gauze were wrapped around his stomach. There was a tube down his throat connected to a ventilator that was breathing for him, another in his chest, and yet another in his stomach to drain the infection. His face was bruised where Juhotta had hit him. The pilot looked as pale as death.
It took all of Frank's willpower to keep his composure. The surgeon showed him where the call button, gave Frank a sympathetic smile and left. Frank numbly sat down in a chair beside Mark's bed and remained silent for a long, long time, just trying to process the information and emotions. Finally, Frank cleared his throat. “M-Mark...” he began, hesitating, unsure if Mark could hear him or not, though he knew it really didn't matter.
There was no answer other than the constant sound of the air being forced in and out of Mark's lungs by the ventilator and the beep of the heart monitor mapping out Mark's slow, weak heartbeat.
Frank took a deep breath. “M-Mark, I-I'm asking you to fight. I know y-you're tired...and scared, b-but...” Frank cleared his throat again, trying to keep the huskiness from sounding so much. “We-we're all here for you. But...” despite himself, Frank couldn't help the tear that rolled slowly down his cheek as he took Mark's limp hand into his. “If...if you're too tired to fight...” his tears were falling faster now. “If you're too tired, I-I won't say g-goodbye. J-just know th-that we'll miss you t-terribly. Y-you're the best friend a-anyone could want. A-and I love you l-like a father.” Unable to control his emotions any longer, Frank bowed his head and wept.
Chapter 9:
Back in Sandra's room, Catherine sat, dazed, in her chair, almost to numb to feel anything. When Sandra stirred slightly, it broke her out of her trance-like state. “Oh sis,” she mumbled. “Please-please be ok. Do you hear me? I-I've lost everything and n-now I'm losing my baby brother. I d-don't want to lose my little s-sister too. W-we still haven't had slumber parties o-or played Barbies or done each other's h-hair and whatever else s-sisters do. Just please...please don't leave me,” she begged.
Sandra's fingers twitched slightly in response to her sister's pleading. Catherine squeezed her hand gently. “I'm right here Sandra, right here with you sis,” she assured. “I won't let you go again. I promise.”
Sleepily, Sandra opened her blue eyes and lazily looked at Catherine who tried to smile through her tears. “Thank you Sandra. Thank you,” she whispered.
For a long moment, Sandra just stared blankly. After a minute, her eyes began to slip shut again. Catherine settled back into her chair with a sigh, still holding her sister's hand. The room settled into silence. Catherine nearly jumped when Sandra broke the stillness by coughing weakly into the mask, wincing at the pain it brought.
“C-Cath-Catherine?” Sandra gasped.
Catherine leaned forward. “Shh-shh,” she soothed. “I'm right here. It's ok. You're ok.”
Sandra blinked. “Where 'm I?” she mumbled. It was difficult to understand her.
“You're in the hospital Sandra, remember? The building exploded and you were thrown out.” Catherine's equally blue eyes peered searchingly into Sandra's.
“My head hurts,” Sandra murmured in response.
“I know. I'm going to get you a nurse,” Catherine promised as she pressed the call button.
The nurse wasn't long in coming. Catherine quickly explained the situation and Sandra was soon set up with another round of painkillers. When the nurse left and Sandra was feeling a bit better, she looked around slowly. “Where's that man?”
Catherine looked confused. “What man?”
“Th-the man that was here earlier. Tall with d-dark hair. He was talking to me, couldn't understand him.”
“Do you mean Dylan? Or your doctor?” Catherine asked, leaning forward a bit in her chair. Her voice betrayed her fear.
Sandra hesitated a very long moment. “Um...Dylan,” she finally answered.
“Do you remember him?” Catherine wondered nervously.
“H-he called the ambulance and saved me...”
“But do you remember who he is?” Catherine persisted.
“He's a friend...” Sandra sounded almost like she was guessing.
Catherine wasn't convinced. “What else do you you remember? Do you remember Mark?” Sandra only squirmed and didn't answer. Catherine took her hand. “Come on. Mark Holbrook. He's a pilot. You've saved his life multiple times.”
“Um...yeah...Mark huh? Good friend too...” Sandra seemed very tense.
“Anything else? Sorry, I've got to see how hard you hit your head.”
Sandra shook her head. “D-don't want to talk. Tired,” she mumbled. “D-don't feel good.”
“I know. It's alright. We can talk later.” Catherine squeezed Sandra's hand reassuringly.
“C-Catherine?” Sandra asked, now sounding frightened.
“It's ok Sandra. I'm right here. Do you need something?”
“Wh-why was I in an exploding b-building?”
Catherine hesitated, not wanting to scare Sandra any more than she already was. “We were kidnapped,” she finally answered.
“Wh-why?” Sandra asked with increasing anxiety.
“The bad guys tried to get to Mark by kidnapping us,” Catherine responded.
Tears formed in Sandra's eyes. “C-Catherine y-you've got to promise s-something. C-can't tell a-anyone. Pr-promise.”
Catherine nodded. “O-ok...what's wrong?”
“I-I can't remember a-anyone or a-anything...except you.”
Dylan sat on a barstool in a pub he'd managed to find. His second glass of beer was sitting half full in front of him as Dylan stared at it listlessly, practically in a daze and too numb to process anything. Kelsey walked in, having remembered that he had been known to drink on occasion. Upon spotting his slouched form, she immediately breathed both a sigh of relief, and a sigh of anger. “What are you doing?!”
To Kelsey's surprise, Dylan only stared at her a minute before looking back at his half finished drink, picking it up and lifting the glass to his mouth. Kelsey snatched it, nearly spilling the yellow liquid. “Hey. Drinking won't help anyone or anything. Stop it now. Don't you remember what happened last time you drank?! They won't let you in the hospital if you're drunk anyhow,” she added, hoping he wasn't so intoxicated already that he couldn't listen to reason.
Dylan scowled. “Why would I want to go back there anyway?” he muttered gruffly.
“Because the Dylan I know would be there for his friends no matter what,” Kelsey answered without hesitation. “And Mark would be there for you if he were in your shoes. Besides, Dad is going to kill me if he finds out I've been in a pub.”
“Then go,” Dylan replied. He was silent a moment. “I-I can't watch him slip away. I can't watch h-how I've failed him from every angle. I-I just can't.” Tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks though he fought hard to hold them back.
Kelsey put her hands on her hips. “You're giving up? Just like that?!”
“Didn't you hear?! The bloody doc said he wasn't going to make it through the night!” Dylan bellowed, turning his sadness to anger. The bartender gave him a dark look but said nothing.
“They aren't positive. And the LEAST you could do is be there for him!” Kelsey retorted, almost as angry.
“I can't watch my friend die. I-I can't. I just can't!” Dylan finally broke down in tears and it softened Kelsey's heart a bit.
“We all have to go sometime. Imagine yourself in his place a minute. Wouldn't you want your friends with you?” Kelsey asked, a bit less harsh.
“I-I can't. I'm not as strong as he is. I just can't. H-he wasn't supposed to go this way.”
“He's not dead. D-don't make things worse. Please. At least stop drinking before you do something you regret.” Kelsey momentarily thought about putting a hand on his shoulder but decided against it.
Dylan shrugged. “Fine. As you wish,” he relented, sagging defeatedly in his chair.
“Look. If you don't want to go back at least get a hotel room or somewhere to stay. W-we'll keep you updated.”
“Yeah. Ok,” Dylan replied lifelessly. “D-do you want me to get a room for you too? I doubt Frank and Catherine will leave the hospital.”
Kelsey sighed. “Maybe I'll just stay in the waiting room. I don't want to leave either but ever since Sandra and Catherine found out they're sisters, I feel kind of left out.”
“You gotta understand this is hard for both of them. I don't think they mean to leave you out. Sandra is your best friend.”
“You mean was,” Kelsey mumbled dejectedly.
“What do you mean by using past tense?” Dylan asked.
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Oh nothing...it's just that now that Sandra has found her sister, I'll be left in the shadows watching them do everything we used to do together. No problem, no problem at all,” she answered sarcastically.
“Hey. You don't need to be jealous. Sandra would never reject you. You know that,” Dylan replied. Kelsey only scowled and Dylan sighed. “To be honest, I've been feeling a bit left out myself.”
“I know,” Kelsey admitted. “Dad and Mark seem really close. Bet it was shocking. He pretty much took over...” she cleared her throat, realizing she was talking bad about her father. “...unintentionally of course.”
Dylan sighed again. “I guess I rather liked being Mark's father figure.”
“You never know how good you've got something until it's gone,” Kelsey responded glumly.
“Yeah,” Dylan nodded. “I guess I feel betrayed.”
“It really wasn't his fault though, he means nothing by it.”
“I'm serious! I've been there for Mark for all those years and this is how he pays me back?”
Kelsey shook her head. “What a mess. What if we just left?” she suggested, though she didn't really mean it.
“It's not like anyone would miss us,” Dylan huffed.
“My dad would. I just want to go home. Back to Germany.”
“He wouldn't miss us!” Dylan countered, irritated. “He's too busy with his BFF, Mark!”
Kelsey could tell that all the exhaustion and stress and alcohol was really starting to get to Dylan. “He would miss both of us. As would Mark. Let's just get some sleep and we can talk about it tomorrow,” she suggested.
Dylan wasn't quite drunk enough to argue. “Yeah, ok, fine,” he agreed. “Guess you're right. Let's get out of here.”
Back in the hospital, Frank continued his silent vigil over Mark who lay as still as death. Suddenly, his body seized up and the heart monitor began blaring a loud alarm. A grunt of pain escaped the pilot's lips. Frank grabbed the call button and pressed it frantically. “Someone get in here now!” he yelled. “Mark? Mark it's ok. Stay calm for me.”
Verna rushed in a minute later and took a quick look at Mark. “Oh no you don't Mark. Anya!” she called. “Come in here quick. Code blue! Code blue!” she yelled as the pilot's heart rate plummeted. “Get the defibrillators! Now!” Verna snatched the device from Anya as the nurse ran in with them. “Come on Mark. Fight!” she whispered as she charged the paddles and placed them on Mark's chest. “Clear!”
Mark's body jolted with the shock and then went limp again. His heart was beating haltingly. Frank was nearly in a panic. “Mark! Please!” he begged.
Charging the paddles again, Verna placed them back on Mark's chest. “Clear!” she yelled, delivering a second shock. To their relief, Mark's heart rate settled back into a slow, weak rhythm which wasn't good, but better than it was.
“This really isn't looking promising,” Anya sighed.
“I know,” Verna agreed sympathetically. “Please go fetch Dr. Whittaker.”
The door opened just then and Dr. Whittaker walked in, holding his clipboard. His white lab coat blended perfectly with the spotless walls. He was wearing a smile but it faded as he saw the defibrillators in Verna's hands. “What seems to be the trouble?” he asked needlessly.
“H-he coded sir,” Verna answered, handing him her stethoscope.
“Not good,” Dr. Whittaker mumbled as he took the device and listened to Mark's heart. The doctor shook his head worriedly. “His heart rate is just so weak.”
“Isn't there something we can do?” Verna asked hopefully.
Dr. Whittaker sighed. “We could give him a stimulant but I don't know how much good that will do.”
Verna pulled him aside. “Sir we need to do whatever we can to help these people. I feel really bad for them.”
“Of course,” Dr. Whittaker nodded. “I'm not the type of person who just stands by and lets someone die. Now please get the stimulant.”
Catherine stood up, carefully checking to make sure Sandra wasn't asleep. She hadn't moved in hours and her eyes were closed. “Sandra?” Catherine whispered. When her sister didn't answer, she took that to mean she was in a deep slumber and tiptoed out of the room to find something to fill her empty belly. Heading down to the lobby, Catherine came across Kelsey who was sitting alone in the waiting room. She looked like she was dozing off. “Why Kelsey!” Catherine exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where is your dad and Dylan?”
Kelsey jumped. “Oh! You startled me. I didn't want to go to the hotel room Dylan got us. Dylan is there now and I believe Dad is still with Mark,” she explained.
“Well would you like to scrounge something to eat with me?” Catherine asked. “I'm hungry and it's been ages since we've had something to eat. Sandra's asleep right now but we've got to be quick.”
Surprisingly to Catherine, Kelsey looked rather uncomfortable at her offer. “Uh...sure,” Kelsey agreed slowly, standing up to join her. After a quick inspection of the hospital, all they found was a vending machine for drinks. Kelsey purchased a water and Catherine decided on a soft drink instead. Figuring she had been gone long enough, Catherine gave up her search for a snack and she and Kelsey headed back to Sandra's room.
They found her in a panic. Her eyes were wide with fright and sweat was pouring down her pale face. The heart monitor was mapping out her racing heart. Catherine rushed over. “Sandra?! Sandra I'm right here. It's alright.” she took her sister's hand into her own. “It's alright now.”
“S-sorry...” Sandra gasped, trying to calm down. “J-just got sc-scared.”
“It's ok. I should have let you know. I was trying to find something to eat but there's nothing here. I'll just order something,” she smiled, patting Sandra's hand. “Hey, here's Kelsey. You remember her.”
Kelsey forced a smile. “Hey Sandra. You feeling alright?” she asked, concerned.
Sandra's eyes darted nervously to Catherine, then back to Kelsey. She nodded. “Yeah. Hi.”
Catherine pulled out her phone. “Here, let me call in something for us to eat.”
Frank sat hunched over in his chair, head buried in his hands. He was beyond exhausted but he forced himself to remain awake. Mark lay quiet in the hospital bed, his vitals remaining low. Low enough to scare him. Verna came in a few minutes later to check on the pilot. She did so quickly and looked sadly over at Frank. “I'm so sorry that had to happen,” she sighed, referring to Mark's code.
Shuddering, Frank nodded. “Yeah. Me too,” he mumbled.
Verna walked over and put a gentle hand on Frank's shoulder. “Hey, you doing ok?”
Frank hesitated. “Physically I'm fine. Mentally...that's a different story,” he finally admitted.
“Do you want to talk?” Verna offered. “That's what I'm here for.”
“Talk about what?” Frank asked, slightly confused.
“Like what you're going through. How you're handling this. I'm here to help.” She gave him an encouraging smile.
“Well...” Frank sighed. “Right now I'm just trying to be strong for him. Later I'll probably crash. But he needs me here to be with him. So I won't leave.”
Verna sat in the adjacent chair. “Don't worry Frank. You don't have to be strong all the time. It's perfectly normal to be scared and confused in times like these,” she assured him.
“Oh believe me, I'm scared. But I can't let Mark down.”
“Frank. You're not letting him down.”
“Correct. And I'm not going to start now. I'll be strong until this ends,” Frank insisted.
“Well, we'll keep a close eye on him tonight,” Verna promised. “In the meantime, I need to get Mark his supper. Do you want anything? You need to keep your strength up.”
Frank shrugged. “The only thing that sounds good is chicken and rice soup.”
“Ok. I'll be right back,” Verna smiled gently as she stood and slipped quietly out of the room.
Chapter 9
Sandra squirmed on the bed. “M-my head is killing me,” she moaned.
“Here, I'll get a nurse,” Catherine told her as she pressed the call button. “And Kelsey, dinner will be here soon. Hope you like Chinese.”
Anya the nurse soon hurried in. “Yes?” she asked in her thick Russian accent.
“Sandra's head hurts. She probably needs some more painkillers, Kelsey explained.”
“It is about time. I'll get them and be right back,” the nurse smiled as she left.
Catherine held Sandra's hand. “I'm going to go visit Mark a little later, ok?”
Sandra tensed a bit but nodded slightly. “S-sure. Go n-now if you want,” she offered as Anya returned and injected the painkiller into Sandra's IV, and left.
“It's ok. I'll go in a bit. Wouldn't want Kelsey to eat my dinner,” Catherine smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
Kelsey rolled her eyes, not amused. “Like I would do that.” she sounded rather annoyed.
The girls' dinner arrived a few minutes later. Kelsey took hers and tried to hand Catherine a ten dollar bill. “Thanks for getting this.”
Catherine smiled and handed the money back. “We all need to keep our strength up for Mark and Sandra.”
“Are you sure you don't want it?” Kelsey questioned. “I'd hate to impose.”
“Of course. Now I'm going to see Mark for a bit. I'll be back in a little while.”
Frank watched Mark, trying not to think about how dead he looked, lying so pale and still in the bed. He reached out and lay his hand on top of his friend's. “Oh Mark. Hang in there. Please just hang in there,” he begged. To his great astonishment, the pilot's fingers twitched slightly.
“Mark?!” Frank called, his tired body feeling a surge of hope. “You're still fighting right? Come on. I know that British spunk of yours won't let you down. You have too much to live for.”
Verna returned just then and handed Frank a bowl of soup. She was also carrying a syringe. “There you go Frank, it's nice and warm. You look happier...” she noted. “Something happen?”
“I started talking to him after you left. He moved his fingers!”
Verna walked over to Mark, smiling as she brushed his curly hair back. “Still with us Mark?” she asked softly before injecting the contents of the syringe into the pilot's feeding tube. She took his temperature. “Hmm. Still has a fever but I'm not surprised.”
“Is it any lower?” Frank asked anxiously.
“No, but it's no worse. I wish he would open his eyes or something.” Verna finished with Mark and lay a hand on Frank's shoulder. “We're keeping a close eye on him Frank. We have plenty of staff on hand and the coding station prepped and ready. We're not letting go of him easily,” she promised.
Catherine quietly tapped on the door. “May I come in?” she asked.
Verna hesitated. “Well normally I'm only allowed to let in one at a time but since you guys are my favorite I'll make an exception. Not for too long though, I don't want to stress him out. I'll be back in a bit,” she added before leaving.
Nodding, Catherine sat in the chair next to Frank, her eyes scanning Mark worriedly. She shuddered at his sickly appearance. “How's he doing?” she asked Frank softly.
Frank sighed. “Not too great. He coded again. Moved his fingers a little while ago though. Other than that I'm afraid we're not making much headway.”
“I figured. Goodness he looks worse than before,” Catherine replied, trying to let her tears spill over. “I-I should have been here when he coded. He c-could have died!”
“It's ok Catherine. Sandra needed you. Don't feel guilty.”
Catherine took a deep, shaky breath. “I feel so lost,” she admitted.
“Me too,” Frank agreed. “But the important thing now is that we are here for him no matter what.”
Mark suddenly tensed up before his body began to seize. His arms and legs twitched wildly and Frank pressed the call button over and over. “Catherine get someone in here now!” he yelled, stumbling to Mark's side as monitors began to go off, filling the room with noise. “Mark please buddy! You're going to be ok.”
Catherine was nearly frozen in fear but Frank's yell roused her. She raced to the door, nearly running into Verna who was just coming in. She took one look and yelled for Dr. Whitaker before rushing over, yanking off the sheets and trying to hold Mark's flailing body down. Catherine buried her face in Frank's shoulder, unable to watch.
“Come on Mark. Please be ok!” Frank begged as Dr. Whitaker ran in. “Get him on another fever reducer and muscle relaxers!” he ordered, taking over holding Mark down.
“Sir I can't tell if he's trying to fight the breathing tube or not,” Verna replied as she did as the doctor asked. The pilot's eyes suddenly opened, cloudy and fever glazed.
“If he doesn't calm down in the next fifteen seconds, I want him put in restraints,” Dr. Whitaker added.
Verna reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Wait,” she said softly as Mark's body relaxed a bit. “This might be goodbye.”
Mark's eyes drifted lazily over to the direction of Frank's voice. Frank took his hand. “Mark? It's ok. I'm right here,” he assured him, his voice husky with unshed tears. Catherine watched with a wide-eyed, frightened look.
To their surprise, Mark gave a short nod as Frank finished talking. “Mark please!” Tears began to roll down Frank's cheeks. “Please buddy you've got to fight!” Mark gave another nod and his eyes closed.
Frank sank weakly into his chair. “I-I can't keep doing this.”
Verna was silent as she waited tensely to see if Mark's heart would stop. She looked at Dr. Whitaker anxiously as he pressed a stethoscope to Mark's chest and listened to his heartbeat. “It's steady,” he announced.
“Oh thank God,” Catherine breathed, her body relaxing in relief.
“Where's Dylan?” Frank asked. “He needs to know.”
“At the hotel. Kelsey said she found him at the pub.”
Frank stiffened. “He what?!”
“H-he and Kelsey are jealous I think. They've been acting so weird lately,” Catherine sighed.
A look of sudden realization and understanding spread across Frank's face. “Oh. Well that explains it. I have noticed a change in their personality towards certain people, including me.” He rubbed his aching temples, trying to fight off the waves of exhaustion crashing over his body.
“I can't handle this. I just can't. I need to get back to Sandra. She doesn't do well without me. Maybe you should give Dylan a call,” Catherine suggested.
Frank nodded. “Perhaps I will. You come back anytime.” He waited for Catherine to leave before pulling out his cell phone and dialing Dylan's number.
“What do you want?” Dylan answered the phone a minute later.
Swallowing hard, Frank prayed for wisdom. “I just want to apologize.”
“Apologize for what?”
“I-I feel like I'm causing trouble. Mark was your friend for years. You were everything to him until I showed up and ruined everything.” Frank's voice was husky.
Dylan's reply was harsh. “Doesn't matter now does it? Mark made his choice.”
Frank sighed. “Look. I need to make it up to you. As soon as Mark recovers a bit, I-I'll leave. And I won't come back. You can go back to the way it once was, the way it was meant to be.”
“There isn't going to be any of that!” Dylan snapped. “You heard what the doctors said!”
“Dylan he's still fighting! He told me himself!”
“I can't do this. I can't deal with this. I'm going home tomorrow.”
“You can't do that! You'll fail him Dylan! You can't leave!”
“I-I have to Frank.” Dylan hung up without another word, hearing his voice crack with tears.
Verna came in just then and began to change the IV bags before checking on the tubes in Mark's chest and stomach. She looked up when Frank slammed his phone down onto the chair, looking very upset. “Is everything alright?” she asked worriedly.
Frank shook his head and put a finger to his lips, gesturing to Mark who seemed to be asleep. Verna came over and sat beside him. “What's wrong?” she whispered.
“We've lost one of the team,” Frank mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Verna pressed.
“Dylan's leaving. And it's all my fault.” Frank buried his head in his hands.
Verna put a hand on Frank's shoulder. “How is it your fault?” she asked gently.
Frank sighed. “It's a long story. I was friends with Mark years ago. W-we lost contact and Dylan became the friend I used to be to him. We were reunited not too long ago and I-I guess I just took over the role I used to have.”
“Frank you didn't do anything wrong. It sounds like Dylan is just jealous.”
“But that's just it! He won't come over to see Mark and he said he's going home tomorrow.”
“You know, if he can't get over himself long enough to visit then he wasn't a very good friend to begin with.” Verna paused, hesitating. “There's something I should tell you.”
“What is it?” Frank asked miserably.
“Well I wasn't supposed to tell you this since Dr. Whitaker didn't think he'd make it through the night, but when the explosion went off, he suffered from flail chest. Part of his chest broke away from the rest, near his arm...”
Frank's face drained of color. “A-and you're telling me this because...”
“There may be some paralysis of his left arm. He may never be able to use it again.”
All attempts at maintaining Frank's composure crumbled to dust. Frank buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with uncontrolable sobs. Verna swallowed hard, realizing she should have picked a better time to tell him. “Shh-shh it's ok. I said maybe. The surgeons may have caught it in time or it may just be temporary. We won't know until he wakes up. Shhh. It's ok Frank. It's alright,” she tried to soothe him.
“N-no no!” Frank sobbed. “I-I can't take this any more! Dylan's gone, Kelsey's upset, Mark is dying, Sandra is injured and there is nothing I can do! I-I can't take this any longer. I feel like I'm about to go crazy or something. I can't do this by myself!”
“Hey hey, it's alright. I'm here and I'm going to do everything I can for Mark, ok? I think you need some sleep Frank. You're exhausted. He's good for now and everything is quiet. Go get some sleep. Maybe you need to talk to Dylan face to face before he leaves. And Kelsey sounds like she could use a good talking to as well. Should I go tell his sister?”
Frank made a major effort to get himself under control again. “I-I can't leave him. And Kelsey has to resolve this issue with Catherine herself. I don't think anything I say will do any good right now. And no, please don't tell her. I don't think she could handle any more bad news.”
“Well at least maybe step out and get some fresh air. You need a break. Maybe go talk to Dylan. I'll keep a close eye on him,” Verna promised. “He's in excellent hands.”
Nodding, Frank got to his feet. “I think I will take a walk. I need to clear my head. See you soon,” he said as he headed out the door. The cold night air was a refreshing relief from the stuffy hospital air. Taking several deep breaths, Frank felt calmer as his head cleared a bit. Not exactly paying attention to where he was going, the elderly man arrived a few minutes later at a frozen lake. There was a figure standing on the edge of the dock who looked rather familiar. Cautiously walking over, Frank cleared his throat and the man turned around. Dylan.
“What are you doing here?” Dylan asked coldly. His hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets as he had no gloves to keep them warm. Each exhale sent a cloud of steam into the crisp air.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Frank answered quietly, bowing his head as he shifted his weight to his good knee. “Honestly I'm trying to figure out how to make things right.”
Dylan frowned. “There is nothing to make right. Mark made his choice.”
“Wait a minute. Don't go bringing him into this. This issue is between you and me,” Frank replied.
“Mark's a big boy,” retorted Dylan, “he can make his own decisions and he chose to backstab me.”
“And how exactly did he do that?” Frank countered.
“He abandoned me! I don't bring him a stitch of comfort now. When he needs something, he asks for you. Not me,” he added with contempt.
“You just proved my point,” Frank answered gently. “This is my fault. I never should have told you what happened back in that godforsaken desert. I should have just left things as they were. But, I must admit, you didn't give him much of a chance to want you anyway. You always asked me to.”
“Well I didn't have much of a choice did I?” Dylan spat. “I couldn't just let him go into cardiac arrest. I had to appease him somehow!”
“I'm not just talking about that Dylan! There have been numerous times!” Frank paused and took a shaky breath. “I-I can't be much help to him now either. I'm completely helpless to do anything about it, now that he's p-paralyzed...” Frank's voice trailed off as he ran his hands through his graying hair.
Dylan gasped. “W-wait. What?! M-Mark can't be paralyzed! H-he can't fly if he's paralyzed!” The younger man's demeanor had completely changed. He now looked pale and desperate.
Frank stared hard at his shoes. “Y-yeah the doc said his left arm m-may be paralyzed. Dylan if that's the case I need some help and support here. Mark needs you just as much as he needs me whether he realizes it or not. I can't be with him every minute and I need someone I can depend on.”
Dylan wasn't listening anymore. “H-his left? That's his dominant arm. H-he'll never be able to fly again.” he sat down helplessly on a nearby bench, holding his head in his hands. “Why couldn't it be me?! I can live without flying but Mark can't!”
Sitting down beside him, Frank regarded Dylan quietly for a moment before speaking. “We-we've got to be there for him no matter what. That's what friends are for. Please just let's put this conversation behind us and more on as friends willing to do anything we can for Mark. It's his life on the line Dylan. We both know that. Fighting isn't helping anything.”
Ever so slowly, Dylan nodded. “A-alright. I'm...sorry,” he mumbled.
“And I as well,” Frank affirmed, shivering in his coat. “Let's go see our friend, shall we?”
I'd...I'd like that very much,” Dylan agreed, standing up.
Frank managed a slight smile. “I'm guessing you'll want the details of the past few hours?” he guessed as the two began to make their way back towards the hospital in the frosty night air.
Chapter 10:
Kelsey sat in Sandra's silent room, watching Catherine jealously. Sandra's sister was sitting beside the bed, holding her hand. She hadn't moved in hours and neither had Catherine. It was infuriating to Kelsey who had always been the one Sandra relied on, always been her shoulder to cry on and the two had hardly spent a day apart since they had met so many years ago. Kelsey heaved a long, drawn out sigh as she impatiently tapped her foot rhythmically on the hard floor, not loud enough to draw attention, but enough to satisfy her.
The movement caught Catherine's eye and she straightened in her seat a bit. “Kelsey are you ok?” she asked kindly. “You've been a bit...cranky lately. Do you need to rest?”
“I can leave if I'm bothering you,” Kelsey replied in a slightly cold tone.
“No, I'd rather you just tell me what's wrong.”
“You.” The words were out before Kelsey realized she had said them.
Catherine seemed taken aback. “Wh-what?” she stammered.
“It-it's just, Sandra has been my best friend forever and now you're here taking over. I feel like you two have left me in your shadow.” Kelsey was too upset now to realize how selfish she sounded.
“Ok...” Catherine replied slowly. “I don't quite get your point.”
“Look. Ever since I met Sandra, we've always been there for each other and done everything together. Everything. She's always been there for me, and I've always been there for her. We're practically sisters and I don't want you taking the spot she holds for me in her heart.”
Catherine was a bit upset herself now and she could feel herself getting angry. “You're basing this all on assumption now.”
Kelsey finally realized what she was saying. “I-I'm sorry. I know I'm being difficult and I apologize. I'm just...extremely loyal to my friends and I just don't want anything getting away of our friendship. I mean no disrespect to you.”
“I've lost everything Kelsey!” Catherine answered quickly, roused and not quite ready to apologize. “My real parents, my adopted parents and now possibly my brother. Don't ask me to lose my sister too.”
Cheeks burning with shame, Kelsey quickly stood up. “I wasn't asking you to do such a thing. I-oh never mind, I feel like such an idiot.” gathering the last remains of her pride, Kelsey mumbled a hasty goodnight and turned to leave.
“Kelsey wait,” Catherine called. “I-I'm sorry. I'm not myself tonight. I'm exhausted and all this stress...I know it's no excuse but I really am sorry. I'm not trying to take over and if you want to sit with her you can. I shouldn't have barged in like I did...I'm kinda like you, very protective of the people I love.”
Relaxing somewhat, Kelsey sat back down and shrugged. “Thank you. I just needed to hear that I guess, set my mind at ease. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have overreacted like I did. Same excuse as you,” she grinned weakly.
“A-alright then. Glad we can move on as friends,” Catherine smiled back.
Frank and Dylan quietly slipped into Mark’s room. At the sight of the unconscious pilot, Dylan’s breath caught in his throat. Almost hesitantly, he walked over, taking Mark’s hand into his own, squeezing it reassuringly. “I-I’m here buddy,” he assured his friend in a voice filled with emotion. “I’m here now and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there before. But I’m here and I won’t leave you again,” he promised.
Frank smiled his satisfaction as he watched over Dylan’s shoulder. “That’s right Mark. You’ve got a whole team rooting for you.”
To both their surprise, Mark’s body suddenly twitched and he took a half-breath against the ventilator, his body tensing up at the movement. “H-holy cow!” Frank exclaimed, completely surprised. “Look what you did, Dylan!”
Just then, Verna rushed in. “My pager beeped for him. What’s the matter?” She asked, slightly out of breath, having been running from the desk down the hall.
“He just tried to take a breath on his own!” Dylan answered, his eyes never leaving Mark. The pilot tried again to take a breath and his heart race increased dramatically. Verna paged Doctor Whittaker, who arrived just moments later.
“What’s going on?” He asked in his thick Russian accent.
“Sir, Mark is trying to breathe on his own,” Verna informed promptly.
Dr. Whittaker’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He did? I didn’t think he’d even have the strength to move.” Pulling his stethoscope from around his neck, the doctor listened to Mark’s heartbeat. The room was deathly silent until he straightened. “Heartbeat is much stronger and steadier. If he keeps this up, he may have a chance. But I don’t want to push our luck. Verna, please sedate him so he can rest. I don’t want any strain on him whatsoever,” he directed.
Verna nodded compliantly. “Exactly what I was thinking, sir.” She turned to Dylan and Frank. “You two should probably get some rest. It’s really late and everything seems to be settling here.”
“Yeah Frank, Let’s get Kelsey and Catherine and head out. I’ve got hotel rooms for us,” Dylan added.
Frank hesitated. “I-I don’t know…I really don’t want to leave him…”
Verna gave them a reassuring smile as she carefully injected the sedative into Mark’s IV line. “It’s alright. You two need your sleep desperately. I’ll keep you updated. But Mark knows everything is alright now.”
Still reluctant, Frank nodded. “I doubt Catherine will want to leave Sandra, but it won’t hurt to ask. I’ll go warm up the car if you’d like to get them, Dylan,” he offered.
“Sounds good,” agreed Dylan as he headed to Sandra’s room. Kelsey was sitting in the chair on her phone, and Catherine was slumped over in her chair asleep, next to Sandra’s bed, her hand still holding the pale one of her sister’s. “Hey Kelsey, Frank and I were just going to the hotel and wanted to know if you’d like to join us. Mark seems to be making some progress and Verna insisted we catch up on some sleep. Are you game?”
It didn’t take Kelsey long to make up her mind. “Sure, that sounds good to me. These seats aren’t very comfortable for sleeping in…” she glanced at Catherine. “Didn’t seem to stop her though. She wouldn’t’ want to leave Sandra so I’ll just let her sleep. Hey, you mentioned my dad, I thought you two weren’t talking?” Kelsey stood up and followed Dylan out of Sandra’s room towards the car.
“We made up,” Dylan smiled. “What about you?”
“Same,” Kelsey grinned. Now let’s hurry up! It’s freezing out here!”
Quickening their paces, the two found the car and Frank in the passenger seat, rubbing his hands together vigorously. “Hey!” He greeted them. “Mind driving, Dylan? This knee of mine isn’t feeling too great and this cold weather isn’t helping.”
“Of course,” Dylan nodded, getting into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot. Once they checked into the hotel and found their rooms, all three crashed, falling asleep within mere minutes.
The next morning, Frank woke up early, despite the fact that they had been through such an exhausting day. Quietly knocking on Kelsey’s door, he found her already awake too. She let him into her room and together they watched the sunrise until Dylan came and joined them.
“How did you all sleep?” Dylan asked, trying to conceal a huge yawn.
“The bed was kinda hard, but I was out like a light,” Kelsey answered. “What about you? And boy! Would you look at this view!” she gestured to the magnificent sunrise, the sky filled with purple, yellow, orange and red. “It’s magnificent!”
“Eh, I’ve slept better,” he admitted. “But yes, it is beautiful. Wish Mark could see it. Shall we head to the hospital?”
Frank nodded his agreement at Dylan’s suggestion as Kelsey took out her phone and snapped a photo of the sunrise. “There! Now he can see it when he wakes up,” she smiled. “Let’s go.”
The three of them piled into the car and began the short drive to the hospital. “Are you going to see Sandra or Mark first, Kelsey?” Dylan asked as he pulled into a parking space.
“Probably Mark since I never got around to seeing him yesterday,” Kelsey answered.
“I hope he’s alright,” Frank mused worriedly, glancing at his phone. “I haven’t heard anything. Hopefully that’s a good thing…” his voice trailed off.
When they arrived at Mark’s room, they found Verna bending over him, listening to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope. Mark’s eyes were closed in slumber. Hearing movement, Verna straightened and greeted them with a welcoming smile. “Good morning!”
“How is he?” Frank asked, not returning the nurse’s attempt to be friendly. He stepped over to Mark and looked the pilot over anxiously.
“Looking a little better today,” Verna answered. “He got another breath in after you guys left. Who is this?” she asked, gesturing to Kelsey who gave her a smile.
“I’m Kelsey Meirs,” the young doc greeted, shaking Verna’s hand. “Frank is my dad. I’ve been Mark’s doctor since way back,” she added.
Just then, Mark seemed to arouse, taking several breaths against the ventilator as he fought the machine. He was strong enough to cause the machine to register the commotion, and it beeped loudly. Verna paged Doctor Whittaker, and he hurried in, moments later.
“What’s going on?” He asked, looking over Mark’s straining body.
“Sir, he keeps fighting the ventilator. I don’t know about you, but I’d suggest we take him off of it,” replied Verna. The others gave her a hopeful expression.
Doctor Whittaker hesitated visibly. “He’s been on it less than twenty four hours, and not long ago I was telling you he wouldn’t likely make it through the night.” Pausing, the doctor examined Mark in silence before turning back to the others. “He does seem much stronger though, and the longer he’s on the ventilator, the more dependant he becomes. I’ll take him off of it, but I want him on an oxygen mask. And if he gets tired or isn’t strong enough, I’m putting him back on the vent,” he decided.
As if he had been listening the whole time, Mark’s eyes slowly flickered open, startling everyone. Lazily he looked around the room, his eyes settling on Frank who took his hand and squeezed it gently in reassurance.
Stepping over to Mark’s side, Dr. Whittaker smiled gently. “Ok pal, you’re doing so great that I’m going to take this tube out of your throat. How’s that sound?”
Mark gave a small nod of understanding, as Verna walked over with the oxygen mask and an ambu bag. “All ready sir,” she announced.
“Great. Alright Mark, I need you to give me a big cough.” As Mark did, Dr. Whittaker eased the ventilator tube out of his throat and Verna pressed the mask to his face, turning on the oxygen. “Excellent. Deep, slow breaths, Mark. You need to stay calm. Verna, be ready with that ambu bag in case he gets too tired. That’s it Mark, just relax.”
Taking deep breaths as instructed, Mark suddenly looked down at his arm, seeming to be concentrating extremely hard. His breathing sped up as he looked at Dr. Whittaker, panic beginning to appear on his face. Frank swallowed hard.
“Mark? Listen to me. I need you to stay calm, alright?” Dr. Whittaker’s voice reminded him, a bit more strongly this time.
“M-my arm…wh-why can’t I m-move m-my a-arm?!” Mark rasped hoarsely before exploding into violent coughing.
“Easy Mark. You had a little a-accident…” Frank stammered.
“Now listen, it’s not necessarily permanent, but-“ Doctor Whittaker began, only to be interrupted by the panicking pilot.
“Wh-why can’t I m-move my a-arm?! Wh-why can’t I f-feel a-anything? Why c-can’t I move it?!” His heart was racing now, and the heart monitor was mapping out an ever increasing pace.
Frank’s voice was filled with pity. He tried to comfort his friend, but knew it wouldn’t do much good, if any. “Y-your injuries were pretty severe M-Mark. But we’re going to d-do everything we can to get it mobile again.”
“No! No! I can’t f-fly! N-no! It c-can’t be!” Mark managed to push himself up on his good arm as he slipped into a full blown panic attack. “N-no! I can’t f-fly if it’s p-paralyzed! P-please n-no!” he sobbed, trying to get up.
“Verna! Get him on a sedative now!” Dr. Whittaker ordered.
“
Mark, listen to me!” Frank urged, trying to calm him down. “It’s going to be ok. You have to stay calm for me!” He begged as Verna ran out to get the sedative.
“N-no! I c-can’t fly. It’s m-my dominant a-arm. Why?!” Mark yelled, choking now, as coughs racked his body.
“Panicking isn’t going to help anything, Mark! I know you’re shocked and frightened. Just listen to me. They caught it early so there’s a good chance you’ll regain function in it,” Frank replied, trying to get Mark to lay back down.
Verna returned just then, and injected the heavy dose of sedative into Mark’s IV. It began to take affect in mere seconds and Frank eased him back as the pilot’s body began to relax. “N-no. N-no pl-please…I h-have t-to…” Mark’s eyes were already slipping shut though he tried to fight the overwhelming drug.
“Shhhhh,” Frank soothed. “Just relax and let the medicine do its thing. You’ll be alright.”
Without another word, Mark drifted off into unconsciousness.
Verna grit her teeth. “That really wasn’t good for a heart that’s already coded twice in such a short time.”
Frank shook his head. “He’ll pull through. He has to.”
“Verna, he’s torn some of his stitches,” Dr. Whittaker announced. “Let’s fix those now.”
Nodding, Verna gathered the supplies and got to work. “Honestly, I’m a little worried about him,” she admitted.
Frank hesitated. “He has PTSD. I’m sure that’s not helping.”
“I agree. Panic attacks are not good for a patient in his condition.”
Doctor Whittaker nodded his agreement. “I want him kept on a sedative for now.”
“I agree,” Verna replied. “But at some point, therapy is going to have to be arranged for him. His life is going to be drastically changed.”
“I’ve never seen him that scared before…” Dylan mumbled from his chair, still dazed.
Frank buried his head in his hands. “I have. Back when we were captured,” he admitted shakily. “Never thought I’d have to live through it again.”
“B-but he looked so defeated and helpless. Isn’t there anything at all you can do for him? What if he never regains use of that arm?!”
Verna sighed heavily. “Sir we are trying everything but there is only so much we can do. Therapy will help, yes, but the outcome isn’t certain. It is the best way to go though. And have you ever considered hippotherapy for his PTSD? There’s lots of research out there, it could be good for him.”
Dylan’s mind was still on Mark’s arm. “He has a therapy dog that’s been very good for him. It’s just….that’s his dominate arm. He’s going to have to relearn how to do everything. And he’ll never be able to fly again!”
“Never say never,” Dr. Whittaker interjected. “I’ve seem miracles before, Mark is alive today because of them. You’ve just got to be strong for him. You’ve got to make him believe that he can regain some if not all of his previous function in that arm. It just might work.”
Dylan raked his hand through his hair, overwhelmed. “I need some air. I’m going to check on Sandra. Oh, Frank…” the co-pilot hesitated.
“Does Catherine know about Mark’s paralysis?” he nearly stumbled over the word.
Frank shook his head. “No. I was hoping we wouldn’t be faced with such a problem but now we have to tell her,” he sighed.
“I’ll go with Dylan, you can have some time with Mark,” Kelsey spoke up, having been silent up until this point. “Keep us updated. We’ll bring you some lunch later.”
As the others left the room, Verna finished up with Mark and pat Frank’s shoulder kindly. “I’ll leave you alone for awhile. Call me if you need anything,” she reminded gently as she too left the little hospital room.
Despite their earlier apprehension, Catherine took the news better than they thought she would. She still seemed dazed and upset, but the reassurance that it wasn’t for sure that it was permanent seemed to help.
Frank was dozing by Mark’s side a couple of hours later, when the pilot startled him by twitching a little, his eyes fluttering open. Frank hesitated, his finger on the call button, ready to push it if needed.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mark mumbled flatly. “I’d really rather not have to go through withdraw again.”
“They only did it because you were on the verge of a panic attack,” Frank reminded him gently.
Mark ignored him, pulling off the oxygen mask with his good hand, letting it hang around his neck. He looked at his useless extremity and began to focus very hard on trying to flex his hand. His heart rate began to speed up, mapping out his growing frustration and desperation.
“Mark stop,” Frank urged. “Please. Focus on something else for awhile. That can come later.”
“There is nothing else!” Mark huffed. “This is all that matters now. This is the difference between my life and nothing!” he snapped frustrated, his breathing already becoming labored.
Frank gently replaced the mask over Mark’s face. “Listen Mark. I want you to rest. Your arm can wait.”
“No!” Mark cried. “I’m going to move this arm! I-I don’t need to sleep. But I have to be ok. And this is not ok.” The pilot was becoming more and more agitated.
“Mark please just listen to me for once! You have to calm down or they’re going to put you under again!” Frank tried to reason with him.
Sadly, Mark wasn’t ready to listen to reason. “How can you even begin to understand?! You have both your arms. I-I have t-to f-fix this. I c-can’t……can’t…” his voice trailed off into wheezing as breathing became difficult. Tears ran down the pilot’s face as he gave up, defeated.
“Easy Mark. Just take it easy,” Frank soothed, feeling awful for his friend. “There’s enough time for that later. Just rest for now. I’m right here and you’re perfectly safe.”
“J-just leave me alone!” Mark huffed, trying to roll onto his side. Tubes and wires prevented his doing so and he let out a frustrated yell.
Frank was silent a moment, thinking. He began to recite one of the many Bible passages he had memorized, ones he used to murmur to the pilot when they were rescued, his voice calm and soothing. Mark’s eyes eventually slipped shut, as he was completely exhausted from all his efforts. Frank continued talking to him, his words both in English and German.
Verna came in a few minutes later. “Hey, how is he doing?” she asked softly, eying Mark.
“He woke up but be quiet, I think he’s gone back to sleep,” Frank informed.
“Oh well I’ve just come to look him over,” answered Verna, examining Mark very quickly. Her expression grew concerned.
Frank’s face paled as he stiffened. “What is it Verna? What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“His stats look terrible right now! How long have they been like this?”
“Not too long. He was rather upset about his arm. But if he’s asleep, they should settle shortly,” Frank guessed.
“No, like they are getting bad as we speak. I’m going to bump up his oxygen and try to get some fluids into him.”
“Please do,” Frank urged, seemingly on edge.
“Here, try to wake him up, his fever is higher too,” Verna mused. “I want him to drink some water, it might help to get his temperature down.”
Frank lay a hand on Mark’s shoulder, gently trying to rouse him. “Mark? Mark buddy, wake up. Can you open your eyes for me?”
“Huh..wha?” Mark mumbled, dragging his eyes open. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Thank you. Your fever is higher, and I wanted you to drink some water and I need a blood sample,” Verna said as she approached with a cup of water.
Mark managed to drink a few sips. Verna inserted the needle into Mark’s arm and began filling the vials with blood. Mark gasped and gripped his stomach.
“Easy Mark, easy. Verna it’s probably about time for some more painkillers,” Frank suggested.
“Let me finish here,” Verna answered, bumping Mark’s oxygen up yet again. Frank looked at her worriedly, then back to Mark. It wasn’t long before she finished. “Ok I’m going to send these to the lab. I’d like to get the doctor in here before we give him his pain meds. I want to check his chest and stomach to see how far this infection has deteriorated.” With that, she paged Doctor Whitaker.
He stepped into the room a few minutes later, clipboard in hand. “Is everything ok?”
“Sir, he’s deteriorating very quickly,” Verna said, stepping to the door and lowering her voice. “Low intake on oxygen and he’s in quite a lot of pain, I’m suspecting abdominal, although I’m not sure. Heart rate is elevated, fever has risen and blood pressure is not happy,” she reported.
Dr. Whittaker’s face darkened with worry. “I want an ultrasound stat.”
Mark groaned. “Wh-what’s the p-point? I’m u-useless anyway. N-no point in f-fixing it. N-not worth it,” he gasped weakly.
His words stung Frank. “Why would you say that?! It’s not true Mark!”
“U-useless now. Everything th-that made m-me special is g-gone. C-can’t even get dressed on my own anymore. P-Project C-Cobolt will reject m-me. I can’t fly anymore. I’m n-nothing now. I’m not worth it. L-look at me!” he gestured weakly to all the wires and tubes.
Frank shook his head. “Mark that isn’t true and you know it!”
“P-prove me otherwise,” Mark snapped bitterly.
“It’s not a hopeless case Mark,” Frank reminded, trying to keep calm himself.
“J-just leave me alone. I’m useless!” Mark repeated. “Agh!” he cried, gripping his stomach. He fell silent as he tried to take deep breaths.
Verna wheeled in the ultrasound machine. “Alright sir, here you are,” she announced to Doctor Whittaker.
He turned on the machine. “Alright Mark, I need you to be still for me ok?” he said firmly but gently as he smeared on the gel and began his examination.
Mark moaned. “C-can’t breathe…can’t br-breathe…” he gasped, trying to lie still.
“Hang in there Mark,” Frank encouraged, laying his hand over Mark’s for reassurance.
“Verna, bump up his oxygen again,” Dr. Whittaker instructed as his eyes narrowed, his gaze on the screen. “Oh goodness…” he mumbled under his breath.
“What’s wrong sir?” Verna asked, giving Mark even more oxygen.
“St-stop talking a-about me like I’m n-not here!” Mark cried desperately. “Agh!”
“Frank, Verna, can I talk to you outside a moment?” Dr. Whittaker asked quietly.
Verna followed them both out. “What’s wrong sir?” she asked, genuinely concerned. Frank was nearly shaking with fear.
“The antibiotics are doing nothing. His infection has spread, a lot. The only possible way to save him is to do emergency surgery. I’m so very sorry,” Whittaker sighed.
“What? No!” Frank gasped. “This can’t be happening!”
Verna shook her head sadly. “This is very risky. I don’t know how much more he can take, physically or mentally. It’s…almost as if he’s given up and quit fighting. He started to go downhill very quickly after he found out about his arm.”
“I understand that. But he’ll die if we don’t do something and do I quickly,” Whittaker explained calmly.
“I g-guess we don’t have any choice,” Frank sighed, sounding absolutely miserable.
“Do you want to tell him, or shall I?” Verna asked, looking between the two.
“Women have a way of breaking news more gently,” Dr. Whittaker hinted.
Verna sighed as she opened the door and led the others back into his room. “Mark, I’m very sorry, but the infection is spreading very rapidly. If we don’t operate now, you will die.”
Chapter 11
“No! No more!” Mark yelled. “Nobody else is going to cut me open. No! I’m not. No!” his words trailed off in a groan of agony. “N-no no-agh!” Monitors began to go off.
Frank stepped up to Mark’s bedside, looking him square in the eyes. There was an expression of grim determination on his face. “Listen Mark. I am your friend. And as such, it is my job to make sure that you are taken care of. I’m not going to stand back and watch you die, you mean way too much to me. You have to cooperate with me Mark. I’ll see to it that you do. Understand?” Frank was trying too hard to get his point across that he didn’t realize he sounded quite as harsh as he did.
“No. You’re all liars! Y-you promised me I-I was gonna be ok and I’m not! I don’t trust a-any of you!” Mark’s breathing was coming in harsh, raspy gasps and his heart rate was extremely high.
Verna ran out to get a sedative as Frank continued. “As long as you’re still alive, there’s hope. I’m not giving up on you and I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to keep my word. You know me better than that Mark. You’ve got a lot of people who care about you and you need to stick around.”
Just then, Verna returned with the sedative. She went to put it in Mark’s IV, but even in his sickened state, the pilot was too quick for her. “No!” he screamed, lashing out, knocking the vial from her hands. It shattered everywhere. Mark sobbed helplessly as he shrank away from everyone.
“Get another!” Whittaker mouthed to Verna and she slipped out to fetch it.
“Mark, you have to just calm down! Please. You’re just making things worse,” Frank begged.
“Yeah I’ve been told that before!” Mark wheezed. “Gee I wonder who said that. Oh yeah. My dad!” The room went horribly silent. “My dad told me all the time that I made everything worse! A-and you’ve turned into him.” His voice trembled as tears ran down the pilot’s cheeks.
Frank staggered back from the bed, completely devastated. “M-Mark…I-I didn’t mean…” his eyes filled with tears as he stopped talking, at a loss for words.
Verna returned. Whittaker turned to her. “I think we should just go ahead and take him down to the OR. It would be easier to just put him under with anesthetic rather than trying to sedate him. Especially with his past experiences and addiction.”
“Good, let’s get it done.” Verna nodded her approval. Dr. Whittaker wheeled Mark down to the OR. Verna took the opportunity to go over to
Frank who was just staring blankly after them. “Hey, I know you’re hurt, but what Mark is experiencing is normal. It’s scary to be so helpless and not be able to do the things you love. I’m certain he’s just lashing out because he feels trapped. But you and I both know he’s going to fight Dr. Whittaker with the anesthetic. He needs you.”
Frank groaned. “I don’t think he wants me Verna.”
“He does, Frank. He may not think so but he does. Now come on,” Verna urged.
Nodding reluctantly, Frank followed the nurse to the OR. They found Mark groaning and trying to turn his face away from the mask with the anesthetic. He looked over and saw Frank. “N-no…don’t let th-them…” he begged, trying desperately not to breathe in the fumes.
“Mark it’s got to be done. Please I’m begging you,” Frank pleaded as he took his friend’s limp hand in his own. Mark looked up at him, absolute terror in his eyes. “I know you’re scared. We all are. But I want…no, I need you to know that I’m right here for you. We all are. We’ll get through this. I promise.”
Finally giving up, Mark took a deep breath, breathing in the anesthetic. Frank was quick to praise him, continuing to offer encouragement. Mark was already getting drowsy but he gripped Frank’s hand for all he was worth, though it was weak at best.
“That’s right Mark, just relax,” Frank told him softly.
Mark’s eyes slipped shut as he surrendered completely to the drugs, his hand still loosely clasped around Frank’s. The elderly man’s eyes closed in utter relief.
Verna’s voice brought him back to the present. “You got him doc?” she asked, noting the change in Mark’s heart rate and breathing as the drugs pulled him completely under. “Frank, you can’t stay. I’ll walk you back to the Waiting Room.
Frank wanted to protest, but he knew it was true so he glumly followed her. Verna gave him a quick hug. “We’ll do everything in our power to fix this. I promise Frank. Keep up hope.” She gave him the most reassuring smile that she could muster and hurried back to where Dr. Whittaker and Mark were waiting.
“Keep a close eye on his stats,” Whittaker instructed. “Blood pressure and oxygen are not happy. This is going to be a risky surgery. I want the ambu bag and defibrillators close. You ready?” At Verna’s nod, he took a deep breath. “Hand me the iodine swab and a marker.”
Grabbing the items, Verna watched as Whittaker cleaned and carefully marked the area, asking for a scalpel soon after. She picked up the metal object, praying silently in her head as she offered it to him with her blue gloved hands. He nodded his thanks. “Here goes…”
Frank sat in the waiting room, dazed. Finally, he pulled out his phone, sending Dylan a quick text. “Mark is back in surgery.”
Dylan’s face drained of color as he opened the text and read it. “What?! What for?!” he quickly replied.
“Infection is very bad. Has spread a lot,” Frank answered, dreading every word he typed out.
“Where are you? Do you want me to come?” offered Dylan.
“Up to you, I think I’m going to sit in Mark’s room.”
“Let me re-phrase, do you need me to come? Are you ok?”
“Well, other than being completely devastated by our good friend just before surgery, I’m just peachy. You can come if you want, but I’ll get over it.”
“I’m coming.” Dylan turned to Kelsey as he stood up. “Frank said Mark is back in surgery, the infection has spread. I’ll be back later.” He gave her a worried smile and headed to Mark’s room where Frank was sitting, staring at the wall. “Hey, you sure you’re doing alright?” he asked kindly, trying to mask his own worry.
Frank looked up. “No. No I’m not ok,” he admitted.
“What happened?” Dylan asked, sitting beside the elderly character.
“I-I asked him to be still…didn’t think and told him that he was making everything worse. H-he accused me of being like his father. He d-doesn’t trust us anymore.” A look of utter exhaustion and hopelessness was etched on Frank’s face.
Dylan was silent for a moment. “I…don’t know what to say.”
“You and me both,” Frank mumbled miserably.
“You know how he gets. “He-he’s probably just scared. Mark likes to be independent and now he has to rely on everyone.”
“Yeah, but he really upset me. I-I honestly don’t know how much more I can take. I try to be there for him…but a person can only take so much.”
“Don’t take it too hard. You know he thinks the world of you. Imagine being in his shoes.”
“Well he thinks the world of you too. He’s going to need all the help he can get.”
Dylan sighed. “I know. I know. This is going to be hard for all of us.”
“You can say that again. Hey, how is Sandra?” Frank asked.
“She’s better, she was sleeping when I left,” Dylan answered. “Some good news there at least.”
Frank nodded. “Goodness knows we need more of that.”
“Blood pressure is dropping,” Verna announced.
“Thank you,” Whittaker mumbled, concentrating on his work. “Get him on more blood.”
Verna did as asked. “Sir his heart rate is dropping as well.”
“Keep an eye on it. Goodness he’s in such bad shape. Verna, I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
The OR fell silent for a few minutes. Monitors suddenly began to beep and blare warning sounds. “Sir! Heart rate is dropping dangerously!” Verna announced.
“Get the defibrillators!” Whittaker ordered. “Come on Mark. Don’t code now. You were doing so well. Come on buddy.” He tried to hurry his work along, but he couldn’t speed up much and still keep things safe.
Verna snatched up the defibrillators just as Mark’s heart flatlined. A single monotone blared out of the monitor, filling everyone’s hearts with dread. For an instant, time seemed to freeze.
“Shock him Verna! Shock him now!” Whittaker yelled, snapping everyone out of the trance.
There was an electric buzz sound as the paddles charged. Verna placed them on Mark’s chest. “Clear!” she cried before delivering the shock. There was a jolt of energy and Mark’s body reacted to the shock, tensing up before falling lifelessly back onto the operating table with no results.
“Again!” Whittaker commanded, injecting a syringe of epinephrine into Mark’s chest.
“Clear!” Verna called as she delivered a second shock, again with not even the slightest of positive results.
Doctor Whittaker shook his head in frustration. “Shock him again!” He gave the pilot more stimulant, hoping to bring his limp body back to life.
Verna charged the paddles again. The room was deathly silent other than the monitors. Once again, she placed them on Mark’s still chest and shocked him. Still nothing. The nurse looked at Whittaker in defeat, her heart sinking.
“Come on. Try again. We can’t give up yet!” Whittaker yelled.
“Sir it’s been about two minutes since he flatlined!” Verna shocked him yet again. Nothing happened.
“Give me those!” Whittaker snapped as he snatched the defibrillators and delivered a fifth shock to the pilot’s body. Mark flopped back onto the table, no better than before. The heart monitor continued to blare out a single tone. Nobody moved. The room was void of voices.
“Get him on life support. Now. We need to let them say goodbye at least,” Whittaker finally spoke.
Verna tipped the pilot’s head back and inserted a breathing tube which she attached to a ventilator. “Sir, h-he’s got a huge hole in him.” Her voice was flat and dull as she tried to hide her emotions. The whole room felt like death and defeat. “I-If you want to stitch him up, I’ll let them know.” Her voice cracked, as she got choked up, unable to say anything for a moment.
Even Dr. Whittaker was silent, only nodded as he finished clearing out what was left of the infection and sewed the gaping wound shut, gently wiping the red blood from Mark’s still, white body. The operating room was utterly silent.
Verna stopped at the doorway to Mark’s room, looking at Dylan and Frank. The door was open, and for the moment they didn’t notice her.
She could just imagine. Their hopeful faces looking up at her, expecting good news. And here she was to tell them that their beloved friend was dead. Gone forever. Verna’s hand on the doorframe tightened as she took in a deep, shaky breath.
Frank looked up, noticing her. “Verna?” he stood up quickly, as did Dylan. “H-how’s Mark?” his eyes peered searchingly into hers.
For a moment, Verna just stood there, unsure how to break the news. Tears threatened to spill, but she managed to hold them back, for now. That could come later but she had to hold herself together for their sake. It was the least she could do. She forced her feet to move forward, carrying her into the room. “I-I’m sorry. He didn’t pull through the surgery. He-he’s gone.”
Chapter 12:
Frank’s jaw dropped. His ears couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Dylan wasn’t in much better shape, he was also gaping at Verna in utter shock. “N-no!” Frank finally gasped. “No, it c-can’t be true!” his face was pure white.
This time, Verna couldn’t hold back the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I-I’m so…..so sorry.”
The room fell song. It was a long time before anyone moved, each trying to deal with the shock they felt. Finally, Frank glanced at Dylan.
“I…I…” Dylan’s voice trailed off. He was unable to say anything. He felt numb all over. Verna sighed, feeling very defeated.
“C-can we see him?” Frank asked, still not fully convinced.
Verna nodded, leading them into the OR. Mark was all cleaned up by then a white bandage was wrapped around the wound that Whittaker had sewn up. His hands lay folded neatly overtop of it and his eyes were closed, his face peaceful, almost looking as if he were sleeping, though the pilot’s face was as white as a ghost. The only movement was the ventilator gently making his chest rise and fall, almost like it was trying to fool them that Mark wasn’t really dead, though the heart monitor gave evidence to the contrary.
Frank’s heart sank as he saw the lifeless body of his friend. Emotions hit him all at once, causing him to stagger backwards. Dylan’s hands on his shoulder helped to steady him, but did nothing to comfort. “H-he’s on life support…why?” the elderly man asked huskily, hardly trusting his voice to speak.
“We-we were hoping we could get some life back into him,” Verna admitted, feeling awful for what she was saying. “At least enough to say goodbye. But he’s gone. H-he couldn’t fight anymore.” Despite her efforts, a single tear slipped down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away, trying to be discreet as possible.
Forcing his feet to carry him forward, Frank’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of what was once his best friend, his companion, the face of a man who had saved his life on multiple occasions, a man whose own life he had also saved. And he was gone. Never again would he see that cocky grin, hear the hearty laughter or share stories together. It was over. Tears spilled down Frank’s face as the numbness wore off, replaced by an overpowering ache of grief.
Frank reached out, taking Mark’s limp hand. He was still warm but it wouldn’t last long. His fingers wrapped around the pilot’s and squeezed gently, even now expecting a return gesture of fondness. Only there was no life to give it back. Desperation arose in Frank’s chest. “No…no please buddy…” Frank whispered, gazing earnestly at him, hoping for something, anything. There was no response.
“You can’t leave me. Please!” his voice grew almost panic stricken.
Dylan looked on, tears falling silently down his face as he waited to let Frank have time to come to terms with the loss they were both feeling. “Mark, you have to wake up!” Frank placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders, shaking him gently. “Wake up! I can’t live without you. Mark! Don’t leave me!” Frank completely broke down then, crying too hard for anyone to make out what else he was sobbing out. He knelt by the bed, still holding Mark’s hand and pressed it against his face, crying bitterly, heartbrokenly.
Verna watched Frank plead with Mark, quietly wiping away tear after tear as she watched how helpless he sounded. Dylan was just standing there, pale and shaking as he looked blankly at them. He seemed to still be in shock.
All of a sudden, Mark’s fingers suddenly twitched ever so slightly. The heart monitor, which had been running a single line for the past twelve minutes blipped one tiny, faint blip. Everyone jumped, hearts nearly leaping out of their chests in absolute shock. Verna was the first to recover. “Oh my-Doctor Whittaker!” she yelled. Frank raised his head, absolute shock and bewilderment etched all over his face. He looked ten years older already.
Doctor Whittaker raced in. “Oh my word!” he grabbed a stimulant, releasing the contents into Mark’s chest “Come on buddy! Fight! Come on Verna we have to help him!” He snapped an ambu bag to the breathing tube and began to squeeze it rhythmically. “How’s his stats looking Verna?”
Mark’s fingers twitched again, another blip appearing on the heart monitor, followed by two more. “Come on Frank. Talk to him!” Verna urged. “I mean for someone who was dead and is trying to come back they don’t look half bad,” she answered Whittaker.
Frank gripped Marks hand, trying to keep his own from trembling. “Come on Mark. I can’t lose you a-again. Come on, fight! Fight for me Mark. Come back to us!”
“Mark? Mark are you with us?” Whittaker called, continuing to squeeze the bag.
Slowly but steadily, Mark’s heart rate gained strength and rhythm, evening out. Very slowly, slower than slow, his eyes began to open, his throat closing around the breathing tube. “F-Frank…” he called in the softest, faintest of whispers.