Page 76 of Hell In A Handbasket
“She’s all gunked up,” the doctor murmurs, sucking mucus and shit from her nose. “Probably why she was in such a rush, huh?”
The world is silent. No sirens in the air. No frenzied chatter from inside the hospital. Nothing but Christabelle’s soft cries and racing breath.
My heartbeat, thundering in my ears.
Cato’s pacing feet, walking back and forth.
And then it comes. The shrieking, peeling, world-shifting scream of a baby taking her first breaths.
“Mazel tov!” Spence shoots his hands above his head in celebration, though he remains facing away beside Fletch and Archer. Micah. Jay. Kane. Corey. Tim. Troy. They create a wall, shielding my wife from exposure to anyone inside the hospital.
The girls… they face this way and grin.
“Holy fuck,” I groan, sliding behind Christabelle and cradling her against my chest. I lay her head on my shoulder and kiss her temple. “That’s the most amazing noise I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“You’ve got a daughter.” Falling to her butt, Minka exhales explosively and cradles my bloody baby to her chest. “It’s icky and gross and not an experience I ever want to repeat.”
“But we have a daughter,” I murmur. It’s unreal. Unbelievable. It’s otherworldly. And fuck, but it’s kind of amazing. “You gave me a daughter, Darling.”
“Aw, it’s okay.” The doctor wrings his hands together. “I didn’t do much.”
“Not you, Doctor Darling.” Aubree reaches around and brushes loose strands of hair off Christabelle’s cheek. “She’s Darling. The mother. He calls her Darling.”
“Oh!” He claps a hand over his chest, right where dark blue letters spell his name against a stark white coat. “Sorry.”
“You’re totally Raquel’s brother,” Minka snorts, running her thumb over the baby’s cheek. But then she moves to her knees, shuffling and careful, scraping her skin on the road, all so she can bring the baby up and press her to Christabelle’s chest. “Well done, Debbie. You got yourself a daughter.”
“Let’s get her inside the hospital!” Cato exclaims. “Hello! She needs a fucking hospital. And we arenotpaying for this delivery! You motherfuckers didn’t do anything!”
EPILOGUE
MINKA
Hours after Baby Malone—no name yet—came into the world, the rest of us amble back to camp to clean up the mess we left behind. To store away the chairs we’ve used in lieu of a couch these last couple of nights. To pick up the trash that blew onto the dirt in the wake of Jay’s terrible driving. Some of the guys work on folding the warped and destroyed grill thatusedto be attached to the side of the bus, and Tim walks around picking up bottles.
Beer bottles. Water bottles. A gas bottle, too.
But I sit on the edge of a camp chair and carefully clean the scrapes on my knees, soaking them with disinfectant and picking gravel from the wounds.
“Jen’s got stitches,” Jess giggles. “Soph’s arm is a little wonky after I kinda landed on it last night. I’ve got sore knees.” She drops her eyes and studies her bruises. “Christabelle’s vagina is all torn up. And now you need Band-Aids, too.”
“Girls gone wild,” Jay jokes, striding past and pushing a spare tire. Why? I don’t know. “It’s all a little more than we signed up for.”
“It’s a sign we should never,everdo this again.” Staring down at my work, I pick something foreign from my knee and flick it away. And for every moment I work, I feel Archer’s gaze. His heated stare and the beat of his heart in the air. “I refuse to ride with any of you ever again. This shit was a warning.”
“It was fun,” Soph counters, arrogance burning in her eyes. “Come on, Mayet. Admit it, it was fun.”
“It was a horrifying experience I never intend to repeat.”
“Every single female has been wounded,” Jen adds proudly, like being injured is a friggin’ badge of honor. “Well, except Aubree and Ellie. But Ellie’s a goner as soon as Felix’s brain clears up and he realizes she robbed him.”
“So that just leaves us with Aubree?” Soph looks Aubree up and down, glittering eyes and a hungry swipe of her tongue over her lips. “It would be rude to leave you out, don’t you think, Doctor Emeri?”
“Nope.” She takes a single step back. “I’m good.”
“I’m all about inclusivity.” She stalks forward. Slowly. Prowling. “I’m all about gooses and ganders and fairness.”
“Fairness would be to wound the men, not me.”
