by Mara Lynne
Hunter sounds like he’s given up.
“Hey!” Damien tilts his brother’s chin up, hoping that the strong tug would awaken his spirits.
This is not the man he used to know.
This is not Hunter Stone—not his brother.
A lot of questions plague in his head, but if he were to throw them at him now, the possibility of getting caught is higher.
“Listen to me. I’m not leaving you behind!”
But all Hunter does is utter Angel’s name over and over.
“Yes, I know… You’re going to see her,” Damien tells him. “I promise.”
“Leave, Damien… Please…”
“Not without you!”
Damien stands up and heaves Hunter’s body onto his back once more. He glances at his watch and sees the long hand running five minutes past nine.
Loud and deafening sounds boom from the outside. The commotion appears to be an encounter between Will’s men and the police.
“Hunter, I’ll get you out of here,” he says as he charges toward the entrance’s direction.
Only a few meters away from the steel gate, Damien hears gun shots, louder and clearer than the ones outside. His legs freeze as his senses abandon him, causing Hunter to fall to the ground on his stomach. Bullets tore through the gate, sending splinters everywhere.
When he turns around, Will’s vile grin meets him. His gun is pointed at him now. His fingers are on the trigger, ready to shoot him the moment he shows resistance.
“I was right to believe my instincts, Damien,” Will mutters. “I know you’re never late, so I thought you might be here already. Looks like I’m not wrong.”
His mouth curves into a smirk. Will continues, “Actually, I left Hunter like that for you to see. I could have killed him right off the bat, but I thought of you. I thought I would want you to know what I can do. Aren’t they extraordinary skills?”
“Will, just tell me what you want,” Damien says after taking a deep breath.
“You see, that’s what I like about you. You’re considerate of my feelings. You have the initiative, unlike Stag who lets pride run him over. See how he is now!”
“You can have anything you want, I swear. Just tell me what it is.”
Will bends his neck from side to side.
“Will it upset you if I tell you that I am perfectly content with what’s happening?” Will says, moving closer to where Damien and Hunter are. “I don’t think I would need anything from you, Damien.”
“Then maybe we can arrange things.”
“Nah!” As soon as he closes in on Hunter’s unconscious body, his right foot kicks the poor man on the side, turning him over. “I told you already. I am content. Do you think Stag’s dead? He looks like it.”
Damien quickly looks down the floor, and his eyes start to blur when he thought he sees Hunter’s chest cease moving.
“Hunter?” He falls down to his knees and begins to shrug Hunter’s shoulders. “Hunter?” It went on for a few seconds until Hunter coughs blood.
“Oops… I’m sorry. I thought he’s a goner. Looks like he’s going to stay for a while.”
The storm inside him remains untreated even if Hunter’s breathing and chest movements are quite visible now. For a moment there, he thought he had his brother’s cold corpse in his arms, and he was scared. No words could explain the fear that suddenly crept through him. It was as if it was only him, and Hunter’s body, and the darkness. His head was free of any thoughts but Hunter.
Seeing Hunter struggle breathing, blood flowing out of his mouth, Damien goes up to his knees, levels himself with the mighty Will, and lunges for the gun. But Will rolls his hands down and away, and snaps the gun up firm into the bottom of Damien’s chin, popping the latter’s jaw like a mouse trap. Damien flicks again, and this time, Will hits him hard in his throat, clutching him there like a madman, cutting off his supply of oxygen. Damien falls to the ground, the gun spews away from their reach—away from their sight.
Will sits atop Damien, his hands around his throat.
Damien extends his arms to stop Will from choking him.
And he charges. He throws up his forearms again offensively and hits Will’s face. As soon as Will loses touch of him, he slips to the side, pushes Will’s elbow down and away, snags his head, and bowls him into the floor. In a second, Damien is on his feet again, watches Will scurries toward him after picking himself up from the floor.
Will jumps to his feet and lands on Damien. He reaches under Damien’s shirt even as he pushes past the crates which looked filled and heavy a while ago but actually are empty as Damien dives into them.
Once again, Damien finds Will on top of him, breaking his face with his fists. However, Damien manages to land a straight hook onto Will’s lower jaw that sends the man flying a few feet away. Hurriedly, Damien gets a handful of Will’s hair who is barely on his knees now. He pulls his head forward and breaks his nose with his head. Still holding Will’s hair in one hand, Damien has his other hand into his crotch and puts his shoulders into him and lifts him off the ground and slams him down against the wooden crates. Will grunts, swallowing the pain, and kicks himself back to the surface. He watches Damien stand tall before him agape.
Before Will could get up, Damien throws another punch onto the man’s stomach that sends him straight to the floor once again. Then, Damien grasps the side Will’s face and smashes his head against the ground three times, and stops until Will ends his shriek of agony. As soon as Damien hears his skull crack, and a thick scarlet liquid starts to slither on the floor, he rushes to his brother to check on him.
“Hunter, wake up!” He calls, shoving the man’s shoulders with great force. “Wake up, please…”
At the sound of his voice, Hunter seems to have heard him clearly that he blinks his eyes more than twice. Damien lets out a laugh and puts a kiss on his brother’s forehead. Instantaneously, tears run down his cheeks as he feels Hunter fingers roughly touching his face.
Though his eyes are as red as rubies, they speak of great concern and hope.
Hunter must know about his condition. He must have known the wreck he has become, and he knows of the danger that Damien is in right now. His eyes display the kind of concern that opts to have himself be in danger rather than Damien, and the tiny speck of hope that only Damien understands.
Nonetheless, Damien refuses to accept that hope his brother covertly expresses. Even if he does not say a word of it, Damien knows what he wants to happen, what Hunter wants him to do.
He’s not going to do it because what Hunter believes is going to happen is not happening—not at all. Damien promised, and no matter what happens, he’s going to fulfill it. And so, he’ll do the biggest honor of crushing that hope for Hunter.
“Hunter…” crying, he says. “You’re going to be a father… Angel’s pregnant. You’re going to get out from here, and you’re going to live. You’re going to father that child, and you’re going to be with Angel… forever…”
“Thank you…” Hunter whispers into his ears, as though he’s not heard what Damien just said. His soft and warm voice sends chills all over Damien’s body that he feels his legs paralyzed for a couple of seconds and his brain deactivated, wondering why Hunter’s persistence means so much more than just a request. With all his remaining strength, Hunter hugs him tightly, their chests meeting, Damien feeling the thundering of Hunter’s heart. And with Hunter repeating “Thank you…” when a sound other than his brother’s fading voice yanks him back to the dreaded reality.
Hunter pukes a mouthful of blood. But it did not right away occur to Damien, not until the ringing of his ears stopped after the gun shot. With his arms around his brother, he feels the hot liquid pouring onto his skin. His fingers search for the entry way, and when they stop at the lower left corner of Hunter’s back, tears erupt from his eyes. He cannot feel the bullet—only the slimy hot liquid and the smell of rust, and the softness of Hunter’s pierced flesh. Damien loses all his stre
ngth quickly causing him to release his grasp of his brother’s body.
There, a few meters away from there, is Will, lying on the ground with an opened skull and with a gun pointing at him now.
The gun he holds is the same gun he had a while ago, and which he had the luxury to gain access to after he lost it.
With one last grin, Will calibrates the revolver, his fingers itching to clutch the trigger.
Damien, too shocked to even move a single muscle, closes his eyes and waits for that familiar sound.
Chapter 39 –The Choice
“Only time will tell us, Victoria,” Eric says as he writes in his notebook. “His first twenty-four hours was a miracle. Right now, his condition is stabilized, but I cannot guarantee you improved results. Hunter suffered severe injuries. The surgery did so little. He’s as good as brain dead. One thing’s for sure, it will not be long until—”
“Enough, Eric…” Victoria interjects. Her eyes are already swollen.
“It is better for you to be prepared. Have you told Angel of the possibilities?”
Sucking a deep sigh, she replies, “She knows. And I’m quite surprised she’s taking it rather calmly.”
“You will have to look after her, Victoria, especially now that she’s having a baby.”
“I know… How’s Damien?”
“Not very good. His condition is worse than Hunter, I must say. I don’t think he’d survive another shock. His heart is already showing signs of deterioration. We failed to save it. He might go first unless...”
Color leaves Victoria’s face as she falls to her seat.
“I think you know why this talk is happening, Victoria.”
She nods.
“Even though Hunter is stable, there’s no assurance he’d survive either.”
“You don’t have to keep reminding me, Eric.”
Eric rises to his feet and reaches for an envelope under a pile of papers on his table and hands it over to Victoria. “This was from seven years ago. Hunter signed it after recovering from the gun shot—that Delaware accident.”
With shaking fingers, she flips through the pages. “He’s told me about this, but I did not think he’d be serious.”
“He’s very specific about what he wants, Victoria. I wonder how he had known of this thing happening. He already prepared for it.”
“I agree…” Her eyes follow every legally binding statement in the paper. “It’s very him, his whole thing. Can I do something to contest this?”
Eric shakes his head. “It’s Hunter’s directive. You have no power to change it.”
“I know he’d do this for his brother,” Victoria whisper as the strength leave her veins.
***
Her fingers stroke his, feeling every inch of cold there is. He breathes heavily, and as every air leaves the device in his mouth, a tug to her chest pushes the tears out of her eyes.
It pains her to see him like this.
She calls for his name, hoping that he would take heed of her plea. And even if her cry would mean weakness, she just cannot help it. She’s tired of everyone telling her of what Hunter wants, that the latter would be happy to see her moving forward and letting go of what is hurting her. But the one thing hurting her is something she could not let go. It’s impossible. Definitely impossible.
But everyone seems to disapprove of what she wants.
Everyone says she has to stop hoping for it would be fruitless. They say keeping him like this makes no difference. It would be better to give Hunter the peace he needs.
It has been a day and a half since the police brought Hunter to the hospital. Reports say he was already dead when they found him. But a miracle happened after they defibrillated him on the spot and he took his first breath of life after a brief episode of death. It was a strange phenomenon, but it makes sense to Angel.
He does not want to let go. Hunter came back because he’s not giving up, but here goes the people around her telling otherwise.
Should she?
Should she give Hunter the peace he needs?
She takes his hand and kisses it.
Heaving a sigh, she pushes back the tears and clears her throat. “I just want to know what you want, baby. I don’t want to think you’re tired. You can’t… You’re going to be a father.” And her eyes shed some more tears. She forces her lips to form a smile, but they start to shake. “Didn’t you tell me once how you’d want to have lots of babies? Hunter, I’d give them to you. I will not complain. You can have as many babies as you want, and they will grow with you around. You’re going to put them to bed, feed them when they’re hungry, play with them, and even drive them to school. We’ll be a family—a happy one. Isn’t that what you want? I don’t know if our little angel is a boy or a girl, but if it’s going to be a boy, both of you can go on adventures. You will love it. If it’s a girl, I hope you won’t be too strict on her. She will need you to teach her about boys and love. I can’t do it alone. I need you…. You have to be with me. We have to be together.”
But is this enough?
Can Hunter hear her?
Will he wake up when he hears her crying like this?
“It’s impossible, Angel.” She remembers Eric’s words. “It’s a miracle he survived the critical twenty-four hours, but I cannot assure you of what will happen after. Hunter is in a coma, and if ever he wakes up, he’ll be completely incapacitated. He will not be able to walk, and he’d possibly be blind. Add to that the emotional trauma he would have to sustain. He might regress, and worse, he might not remember you. His injuries are no joke. It’s a wonder he survived.”
***
With a warm cup of coffee in her hands, Angel receives a text from Ray—a message of encouragement and comfort. It’s ten in the evening, and she and Victoria are taking turns watching over Hunter. Despite the Victories wishes for her to leave the hospital, Angel remains there. She trudges along the corridor, carrying Victoria’s coffee when she hears voices coming from the right wing where the chapel is. The voices seem familiar, and she is drawn to listen as she heard Hunter’s name being mentioned.
She keeps herself hidden behind the corner curve.
Outside the chapel door are Victoria and Mary Etheridge, talking. Victoria is keeping her gaze away from Mary’s imploring ones. Mary is on her knees, looking up to Victoria as she holds her hands tightly.
Mary Etheridge is crying.
“Please… I beg you, Victoria,” Mary sobbed. “From a mother to a mother, I know you’d understand me…”
Victoria closes her eyes and coldly shakes her hands to loosen the former’s grip on them.
“Victoria…” Mary plummets to the ground, crying incessantly.
Victoria gawks at Mary Etheridge with resolute pride, turning on her heels to leave.
The woman who does not bow to anything or anyone is kneeling in front of her, crying and pleading for his son’s life. This Mary Etheridge has become a total stranger to her now.
***
The compartment’s door slides to the left as Angel enters the cubicle with Victoria’s coffee. Victoria quickly rubs her sleeves rub her eyes to conceal the tears, but Angel already knows what upsets the woman.
She places the coffee on the bedside table and pulls a chair near Victoria.
“Sorry, it’s a bit cold now,” she says, referring to the coffee.
“I told you to rest at home, Angel.” Her eyes drift from his sleeping son to Angel.
“I saw you and Mary outside the chapel,” she answers.
“Do you know how Damien is doing? Have you seen him?” Victoria asks.
“I heard from Eric about his condition. I have not seen him, though.” Her gaze drops to the floor. Her toes start to feel cold and tingly, and her stomach begins to stir.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
Victoria takes her hands, holding them gently. “Why are you scared to see Damien, Angel?”
“I’m not scared,” she quickly replies as the co
rner of her mouth twitches and forces a smile.
Silence fills the room.
“Listen, sweetie.” Victoria cups Angel’s face. “We all know what is happening here. Time will come when it will only be you, me, and the baby.”
Angel squeezes her hands.
“It’s going to happen, sweetheart,” she tells Angel. “And if ever Damien lives…” Victoria’s voice cracks. “Hunter would want Damien to watch over you and the baby, and you will have to allow him, no matter what.”
Chapter 40 – The Closing of a Door and an Opening of a Window
Eleventh of September, 2016, Sunday, at one pm, Hunter Stone’s encephalogram report shows inactivity. His vital signs are stable.
Two minutes later, the nurses and the doctors confirm the consent and the medical order, reassessing and evaluating the family’s knowledge of the situation.
At exactly one thirty in the afternoon, the doctors headed by Eric Martin, a good and loyal friend of the family, took Hunter Stone out of life support.
***
Fifteen minutes after one, Damien is wheeled to the operating room.
Preparations are cautiously done.
At one fifty, Eric Martin dons his operating equipment. With him is Damien’s life saver, Hunter’s heart, taken out from his own blood and flesh.
At two pm, Eric Martin opens Damien’s chest, and Hunter’s heart finds a new home a minute later.
At exactly five minutes past two, they increased the volts by ten percent after the first failed charge. Thirty seconds later, they charged at one hundred and ten volts.
At 2:07 pm, the cardiac monitors show a strange pattern.
A few minutes later, Damien takes in his first unassisted breath.
Chapter 41 – The Opened Window
Her gaze is fixed on the playing area where a little girl is riding a stuffed animal, rocking it as though it was a living thing she’s playing with. Kids of the same age surround her and look very enthusiastic, giggling and shaking and touching each others’ limbs. It was a sight to behold—refreshing and fun. Three days ago was her birthday, and the child was feeling a little down, missing her friends. And so, seeing the little unicorn so alive and happy right now was a reward for her. Her fascination, however, is disrupted when Paul arrives.