Page 27 of Raven's Curse
“Thanks.” Chase nodded to the spot beside him. “Do you know how to work one?”
“I’ve had some training.”
“Of course, you have.” He kept pumping, his arms already starting to cramp. “Get it juiced up, and we’ll see if she’s got a shockable rhythm.”
Sweat beaded his brow, his chest heaving from the strain, but he kept going, pausing once Jordan and Kash had positioned the pads.
The machine started talking, going through the motions. Taking so damn long Chase had to physically stop himself from ripping off the leads and resuming compressions. It took a good thirty seconds before it finally sent out a charge, jerking Stacey’s body before telling Chase to resume CPR.
He muttered under his breath. Stacey was young. Healthy. With her airway restored, he’d thought she’d rally. Sure, she likely had some internal bleeding on top of additional side effects from the hypoxia, but he’d believed she’d make it to the hospital. Would eventually pull through. Having her code so quickly after being attacked…
“Kash. Buddy, grab me one milligram of epi.”
Kash snagged a syringe, measured out the meds then handed it to Chase. Chase stopped long enough to inject it into the IV port, then started up again when nothing happened.
Just his pulse thundering in his head.
Her limp body shaking with every compression.
Time ticked in the background as a siren sounded in the distance. Faint. What Chase guessed was still minutes away.
He tried shocking her, again, got the same non-response, then went back to work. He could spell off. Kash was highly qualified. Had saved Chase’s ass a few times when he’d been the one to fall. But every time he opened his mouth to ask Kash to switch, her sightless gaze transformed into Rhett’s wide eyes. As if he’d known it was the last time he’d see Chase.
Footsteps.
Not like before.
These were lighter. Faster.
Jordan took point, that freaking knife clasped in her hand, glinting whenever her flashlight caught the edge. She waited, relaxing a bit when a man rushed around the side of the building, glasses half-fogged from the weather, a small medical bag grasped in one hand.
Dr. Tremblay. Who Chase suspected had been on call.
The doctor headed straight for them, settling in beside Chase. “Jesus, Remington, what the hell?”
Chase hissed out a breath. “It’s every bit as bad as it looks.”
Tremblay ran through her vitals, shaking his head when another shock attempt failed. “How long has she been down?”
Chase kept working, his arms twice as heavy as when he’d started. “It’s been ten minutes since I started compressions.”
“Damn.” He pushed another round of epi, constantly assessing the situation before sighing. “She’s gone.”
Chase grunted and kept pumping, glaring at Tremblay. “She’s still got time. If we had more sophisticated equipment?—”
“It’s a twenty-minute drive to Providence. And the ambulance isn’t even here, yet.” Tremblay shook his head. “You did everything you could. It’s time to call it.”
“No.”
“Remington…”
“We don’t give up until there’s not a ghost of a chance. No one left behind.”
“This isn’t the field, and she’s not a soldier.” Tremblay placed his hand over Chase’s. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t save everyone.”
Chase panted out a few breaths, slowly stopping his efforts until he simply hovered over Stacey, fingers still laced together, sweat running down his cheek. He glanced at her face, saw Rhett’s eyes staring up at him again, before he rocked onto his heels. Closed his eyes. All that weight from the previous night closing in around him. Pushing down on his shoulders until he scrambled to his feet — backed up until his ass hit the building.
The rain picked up, the foghorn still sounding in the background as he stared at her, hands fisted at his side, defeat burning a hole in his gut.
