The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

  He reached his hand up to her, placing it on her face. He brushed the tears that now streamed down her cheek away with his thumb. “El . . .” He spoke weakly and struggling through his pain. “I love you so much.” He closed his eyes, his hand dropped, and his head fell back.

  “No!” Ellen felt his body slump. “No.” She pulled him closer. “Oh God help him. Don’t take him from me.” Her heart was breaking. Her body shook with emotions as she cried, pressing her face to his. She couldn’t let him go. If she released her embrace for one second, he could slip from her. Slip from her arms, and from her life. She couldn’t bear that.

  Joe burst through the door of Ellen’s home, he was followed by Miguel and Henry. The shock of the scene that lay on the floor before his eyes was more then he could handle. He lost his breath, and fell to his knees. “Oh my, God.”

  Ellen lifted her eyes. Her face red and tear streaked. “He’s dying Joe. Help him. He’s dying.” Ellen laid her head on Frank and began to sob. “I can’t lose him. I can’t.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The chaos felt in the clinic was tremendous. Andrea rushed to meet Dean at the main doorway. After hearing Ellen’s call to Joe. Quickly, first summoning Dean from containment, she began to prep for Frank’s arrival. She only had minutes and just Melissa to help her. If how bad Frank actually was, was determined by Ellen’s call, then Frank wasn’t good. But Andrea didn’t know anything of his condition. She could only guess. The one thing Andrea remained certain of, was her ability to handle the situation. At that moment she was grateful for the twenty years she spent as a nurse in New York City.

  Dean peered out the glass doors, awaiting Frank. “How long ago was it that they called?”

  “Five minutes maybe.” Her hand gripped the gurney as tightly as Dean’s did.

  “Blood. Are we stocked?”

  “Melissa has five pints waiting in the O.R. we can always get . . . here they are.”

  Both Andrea and Dean held open the glass doors. The jeep screeched to a halt. Joe, Henry, and Miguel jumped out, they lifted Frank, who laid in Ellen’s arms, from the back of the jeep. They carried him to the clinic. Frank’s long body draped motionless over their arms. Ellen held his head from behind as they rushed inside and laid him on the awaiting gurney.

  Dean hurried to Ellen as Andrea immediately went to Frank. “El. are you . . .” He noticed her eyes were red, her body, half dressed, covered in blood. “ . . .all right?”

  “Help him, Dean.” She rushed past him to Frank’s side. “Andrea?”

  Andrea felt for a pulse. “I have a pulse. It’s a good one.” She lifted the unrecognizable blood soaked shirt from his wound. “Shit. Help me to O.R. STAT.”

  Ellen grabbed hold of the cart as it began to wheel down the hallway. “I’m coming with you.”

  Andrea, focused, kept moving. “No, stay here, it’s best.”

  “You need me in there. I am not leaving him. I won’t.” She pleaded. “Please.”

  “Fine. But the moment you get out of control, you are out.”

  “Thank you.” She looked to Dean, who held his hand on Frank’s stomach. “Thank you, Dean.”

  Dean shook his head at her. “Maybe you should get dressed first before you go in there.” He pushed the cart faster, out of Ellen’s hands, leaving her standing there.

  Henry, without hesitation, took off his shirt. “Here, El. Now go.”

  Ellen kissed him on the cheek. “Pray for him.” She ran down the hallway pulling the shirt over her head as she did. She burst into the operating room. Frank was being covered, while Melissa attached a monitor to him. The beeping sound began immediately. Frank’s heart. She heard it. It was a sign of hope to her. She ran to Frank’s side, and positioned herself by his head, right by the monitor. “Hold on, Frank.” She placed her lips to his forehead. “I’m here.”

  Andrea held her just scrubbed hands high, as Melissa placed a gown on her. “Ellen, the bags are ready. Hook Frank up.”

  Ellen stood up. She reached for the tubing and placed the ends of it on the table. Near his head, on a tray, lay the needles needed. Her hands shook as she reached for them, she couldn’t even pick them up.

  Dean, frustrated at Ellen’s inability, intervened. He grabbed the needles, and Frank’s arm, and inserted them. “If you want to stay in here, you have to better than that.” He resumed his position across from Andrea, placing his mask over his face. “Ready.”

  Andrea peered through the tops of her mask at Dean, then at Ellen, who cradled Frank’s head. “Melissa, scalpel.” She held out her hand. “We have a major bleeder here. I just have to find it. Dean . . . suction.” She began to go to work on Frank. “How’s our vitals Ellen?”

  “Pulse is fifty, BP is 80 over 60.” Ellen’s voice shook. “How bad is it Andrea?”

  “I’ve seen worse. We’re lucky that Frank is such a big guy.” She looked quickly at Ellen. “You have to calm down. We are doing fine here. I just have to find the bullet . . . Suction Dean . . . who shot him Ellen?”

  Ellen shook her head. “I don’t know. I was upstairs in the bedroom.” She kept staring at Frank.

  “What was going on?” Andrea asked.

  Dean breathed heavily in response. “It’s obvious what they were doing. They seemed to be lacking clothes.”

  Andrea glared at Dean, her hands pausing just briefly. “This is not the time for that, Doctor.” Her eyes returned to her work. “Found it . . . I got the bullet . . . one more second . . . there.”

  Ellen closed her eyes, her lips pressed to Frank when she heard the clank of the bullet hit the tray.

  “Dean suction . . . I see the bleeder, it’s not bad. It’s not bad, Ellen. There doesn’t seem to be much damage. I think I can do it.” Andrea nodded her head to Melissa who informed her she was replacing the empty pint of blood, with a fresh one. Andrea’s smile could not be seen through her mask. She was happy, the whole thing could have been worse. It was repair time, crisis over. “Talk to me Ellen. Just talk to me.”

  Dean didn’t understand Andrea’s infatuation with calming Ellen. It annoyed him. He tried not to let it interfere, but it did. He didn’t want to hear Ellen’s story. What he witnessed was enough.

  Ellen tried her hardest not to cry, every time she spoke her body trembled and shook.

  Andrea extended her hand to Melissa for another instrument. “Ellen . . . calm down . . .you don’t want me to kick you out, do you? Now is this you Ellen? Take control girl. Talk to me.”

  Ellen sniffled and wiped her hand across her face. “He has to be all right.”

  “He will be . . . Sutures. . . He’s going to be just fine. As soon as I’m done, we’ll hook him up to more blood, replace what he has lost, and he’ll recover. I promise.” Andrea began to suture.

  “He has to.” Ellen hovered over Frank. “He has to.” She kissed Frank again. “He said he wanted to marry me. I didn’t even answer him. I didn’t get a chance.”

  Dean’s heart dropped along with the scissors onto the tray. He took off his mask and backed away.

  Andrea lowered her mask with a deep breath of relief. “You’ll have your chance.” She dropped her gloves, and placed her hand on Ellen’s back. “He’s going to be fine . . . Melissa, get a fresh bag on him, with a stronger anti-infection agent. After you’re done let me know. I’ll get Miguel to roll him in his room.” The operation was over, Andrea walked to the sink to clean her hands.

  Across the room, Dean’s back was to Ellen. His fist on the table. Like he hadn’t seen in a long time, Ellen was out of control. It was all about Frank. The realization of Ellen and Frank finally struck him hard.

  Andrea shook her hands then dried them on a towel. She was abated at the success of everything. “Joe needs to know his son is fine. I’ll go tell him. Dean?” He didn’t answer her. “Dean? I’ll be back.” As she made her way to the doors, her body froze, her heart stopped. The steady beeping of Frank’s monitor that filled the room, now screamed out in one steady so
und. He flat lined.

  “No!” Ellen cried.

  Dean turned around. The room which he blocked from his mind, zoomed into sudden focus. He ran to Frank.

  “Shit!” Andrea raced over. “He’s crashing . . . Dean bag him! Ellen step back!” She grabbed the foot stool under the table, stood on it, cupped her hands and placed them over Frank’s chest. “Ready?”

  “One sec . .” He placed the air bag in Frank’s mouth. “Now!”

  Andrea began to compress on Frank’s chest, counting her compressions out loud. “One and two and three and four and breath. One and two . . .”

  The high pitched beep rang loud in Ellen’s ears, she couldn’t stay away, she moved closer to Frank. “Come on . . . Please, come on.”

  One cycle. One minute. Andrea checked for a pulse. “Nothing . . . Again.”

  Ellen could hear the counting, she prayed. “Frank please.”

  Two cycles. Two minutes. Nothing.

  Ellen knew the look on Dean’s face. Andrea worked over top of Frank with such desperation. The seconds were flying by, time was of the essence, and they were running out.

  Three cycles. Three minutes. No pulse.

  “Dean.” Ellen called to him. “The drug. The P.C.R.S.”

  “No, Ellen.” Dean squeezed the bag.

  “Please.”

  “Shut up!” Dean listened to Andrea count.

  Four cycles. Four minutes. Andrea checked again. “Damn it Frank come on. One more Dean.”

  “Dean . . .Dean . . .you have to do it.” Ellen pleaded.

  Dean shook his head, he squeezed again. He saw Andrea listen for a heartbeat.

  Andrea’s eyes lifted, she removed her stethoscope and flung it across the room. “I’m sorry Ellen. Call it Dean.”

  Dean looked up to the clock. “Eleven sixteen.” He pulled the bag from Franks mouth.

  “What are you doing?!” Ellen reached for Dean, he turned away. “Help him!”

  Dean lowered his head. “I can’t!”

  “Yes you can!” Ellen stood straight. “You can, Dean. You’re the only one. The drug. Hurry!”

  “It’s not ready. We don’t know what it will do.” He walked to the counter across the room.

  Ellen charged to him, her heart on the line, she grabbed hold of his jacket. “It’s ready. What good is it if we don’t try? You have try! You can save him. Save him, Dean. Please. I’m begging you.”

  Dean tried not to look into Ellen’s eyes, he kept turning away, shaking his head.

  “Please. If it doesn’t work, what will it hurt? Don’t do this Dean. Don’t let him die on me. Please I love him. He’s my life. I’ll do anything. I’ll give him up. Just don’t let him die.” She began to sob. “Please.”

  Dean pushed her away, backed up quickly and ran from the room. He had to do it. If there was the chance, no matter how slim, he had to take it. It was what he created the drug for. It was the test. Within seconds he flew back into the room holding the syringe. “Back away.” He ran over to the table. He looked at the clock. It was eleven seventeen. He placed his fingers on Frank’s chest, feeling for the space near the breast bone. He inserted the needle and plunged in the drug. The room was silent. They waited with baited breath, watching the second hand make its way around the face of the clock . . . twice. Nothing. “It didn’t work. I’m sorry Ellen.” Dean threw the syringe on the floor. He had failed.

  Ellen slowly moved closer to Frank. It couldn’t be. It was. Frank was gone. Her life was over. “Frank.” She moved to his ear. Her soft voice squeaked.. “Frank, I know you hear me. Listen to me. You can’t do this. You can’t die on me. You never gave up on anything. Never. Fight, Frank. Fight. Don’t leave me.” Her tears flowed faster as she hovered over him. Her body shaking as she kissed him. “I love you. . . so much. Don’t do this. Please.”

  Andrea listened to Ellen, her pleading, her crying, her begging. So emotional and it wasn’t good for her. Ellen had to be taken from the room. She made her way to a solace Dean, who was rubbing his head, watching. “We have to get her out of here. It’s not good for her.”

  Dean turned sharply to Andrea. “Why do I care what’s good for Ellen right now?”

  “You know why.” Andrea scolded. “She’s pregnant Dean. Care about that. Now help me.” Andrea walked over to Ellen and grabbed her arm.

  Dean heart sunk to the furthest depths it could. Hesitantly he followed Andrea. “Come on, El. This isn’t good for you.”

  “I don’t care.” She pulled her arms away from them. “I can’t leave him.”

  Andrea grabbed hold again. “Sweetie, we’ll leave him here, calm down, and then come back.” They began to drag her as she fought them.

  “No!” Ellen’s one cry. Her one word screamed from her soul and echoed through the halls of the clinic.

  Joe looked up. He heard her, he heard Ellen’s anguish. His heart fell. And he knew. His head lowered, it was over. He had lost his son.

  Ellen tried desperately, she fought with everything she had not to be taken. She reached out her hand toward Frank. Grasping out, crying, as in one final attempt to reach him. “Frank! No!” She threw back her head as the doors to the operating room flung open.

  Before they could leave, before they could step out. Melissa called out to them. “Dr. Hayes, Dr. Winters.”

  Ellen’s pleas were answered . . . by Frank. The sound was loud and clear. His heart was beating once more. Breaking from Dean and Andrea’s grip, Ellen charged forward faster than her body could move. She began to trip, her right knee banging to the floor as she saved her balance and reached for the table. “Oh my God.” She flew to Frank’s side. The beeping was strong and steady. “He came back.” She kissed his lips, holding his face in her hands, whispering. “You came back.”

  Andrea’s eye widened as she turned to Dean. “What did you give him?”

  “The P.C.R.S.. It worked.” Dean was stunned

  Ellen lifted her head when Dean walked back into the room, she stood straight up and moved to him. “Dean.” She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. “Thank you. You saved him. Thank you.”

  Dean reached up and grabbed hold of her arms removing them. He stepped back from Ellen not even looking at her. “Andrea, I have to go to my lab and get his second dosage ready. I . . . I don’t . . .” He couldn’t say anymore. Throat closed, Dean shook his head, held his hands up, and backed away, giving one more look at Ellen before leaving the operating room.

  ***

  Room number ten was quiet. Ellen sat by Frank’s bedside, holding on to his hand. Joe stood behind her, both hands on her shoulders.

  Andrea finished administering the medication into the intravenous. “There, that’s the second dose. Just to let you know what’s happening. He has normal sinus rhythm right now. Things look very good. But, we know Frank. If Frank wakes up too soon, he’s gonna want to get out of this bed. Because of that, we want to keep him out for three days, then see if he wakes up on his own.”

  Joe’s hands dropped off of Ellen. “What do you mean ‘if’, Andrea?”

  “We think everything will be fine. But we still have to remember he was dead for eight minutes. That’s a long time. If he wakes up, he may not be the same man.”

  “He will be.” Ellen kissed Frank’s hand. “I feel it. I know him. He’s coming back strong.”

  Andrea smiled. “I believe that too. Right now, I’m going to get some rest. My body needs it. It’s been a bad day.”

  Joe moved from behind Ellen and walked to Andrea grabbing hold of her hands. “You’re a very special lady Andrea. You saved my son’s life. With everything on your mind, you still saved his life. I am grateful, more than you know.”

  “I do know.” She patted his hands. “I also know, you will bring my son back for me. I believe that.” Andrea leaned into Joe and kissed him. “Goodnight Joe.” She waved to Ellen, and walked slowly from the room. She had to rest. Though momentarily, the tragedy that occurred in her life was placed far in her mind,
it all came back to her when things slowed down.

  Joe returned to Ellen, standing by his son, keeping watch and vigil over him.

  ***

  What a perfect scene. Dean thought as he stood in the doorway of Frank’s room. His mind flourished with the thoughts of what he had to say to Ellen. His heart was heavy. It was broke. He had lost a battle he didn’t realize he hadn’t a chance of winning. He cleared his throat loudly to get their attention. When they both looked to him, he spoke. “I, uh, need to speak to Ellen.”

  Ellen stood from her chair, motioning for Joe to sit. She walked to the doorway then into the hall with him. “Dean.” She gasped. “Oh, God, thank you. Frank is doing good. He’s alive because of . . .”

  “Shut up, Ellen.” Dean closed his eyes tight. “Just . . . shut up.”

  “What?” Ellen was shocked. “Dean, I was just . . .”

  “First.” He held up his hand. Face stern he moved closer leaning into Ellen who had backed against the wall. “I want to make something clear. I did not give that drug to Frank because you offered to give him up.”

  Ellen nodded slowly. “I know that. You’re a good doctor. That’s why I can’t thank you enough for . . .”

  “Ellen!” Dean slammed his hand into the wall just beside her head. “Listen to you! Do you even comprehend what else transpired tonight? Do you? What I saw. What I felt. How about learned?”

  “This isn’t about you, Dean.”

  “The hell it isn’t. He’s fine.” Dean pointed. “Deal with me now.”

  “If you’re worried about me keeping my word about giving him up, I. . .”

  “Screw your word. Give him up. Go on. Keep in mind, I don’t want you.”

  Ellen folded her arms tight and tried to slip away. “I’m not listening to this.”