Ruby Dawn

by Raquel Byrnes

  Tom coughed, blurry-eyed. His leg was twisted, pinned beneath the chair. “Cut me loose,” he shouted.

  A yowl escaped Blaine’s clenched teeth. He flew at Tom, wrapping hands around Tom’s neck and squeezing. “You did this!”

  Tom bucked in the chair. Straining against the tape, his vision grayed.

  Suddenly bullets churned the dirt near Blaine’s knee. Startled, the doctor let go, his face registering absolute fear. The gun tumbled away into the shadows.

  Wheezing and coughing, Tom gasped for air as he followed Blaine’s gaze.

  Black hair flaring out from super-heated air, eyes flashing, Ruby walked through the wall of fire. She locked her gaze on Tom and took his breath away. Her gun came up and she pulled the trigger, firing into the ceiling.

  “Don’t touch him!”

  46

  I stumbled in through the ruined wall of the boathouse and tripped over a fallen beam, the gun in my hand going off. My hand shook wildly from recoil. I staggered through the smoke.

  Blaine and Tom both stared at me with their mouths open. Blaine’s hand was bloody. Tom’s leg seeped blood under him and my heart clenched. I must have flinched, because the gun fired again.

  “Don’t touch him,” I screamed, fearful Blaine would hurt Tom again.

  He ducked when I yelled, and I remembered I had a gun. I pointed it at him.

  Tom’s face was pale, slack against the dirt. So much blood.

  “Ruby,” Blaine stammered, backing up. “Now, you just calm down.”

  I could barely hear him. I looked down at Tom, barely conscious, his life pooling in the dirt, and fury rose up.

  I glared at Blaine. “Run,” I roared at him.

  He turned on his heels and ran into the dark recesses of the boat house.

  Overhead, the loud crack of the roof spurned me to act.

  “Tom,” I gasped, grabbing a nearby sliver of metal. “Stay with me, Tom.”

  I sat down, kicked off a shoe, and pulled off my sock. Wrapping the metal in the sock as a handle, I used it to saw through the silver duct tape holding Tom to the chair. He slumped out of the chair, rolling onto the dirt.

  “Ruby, how did you not get blown up?” he moaned, eyelids fluttering.

  I pushed him over and undid his belt. I threaded the end of it under his leg just over the gunshot, and then yanked it tight.

  He groaned, flailing at my hands.

  Jaw grinding, I gave it a final yank and secured the end. “I’m sorry, Sweetie,” I whispered and ran a hand over his pasty forehead. “I know it hurts.”

  The walls around us shifted, teetering off kilter. My heart stopped. We were in danger of getting crushed under the roof. I shoved my foot into my shoe, and grabbed Tom under the armpits. I heaved, pulling with fear, and will, and panic.

  “Just leave me,” Tom muttered. “Go, Ruby…”

  “Shut up, Tom.”

  Lights flashed behind my eyes with the effort. Panting, I looked around for something to help. Like a cave, the shadows floated over the weird shapes of debris and trash.

  Tom faded, his head lolling to the side.

  There.

  I spotted a sheet of plastic and dragged it back to Tom’s prone body. I rolled him onto it and grabbed the end, tugging him towards the center of the boathouse, away from the caving roof. Behind us, I heard a click and froze.

  Blaine was silhouetted by the light streaming in from the window. “Oh, this is great,” he spat and wiggled his gun. “Guess what I found.”

  “Blaine, we need to get out of here,” I cried. “The walls are going to cave in.”

  His eyes were wide, maniacal. “Whose fault is that?” he screamed.

  Overhead, dust poured down, creating gloomy, dark shadows.

  I smelled the sharp salt of sea water. Right in front of me, the floor opened up on the ocean raging below. I’d almost dragged Tom into the sea. Staring transfixed at the waves smashing against the support pylons, my legs went weak.

  Blaine chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t have stopped you.”

  I stepped back from the edge, fear crawling up my spine. The mist rose up from the crashing waves, wetting me.

  Behind Blaine, a door swung on its hinges.

  “L-Listen, Blaine. I just want to get out of this, same as you,” I said.

  He pulled the hammer of the revolver back, the chamber clicking into place. Through the holes, I saw the blunt noses of the bullets seated in the cylinder. “I don’t think I’m going to let you leave.” He motioned with the gun barrel to the opening in the floor. “Toss him in.”

  My eyes widened with shock. “What?”

  “You heard me,” Blaine sneered. “Roll him into the ocean.”

  I shook my head. “I-I can’t do that.” I squinted, waiting for him to shoot me.

  “I said, toss him in!”

  “I said, NO!”

  Fear flashed into fury and without thinking, I flew at him. Wrapping one hand around the gun, I scratched at his face with my other hand. We careened backwards against the wall, jerking and tugging with one another. I leapt up, wrapped both legs around his waist and threw my weight back. We tumbled to the floor. His gun went off, the explosion by my ear, the sound sending waves of pain through my head.

  I didn’t let go. Whipping my head to the side, I bit down with all my strength into the fleshy part of his thumb. He screamed and yanked away. The gun skidded into the ocean. He popped to his knees and brought his fist back.

  I flinched.

  Something breezed past me, the wind from it caressing my cheek as Tom slammed the piece of lumber into Blaine’s chest like a pro-batter. Blaine crashed into the wall. His head slammed against the wood, and he slid to the floor.

  “Tom,” I screamed. I ran to catch him as he sank to the floor. “How…”

  Another jarring crack overhead sent a beam crumbling, raining chunks of the roof and blocking the door to the dock. Below, the waves roared, white froth splashing over the lip of the hole in the decking. Behind us, fire licked along the walls and smoke roiled, blacking out the view.

  We were trapped.

  I shook, staggering under Tom’s weight. “I don’t…” I struggled to breathe through the terror. “I don’t know what to do, Tom.”

  Gaze out of focus, he brought a hand up to caress my cheek. “You know what…” he asked softly and coughed. “I wouldn’t want to be any other place but in your arms, Ruby.”

  “I love you so much, Tom. It doesn’t matter what kind of life we have…I-I just want it to be with you.”

  “Ruby…” Tom’s gaze darkened with sorrow. “You can’t stay here.”

  “No, Tom,” I sobbed, grabbing his shirt. “Get up, please!”

  Tom pulled me to his chest, his breath ragged in my hair. “Ruby, I want you to swim out of here.”

  Dread squeezed my heart. “No.”

  “You need to go before this place caves in. Please.”

  I got to my feet. Anger, frustration, and years of loss burned through my veins, and I grabbed Tom by the shirt. “I will not…give up on us…again,” I yelled, sobbing. “Not this time.”

  “Ruby, I can’t swim with my leg like this,” he shouted and gripped my hands. “I don’t want you to die here.” Anguish flashed behind his beautiful eyes.

  My heart tore open.

  I opened my mouth to scream at him to move, but the wall buckled, shifting the room like a crazy nightmare. And then I was tumbling through the air, flipping head over heels through cold mist. Roaring waves met me with the icy grip of churning power and pulled me under.

  47

  Dresden Heights Detention Center

  Ten Years Ago

  It all happened so quickly, Griffin’s death. Not like in the movies, with a roar and a flash of lightning, but silently with nothing more than a surprised gasp. When he lunged to stab Tom, he slipped, actually dancing a bit on some lose pebbles and went down, his head smacking against the curb with a sick thud. His broken neck bent awkwardl
y, he looked up at me with blank eyes, and rain fell right into their cold blue centers.

  I stared, transfixed, and then screamed a long, wailing, shriek of horror. Behind me, leaning against the fence for support, Tom groaned. I took in his pale face and clenched jaw. My heart stuttered. Blood poured from his side, diluted in the rain; it ran down his jeans and swirled in the puddle at his feet. I moved to him and pressed my hand to his bloody gash, helping him to the ground. The rain beat down cold and hard, as it needled its way under my clothes.

  “Is he…” Tom groaned, eyes resting on Griffin. “Is he dead?”

  I licked my lips, blinking in the rain, and reached my trembling fingers to press at Griffin’s neck. One second, two seconds, I ripped my hand away, gasping.

  “He’s…there’s no pulse,” I said, voice cracking.

  Tom moaned, writhing to his side.

  Fear pulsed through me. “Tom, can you walk?”

  He shook his head, teeth clenched. He hissed with pain.

  “What do I do?”

  “Go get help, Ruby,” Tom moaned, his eyes swimming. “Hurry.”

  Nodding dumbly, I clambered up onto the chain link fence, pulling myself over it. I dropped down and ran. Legs pumping, chest burning for air, I wouldn’t quit. It was the middle of the night. Who would be out here, I thought desperately. How could I get help?

  Please, don’t let Tom die! Please don’t let him die, Lord.

  I stumbled, going down onto the jagged rocks of the field, my hands stinging. I started to crumble, sobs ripping through me.

  A resonant thought vibrated through my terrified mind.

  Trust me. Keep going.

  I sprinted to the street across from the field. I ran up to a liquor store. I banged on the windows, screaming for help. In the back of the store, a light came on. The Korean guy, the one who chased us out all the time for stealing candy, staggered out of the back tying on his robe. He peered out with concern, hesitated, and then ran towards me. He unlocked the door.

  “What is wrong?”

  “My friend, he’s hurt over in the bus barn.” I gestured to the old building across the field with shaking hands. “Please, call an ambulance.”

  Eyes squinted against the wind, he looked out, and then walked back to the front counter. “You’re just lucky I had to fix the plumbing.”

  “What?”

  “The plumbing, the plumbing,” he repeated, irritated. “The one night I stay here overnight, and a kid comes screaming at my door.”

  “The one night—” I stopped in my tracks, heart in my throat. I closed my eyes, fists balled under my chin, shivering in drenched clothes.

  I trust you, Lord. I trust you, I promise.

  ****

  I tumbled into the ocean, pieces of the boathouse crashing down with me. The ocean sucked me in on an icy swell. I flailed helplessly, going under. Flickering fire light streamed from the roofless room overhead, sending quivering objects barreling towards me. I looked with stinging eyes through the water, straining to reach the surface.

  A form fell towards me, broke through the water, and swerved away, buffeted by the waves. A piece of wood. To my right, another splash. This time the form came right at me. I kicked, trying to get out of the way.

  Hands out, Blaine’s contorted face flashed light and dark in the shards of sunshine shafting down. His eyes were wild. He grabbed my hair, screaming bubbles through his teeth.

  I turned, kicking at him, and he let go. Arms churning, I broke through the surface sucking in air and coughing. Flailing, I fought against the current. Something heavy splashed next to me, and I looked up. The remaining walls of the boathouse, engulfed in flames, teetered over the edge of the hole overhead.

  I had to move.

  “Tom?” I called and tried to tread water, but the waves churned me in circles. Swirling up, I saw the pylon as I pitched forward. Throwing my arms out, I got my legs in front and kicked, connecting with the cement with my soles. I whipped around it, ramming my hand in the process. Crying out, I tried to grab onto the side of the pylon, but the waves in the channel underneath the dock were too strong. I crashed against the cement wall, causing bright lights to flash in my vision. Panicked, I clawed at the wall like a cat in a bathtub, screaming frantically.

  Blaine’s cackle echoed through the channel and I froze. “Ruby-D!” He screeched from the darkness, laughing hysterically.

  I felt him before I saw him, his hands already around my arms.

  “You’re going to die down here,” he screamed.

  He grabbed my hair, trying to push me under, but something fell on him. His head cracked against mine. The beam pulled him down, snagging on his clothes and he clutched at me, panic steeling his grip.

  I thrashed, air escaping in bubbling screams as we sank and swirled deeper into the darkness. I made out a form floating overhead, silhouetted by light. Tom. A cloud of blood spread out from his body as he bobbed on the surface.

  Rage roared through me and I ripped free. Kicking and clawing at the water I went up, away from Blaine’s flailing arms. I looked down at the stream of bubbles rising from the deep. I couldn’t see Blaine. Vision greying, I swam, legs pumping, never stopping, I struggled until I reached the surface.

  Please, Lord. Please help me.

  Through the water, a large hand closed over mine and pulled me up. I burst through the water, sputtering and gasping for breath. Tiny’s face stared down as he crouched on his knees over the edge of the cement.

  “Doc, you OK?” he asked.

  My heart throbbed and I clutched onto him. “W-Where’s Tom?”

  “They’re working on him right now.” Tiny pulled me over the cement lip of the channel.

  Blaine and I had drifted out from under the boathouse and got caught in the whirlpool near the cement.

  I struggled out of Tiny’s grasp and crawled onto solid ground.

  Cruisers and ambulances jutted into the dirt driveway at odd angles. Off in the distance, the smoldering SUV and flaming remains of the boathouse smoked.

  Darnell and Downey stood against Tiny’s car.

  Burnt money fluttered in the wind.

  Ben had arrived with the cavalry.

  Voices pulled my attention further down the dock.

  A knot of men huddled around a prone figure. Paramedics, their bags splayed open, pulled on Tom’s shirt, ripping it open. One of them crouched over Tom with defibrillator paddles poised.

  Horror ripped free and I screamed. “Tom!”

  “Ruby, don’t.” Ben ran to me out of the throng, scooped me into his arms and turned me from the scene.

  “Let me go!”

  Three…two…one…shock patient.

  “Clear!” the paramedic shouted.

  Tom’s body bucked under the paddles, arms thrashing.

  My breath caught in my throat, sobs pouring out.

  The machine calibrated, beeping in long tones, searching for a pulse.

  Shock patient again.

  The paddles swung back down, and Tom jerked.

  The paramedic cursed and covered Tom’s mouth with an Ambu-bag, squeezing the blue balloon and forcing air into his lungs.

  “Do it one more time,” he ordered.

  I heard the electric hum of the paddles charging and I couldn’t breathe. More searching tones.

  No pulse, shock patient.

  “Clear!”

  My legs gave way. I covered my eyes with my fists, shivering in my drenched clothes. My mind flashed to that night long ago. The blood and tears, and fear…full circle.

  I trust you, Lord. I trust you with Tom.

  One second, two seconds of silence. Then, “Air, give me the oxygen!” the paramedic yelled. “I got a pulse.”

  My eyes flew open. “Tom!”

  He gagged and they rolled him on his side. Water sputtered out of his mouth and he retched, gasping for breath.

  I ran to Tom’s side, crying with joy, my heart soaring.

  He reached for my hand, squee
zing it. “Hey…” his blue lips trembled.

  “Just breathe,” I said with a quaking voice. “Just concentrate on breathing.”

  The paramedic put the mask back over Tom’s face, and his breath fogged it up.

  My stomach fluttered. “Stay with me.”

  “We have to move him, ma’am,” the paramedic said, and his partner pulled me away.

  “I’m going with you. I’m a doctor at New Lakes,” I breathed.

  On the litter, Tom’s lids fluttered shut.

  The paramedic nodded, and I got into the ambulance with them. He worked on Tom’s leg and started an IV.

  I squeezed Tom’s hand and waited with bated breath until he squeezed mine back. His lids cracked open, the pale green barely visible. He whispered something through the oxygen mask.

  Shaking my head, I leaned in, caressing his temple with my lips.

  “Be still, Tom. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Nodding, slightly, a tear slid down past his temple.

  48

  Three Weeks Later

  We drove in silence through the evening. Tom’s hands tapped nervously on the steering wheel of the Mustang. Every so often, he rubbed a palm on the pants of his left leg, wincing. The procedure to run a steel rod through his femur let him put weight on it far quicker than traction. The doctor promised a full recovery. Though making strides physically, he seemed distracted lately.

  “Where are we going, Tom?” I asked quietly.

  Clearing his throat, he rubbed the leg again. “Just trust me, Ruby.”

  “OK.”

  We pulled into a dark parking lot and I looked out the window. “Uh, we’re at a school.”

  He looked at me, bemused. “I know that you don’t want to talk about what happened at Dresden—”

  “Tom—”

  He put his hand up. “You need to know why I left Ruby. I think…I think it will help you stop worrying.”

  I pursed my lips, looking down at my hands. “OK.”

  Tom put his hands over mine. “Beau visited me at the hospital, Ruby. He told me that you’d sabotaged another chance to live with a family who wanted you…a good family.”