The Healer

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by Dee Henderson


  Kate wished there was some way she could promise that. “Do you know who Greg is yelling at?”

  “No. Marissa never mentioned anyone named Mark.”

  Kate pointed to the recessed doorway to the chemistry lab. “Stay over there, away from these doorways. No matter what you hear, Rae, stay out here.”

  Rachel nodded and reluctantly moved away. Kate took a deep breath. Her hand was sweating. The shouting inside the cafeteria grew louder but was indistinguishable. Shots rang out again inside, the overlapping staccato of gunfire and return fire. She was walking into a beef between two kids being solved by bullets.

  Movement at the end of the hall caught Kate’s attention. Another cop was in the building. Kate held up her badge, knowing he couldn’t read it but would at least understand the meaning. She pointed at the cop and the far doors, then pointed at herself and the near doors. He nodded. They would have to get into the cafeteria and sort it out under fire.

  Kate eased open the doorway a crack and saw an overturned table and chairs. She pushed the door open and slipped inside as fast as she could. Kate looked fast around the large room and dashed toward the serving counter. The floor was tile and her tennis shoes squeaked. It was the end of the school day rather than the lunch hour. Most chairs had been stacked and put away on the side of the room so that the floors could be mopped. Two rows of tables had been in use. The floor was sticky from spilled drinks around a few of the overturned tables.

  The shouting was coming from the kitchen area.

  She made it ten feet inside the cafeteria and found her first victim. A girl had been struck in the head, the open book in her hand suggesting she died where she had been surprised when the gunmen burst in.

  Shots slapped into the metal supply carts near the salad line. “Police! Drop it!” The cop coming in the other end of the cafeteria took incoming fire and returned it.

  Kate rushed to the end of the counter to help him. “Police! Put it down!”

  The tall lanky kid went crashing over the counter. Kate moved toward him and barely ducked in time as the crew cut boy crashed atop her. A shot went off so close her ears rang. And then the pain registered. “Rachel!”

  Twenty-one

  Jennifer struggled to remember her residency days in the ER. She wasn’t used to this degree of trauma, but she knew how to keep the girl shot in the side from bleeding to death. She worked as a one-person trauma team trying to assess and treat the injury, knowing she was in a fight against time even as she listened to the shouts of firemen and paramedics and police surging into the area. She needed a medevac flight and a good surgeon.

  Jesus, I could use Your healing touch right now. It was a desperate prayer as she packed off the injury with the lining torn from a school jacket. “Hold on, Kim.”

  “It hurts.”

  The girl was crying and moving her legs against the agony. Both were blessings. Her lungs were clear and she had good mobility. Jennifer could feel the exit wound. This was a clean gunshot that had gone straight through and had luckily missed her liver.

  “Were you planning to ride the bus home? Was your mom coming to meet you?”

  “Ride with Theresa,” she gasped. “She lives on my block.”

  “Theresa Wallis, she’s over there by the oak tree,” the baseball player who had been helping her pointed out. There were heroes in this group of high school students, those who had rushed back to help despite the risks. Jennifer had seen adults doing the same thing, shielding students as they helped them get away.

  Jennifer turned. “Light green blouse and jeans?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go get her. If asked, tell the cops she’s coming to help me.”

  The boy nodded and took off at a sprint.

  Across the high school parking lot paramedics and firemen were rushing to help kids, the first arriving officers covering them. They were working toward the school as fast as they could, getting the kids who could be moved back to where they could be treated. Jen was relieved to see her brothers. Jack and Stephen were both working the front lines. Kate and Rachel had disappeared inside that building too long ago for comfort. A few teachers had broken out windows and were getting kids out of first floor classrooms, trying to avoid the school hallways.

  The boy came running back with Theresa beside him.

  Jennifer added another layer to the bandage covering the injury. She had the bleeding under control. That was rule one. “Kim, Theresa’s here.” She smiled at the friend and nodded to Kim’s other side. “I’m Jennifer. Can you hold her hand and relay messages to Kim’s mom? I’ve got my phone here you can use.”

  Theresa gladly complied, her relief at seeing her friend alive obvious. “Hi, Kim.”

  “Mom…the community pool. She teaches the tadpole class.”

  Her friend dialed the number information gave her.

  A police officer reached them. “Can she be transported by ambulance? General Hospital has a trauma center; it’s a six-minute drive with escort. Air is still minutes away.”

  “As long as she goes now.”

  He nodded and got on the radio. The logistics of containing a site that encompassed two schools and several hundred students that had yet to be secured was huge, as the number of responding police and ambulance grew each moment and already in the mix were parents trying to reach their children.

  “Doc. We need you over here!” an officer yelled.

  “I’ve got my hands full, Jennifer,” Lisa called. “Can you—”

  Jennifer turned and looked. “Yes.” They were working like a MASH unit doing fast triage and trying to keep students alive until more help could get here, and right now there was a desperate need for more doctors. Jen could see the ambulance coming. She reached for the hands of the boy. “Keep pressure here, steady and firm. Don’t lighten up until the paramedic takes over. Can you handle that?”

  The boy nodded.

  The owner of the ice cream shop was working alongside her. “Get me over there please.”

  Jennifer clenched her teeth against the pain of moving as she was lifted to the wheelchair. She wished Tom were here. They not only needed another doctor but she needed her husband. She hoped he didn’t get himself killed running red lights rushing here from the hotel. She’d promised him to take it easy this afternoon. The pain was growing as she tried to get her body to bear up under the strain.

  Jack and Stephen were both in the group helping the girl, which was the first clue of what Jennifer was getting into. She eased to the ground beside the girl lying facedown on the concrete beside the stairs. Jennifer battled tears as she saw who was injured.

  “Marissa, this is my sister Jennifer.” Jack eased a blood pressure cuff around the girl’s arm, trying to rapidly get an assessment of how severe the shock was hitting her.

  “Bad,” Stephen mouthed, shifting the bandage on her leg.

  Her leg had an open compound fracture below the knee. Stephen was working to stop the bleeding from the long gash while trying not to make the break worse. Jennifer could see the intensity in Stephen’s face as he worked: He knew the reality—he was trying hard to insure Marissa did not face amputation in order to save her life. Jennifer checked the tourniquet and nodded to Stephen then checked the other leg. When Marissa had tumbled on the stairs, her prosthesis had twisted around and broken at the ankle. Jennifer leaned down so the girl could see her. “Hi, Marissa.”

  The girl’s face was pasty white and she was sweating, both bad signs. Jennifer ran her hand lightly along Marissa’s arm, reassuring that the worst was over. A splint on her hand protected fingers broken in the fall. Jack had been able to lift her head just enough to put a soft cloth beneath her face, and it was absorbing the blood from the scrapes that had marred her face during the fall.

  “You’re the doctor. Rachel’s sister.”

  “Yes. You broke your leg pretty badly,” Jen said, at least able to reassure the girl she hadn’t been one of the unlucky ones shot. Caught in the rush to get out
of the way of the shooters, badly hurt, and forced to lay and watch her friends in the parking lot fall to the shootings, Marissa was fighting to overcome the shock now absorbing her. Stephen held up a note. Jennifer nodded agreement. Stephen filled a syringe and provided the first shot of pain relief.

  “Both of them, I didn’t think it was possible.” Marissa tried to smile. “No more dreaded leg exercises to improve my gait. No more trying to carry my backpack and not tip over as I walk. It’s okay. It’s just a few months of sitting down. I can do this.”

  Marissa’s words were slurring and her breathing grew more labored. “Don’t you hate that they make most wheelchairs gray instead of in a rainbow of colors?” Jennifer asked, reading the latest vital readings from Stephen’s clipboard. The teenager had spirit. Jennifer could see her sister’s influence in the calm responses and optimistic attitude. Marissa would have to endure months in plaster, but she’d be able to do it with humor. They had to get her stabilized or she wouldn’t make it that far.

  Jack and Stephen carefully placed an air splint around the leg break.

  “We’re going to turn you over, Marissa. You’ll feel a little dizzy as we do. I just want you to relax into the pain. It’s going to pass.”

  Stephen pointed to the guys helping him to make sure they did this smoothly. “On three.” They turned her with care.

  There was a scramble of hands as they realized the lower front of her shirt was bloody. Jack ripped material. She had a penetrating wound from something she had fallen on. They struggled to stop the bleeding.

  While they worked, Jennifer carefully wiped the blood from Marissa’s split lip, then ran her hand gently across the facial injuries making sure they weren’t covering broken bones. “You got yourself a couple nice bruises. How does it feel?”

  “Not bad.” Marissa breathed out in relief as the pain subsided.

  Stephen was checking vitals. Jennifer knew the numbers were stabilizing. She could see the relaxation of stress on Marissa’s face and the return of some color. Her breathing began to ease.

  “Does your mom carry a phone with her?”

  “Most of the time,” Marissa whispered.

  “She’s probably on her way here. Let’s give her the good news and a chance to hear your voice before we give her the bad news.”

  “What’s a phone number to try?” Stephen asked Marissa, being passed a phone by the one of the officers. He was able to get through to her mom, and the conversation began with a calm reassurance that Marissa was with him and able to talk with her. He held the phone for the girl.

  “Mom, I love you.” The words came accompanied by tears. Jennifer gently wiped them away so the salt wouldn’t burn her scrapes.

  Jack helped her tuck a blanket around Marissa. They had to get her to the hospital, but for the moment giving her vitals a chance to come up and stabilize mattered more than moving her. Jennifer would prefer to take her to the hospital by air so that jarring movement during the trip would be minimized. She wasn’t sure where the air ambulances would land but guessed they would use the football field. The leg break would have to be dealt with by a great surgeon.

  “How are you doing, Jen?” Jack asked.

  “I can last until more doctors get here.” She could feel an incredible exhaustion now taking over, her hands quivering at times, and a deep burning pain in her back. The agonizing pain building in her side nearly doubled her over. Jennifer looked toward the school, wishing Rachel and Kate were out here. It would do Marissa good to see Rachel before she left for the hospital. “Jack, they’ve been in there a long time.”

  “I put out a family emergency page. Marcus and Quinn will be here soon.”

  “Where’s Cole?” She had seen him earlier with Stephen. Rachel would need someone to hold her when this was over, and Cole was the perfect choice.

  Jack looked over at her and he shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

  Twenty-two

  Rachel walked out of the high school cafeteria stunned. The blood on her hands was Kate’s, and her hands trembled as she tried to wipe it off but couldn’t feel it through the rush of adrenaline. Kate had screamed her name, and Rachel had risked entering the cafeteria. The image wasn’t going to fade. Jesus, I need… She reached for the wall to steady herself.

  “Easy.” Gloved hands caught her and steadied her. Cole wrapped his arms around her. She was enveloped deep in a fireman’s coat and broad chest. She collapsed into the breadth of the man, knowing it was a safe place to hide.

  “Cole…” She struggled to form the words. “Kate needs a doctor. Her arm is ripped up and bleeding. And Greg—” her hands coiled into the stiff fabric—“is dead.”

  She shuddered at the images seared into her memory. Greg had been on the floor near Kate with two bullets in his chest and a gun in his hand. Her sister had been feeling for signs of a pulse. Rachel tried to help, only to have Kate gently take her hands and stop her, shaking her head.

  Reaching for a towel, Kate wrapped it tightly around her arm to staunch the bleeding and rose to check on the other boy. Lying facedown, he’d been hit in the head and there had been no hope, but Kate still checked. From there Kate headed over to the other officer, who had been hit in the shoulder. He’d already been struggling to his feet. They began a sweeping of the school cafeteria to make sure no trapped students were still inside.

  What had happened here?

  Cole moved Rachel back against the wall to keep her upright, his hands rubbing her back.

  “Greg and another boy are dead. They were shooting at each other,” she whispered. She couldn’t get the image of the girl who had been caught by surprise and killed with a book in her hand out of her mind. It was senseless. It was a school day, and there were kids dead in the cafeteria.

  Kids.

  She struggled to get beyond that horrifying thought. Rachel looked up at Cole’s face, and a chill settled across her heart at his expression. “How bad is it out there?”

  His hands tightened. The man she cared about had faced arson fires and car deaths, and the calm she depended on had been replaced with incredible distress.

  “Tell me.”

  “Rae, it started at the middle school.”

  Twenty-three

  Adam is dead,” Rachel whispered, terrified. There was a scene like this at the middle school. Tears began to flow as the shock reached unbearable levels.

  Cole’s hands shook as he cupped her face. “No.”

  She braced herself for the words coming.

  “It’s his friend, Tim. He was shot once in the chest. We found him in the boys locker room.”

  “Adam’s best friend? Greg’s brother?” Rachel struggled to get her thoughts around the information. How was she going to tell Clare the news that both her brothers were dead? That precious little girl with a smile that beamed and who had so adored her older brother… And the boys’ parents—this news was going to further tear apart their lives already damaged by the divorce.

  Rachel leaned against Cole, feeling sick. She rubbed numb hands on her jeans, trying to get sensation back. “What about Adam? Was he hurt?”

  Cole slid his hand around the back of her neck and tenderly cradled her against him. She could feel him trying to absorb the pain she was in, and she didn’t know how to release it to him. “I didn’t see him, but it’s chaotic out there.”

  “I was supposed to meet Tim and Adam at the bike rack. Maybe if I had been over there—”

  “Don’t,” Cole interrupted her. “We don’t know what happened yet to cause this. Don’t start the if-onlys yet.”

  She forced herself to face reality. “How many others are hurt?”

  He hesitated before answering her. “There were six high school students injured in the parking lot. How about inside the building?”

  She eased back and struggled to get a deep breath. “I know of one girl killed. The two shooters. I haven’t heard about the building sweep.” Someone finally killed the building alarm and the s
chool became eerily silent. Rachel rested her hands against Cole’s chest and felt it rise and fall with his breathing. He was here, alive, well. She was going to hold on tightly to that reassurance. “You got called.”

  “Someone pulled the fire alarm at the middle school and a short time later the high school.”

  She was grateful for whoever had thought to do so, for it had triggered the emergency units to come even before phone calls could reach 911. “Marissa was among those hurt.”

  “She broke her leg, Rae. It’s bad, but she wasn’t one of the shooting victims.”

  The cafeteria doors opened behind them and Kate stepped out. Her sister was furious. Rachel could see it in the tight control and contained expression with her jaw clenched. Kate’s impassive distance in a crisis had given way to the reality of this one. It was kids. Her sister would be haunted by the deaths. Her arm was already bleeding through the next towel. Rachel wrapped her in a hug. “I am so sorry.”

  Kate hugged her back. “Are you okay?”

  “Shaky.”

  Kate ran her hands across Rachel’s arms, trying to reassure. “It’s over, Rae. Keep telling yourself that.”

  “You need Jennifer to look at that arm.”

  “Two minutes,” Kate said. “We’re sealing the cafeteria and then they’ll start clearing classrooms. They’ll need a full debriefing at some point tonight,” she said softly. “I’ll come find you.”

  Rachel nodded.

  Kate looked over at Cole. “Would you tell Lisa I need her inside as soon as she can break free?”

  “I will.”

  “Take Rae out of here.”

  Rachel wasn’t sure she could walk that far.

  Cole’s arm around her waist tightened. “Come with me, Rae.”

  She had met one of the shooters in Greg. She knew one of the casualties in Tim. And she knew one of the victims in Marissa. Outside there were hundreds of students who had just gone through the most traumatic moment of their lives, who needed to be held, and she wasn’t sure she had it in her to cope with her own experience and also theirs. She wasn’t ready to face the questions.

 

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