Page 102 of A Light in the Darkness
It only takes me another few seconds before I twist the throttle, and the bike begins to move.
At first, I think I’m going to crash right at the outset. But then, I get my bearings, twisting the throttle to take me faster. I focus on his lights ahead of me and nothing else, pushing ahead despite the anxiety swirling in my stomach. The night doesn’t feel as suffocating as it did before, the air cooler as it slaps at my skin.
My grip on the handles eases as I begin to close the gap between Kent and I, a bit of the stress easing away as my confidence builds. Crashing and getting left behind in the desert or hitting my head and having my brains scattered around the canyon would suck, but the scariest thing I can imagine right now is losing him.
It’s all I can think about as we speed to the plane, faster, I think, than on the way there.
I will not lose him.
I can’t. We’ve been chasing each other since we met, orbiting in the same galaxy but never the same constellation. We’re finally on the same page.
The dark makes it hard to see and I’m relying on Kent’s memory, but after what feels like a brief eternity, the light from his bike illuminates the side of the plane, and I push forward faster until I close the distance. Braking proves to be a little harder than maintaining my balance, gravity pushing me forward so that I slam against the front of the bike and get the air knocked out of me for a second.
But then, I sling myself over the side and run to where Kent is already wrapping Remy around his shoulder. The lights bloom on, and I hear the engine whirring as Simon prepares for the getaway. I run ahead of Kent, to the cockpit, and beat on the door until it opens.
I’ve never met Simon, but I assume this is him. It’s not what I expected him to look like—a middle aged man with a bald head who looks suspiciously like Mr. Clean, earring and all.
“We need the closest hospital! Remy’s been shot.”
He looks at me, confused, and then his gaze flits behind me to where Kent is emerging at the top of the steps with Remy. He eases him into the nearest chair and then all but collapses, catching himself against the counter.
“Hospital.” He says, glancing at Simon. “Hurry.”
“Christ,” Simon mutters, shaking his head as he turns back to the safety of the cockpit. A moment later, his voice comes over the intercom. “Closest hospital I’d imagine is in Elko. It’s about forty minutes, give or take.”
“Take…” Kent mutters, just before he falls to the ground.
Chapter fifty-seven
Claire
Running into the ER with two men injured with gunshot wounds and me in my bra and jeans draws a crowd… though maybe not as big a crowd as Simon’s emergency landing in the baseball field across the street. He helped me get them in, Kent insisting that he’s fine and to let him go the whole way. Simon brought Remy in with ease and passed him off on the bewildered ER doctor, who came out of a set of steel doors when I ran in screaming for help.
It all happened so fast. They threw him on a gurney and wheeled him away from me, calling out codes and commands and leaving me with my heart aching and raw. A big woman physically restrained me as I pushed out from under Kent, proving him wrong about being ‘fine’ when it sent him careening into the wall without my support, and the doors shut me out.
In all the commotion, Simon ran out to find a place better suited for the plane, which left me alone with Kent.
“It’s just a kiss,” he insisted, over and over again, batting away the hands of the nurse who tried to appraise the wound. “It grazed me.”
It was more than akiss, the nurse explained. A through and through shot, which was lucky since it avoided causing any real damage. He cauterized his own wound on the bus when he did Remy’s—with the blade of a knife, he explained to the nurse, who clucks her annoyance with him as he continued trying to brush her away.
“Lucky you’re Rambo. If you’d lost any more blood, you’d be in real trouble. We’ve got a shortage of the good stuff tonight.”
Kent grunts by way of response, and I almost laugh at the irony, earning a curious glance from her. “We’re not exactly equipped for the level of trauma you brought in. We’re taking donors, though, if you want to contribute to the cause. Free cookie with every poke.”
I stand up automatically. If Remy needs blood to save his life, I’ll be the first to take the needle. I’ll give him as much as he needs, because I think my heart won’t work without him anyway. “Okay.”
“Sit down,” she chuckles, shaking her head. “I’ll send a phlebotomist in as soon as we finish with G.I. Joe here.”
Kent rolls his eyes, immune to the nurse’s attempts to lighten the mood.
I stay in the room as she cleans his burns, muttering about him being a big baby when he grits his teeth and growls at her to leave him alone. When she starts at him with a needle for the IV, he nearly kicks her in the face, and she turns to me for backup, as ifIcould tame the giant.
The nurse disappears, leaving me alone with an irritable Kent.
I never saw him get shot, never noticed he was bleeding. But I did see his wife lying in his arms, and the fact that he left her despite the fact that everything we did tonight was to save her, tells me that she’s indisputably dead. I assume it’s grief that’s got him acting out, so I don’t give him any more of it, sitting quietly in the chair across from the bed he’s perched on, refusing to lie back.
“Where did we go wrong?”
