Page 4 of The Horror of Hell


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Big Al reached out and grabbed Lio’s shoulder and squeezed before lumbering after the paramedics rushing his wife inside. Phoe turned to Lio, offered a hug, and raced in after Big Al.

Phoe.

I paced back and forth as Big Al sat frozen in a chair. There was something I needed to tell him, but I was unsure how to approach it. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as Chance and the others finally appeared. Big Al and I had been here fifteen minutes as Lio had blasted through every red light. I’d dealt with paperwork, as Big Al just glared at anyone who spoke to him who didn’t have information about Tati. Chance arrived, and I dragged him to one side as the brothers filed in.

“Chance, did you notice them lift Tati out?” I urged.

“Yes,” Chance said, looking confused.

“Did you see?” I asked. Chance looked even more puzzled. “Tati was bleeding from between her legs, Chance; there were no wounds there.” I let Chance work it out, and whatever colour he had remaining fled.

“You think they knew?” Chance murmured.

“No, Big Al would have been taking out radio announcements if he’d known. With Tati’s injuries, there’s no way she’s kept it,” I replied.

“Fuck! Why Phoe? Why’s this shit got to happen?” Chance exploded softly.

“I can’t answer that, honey, but Big Al will lose it. This’ll break his heart,” I warned. Chance’s hands gripped my shoulders as he dragged me into him. Pain poured from Chance as he grabbed me. I looked over his shoulder and saw Clio standing there, watching. I beckoned her over, and Clio slid into Chance’s arms.

“Hold him tight, honey,” I said and moved across to Big Al. He stood at the front of the waiting room, thick thighs parted and feet planted. His arms were folded on his chest, and it was clear he had no plans to move. As I worried about how to tell Big Al of my suspicions, a woman doctor came toward us.

“Family of Tatiana Gates?” she asked.

Big Al moved, and she gazed up at him. I couldn’t say if he was about to receive awful news or not.

“I’m her husband,” Big Al said.

“Doctor Anne Marilyn. We’ve rushed Mrs Gates into surgery. She has an injury to her shoulder, which we are confident can be easily repaired. Another penetrated her stomach and exited through the back, and that pole was the most worrying. We have our best surgeons on her, and I’d like to warn you, this will take hours. Settle in for a long time, Mr Gates,” Doc Marilyn informed him.

“Is there anything we could do?” Chance rumbled, stepping closer. Clio was entrenched firmly at his side.

“Mrs Gates is bleeding copiously. We may need donors. Mrs Gates is A positive. Anyone with her blood group, O positive or O negative, can donate,” Doc Marilyn replied. Her eyes widened as every Hellfire brother stood up.

“Tell us where to go, doc; we’ll call allies in as well,” Chance rumbled, his palm on Big Al’s shoulder.

“I’ll get a nurse for you,” she responded, slightly stunned.

I waited for mention of the suspected pregnancy. Still, Doc Marilyn said nothing, and after saying she’d keep us updated, she turned briskly on her heel and left.

Big Al’s hand shot out and dragged me into him.

“Doc didn’t give me Tati’s chances,” Big Al murmured. That was a bad sign; I realised that. I squeezed Big Al tightly.

“Honey, I’m going to phone Rage and have Drake send a call to any allies in the area to head here and donate,” I said, and Al nodded. His eyes were fixed on the door Doctor Marilyn had disappeared through, and my heart broke for him. Big Al was our last founder, much like Axel, and he meant the world to Hellfire. We couldn’t lose him now.

???

An hour after I placed the call to Drake, I was startled Inglorious, and most of the Unwanted Bastards, stomped in. Rage followed them. Inglorious spied Big Al and, after acknowledging Chance, moved across to the enormous man slumped in a chair. Inglorious dropped beside him as Drake searched for me. Spying me, he strode toward me and dragged me into his arms.

“What’s Tati’s chances?” Drake asked.

“Low, so low the doctor wouldn’t even reveal them. Worse, Drake, I think Tati was pregnant,” I whispered.

“Motherfucker,” Drake muttered in my ear. “Does Big Al know?”

“No, the doc didn’t mention it. If Tati doesn’t survive, we’ll lose Big Al,” I said, clinging to Drake’s cut. Drake held me as tightly as he could as he dropped his chin to the top of my head. I inhaled his scent, unique to Drake, and settled into his embrace.

“Tati will make it because we’ll go to hell and drag her back,” Drake swore.

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