“Scarlett?” He cried. “Her Mama what? Scarlett!”
Throwing off his jacket for better movement, he began CPR, starting with compressions, already knowing in his mind that she'd lost too much blood.
But he couldn't give up on her. He had to try to save her, the way he always did. He barely even noticed the crack of her ribs giving way under the pressure of his hands. Putting his lips to hers, he blew air into her lungs, bawling with desperation.
Travis continued to switch his attention back and forth for thirty minutes in his efforts to save the only woman he'd ever loved. But it was pointless and he knew it.
After another attempt at mouth to mouth, he gave up, resting his head on hers, barely able to breathe between sobs.
“How can you leave now, huh? Just like that. How could you give up so easy?” He said, his voice cracking and breaking with each syllable. He shook her. “It wasn't supposed to end like this, Scarlett!” He stood and started pacing, “For months and months I tried, I tried so fuckin' hard not to fall in love with you... But I did, and now you’re just gonna leave? I don't want you to go. I need you. Everything we've done, all this time, the things we survived. Everything we fought for, Scarlett! What the fuck am I gonna do now? How can you leave our little girl? She needs her Mama!” Travis suddenly remembered what Scarlett had told him moments before the gunfire and dropped himself back down beside her, clutching her abdomen. “Oh no. Oh no, please.” He bawled, “Scarlett. Scarlett, the baby! Please wake up. You've still got our baby inside you...”
He looked over to the man he'd put down. The man who'd done this to her. Apparently the hospital was occupied, but its residents had been elsewhere when Scarlett and Travis arrived.
He slipped one of Scarlett’s axes out of her belt and stood, approaching the body. He swung the axe as hard as his grief stricken body would allow onto the stranger. Again and again until he lost count of the lacerations he was making.
His grief was interrupted by the unintelligible shouting of two other people. Lifting his head, he saw the blurred silhouettes of a man and a woman drawing near.
Travis stood back from the mangled body as the woman dropped down next to it.
“David!” she yelled.
The unidentified man pointed a double-barrelled shotgun directly at Travis. He ignored the threat and made his way back to Scarlett.
“What did you do to him?” the woman demanded.
Travis turned to face them.
“He shot her.” He answered quietly. “She’s dead.”
“You were trespassing.” The man said coldly.
“Trespassin’? You think this place belongs to you? It doesn’t.”
“He was just protecting our home.” The female piped up.
“She was pregnant!” Travis screamed. He grabbed the pistol and reloaded it, aiming back at the man. “She was pregnant and he shot her. And now she’s dead.”
The unknown couple had nothing to say. The man lowered his weapon while the woman put her hands over her mouth.
Travis wanted to kill them too, but in the distance he could see Roamers approaching, lots of them, having probably heard the gunfire. He looked back at Scarlett. He couldn't leave her there. He wouldn't let them turn her.
He lowered the gun, put Scarlett’s axe through his own belt and scooped her limp body into his arms, grunting with the strain of her dead-weight, and made quickly for the car, but there were already two Roamers waiting for him. He did his best to fight them off, draping Scarlett over his shoulder. Once he was done with them, he laid Scarlett across the back seat.
The couple began to panic as they turned and saw the mass of bodies gaining on them. The shotgun jammed and both of them were attacked in seconds.
The attention of the rest of the Biters was on Travis and Scarlett now, and they were close enough that Travis knew he would have to fight them to get away.
He closed the car door after retrieving Scarlett's second axe and spun around to face the oncoming horde.
First he threw his knife, which entered through the eye socket of an approaching Roamer. He quickly took the other axe from his belt and began his merciless assault.
With each swing, he released all the pent up rage and sorrow onto his hungry, snarling victims. All at once he became overwhelmed by the number of corpses, and they had him pinned to the side of the car, each trying to sink its own set of ugly, dripping jaws into Travis' flesh.
He felt himself about to give up, but he craned his neck and saw Scarlett in the vehicle, recalling her last words to him. He needed to get back to Hope. She couldn't go through life wondering what happened to her parents. So he mustered every last bit of strength in his body to push against them and continue fighting. The muscles in his arms began to burn with the constant movement of the axes.
Finally down to one, he knocked it to the ground and followed it, striking it with the butt of an axe until its skull gave way. Travis was out of breath and exhausted, but got to his feet, panting. He got into the car, started the engine, and began the journey back to the warehouse.
How would he tell the others? In the years since she'd met Riley’s group, she'd practically lead them, she'd always be among those making supply runs, risking her life for others.
As he pulled up to the gate, he beeped the horn once and it quickly began to open. He drove slowly up to the auto-shop while Colin and Elizabeth closed the gate and approached the green estate.
They stood behind the vehicle as Travis got out, opening the left hand rear door. Leaning in, he carefully lifted Scarlett and removed her from the car, her body dangling limply in his arms. He left the door open and walked dimly with his head low, struggling to hold her up, his usually strong arms now weak with anguish and fatigue, toward the warehouse door. Colin and Elizabeth followed, neither of them sure whether or not Scarlett was alive.
“What happened, Travis?” Colin asked gently.
“Someone needs to make sure Hope doesn't see her like this.” Travis replied in a low rumble.
“No...” was all Colin could say, while Elizabeth simply nodded and scurried inside.
When Travis entered the warehouse, the others seemed aware of something not being right after Elizabeth had taken Hope and the other children into the offices. They were staring; waiting for Travis to tell them that Scarlett was okay, that she was just unconscious; perhaps she'd passed out because she'd skipped breakfast that morning.
Travis scanned their friends’ faces; Riley, Jack, River, Chino, Henry. He just shook his head wearily and began to weep as the reality hit him all over again.
Riley inhaled sharply and fell to his knees, sobbing loudly. Jack and River seemed to be in a state of shock, refusing to believe that Scarlett could actually be killed.
“What happened?” Henry piped up, but Travis couldn't speak.
He couldn't tell them what happened, not yet, it was too soon to relive it. Riley eventually stood and staggered toward his proxy little sister. He looked down at her and swept the hair out of her face. Without a word, Riley slid his hands under Scarlett’s body and took her. Travis was partly relieved; her body was turning cold and he was drained of energy and didn't want to drop her.
Riley held her tightly as Colin finally joined them. He looked at his daughter, limp in Riley’s arms, and tears fell from his eyes.
“Did she tell you, Travis?” He stuttered, “Did she tell you she was pregnant?”
Suddenly, everyone's attention was on Travis, awaiting his answer.
“Yeah,” he breathed, holding back a sob, “she did.”
“She was pregnant? Oh God.” Riley wailed, clinging even tighter to her, “Oh, Scar.”
He made for a picnic bench and laid her on the table.
Travis’ breath hitched in his throat when he saw Scarlett’s arm drop and he suddenly had to be alone. No one had any idea what to say to him as he walked slowly to the back of the warehouse, toward the offices.
He let himself into the room he and Scar
lett had talked in the night before. Where she’d convinced him once again that he was a good man doing what he could to protect his family. After closing the door he slid down to the floor and his head fell into his hands. He cried until it hurt.
When he lifted his head enough to look around, he noticed Scarlett’s shirt in a heap on the floor, coated with blood. He reached for it, feeling panicked, cheated and angry.
Tossing it across the small room, Travis stood and looked for something – anything – to bear the brunt of his rage. Scarlett’s axe still hung from his belt and his hand brushed against it. In one movement, he jerked the weapon free, raised it above his head and brought it down as hard as he could on the computer monitor, screaming, hoping he would feel better, less empty.
Turning around, the door was open and Hope stood, frightened in the corridor, looking up at her broken father.
Travis dropped the weapon and his face softened on seeing her. He had no idea how to tell her, and despite witnessing his outburst, she put her arms in the air, asking to be held. Travis picked her up and she cuddled into him.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He said, kissing her forehead.
“Mama?” she asked.
It took every ounce of self-control for Travis not to crumble. He couldn’t try to explain to a three year old that she wouldn’t see her mother again. He needed time to come up with the right words.
Riley shook with grief in River’s arms while Henry approached Scarlett’s body. He laid a hand on her face. He could feel how cold she was and her skin was paler than he’d ever seen it. Nevertheless, he pushed two fingers firmly into the side of her neck before quickly moving them to her wrist.
“Oh my god.” He mumbled. Turning his attention to the others in the room, he became frantic. “Someone come over here and help me, right now!” he yelled.
“What is it?” Jack asked, practically running to the table.
“She’s not dead. I can feel a pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there.”
“What do you need?” Riley asked, suddenly just as panicked as Henry.
“I need one of you to perform CPR; get her breathing. Does anybody know their own blood type?”
“Yes!” Riley shouted. “Jack, Chino and me, from our time in the military.”
“Okay good. Anyone of you type O?”
“I am.” Jack announced.
“She’s going to need a transfusion. And for God’s sake, somebody get Travis!”
Everyone assembled and organised themselves; Riley began mouth-to-mouth, and Jack went for Travis.
Hope sat on her father’s lap in the office he’d destroyed. She was sleepy and had already forgotten about Travis’ explosion. Jack let himself in, out of breath, edgy. Travis looked up at him, awaiting an explanation.
“You need to come with me,” he stated excitedly. “It’s Scarlett – come with me now!”
Travis stood straight away, his daughter in his arms, and followed Jack.
As they entered the main building, River took Hope so that she didn’t see her mother. Travis slowly moved toward the table Scarlett was laid on. Riley had got her breathing independently. Welling up, he moved closer and took her hand.
“I need another table, get it as close to Scarlett as possible. River, get me the cannulas and the tubing I showed you.” He said suddenly, noticing Travis and scurrying over to him. “Travis, I need you to concentrate for a second. Do you know your blood type?”
“Uh… I had an accident years ago; lost a lot of blood… O, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure, why?”
“Drink some water and lie down next to Scarlett. Right now.”
Travis didn’t hesitate. Colin handed him a canteen and Travis drank it all before climbing on to the table Chino had dragged across to Scarlett’s. He laid himself down and readily held out his arm for Henry.
After attaching a cannula to each end of the tubing, Henry carefully, but as quickly as possible, poked one end into Travis’ radial artery in his wrist. He watched and waited, allowing the blood to flow through the tubing until it began to drip from the other end. He laid Scarlett’s arm flat, palm upwards on the table and inserted the other cannula into the median cephalic vein in her elbow. While Travis’ blood flowed into Scarlett, Henry warily examined the tube to ensure that it didn’t start to clot.
When Travis had given all he could for the day, he sat up, feeling lightheaded and thirsty. Henry dressed his wrist and Elizabeth set about making him some food. He didn’t eat it. Instead, he sat next to Scarlett for an hour until Henry returned to her with some surgical equipment.
“It’s not ideal,” he said, “but I understand that the bullet didn’t exit Scarlett’s body, is that right?” Travis nodded, never taking his eyes off her. “Okay. In that case I’m going to need to remove it myself.” Finally, Travis looked at him. “She’s still unconscious, so she won’t feel a thing. If she wakes up then I’m afraid the best I can do is give her Entonox. You might have to hold her.”
Travis sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“If it means she lives…” he said bleakly.
“I have to warn you, Travis: there’s no guarantee that she’ll survive. The fact she’s made it this far is down to you, I hope you know that.” Travis furrowed his brow. “I examined her, as well as I could without really moving her. She’s got a couple of broken ribs. You performed CPR, didn’t you?”
“I had to try.”
“You did the right thing. If you hadn’t, she’d be dead now, without a doubt.”
Travis stood and positioned himself behind Scarlett’s head as River made her way over with the Entonox canister and mask.
On Henry’s count, the three of them hoisted Scarlett onto her front. Travis turned her head to the side and Henry removed Travis’ shirt from the wound, rolling Scarlett’s vest up to just under her bra, and got to work on finding the slug.
He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and placed an index finger into Scarlett’s injury to locate the bullet. Once he’d established its location, he introduced a small pair of forceps.
Travis was suddenly aware of Scarlett’s expression changing. She was waking up. As her eyes opened wide, she began to screech in agony and attempted to get up.
“Hold her, Travis! She’s going to do more damage!” Henry insisted.
Travis did so, placing his hands on her shoulders and using his weight to push her onto the table. He saw her looking up at him. Her eyes were huge and teary, panicked and confused.
River fumbled with the gas and air, but Scarlett wouldn’t allow the mask near her face. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Travis to hold her, so he leant across both shoulder blades with one arm and held her head down with the other.
Scarlett was no longer shrieking, but sobbing helplessly.
Finally, Henry retrieved the bullet, dropping it, along with the forceps, before reaching for the suturing kit. He rapidly stitched the hole in Scarlett’s back and breathed a sigh of relief.
Travis released her and squatted down so that his head was level with hers. Her breathing was uneven, terrified, and Travis put his head to hers, stroking her hair and apologising.
“I just need to dress the wound to prevent further bleeding.” Henry stated. “Then I’ll need Jack.”
“I can still give more.” Travis said.
“No, Travis. You’ve given more than enough. Any more and you’ll be in the same position as Scarlett.” As he spoke, Henry gathered some gauze and dressing. “See if she’ll accept the Entonox now, River.”
“Let me do it.” Travis insisted.
Holding the mask where Scarlett could see it, Travis talked soothingly to her in a low rumble. “You have to try and relax. Take a few deep breaths on this and it’ll be over.”
Scarlett tried to speak while Travis pressed the mask to her face. Once her injury was covered, Henry, Travis and River rolled her onto her back again.
“Travis,
” Scarlett whispered, “I feel wet.”
He right away knew what she meant. Looking down at her jeans, he could clearly see a patch of blood forming. Scarlett was losing their baby.
Travis looked at Henry, who shook his head dimly.
Holding back his tears, Travis turned his attention back to Scarlett while Henry spoke. “While she’s got some pain relief, I think it would be wise to assist her in cleaning up a little. I’ll leave that to you and River while I help Jack prepare.”
Scarlett was still sobbing, but allowed Travis to help her to her feet. Together, he and River practically carried her to the bathroom.
Once inside, Travis turned and spoke quietly to River.
“I’ll take it from here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. I’d like her to be able to hold on to a little bit of dignity.”
“Sure.”
Travis waited for River to leave and eased Scarlett’s arm from around his neck, helping her to lean on a sink. She stood unaided for a few moments, so Travis found a clean washcloth and some non-fragranced soap and began running a tap. Remembering it was cold, he switched it off again with a heavy sigh.
“Scar, I just need to heat up some water for you. I’ll get you some clothes too. Think I’ll need to cut those ones off.”
Scarlett gave a small nod and he left the room. The drugs made her feel sick and dizzy, but they had stopped working the moment she was upright. When the door closed, Scarlett lost her grip on the basin and crumbled to the floor in agony.
She knew what was happening to her, but had never expected it to hurt so much. Without making a sound, she continued to cry helplessly.
Aware that Travis wouldn’t be long, Scarlett reached for the washcloth and dragged her fragile body into a cubicle, managing to kick off her boots and pull down her jeans.
As the denim slid past her hips, she felt a searing pain on her left side. She looked down to see another wound; an arched series of small gouges at the top of her leg. Scarlett had no idea how it got there, but she knew what it was. She investigated further, pressing the washcloth against it – perhaps the skin hadn’t been broken. Upon further inspection, it appeared that just one of the tiny indentations was oozing blood. Scarlett knew that that was enough.
Roamers (Book 1) Page 27