Captured Dragon (Water Dragons Book 2)

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Captured Dragon (Water Dragons Book 2) Page 3

by Charlene Hartnady


  “It looks like you need him alive. If that’s the case. I’m your best bet.” She looked him head-on.

  John glanced at Tim and then back at her. He finally nodded, still looking hesitant. “Those three in cell two. You can put her in with the animal. It’s on you now, girly. Better hope it lives.”

  Paige wanted to point out that the shifter was a he and not an it but this was not the right time to argue about something like that. She nodded once, wondering what the hell she had just got herself into. Especially considering the shifter looked dead. If he wasn’t already dead, he wasn’t far from it. She hoped she was wrong about that though.

  Paige watched the three women head inside the barn. Gus kept his gun trained on them. Kelly turned back once or twice. Her eyes were still wide but at least she’d stopped crying. Paige nodded once to try to reassure her. They were going to get out of this. She wasn’t sure how, only that she would work tirelessly to make it happen. Making sure the shifter survived would increase their odds.

  “Let’s go,” Mike pushed the words out as they lifted the shifter. Muscles strained and shook. The men grunted and groaned. She followed as the men carried him in the same direction the women had taken. They shuffled each step, cursing and grunting and cursing some more. The barn looked like any other barn you would find on any other ranch. This one was filled with bales of hay. Thing was, she hadn’t seen any livestock. Far to the rear of the building between bales stacked high, they arrived at stairs that led down. If you weren’t close enough, you wouldn’t even see there was anything there. The way the bales had been stacked made it look like they were trying to hide them.

  She looked behind her. George was the only one still outside. Maybe she could…

  “Follow us down,” Tim called from over his shoulder. “Don’t try anything,” he added. “You won’t get far and I’d enjoy punishing you.” He chuckled.

  “Quit fucking around and help carry this thing,” one of the other guys said between grunts. “The bitch isn’t going anywhere. Are you, honey?”

  Nice bunch of guys.

  Paige didn't bother answering. She followed, her feet felt heavy. She almost took a step back when she reached the landing at the bottom. The area downstairs was reasonably large, depending on where the doors led, it was most likely bigger than the barn itself. There was a big open-plan section that housed rows of cells… she quickly counted ten. Five on one side and five on the other. Each cell had a mattress to one side. A basin, toilet and faucet coming out of the wall on the other. Hopefully, these men didn't plan on housing them there for long, considering that there was zero privacy.

  The three women were huddled together on the mattress. Kelly was crying softly again, Hayley hugged her. Sydney looked angry, but her eyes held a good dose of fear as well.

  “Keep moving!” one of the guys yelled from ahead of her. She looked up just as they were entering a cell. She couldn’t see inside it from this angle.

  “We’ll be okay,” Sydney urged.

  “We should stick together,” Kelly said between sobs.

  “I need to help him,” Paige said quickly, moving off before she lost her nerve.

  They threw the shifter onto the mattress as she approached the cell.

  "You sure you want to be caged in with an animal?" one of the men chuckled, leering at her. "You're attractive. I wouldn't trust it if I were you."

  One thing was for sure, she would rather be locked in with a shifter than any of these guys. Anger burned in her gut. “Him and he, not it!” she said as the other men left, leaving her with this asshole.

  “Oh really now?” The guy approached her and she had to work not to step back. “Do you know it?” He pointed at the shifter. “Have you fucked one of them?” His gaze dropped to her breasts and she felt distinctly uncomfortable. “Maybe you need a real man to show you what fucking is all about.”

  Shit!

  Shit!

  “I n-need to get to work on r-removing that bullet,” she stammered. Keep it together! “If he dies, your boss won’t be happy.”

  “John is not our boss,” he announced before pushing out a breath. “Our real boss will be here soon enough.” Thankfully, he moved out of the way of the entrance and allowed her to go inside.

  Paige dropped down to her knees next to the fallen shifter as the door clanged shut. He didn’t look good. There was blood at the corners of his mouth. He was very pale and his eyes were closed. She put two fingers on his neck, feeling for a pulse. “I think he’s dead,” she said before leaning closer to him. Her ear against his mouth, trying to feel and listen for breathing. Nothing. "I'm sure he's dead," she said again, sounding shriller this time. The poor guy didn't deserve to be dead when all he'd done was try to help them. He had to have known he was in danger and yet he had marched in any way. She felt sad for him.

  “Shifters don’t die easily,” the guy disagreed. She looked up and saw he was smirking.

  “Well this one is gone,” she countered just as Mike returned. He swiped a card and entered the cell, dropping a bag on the floor next to her.

  “It’s a first aid kit,” he said.

  “I think it might be a little late for that.” Her lip trembled and her eyes stung with the need to cry.

  “Get that bullet out as quickly as possible and he just might make it.”

  “Didn’t you hear me?” She shook her head. “He doesn’t have a pulse.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Get the silver out of him and he should come back.”

  Come back? Was this guy for real?

  Mike handed her a knife. “Don’t think of trying something stupid. If you do, one of those women will get it. Dig that slug out and dress his wound. You heard John, if he doesn’t make it, it’s on you.”

  “I’m not the one who shot him.” She shook her head. What would these guys do to her if the shifter didn’t make it? What was she thinking? He was already dead. Most likely had been for a while.

  “You did say you could save him.” Mike raised his brows.

  “No, I didn’t. I said I was his best chance at survival and that was when I thought he was still alive. It’s too late.”

  “Same thing,” Mike said. “It might not be too late. Just do as I say and dig that slug out. He has super-human healing abilities that won’t work while he’s in contact with silver. At least, that’s what the boss told us.”

  “Your boss?” She frowned. “How would your boss know anything about dragon shifters.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not paid to ask questions. Do as you are told,” he ordered as he left.

  It wasn’t the same thing, but she knew she may as well have been speaking to a brick wall. There were more pressing issues at hand though, like trying to save the poor shifter.

  It was true, she was a vet's assistant and had assisted in plenty of surgeries. ‘Assisted' being the operative word there. She was the one who shaved the area, disinfected the surgery site and handed the veterinarian the instruments. She had never performed actual surgery before. There had only been one surgery that required the removal of a bullet. One ever. That had been several years ago.

  She opened the first aid kit. Her hands shook. A person didn’t just come back from the dead. This was crazy. In a strange way though, it was her one saving grace in the situation. At least she wasn’t going to accidentally kill him. He was already dead, so too late for that! Paige rummaged through the bag. Thankfully it was well stocked.

  She needed to try to save him even if it was futile. Maybe these men were right. They seemed to know a few things about dragon shifters. She was going to do everything as by the book as possible, even with these limited supplies, because, even though the first aid kit was well stocked, it was still only a first aid kit. First, she took all the items she thought she might need out. She poured some distilled water over the wound to wash away some of the blood so that she would be able to see what she was doing better. The entry wound was small. So deceptive. The damage would all be on
the inside. The wound was located an inch to the left of the sternum, a couple of inches below his pec.

  Then she picked up a bottle of rubbing alcohol. It was small but would have to do. She used the alcohol to clean the knife and used some more on her hands. Then she donned a pair of rubber gloves. She poured a little of the remaining alcohol rub onto the wound itself to try to disinfect it. Silly since the bullet inside certainly hadn’t been disinfected before that asshole shot the gun, but she did it anyway.

  She inserted her finger into the wound first, feeling for the bullet but knowing, realistically, it probably wouldn’t be so close to the surface. Try as she might, she couldn’t feel anything that felt like it could be a bullet. She was going to have to cut into the hole to widen it for better access.

  Paige sucked in a deep breath as she held the knife poised over the wound. His chest wasn’t moving.

  Nothing to lose.

  There was absolutely nothing to lose, she told herself again as she made the incision.

  There was still hope that he would come back though. It sounded stupid but she had to try. The incision didn’t bleed. A bad sign. Focus! Both Mike and John had said that she should hurry. The quicker she was, the more chance he had. It just seemed so unlikely. She cut again, over the same wound, the knife came up against bone. His ribcage was in the way. Paige tried sticking her finger back into the wound but still couldn’t feel a thing. The ideal would be to crack open the chest, remove the bullet and repair any damage to the organs. There were two problems in that scenario. She didn’t have the tools required. She would need power tools to get it done. Even if she did have the tools, she wasn’t equipped to cut through bone. What if she damaged his organs? Did even more damage than before. So, no way!

  She needed to focus on what she could do, not on what she couldn’t. All she had been instructed to do was get the bullet out and get it out she would. If she couldn’t get in through his chest, she would need to cut below the ribcage and navigate up, into the cavity that way. She needed to hurry. Without dwelling on it too much, she made a long incision below the ribs, as close to the gunshot site as possible. Luckily, the blade was very sharp. It cut through all of the layers easily.

  Using the knife, she pried the wound open. Thankful she’d seen enough surgeries in her time, she didn’t feel squeamish or sick. She could do this. Paige inserted her hand, it was a relatively tight fit. She needed to be careful of doing more damage.

  She navigated her way up, the tops of her fingers rubbed against his ribcage. She could also feel what had to be the bottom of his left lung. It was smooth and flat and…there, a hole. The opening wasn’t small like the one on his chest. It was big and gaping. She stuck her fingers inside, pushing, down until and she felt something hard. It was sloshy inside him. The cavity felt like it was filled with blood and bits of— She swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling queasy. She didn’t want to think about the bits.

  Paige rooted around, until she felt it again, hard and small. Almost too small to have done so much damage. Paige focused on getting her fingers on it, on getting a good grip, then she pulled, slowly removing her hand from the opening. The slug was about the size of the tip of her pinky finger.

  Paige looked down at the shifter, waiting for something. Anything. Some sign of life…but there was nothing. She felt for a pulse. Nothing.

  Maybe it would take some time. She looked down at the now gaping wounds. Two of them. If only she had something to sew the wounds up with. There were gauze and tape. She’d use what she had and make it work. Paige spent the next couple of minutes dressing and sealing them as best she could.

  She felt for a pulse again and was disappointed to find none. He was dead. It was stupid to think anything would change. Her eyes stung and her nose wanted to run so she sniffed hard, trying to hold the tears back.

  She cleaned up as much as possible. Washing her hands and the knife in the basin. She put the knife on top of the first aid kit near the cell door. As much as she would love to ‘try her luck’ as Mike had put it, she didn’t want to risk one of the others getting hurt. Besides, all of them were armed. What chance did she have with a knife when faced with a gun?

  Paige sat down, leaning against the wall opposite the mattress. There wasn’t anything more she could do for the shifter. He was beyond saving, beyond prayer even. She pulled her knees towards her chin and hugged herself.

  Chapter 4

  An hour later…

  “Fuck!” someone cursed. “He’s dead isn’t he?”

  Paige looked up at Mike and nodded. “He was dead when you brought him here, so yeah, he’s still dead. No change!”

  “You didn’t get that slug out quick enough.” Mike scowled at her.

  “He’s dead because he was shot. I took the bullet out within ten minutes of arriving here,” she argued, getting to her feet. Her back ached from sitting on the hard floor.

  “You sure you didn’t leave any bullet fragments in there?”

  “I checked as best I could. Ideally, we would have x-rayed him first to be sure.”

  “We don’t have that kind of equipment.” Mike shook his head.

  “And I forgot to pack my crystal ball. I did my best.” She quickly added the last when she saw his face turn red.

  Mike felt his left breast pocket and then moved to the right one, removing his keycard. “If he’s really dead, there’s no need to keep you in there.”

  Paige pushed out a breath and moved to the exit. It was unnerving being cooped up with a dead person. Mike closed the cell door behind her and grabbed her by the elbow. “I think we’ll start the interrogations off with you.”

  “What interrogation?” she asked, not liking where this was going.

  “We want to know everything you saw. Everything you know.” His voice was deep. “I suggest you speak up and that you talk quickly. John is in a bad mood. He’s going to be pissed when he finds out that thing died for real. He’s going to be itching to take it out on someone. Two guesses who that someone will be.”

  “Can I come too?” Tim asked as he sauntered up to them, that same cruel smirk on his face. “I’d like to help. Did you know, nipples are one of the most sensitive places on a female’s body?” He licked his lips, his eyes drifting to her chest.

  “You shut the hell up.” Mike pointed a finger at Tim. “You should lay low for a couple of days. John is going to hit the fucking roof when he hears the dragon didn’t make it. There’s going to be hell to pay when management gets here a little later as well.”

  Tim was looking past them, frowning heavily. “It’s not dead.” He shook his head. “Look.” He pointed into the cell.

  Paige sucked in a breath and she turned to look back into the cell. Sure enough, the shifter was breathing.

  Breathing.

  Good lord!

  It didn’t make any sense. How was he alive? How was this possible? The problem was, he was taking small shallow breaths. Fighting for each one. At this rate, he still might not make it. It took her a couple of seconds to realize what she was seeing. Paige had seen this before on quite a number of occasions. “His chest cavity is filled with blood,” she blurted. “It’s putting pressure on his lungs, making it almost impossible for them to expand.” It happened sometimes when there was massive trauma to the chest. “I need to go back in there.”

  “You’re just trying to get out of being interrogated,” Mike growled. “The thing will be just fine.”

  “Shit!” Tim muttered. “It’s stopped breathing.”

  “What?” Mike let her go, gripping the bars so that he could peer into the cell.

  “I’m telling you. It’s called a tension hemothorax,” Paige tried again. “I need to make an incision into his side so that the blood can drain. I’ll need a pipe or…” her mind raced, “the outside of a pen. Something to drain the blood, or he won’t make it.” She spoke quickly.

  The shifter didn’t take another breath. His chest was still. “Please!” she yelled. “We need to hu
rry! If his heart stops again, we might not get him back.”

  “Fine!” Mike pushed out. He opened the cell and pushed her in. “Get her that pen,” he said to Tim, urgency etched into every word.

  Paige grabbed the knife and the first aid kit. She dropped to her knees next to the shifter. There was no time to disinfect anything. This was a tension hematoma. She knew exactly what needed to happen, in theory. In practice, she had absolutely no idea. Had never done this before. Had never seen it done on a human. How different could it be? He was going to die if she didn’t try.

  Paige felt for an area between two ribs. Praying she didn’t hit any vital organs, she pushed the knife into his side. When she pulled the knife back out, blood leaked from the wound in big gushes. Within seconds the gushing stopped. She heard quick footfalls and Tim came into the cell, handing her a pen.

  Again, there was no time for disinfecting anything. Hopefully, he didn't end up dying from a massive infection. She stripped the pen and inserted the outer shell into the wound. More blood gushed out and the shifter pulled in a breath. And then another. And then another. She pushed out a sigh of relief.

  “Good job,” Mike said. “Stay with the animal and make sure it survives.”

  She nodded once. “I’ll do my best but he’s not out of the woods just yet.” Not by a long shot.

  “You see you do,” Mike said. “I’ll take that knife.” He looked pointedly at the weapon on the ground. “Nice and easy,” he said as she picked it up.

  Tim stood at the entrance to the cell. She could hear the voices of more men in the distance. She handed the blade back to Mike, handle first.

  “Good girl.” Mike winked at her.

  Asshole!

  She watched as the men left, locking her back in the cell.

  “Thank you,” a soft croak.

  Paige sucked in a sharp breath. The shifter had spoken. She looked down at him, seeing no change. His eyes were still closed. “Are you okay?” she asked. She went on when he didn’t respond. “Is there something I can do to help you?”

 

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