"Do you know if she was in the first one?" I ask Brain.
He turns and looks at me with sorrow clear on his face, "No Beau, the chopper, it’s for her. She’s in one of those." His head tilts to the two idling ambulances outside the house.
"She’s in there? Are you sure?" I ask. I don't wait for an answer as I run up, jumping on the bumper to peer into the windows. I see a uniformed agent smacking the hands of a young EMT. Nothing about his condition screams life threatening. I hop down, hearing people shouting at me. Ignoring them, I look into the other ambulance.
The thin windows of the next rescue truck show me something my brain can’t process. I start wrenching the doors open, because surely there has been a mistake. The person laying seemingly unconscious can’t be her. This battered person laying on the stretcher, looking close to death, can't be Samantha.
When the doors won't open, I bang on the glass, causing the two men inside that are attaching equipment to her to look up.
"Samantha," I scream. Both men return to their work, quickly ignoring my panic.
I feel someone grab the back of my shirt, pulling me down off the bumper.
I swing around and push them away from me.
Brian is at my side in seconds.
"It’s not her. Where is Sammy?”
Brian’s trying to convince the agent not to arrest me. "It's not her. That woman is almost dead. Where is Samantha?"
Brian grabs the back of my neck connecting his forehead to mine, "Listen to me, Beau." He squeezes my nape, "You can’t lose it here. You can’t attack an agent like that. You’re going to end up arrested. You need to calm down." I hear his words, but I’m unable to comprehend them or do as he asks. I am shaking my head, pulling away from, in denial at what I just saw, at the state that Sam is in.
“No, it can’t…” I trail off. “This can’t be happening to her.” Brian tries to grab me again. I fight against his grip, pushing him away from me. He staggers back, then grabs my shoulders tightly.
“If you calm down, they might let you ride with her, with Samantha."
"Choppers almost here,” the agent waves at us, “Either get him steady or get him gone!"
My brain is finally catching up my body.
"Oh god," I whisper, Brian releases me, "How could someone do that to her? Oh god, he hurt her."
The noise of the helicopter grows close, I drag myself back from the pit of darkness trying to swallow me. I duck and rush to the back of the ambulance, so I can follow her. There’s no way she's getting on that chopper without me.
The doors open, and the stretcher is pulled out. I see, in clear view now, she's strapped to a backboard. Her head and neck are secured in braces. A thick white blanket is wrapped around her hand and arm.
My eyes are only on her as she’s rushed to the waiting chopper.
I don't understand half of the jargon they use to describe her injuries.
On thing I can grasp is, “Internal bleeding from blunt force trauma.” My fingers clench against the railing.
I breath heavily, collecting myself. I reach an unsteady hand up to brush my fingers over her swollen cheek.
“Sammy,” my voice breaks, “Sammy, I’m so happy to see you.” I try clearing my throat to get the words out, “God I missed you, sweets. Can you hear me? I’m here Sammy.”
I can’t stop myself from repeating a cascade of apologies. I’m not even sure if she can hear me, but the words pour out of me nonetheless.
I stay close to her whispering in her ear, until we land on a huge rooftop. Four people in white coats rush out to us.
As we enter the building someone stops me, asking how I'm related to her. The lie comes easily, "I'm her fiancé, her only family."
The nurse nods, looking sympathetic.
"Can you tell me what's happening? I didn't understand half of what they were saying about her condition.” I feel a small sense of relief being in the hospital. They'll be able to save her.
The nurse looks down at a white clipboard and flips through the few notes they have on her.
