I laughed weakly, letting the car slow down as I lost more strength to keep my foot on the accelerator, "Davey, please lecture me later. Hurry up and find me before I bleed out all over this rich Italian leather." I let the car drift off to the side of the road as my body gave up and my vision went black.
Davey's voice yelling my name faded away like someone turning down the sound on the TV. When the car rolled to a stop on a wide dirt patch under a tree, I gave up. Letting my body have its wish, I slumped down into the seat and let my eyes close.
Sam tried his best at keeping me calm as we sat in the tiny office of the small airport Davidek had him land at a few hours ago. He offered me coffee, bagels, even turning on the old TV on the rickety wooden desk. Cracking jokes about the Redskins not knowing a football from a hole in the ground. Eventually he gave up and sat with Mac, one of Davidek’s employees at his Washington outpost. He brought him along as a just in case last thought. Both men sat quietly watching the game, occasionally looking over at me. Wanting to say anything to keep me calm, but letting it be and letting me stare out the window endlessly.
It wasn't helping to distract me from thinking about Kit and how long it would take Davidek to find her. Her phone kept dropping to voice mail and the GPS locator would only flash SIGNAL NOT AVAILABLE, every time we tried to locate the Lincoln.
I stood facing the old plate glass windows, looking out on the airfield and my private jet. Both Davidek and I had been oblivious to Kit's impromptu trip down to Tennessee. Trusting her and the note she left, telling me she was with her family for the day, breakfast with her parents that would lead into a full day of reconnecting. I sighed, leaning my head against the glass, I closed my eyes, thinking back to this morning.
Davidek and I opted to spend the day in the townhouse, eating a massive breakfast and telling stories of when we were kids and the trouble we got into. I filled him in on meeting Kit's parents and the night prior at the symphony. I told him about Olivia Williams and had him discreetly begin to find out more on her, wanting to do my best to keep her from Kit and from me.
Getting caught up lead to us moving down to the basement and to my home lab. Davidek felt it was time to upgrade all the cars GPS and security encryption systems. I was spinning in the chair next to him as he hovered over the computer, typing away at his programming. I was trying to get him to spill if he was finally dating anyone.
He glared at me, "Bits, just because you are stupidly, and disgustingly in love, does not mean everyone else will be quick to follow." He leaned away from the computer, "Is Kit doing better?"
I halted my spin, knowing what he was asking. "One day at a time, but yes. I think she has finally found the value in life. In her life." I smiled, shyly, "Is it bad that I miss her and she's only been gone half a day?" I poked at my phone as it sat on the desk, wanting to pick it up and call her. Text her, anything.
Davidek rolled his eyes, "From adult woman to teenager in love in the matter of weeks. You are one smitten kitten, Claire." He returned to tapping on the keyboard, before grinning, "I am really happy for you Bits. I started to think I would never see you with anyone other than your science experiments." He turned to face me, "And no, it isn't bad that you miss her, it's sickening and adorable. When will she be home? I want to work on the route."
I pushed my phone away, rolling my chair closer to Davidek, "I think she said late tonight, maybe?" I read over the streams of coding he had up on the screen, "Her parents are staying at the Westin by the Capital. She said she would be meeting them there for breakfast." I looked away from the screen, reaching for thin stack of papers from my last trip to Geneva, ones I had yet to input and file away.
Davidek made a confused sound, "Really? Then why does her in car GPS say she is in Tennessee, right outside of Pigeon Forge and moving south?"
I looked up in his eyes before moving to the large screen with a map of Tennessee and the moving red dot. I clenched my jaw as my stomach dropped. I knew exactly what she was doing down in Tennessee, I should have known she would go. I took a deep breath, picking up my phone and dialing her. There were no rings and no voice mail, just the monotone, robotic voice telling me the cellular customer I was trying to reach was out of a signal area. I tossed the phone back on the desk, keeping my eyes on the moving red dot. "Call Sam. Tell him we need to get to Tennessee as soon as possible."
I wasn't angry at Kit for going and not telling me. Watching her car disappear from the GPS while in the jet, I should have expected the stubborn woman to ignore sensibility and go. Go and get the church's information before it was lost at the hands of my other enemy. I was disappointed in her for feeling like she had to hide it from me.
Disappointment turned to worry when we couldn't get a hold of her and her red dot never reappeared on the GPS. Worry fell into dread when we landed at the tiny airport thirty minutes from where the coordinates Davidek had, suggested where the church was and where Kit could be. Dread became controlled panic when Sam's scanner picked up police radio traffic about a massive fire at a roadside motel. Then more traffic about neighbors reporting faint sounds of gunfire coming from the building before the flames consumed the old building.
I paced, scared at all of the things that could be happening or already happened to Kit. My over active mind racing around infinite horrible scenarios. I let out a short, shaky breath. Trying to ease the pressure around my heart as it squeezed harder and harder at the thought of what if. I couldn't lose Kit, I couldn't. I rubbed at my temple, praying to a long forgotten god, asking him to keep Kit safe, alive so I could see her again and hold her.
I was startled out of my silent prayers by the vibration in my pocket. I almost dropped the phone answering it, "Davidek! Please tell me you found her."
I heard the rushing wind and the roar of the Lincoln's engine being pushed past its limits. Davidek was driving Kit's car faster than it was used to. When Davidek spoke, I heard the firm control with fear around the edges, "Tell Sam to get the jet ready. I have Kit. She needs a hospital fast and not one around here, they will be looking for her."
I tightened my jaw to keep my emotions from spilling everywhere, "Is she..."
"Alive, yes. Barely. Claire, get Sam, get the jet ready. There isn't a hospital around here for miles. We are better off taking her home." I heard Davidek say something away from the phone, "It's a shit storm around here. Cops and feds are swarming the town and everywhere around a five mile radius. I’m about to pull into the airport, tell Mac to meet me on the runway."
Davidek hung up before I could speak. I pushed through the fear that was beginning to take hold and turned to Sam and Mac. "That was Davidek. He has Kit." I swallowed away the shakes in my voice, "Sam, I need you to get the jet ready now and ready to take off in the next five minutes. Mac, Davidek wants to you to meet him at the runway."
The two men jumped from their seats and ran out of the small office. I was close on their heels. My heart matching my feet as they pounding across the hardened dirt to the jet.
I went to climb in the jet after Sam and help him ready for take-off. The sound of tires squealing on the old asphalt grabbed my attention. I ducked out the door of the jet to see the Lincoln racing up to the jet, skidding to a stop next to the steps.
The driver side door flung open and Davidek threw himself out of the car, running to the passenger side, yelling at Mac. I ran down the stairs to meet Davidek, but stopped at the front end of the black car when I saw all the blood on his crisp white shirt. I clutched at my stomach, "Oh my god."
Davidek heard me, glancing up at me he waved me back, "Get on the jet Claire! Mac and I will get her."
As if on cue the jets engines roared to life. The wind began to blow my hair around, asking me in its own way to leave the area I stood in and get inside the jet, but I couldn't move. I had my eyes on Davidek when he lifted a limp, lifeless body covered in his black suit jacket. As he leaned out of the car and backed away, all I could see was her pale, bloodied face. My heart felt like it sto
pped, old memories of another time when I saw someone I cared about covered in blood, flooding in. This time it was amplified, because I was beyond in love with the lifeless woman in my best friend’s arms.
Davidek held Kit tightly against his chest as he ran to the jet, glancing back at me, yelling, "Now Claire! Get in the jet!"
I was frozen in place. Mac had to run up to me, grab me by the arm and pull me after him, breaking me free from the thoughts to drag me up the stairs. I tripped up the last few steps, stumbling into the jet to see Kit lying on the small couch behind the small table. The suit jacket was removed, tossed to the floor to reveal something I never hoped to see.
I covered my mouth when I saw the torn t-shirt and the piece of gauze that was soaked with a dark red through and through, on her stomach. Davidek jogged from the back of the jet, throwing a medical kit on the floor.
Dropping to his knees he began to rip through it, tossing gauze pads and bandages onto the couch at Kit's legs. He looked up at Mac, "Take the car. Clean it up and drive it back to Claire's townhouse. Call Alan, he will meet you with the clean-up van. Do it over in the barn behind the hangar here." Mac nodded and ran out of the jet.
Davidek's eyes moved to lock on mine. His eyes trying to issue the calm he saw I desperately needed, "You have to focus, Claire. I need Dr. Avondale." He motioned to Kit, still pale and lifeless, "She needs you." He slid gloves over his bloodstained hands, "I had to stuff the wound with as much gauze as I could find in the first aid kit in her car. There was so much blood." He picked at the red square stuck to Kit's stomach, "I didn't have the time to do more."
When the red square was moved, it revealed a four-inch gash stuffed with neat wads of gauze. I gasped at the sight, memories of Paris flashing in my mind. Blood, there was so much blood then, and so much blood now. Davidek stood up, grabbing my arms, yelling to break my trance, "She needs you! Focus on that and not the past Claire!"
I nodded slowly, shaking away the memories and the anxiety they brought with them. I went to Kit, Sam on the overhead speakers telling us to brace for a quick take off. Davidek shoved a pair of gloves into my hands, making me take a few breaths as I pulled them on, finding the doctor I was and needed to be in this moment. Not the woman in love and watching as her world was on the edge of death.
My hands went to the gash, pulling out the gauze one piece at a time. Each one was helping to bring me back to the reality I needed to be in. I moved faster, picking the rest out and blotting away the blood with a clean towel. I poked around the edges and saw the wound was still actively bleeding. I glanced at Davidek, "She is bleeding internally." I grabbed thick wads of gauze from his hands, pressing it in the wound against her. I shook my head, thinking about the equipment I didn't have and needed. I knew we could get back to a hospital in the capital within the next hour and half, but would Kit last that long? She wouldn't like this.
I closed my eyes, whispering, "She isn't going to make it." I swallowed hard, I had only one choice, I turned to look at a scared Davidek, "The silver briefcase under my seat, bring it over to me."
Davidek hopped up, ran to my seat and dug the briefcase out from under it. I looked over Kit, her skin was grey. She had a bump and laceration on the side of her head, her right eye was showing signs of bruising. I ran my hand slowly down her cheek, feeling how cold her skin was as her breathing was slowed down with each breath, her heart finding very little left to give. The sounds of her ragged breaths told me she had fluid in them. I lifted her shirt up more, cringing when I saw the thick purple color rising around her ribs. I picked up her limp hand, holding it tightly to fight from crying. The sight before me was choking my heart.
The silver briefcase was set on the couch next to Kit. I reluctantly let go of her hand to open the briefcase. When it was opened I moved quickly, pulling the silver box and a handful of glass vials out. I set one large glass vial into the small port in the middle of the silver box, then grabbed one needle to take some of Kit's blood left, hating that I was taking the last little bit she had left to give. I then injected her blood into the silver box. Thirty seconds later the glass vial filled completely with a violet liquid. I wasted no time in dropping the vial into an injection gun I had in the bottom of the silver case, injecting the serum right next to Kit's stomach wound.
I lifted the new piece of gauze that was soaked with blood, away. Staring down at the wound, I whispered at it. "Come on, come on." Willing it to work, willing it to save Kit.
I watched and waited, the empty vial clutched in my palm. I had not tested the healing serum on a wound this extensive, only bruises, minor ligament tears and small cuts. Thirty more seconds passed, and nothing.
I grew angry and threw the vial across the jet, hearing it shatter quietly against a cabinet. I held my hand against Kit's cheek, yelling at her as the tears began to fall, "You can't die on me, Kit! I have to yell at you for being stubborn and stupid!" I sobbed, "You can't die now, we've only had a few weeks together and I want a thousand years with you." I found her hand again, "I need you Kit. Fight." I pressed my lips to her cold fingers, closing my eyes as Sam announced we were forty-five minutes out from a D.C. airfield close to a hospital. I felt my tears fall onto her fingers to pool against my skin and her fingers.
"Claire, look." I felt Davidek’s hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. I slowly opened my eyes, looking at him and then where he pointed. "Look."
Kit's wound was slowly moving. The tissues moving to knit together, the bleeding stopping and the remaining blood in the wound seemed to absorb back into the tissue. The skin wiggled, coming back together at the top and bottom of the gash with the edges trying to reconnect. The skin moved for a few moments before it stopped, leaving a small open laceration that was no longer bleeding. Just a clean open wound was left behind.
I looked up at Kit, her skin pinking up, her breathing moving from gasps to slow but easy. Gone was the watery, cloudy sound from before.
Davidek reached up, checking her pulse, smiling as he looked at me, "It's stronger than it was." He squeezed my shoulder, "I think Kit is going to be okay."
I nodded, sniffling back tears, "Call Danny, tell him to meet us when we land. I can make bigger doses at home faster than the hospital can admit her and get her stabilized." I pressed Kit's hand against my cheek, smiling as it felt warmer, "Let's go home."
Davidek nodded, stood up and moved to the cockpit of the jet.
I held Kit's hand, watching every breath as it brought blood back to her skin, warmth through her body, and hope to my heart. I would hook her up to an IV of serum while I worked on a stronger dose. One that would heal all of her injuries, the broken bones, the bruises and the concussion. It would take a few days, but she would heal faster at home with me. I sighed, wiping at my wet cheeks, still holding her hand tightly.
A wave of emotions flooded my body, anger, relief, fear, love all swam hand in hand through my body. Giving me the realization that if Kit was ever completely lost to me, I would lose everything. My world and the one person and thing I could not live without.
Her.
I closed my eyes, promising silently I would find who did this to her and I would destroy them.
My eyes were slow to open. I was hot, groggy and my body tingled. Trying to move and open my eyes, I wondered if I was drunk and was in the longest and strangest alcohol induced dream ever. Flashes of fire, sounds of gunshots with red and white faces flickered across my eyelids each time I blinked. My throat was dry and raw, making it painful to swallow.
I could feel I was in bed. A soft, warm bed in a room I couldn’t decide if it was a familiar one by the dark walls and lack of windows. I went to push up to sit, but was stopped by a sore tugging sensation in my right arm. I squinted with one open eye at the IV needle taped into the vein in my elbow with two thin tubes coming out of the port and trailing up to the fat IV bags hanging on a hook above the headboard. One bag was filled with a dark violet liquid and the other with a clear liquid. My eye moved back down the tube
s to a glass of water on the table next to my bed.
The simple sight of a glass of water made my thirst desperate. I reached for the glass, wobbly, tired fingers grazing the curved side. Pushing the glass away from me. I groaned, making my body stretch sore muscles to get closer to the glass.
A hand came from the side of my vision, stilling the glass before I pushed it completely off the table. I spoke, my voice just above a whisper, "Water."
The hand caught mine, moving it back to the bed gently. "I'll sit you up, then get you water, Kit." I felt another hand move softly on my side, lift me up with little effort to rest against the headboard. The bed shifted when someone sat down, the hands picking up the glass of water to hold it up to my lips. I was so thirsty I could only focus my eyes on the glass. Drinking the cold wet water greedily and sloppily.
"Easy, easy." I barely heard the voice, my gulps of water filling the air.
The water helped to ease my desert of a throat and clear up blurry vision. I blinked a few times, Davey smiling tightly coming into focus with every blink. He looked exhausted but relieved. I smiled back, remembering things, a lot of things. "You found me."
Davey nodded curtly, "Yes I did." He held the glass up, letting me take a slower drink. "How are you feeling?"
I leaned against the headboard, "Like I have the biggest hangover ever or I am still drunk." I rolled my head, looking around the room, "What hospital am I in?" I scrunched my forehead, my entire head throbbing with my heart. I swallowed down a less dry throat, "Claire..."
Redemptio Animae Page 53