Page 48 of Heartless
No, not like this,I pleaded.We cannot go out like this.
I heard the sounds of a struggle, punches and groans and cries of pain. Blurs of movement flew over the long table, Josh and Eduardo locked in a fight, wrestling for their lives.
“Reaper, do something!” Josh sounded like he was underwater. “He dropped the knife but I can’t—agh!”
A thump and Josh went silent, his body eerily still as it draped over Eduardo’s. I couldn’t see the governor, fuck I could barely see shit. My arm felt like a sack of bricks as I fumbled for my holster, finding sweet purchase on the grip of my handgun.
Eduardo was too busy shoving Josh’s lifeless form off of him and the table, sending the governor’s assistant to crumble onto the floor in an awkward position. The fucking traitor dared to glance at me and smirk before jumping off the table and landing on his feet like a cat.
I didn’t move, worried I’d be too slow and he’d stab me again before I could pull the trigger. My dad’s panicked breaths against the opposite wall began to slow and I prayed it wasn’t too late. I needed this fucker to turn his back on me, to write me off as good as dead.
I took a painful, rattling breath and coughed, letting the blood from my lungs coat my lips and tongue.
Looking pathetic and close to death did the trick. Eduardo snorted derisively, turned around and lowered to his hands and knees. He began crawling his way under the table, where the governor had hid.
“No, no! Please!”
My arm was so fucking heavy and couldn’t stop shaking. Each breath felt like another hundred small knives in my lungs. My vision was going dark and I could barely make out the shapes in the room. There was a very real chance I could accidentally hit the governor if my shots went wide. But it was a chance I had to take.
I raised my gun, willing my arm to be steady and the fuzzy shapes in front of me to sharpen into focus. The governor was about to lose his life and I couldn’t afford to wait for a miracle. So, pointing under the table, I used the last of my strength to aim and pull the trigger.
A cry of pain rang out. It didn’t sound like the governor’s so I kept shooting. I emptied my gun, shooting half-blind until my ammo ran out and my arm fell like a concrete block to the floor.
Hades had been silent and uninvolved through the whole exchange. The black dog just stood off to the side, watching, as if waiting for his chance to step in and escort a new batch of souls to the underworld.
He came over to me after I stopped shooting, while I hung between alertness and unconsciousness. While my surroundings had gone blurry from pain and blood loss, his face in front of mine was the only thing in razor-sharp focus.
You will not hesitate on my command again. When I give the order, youwillobey.
Fourteen
MARIPOSA
“If you don’t have a scalpel out in the field, use anything you can find with a sharp edge,” I said to the small group of new medics. “A pocket knife will do, even a shard of glass can get the job done. But youmusthave some way to sterilize it, whether that’s rubbing alcohol, a lighter, or a flask of whiskey.”
A few chuckles arose from my group, but I kept my face solemn. “It might be funny to think about, but you won’t have time to think out there. Whatever you have on-hand might be the thing that saves someone’s life. Got one of those little teddy bears on a keychain to remind you of your kids, maybe? Guess what, you might end up dousing it in whiskey and shoving it into a bleeding hole in someone’s arm because you ran out of gauze.”
The doors burst open then, Rhonda coming in fast and leaning heavily on her cane. “We’ve got four incoming with multiple stab wounds. One deceased with multiple gunshot wounds.”
Stabbings and gunshots? What the hell?
A mix of adrenaline and fear coursed through me as I nodded and turned back to the new medics waiting for my instruction. “You heard her, get your asses to the ER.”
We all sprung into action, running down the hallway toward the stairwell. Jogging down the steps two at a time, I tried to stamp down my worry. Multiple stab wounds weren’t supposed to happen in a place like Four Corners. Who and what could have caused this?
“Two medics per patient,” I instructed, opening a faucet just outside the emergency room doors to scrub my hands vigorously.
Everyone around me did the same prep in solemn silence. Washing hands and putting on gloves, donning masks and surgical caps before heading in to save some lives. I followed after my students, eyes scanning the room to assess the damage when a horrifying realization dawned on me.
Governor Vance was conscious, sitting up and looking pale as the medics cut away his blood-soaked shirt. Forgetting myself, I ran to his side in a panic.
“Governor!” I cried, my voice muffled through my mask. “What happened? Who did this?”
“Oh shit, this is the governor?” a student asked, his eyes going wide.
“Keep working on him, you’re doing fine,” I said before addressing Vance again. “You’re going to be okay, sir. Seems you made off with the fewest injuries.”
“Josh!” The shocked man looked all around the room as if searching for his assistant.
