Then they all heard it.
A soft, scratching sound coming from outside. Someone was moving in the shrubbery beneath the window.
Someone who was trying to avoid detection.
CHAPTER FOUR
'Put that away!'
Fliss was appalled at the speed with which Seth had drawn a revolver from its holster and primed it for action.
'You're not going to shoot someone in my surgery.'
'He's trying to protect you,' Angus snapped. 'There's someone outside. Get down on the floor, Fliss.'
Maria couldn't very well cower on the floor, could she, with her whole leg in a splint and an IV line tying her to the bed? Fliss felt her patient reaching out for her hand in fear and she grabbed it back and squeezed. Hard.
'I'm not going anywhere,' she announced.
'Shh!' Seth had his back to the wall but was inching sideways, presumably to peer through the gap left at the edge of the window by the ill-fitting curtains.
The rattle at the door of the surgery sounded far too loud a second later in the tense silence. Fliss jumped. Maria gasped in horror.
'Fliss!'
The croaky call was a kind of whispered shout. Impossible to identify.
'You in there, lass?'
'It's Jack,' Fliss said in relief. 'Let him in—quickly!'
But neither of the men moved. Judging by the way Angus tilted his head and then touched the spot where the balaclava covered an earpiece, they were both listening to a message coming through their communication system.
'Roger,' Seth said quietly. 'Anything else on the move?'
'Fliss!'
The call was louder. More urgent.
'Oh, for heaven's sake!' Fliss let go of Maria's hand and marched into the waiting area. She had unlocked the door and was about to pull it open when Angus grabbed her arm and hauled her to one side.
'But it's Jack,' she protested.
'Are you sure about that?'
'Of course I'm sure. He's the only person around here that ever calls me "lass".'
Silence again. Just for a heartbeat. And then another. Jack might be the only person in this vicinity who used the Scottish term as an endearment but it had been as much a part of Angus McBride's vocabulary as his soft accent.
A softly spoken word that had slipped out more than once, usually in conjunction with whispered words of love to cloak her heart when she'd lain in his arms at night in those early, blissful days of their love affair.
Too long ago.
Far enough away in time and place to have been on a different planet. It shouldn't be enough to fuel those smouldering embers but it was. Fliss had to break eye contact with Angus. Had to look away before she revealed something she didn't even want to admit to herself.
'Right.' A terse word that dismissed anything remotely personal.
Angus opened the door so swiftly that Jack almost fell into the waiting room. He wasn't very well balanced in any case, because he had his single arm around the waist of a small boy whose arms were wrapped around the old man's neck.
'You found him.' Fliss reached out, barely aware of Angus shutting and relocking the door. 'Is it Cody? Is he all right?'
'Callum.' Jack relinquished his burden and then bent forward, supporting himself with his hand on a knee as he struggled for breath. 'Hurt...Must have been... first....to get shot.'
The six-year-old boy whimpered. 'My tummy hurts,' he told Fliss.
It was hard to know what to do first. Jack looked terrible, gasping for air and barely able to stay upright, but Fliss had her arms full with a child who was in pain and potentially badly injured.
'I'll take the boy.' Strong arms lifted Callum from her arms. 'You bring Jack in.'
The consulting room was suddenly far too small. With a sweep of his arm Angus cleared Fliss's desk and laid Callum on the hard wooden surface.
'Sit down here, Jack,' Fliss told the old man. 'Against the wall. I'll get a pillow to help you sit forward a bit.'
He needed oxygen urgently. Far more than the token amount Maria was receiving through the nasal cannula.
'I'm going to take this off for a minute,' Fliss warned her first patient. 'Jack needs oxygen more than you do at the moment but I've got another cylinder in the storeroom when we get sorted.'
'Go for it,' Maria urged. She cast an anxious glance at the new patients in the surgery. 'I'm fine.'
Fliss attached a high concentration mask to the cylinder and slipped the elastic band over Jack's head.
'Don't try and talk,' she warned him. 'Let's get your breathing sorted first.'
Jack nodded. He looked at though he was trying to smile beneath the mask but the effort was half-hearted. He looked exhausted. His eyes were half-shut and what little skin she could see between smears of boot polish looked grey. How hard must it have been for him to carry a child? With the episode of worsening heart failure Jack had at present, it could have been enough to kill him. Still could.
But he had found Callum. And brought him to Fliss for treatment. It was only now that he was allowing his body to register the toll taken. Fliss found herself squeezing another hand.
'You did it, Jack. I'm so proud of you.'
Fliss could feel the glance that flashed in her direction from where Angus was making a preliminary examination of Callum. A raised eyebrow sort of glance, as though he was surprised—or disapproving, perhaps, of the bond Fliss might have with a rather disreputable-looking patient. The glance barely registered, however. They both had far too much else to think about.
The return squeeze of her hand that Fliss received from Jack was encouraging but there was no time to register pleasure either. Fliss felt as though she had stepped into an entire emergency department full of patients urgently needing her care. Her brain focussed sharply but she could feel compartments forming. It was possible to do more than one thing at once and still do it well when you had these kinds of adrenaline levels flowing.
Jack needed the life-pack electrodes on so she could see a trace of his heart rhythm. He needed an IV line and a hefty dose of diuretic on board. If his breathing became any more laboured he would require help with a ventilator mask, and if his blood pressure was still at an acceptably high level Fliss would add nitrates to the drugs she would use to combat the heart failure. Some morphine might help as well but the risk of respiratory arrest had to be taken into account. Covering bases in case there was an underlying cardiac event causing the failure also had to be considered. Aspirin. Anticoagulation. Subcutaneous heparin, possibly?
A plan of action for Jack formed as Fliss listened to his chest with her stethoscope but her gaze was on the man bending over the child on her desk.
'How's Callum looking, Gus?' Fliss didn't even notice she had used the shortened form of his name that only people close to him were invited to use.
'Abdominal wound. Looks like a gunshot. I can't see any exit wound so I'm assuming the bullet's still in there somewhere.'
Callum whimpered loudly.
'Sorry, buddy,' Angus said quietly. 'I know it hurts, mate.'
Fliss knew that the paramedic's touch would be as gentle as his words. She had seen him work with children. She had once thought what an amazing father he would make. But she couldn't afford to devote mental energy to anything more than a fleeting gratitude that he was here to help right now. And that he would be the best person to help look after a sad and frightened small boy.
'Blood pressure?' she queried briskly.
'Haven't taken it yet. Radial pulse is present but weak. He's tachycardic.'
He would be bleeding internally. The only unknown was how bad that bleeding was. Having a radial pulse still present wasn't as reassuring in a child as it would have been in an adult. Children could compensate well with even massive blood loss for some time. Then they could crash. Catastrophically.
'Can you get some fluids started, please?'
'I'm just looking for a vein,' Angus responded. 'I'd like to get some morphine on board as well
.'
'There's IV gear in that first drawer of the cabinet beside the bed and there's more in the storeroom. First shelf on the right as you go in. Could you bring me an 18-gauge cannula and a tourniquet, too, please?'
'Sure.'
'And I'll need an alcohol wipe and a saline flush.'
'Of course.'
Fliss felt her tension ease just a fraction. She hadn't needed to tell Angus what else she needed. He knew. As far as stabilising a critically injured patient in an environment away from an emergency department, he was just as qualified as she was. And a lot more experienced. Her relief at having him working by her side increased several notches.
She moved to lift the life pack from its shelf beside the examination table, sparing just a second to check on Maria.
'How are you feeling?'
'Not so bad. The morphine's helped a lot. My leg doesn't hurt much at all at the moment.'
'Good. Anything else bothering you?'
Stupid question. Maria's wry smile acknowledged the enormity of what was bothering them all. It also let Fliss know that her energies needed to be directed towards what was happening within the walls of their haven rather than the unknown danger outside.
The life pack was set on the floor beside Jack, and Fliss swiftly attached the electrodes. The rhythm that appeared on the small screen wasn't comforting. Jack's heart was struggling to provide enough oxygen to keep itself, let alone the rest of his body, functioning well.
Angus dropped a handful of IV gear beside her on his way back to the desk and for several minutes they worked separately on their patients, concentrating on finding venous access and getting fluids and medications started.
'Keep really still for me, mate,' Angus encouraged Callum. 'You'll feel a wee scratch on your arm.'
'OK, Jack. I'm going to give you some medication now,' Fliss said. 'We're going to get on top of this soon, I promise.'
It wasn't an empty promise. At least it wouldn't be if there was anything humanly possible Fliss could do. And even if it was, Jack needed the reassurance. It was as much a part of the treatment as anything else.
Angus and Fliss got each other to check the drugs they administered. Diuretics and nitrates for Jack, pain relief and anti-nausea for Callum.
'We need something more comfortable to put Callum on,' Angus said eventually.
Fliss nodded. She wanted to make Jack more comfortable as well. There was no question of moving Maria from the bed and they had no idea how long it would be until they could evacuate their patients. Or whether they would end up with more people to treat before this was over. Innovation was called for.
'We could get rid of the chairs from the waiting room,' Fliss suggested. 'And get the mattress and pillows from my bed in the cottage. There's all the squabs and cushions from the couch and armchairs as well.'
'What do you reckon, Seth?' Angus looked to his colleague for a second opinion.
'You don't need to go outside?'
'Not if we can unlock the interior door from this side,' Fliss told him. 'I think there's a spare key in my desk drawer.'
'You find the key. I'll check with the boss and then make sure the house is safe to enter if we get the go-ahead.'
Opening the desk drawer made Callum open drowsy eyes. 'Dr Fliss?'
'Hi, sweetheart. How's that tummy feeling now?'
'Better.' But the child's eyes filled with tears. 'Why did Darren shoot me?'
'It was Darren that shot you?' Although the suspicion had been there, it was shocking to think that someone who was a part of this small community could have done such a thing.
Seth had stopped his quiet words into the microphone attached to his collar. He was listening intently to Callum, who nodded solemnly.
A fat tear rolled down his cheek. 'He said we were spying on him and that we were going to tell, but we weren't. We were just riding our bikes.'
'We'.
Fliss brushed the tear away. 'I know, darling.' She tried to keep her voice steady. 'Where's Cody, do you know? Was... was he hurt, too?'
'I don't know.' More tears flowed. 'He started crying and ran away.' A sob made him choke on the last words. 'I want him back. And I want Mum.'
'I know.' Fliss stroked his forehead and bent to drop a kiss onto damp skin beneath blond curls. The twins were identical. And inseparable. Fliss had never seen one of the boys alone before. 'But don't worry. We're going to take care of you until we find everyone else.'
She turned to Seth. 'Can you let someone know that there's another six-year-old boy out there? He needs to be found.'
Seth nodded.
'Any word on how soon we're going to be able to evacuate patients?'
'Negative. Risk of moving anybody is too high at present.'
'I don't like him.' Callum seemed to be pointing at both Angus and Seth. 'He's got a gun.'
'Only so he can look after us, buddy.' Angus stepped closer, 'I haven't got a gun. Honest.'
Fliss fished the key out from beneath a layer of paper clips and ballpoint pens in the drawer as Callum responded to Angus and stopped crying. The soothing words continued and as Fliss handed the key to Seth, she could see that the boy was almost asleep. The fact he was happier was good but not reassuring.
Callum needed urgent investigations. A CT scan. A laparotomy. It would be wishful thinking to hope that he had a bullet in his abdomen that had miraculously missed doing any damage to major vessels or vital organs. If an artery had been clipped or his spleen or liver damaged, the child could bleed to death and there would be nothing Fliss could do to prevent it. Her surgery was not equipped for anything other than minor procedures and Fliss was not a surgeon.
For the first time since she had fled the city, Fliss longed to be back in the brightly lit and often chaotic environment of a large emergency department. One with back-up available. Experts in any field she could need. Equipment and technology. Operating theatres and intensive care. Angus had the advantage over her here. At least he was used to working away from a hospital. Relying on the equipment and skills he had readily available. Fliss was going to need him to help her through this.
It was possible that Angus would need her support as well. He might look as though he was used to dealing with this kind of situation but Fliss knew that paramedic protocols called for evacuation to the nearest hospital at the earliest possible opportunity for seriously injured patients, and right now that wasn't on the agenda.
When Seth had checked the inside of the cottage, Fliss quickly moved several chairs and replaced them with squabs and cushions. She grabbed some towels and sheets from the meagre contents of her linen cupboard. The two sofa squabs made a bed just the right size for a six-year-old child. Angus gently lifted the sleepy boy and placed him on the makeshift bed.
'I'll need some help with the mattress,' Fliss said. 'Seth?'
'I need to keep watch on the street.'
'Angus?'
'Sure. Let's go.'
'Wait.' Fliss was reluctant to leave the surgery with no medic in attendance even if it was only going to be for a minute or two. 'I just want to check on everybody again, first.'
It was like a rapid-fire, mini ward round, with a quick set of vital-sign measurements and an assessment of the current condition on all their charges. They were all drowsy. Maria's pain medication was still effective and her blood pressure had risen slightly which was good. Jack was exhausted but the probe on his finger that allowed the life pack to record the level of oxygen saturation in his blood revealed a significant improvement. His heart rate had slowed to a more normal level as well.
'We're going to get a mattress, Jack, and make you a lot more comfortable.'
'No need.' Jack's voice was muffled by a mask that looked full of boot-polish-stained beard. 'I'm fine.'
'You will be,' Fliss responded. 'But only if you do what you're told.'
The next word from her patient was clear enough to elicit a quick grin from Angus.
'Bossy!'
Callum was
asleep but roused when Fliss pressed her hand gently to his belly.
'Ow-w.'
'Sorry, love. I just need to check what's going on.' She caught Angus's gaze. 'Abdo's still soft. Pain's more upper right quadrant, which is well away from the entry wound.'
He nodded. 'Spleen, you reckon?'
'Quite possibly.' Fliss slipped a hand beneath Callum and he moaned again. 'I think there's rib involvement, too.' She pulled her stethoscope from around her neck. 'Chest's clear,' she announced a short time later. 'Equal air entry but remind me to keep a close watch on it, will you?'
'Sure.' Angus deflated the blood-pressure cuff. 'Seventy-eight on fifty.'
'No change, then.' It was still just sitting on the lowest end of a normal range for a child his age. Fliss chewed the inside of her lip for a second. They were all stable. For now. She looked at Seth. 'Can you watch him, please? And the others? Yell if anything at all changes.'
Seth gave a single nod. 'Don't turn on any lights. Just take the torch like you did last time.'
The interior door of the surgery opened into a laundry area with a washing machine and drier. That led into the kitchen and then the narrow central hallway from which four doors opened. Two bedrooms, one of which was used as an office, a sitting room and a bathroom.
The irony of leading Angus directly to her bedroom was not lost on Fliss. He would have to be the last person she had expected in this house, let alone a room that could only remind them both of how close they had once to been.
It didn't help that the light from the tiny torch flickered as she entered her bedroom. Her forward movement faltered long enough for Angus to bump into her from behind.
'Sorry.'
He had caught her arms to prevent her from stumbling. Fliss could feel the strength in his hands. Could feel how close he was as he pulled her back so she could regain her balance.
Fliss could feel the barrier of the bullet-proof vest he wore. A solid wall between their bodies. It should have been enough to remind her of why things hadn't worked and could never work.
But it didn't.
For a moment Fliss had to fight the urge to turn. To put her arms around his neck and have Angus hold her close. To feel that ultimate bliss of loving...and being loved.
One Night to Wed Page 5