Page 35 of Redemption
At first, I only manage a gasp. He should know it’s me. We don’t have each other’s names programmed, but most of us have other, randomly chosen, names.
“Chris?”
“I’m not in good shape,” I manage to whisper.
“Where are you?” He’s suddenly all business. No stupid questions.
“West— Harbor. Far off by—” I cough up a clot of blood, and some fresh. A shudder wracks my body. I don’t think this is a good sign at all. “The warehouse.”
“I’m on my way.”
“I think I’m dying, bro,” I gasp. My heart pounds even faster, a light, rapid thud-thud-thud. Not good. Not good at all. I’m losing blood.
“I’m getting an ambulance for you. Stay alive. I’m disconnecting. You’ll stall me. See you in a bit.”
It goes silent.
It’s me, the sound of the wind and the waves. There’s a chill in the salty air that’s getting worse as the night closes in and the longer I lie on the uneven ground. It’s very symbolic. I don’t dare to move, afraid I’ll do more damage. The thought that I might not make it doesn’t leave my mind, and yes, there’s regret. I have hurt so many people, bulldozed my way through life, fucked up from an early age. I have been looking for something I have never found.
My mind inadvertently strays to Kerry and a stab of pain shoots through my heart. A pain that’s got nothing to do with the bullet wound. Great survival instincts. That lady is one of a fucking kind, and I still need to do her in. If I don’t, someone else will. She’s doomed no matter what. It’s all so beyond fucked.
I wasn’t playing her. I really do like her. What I feel doesn’t matter in this world, though.
Soon nothing will matter to me because I really don’t think I’ll make it. I can only take shallow breaths, and they don’t give me much air anymore. I’m shaking uncontrollably and my heart flutters. The cold, analytical Christian in me concludes that I’m about to go into shock, that I am bleeding out internally.
I can’t believe one tiny woman would be the one who took me down. I don’t know whether to admire her or hate her.
Angela. Who’ll protect her now? I pray my brothers are up for the task.
The faint sound of a siren that keeps getting stronger, and the blue lights bouncing off the facades of the surrounding buildings, give me a ray of hope.
A black Mercedes and an ambulance simultaneously come to a halt right next to me, the headlights hurting my eyes.
“Christian. Talk to me!”
Eric’s voice, as if from a distance.
Slamming of car doors, a rattle of wheels on the ground. People. Needles. Fluids. I’m being lifted. Talked to. I struggle to answer, but no sounds pass my lips. I need to tell them I can barely breathe, but I can’t get enough air.
The sounds become clanky, metallic, fading.
Kerry
I almost faint, falling against the side of the police cruiser. The cop comes darting out, catching me in his arms.
“Miss! What happened? Are you all right?”
My heart screams in sorrow, in pain and fright. No. I’m not all right. Not my soul. Physically, though, I have no idea. The massive adrenaline high has completely blocked out whatever agony I probably should be feeling. Rationally, I know I should hurt. I’m beaten up pretty bad.
I don’t object when he calls for an ambulance. I feel everything and nothing. They ask and ask, examine me, put needles into my veins. It takes me a while to realize that the moans come from me. Then I zone out and sleep claims me.
“You can questionher when she comes to, officer. She was given morphine on the way here. She’s asleep.”
“I would have needed to talk to her before that.”
“Her physical well-being comes first. Have you identified her yet? We haven’t gotten a name out of her, only nonsensical mumbling.”
“No. She didn’t have any ID. No phone. Nothing. The car didn’t lead us anywhere. I really do need to talk to her.”