The Rainbow Maker's Tale

by Mel Cusick-Jones

  Cassie nodded, nothing more. Something inside me just knew that she wanted me to say this: wanted me to confess how I felt about her. There were no illusions, no distractions or questions in that moment: just us. I leaned closer – to kiss her – and found myself laughing again. I had never felt this happy – or free – in my existence…

  Then everything changed.

  In the instant I sensed that Cassie wanted the same thing as me, I felt something else. Something very wrong.

  There was the smallest movement in the ground beneath me: so tiny that I almost missed it. Then a moment later a second, much bigger shift, nearly knocked me to the floor and I found my body automatically reacting before I could consciously evaluate what was going on. I levered myself backwards, away from the edge of the plateau and tried to pull Cassie closer to me, but it was too late.

  A loud crack exploded through the tense silence that had built up around us and instead of pulling Cassie’s body towards mine as I’d been intending to, I found her being jerked away. Cassie’s left arm had already slipped from my loose grip and I sensed, rather than saw, that there was nothing beneath her feet where the rock ledge had been a moment earlier.

  It felt as though every muscle in my body tensed in that one instant. As Cassie fell away from me, my grip became a vice on her right arm.

  This can’t be happening again!

  My mind was screaming as I watched Cassie twist in the air beneath me, turning around to look upwards as she dropped. In her eyes I saw the same shock I’d seen in Scarlett’s.

  “NO!” I cried, throwing myself forward. This would not happen again!

  My left hand joined the right one and locked around Cassie’s arm. For one instant there was nothing, then the pull of her full weight knocked me off my feet and I crashed painfully into the remnants of the rock shelf. She jerked to a stop beneath me, a terrible cry screeching out of her chest, the sound infused with agony.

  Every muscle in my upper body screamed at me to let go: I couldn’t hold that much weight.

  I’m not letting go! I screamed right back.

  My shoulders bunched forwards as my elbows scraped agonisingly across the ragged ground. I’m not letting go, I told myself again and held on tighter, using my own pain to help me focus on my muscles and work them harder.

  Blinking away the tears and sweat that were blurring my vision, I looked down at Cassie. The arm I held on to was completely wrong: twisting at the shoulder unnaturally as though it were a loose thread not flesh and bone. Beneath her there was nothing, except air. Then forty metres below that, the rocky base of the hillside, filled with more broken stone resin.

  “CASSIE!” I shouted out, trying to catch her attention as her head lolled dangerously to the side. If she blacked out now she would die.

  “Cassie!” I yelled again and she opened her eyes. “I’ve got you!”

  In those few seconds, I felt her begin to slide again: my hands were too close together and I needed to get a better grip. A shadow of doubt crossed Cassie’s face as she sensed the movement. That wasn’t good: I needed her to trust me… Squeezing more tightly with my left hand – trying not to imagine what further damage I might be doing to her body in the process – I managed to replace my right hand around Cassie’s wrist. My muscles protested, but I had her more securely at least.

  “Cassie?!” I shouted again. It was obvious her attention was drifting, but this time she looked up to me. For the first time I saw her face properly: her pale skin was ashen, small grazes gleamed pinky-red on her cheeks, perhaps where stray stone fragments had hit her as she fell, or where she’d hit the rock face beneath. A fog of pain and fear blurred her normally bright eyes, but I could still read the questions there: they burned into me.

  “I’m going to get you out of this Cassie,” I promised. It was the truth, because I would save her or die trying and I knew it. Dragging a deep breath into my tight lungs I gripped harder than ever, preparing to move.

  Barely able to speak through my clenched teeth, I managed to utter: “once I get you higher, you can grab onto the ledge with your good arm.”

  Cassie nodded: a single, small movement.

  It was enough for me and I pulled as hard as I could, trying lever myself backwards using the flat rock beneath me to drag her higher.

  On the first attempt Cassie barely moved. My arms scraped across the rock edge, ripping the material of my day-suit even more and tearing into my flesh. Ignoring the new burst of pain, I pushed myself onto my knees and found that this position gave me greater purchase and allowed my leg muscles to help me lift so it wasn’t all in my arms. Digging in, I heaved even harder. This time Cassie rose several centimetres higher.

  From then on my eyes never left Cassie’s face: I watched her fighting to remain conscious; holding back the screams that I could only imagine were threatening to burst out of her body. As her fingers passed above the edge of the rock for the first time, she reached upwards with her left arm and found a handhold on the rock lip. Her knuckles turned blue-white as her fingers gripped, claw-like around the edge of the plateau.

  Once again Cassie’s eyes found mine and I nodded to let her know I was ready. It would take both of us to do this now. Sucking in a deep breath I tugged firmly on her arm. At the same time she pulled hard against the rock, her left hand levering her body upwards. With Cassie helping me, my actions became much more effective and she shot forwards, her scream of determination blending with my own exhausted grunt. As her shoulders and upper body re-appeared I took hold of her left arm and pulled her nearer, getting a grip on the back of her day-suit. With one last tug, I stood up, hauling Cassie’s legs to safety as I went. A second later I staggered to the side and dropped to my knees.

  Chapter 8

  Cassie’s small body lay motionless beside me. If it were not for the low, shallow breaths dragging into her chest every now and then I would have thought she was dead. She was unconscious.

  A single trickle of blood seeped from a wound buried in her hairline and ran across her temple onto her cheek. Her arms were worse: the normally pale skin now looked a sickly green-white beneath the large smears of blood. Amongst the red were darker, black patches where she had been torn by deep scratches and cuts.

  I felt numb and sick and helpless. A random part of me also felt grateful, for the physical enhancements I made a few weeks ago. Without them I wouldn’t have caught Cassie, or been able to pull her to safety. Without the benefit of pain suppression, I might have dropped her… Perhaps, I also reacted faster than I would have done before…? There were many questions, but no clear answers. They would have to wait.

  A short while later – seconds or a minute at most although it felt much longer – the shock faded. Another burst of adrenaline kicked through my system and spurred me into action. I was not hurt, although the muscles in my shoulders and arms burned from their recent exertion, and so I moved quickly, beginning an examination of Cassie’s injuries.

  Check the head wound first, then look for any bleeding.

  I tried to remain calm and remember the emergency training I’d taken at The Clinic.

  Without moving her, I gingerly probed the gash beneath Cassie’s hair, lifting the blood-red matted strands away so I could see properly. I tried not to inhale the coppery smell that overpowered the citrus fragrance I’d noticed earlier. Seeing the blood of someone I cared about, seeping out of their damaged body was so much worse than practising on strangers. My hands were bathed in red and the sight of it made me sick.

  Shaking my head, I attempted to focus. The abrasion was still bleeding, but did not look deep. I wondered vaguely whether Cassie had banged into the underside of the rock shelf as she fell… I moved on without really trying to answer my own question. Around the edges of the cut, the thin layer of flesh that stretched across Cassie’s skull was already swelling and I knew she would have a painful lump. Thankfully, it did not look too serious and I was sure it was not the reason she had blacked out.

 
; I glanced towards Cassie’s right arm. It was angled oddly away from her body, the forearm pointing upwards. I was positive it was dislocated.

  De ja vu.

  A similar image of another girl, in this same park flashed before my eyes. There was no blood on that girl, but the unnatural position of the limbs was almost identical.

  “Cassie?” I asked softly, hoping for, but not anticipating, a response. I got what I expected and continued my examination. “Please Cassie – if you can hear my voice…Cassie, please show me if you can hear me…”

  I’m so sorry I brought you here…this is all my fault…

  “…not your fault.”

  It was just a whisper: words uttered on a breath of air, but I was sure I’d heard them. My gaze snapped to Cassie’s face, but her eyes were still closed, her lips frozen. Had she spoken to me? Had she answered? It sounded like she said “not your fault.”

  “Cassie?”

  There was no response. Her breathing was becoming more regular, though. At least I thought it was, perhaps it was hope colouring my assessment more positively, as there was still no obvious movement from her.

  Ripping away a clean piece of fabric from the back of my ruined clinic-suit I pressed it against some of the darkest patches on Cassie’s arms, soaking away the blood to try and see how bad the damage was. The cuts were messy and still bleeding, but none of them looked deep enough for stitches. A couple of them were long gashes and I tore away more fabric to wrap around them to slow the blood flow.

  It was not good that she was still unconscious – how long had it been now…three minutes…five? I couldn’t tell and felt panic welling up as my mind started running through the possible extent of her injuries: paralysis, coma, brain damage…

  I shouldn’t have brought you here…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…

  Pressing my fingers lightly to the side of her neck into the hollow below her jaw-line I searched for a pulse. It was light and irregular.

  Please be OK…it’s all my fault…I’m sorry…

  “Cassie? Can you hear me – Cassie?” I implored, my voice louder than before.

  “…I’m trying…stop being sorry”

  This time I saw her lips moving. Cassie was muttering. Her words might be slurring together, barely discernable, but she was definitely talking. Telling me to stop being sorry. Had I actually said that aloud?

  “Cassie…Cassie?” I was becoming desperate – I wanted to take hold of her shoulders and shake her to wakefulness, to prove that she was alive, but I couldn’t do that. She looked so fragile and broken already; she would probably fall apart.

  Can you even hear me? I pleaded, moving my lips closer to her ears. “Cassie?” I’m sorry…I need you to come back…

  A sigh passed through her lips. At first I thought it was just her shallow breathing still, but then it was followed by a light groan. “I’m coming…I’m coming…”

  What was she saying? It sounded as if she was dreaming, rather than responding to my voice. Her words didn’t really make sense. I was sure she’d said I’m coming. But, I hadn’t asked her to come back…I’d only wished it, only thought it.

  “Cassie,” I leaned closer still, searching for more signs. Her eyelids flickered but remained closed as though she was struggling to fight off unconsciousness, but trying hard. Her eyelashes fluttered – more forcefully this time.

  “Cassie – can you hear me?”

  More movement: she was coming round. A loud groan creaked out of her throat, as she became aware of the pain. “Shhhhh,” I stroked the hair gently away from her face trying to soothe her. In the next moment Cassie’s eyes blinked rapidly, suddenly opening wide and then closing quickly against the shock of the daylight.

  “It hurts,” she whispered, her voice cracking over the words

  The sound of her voice! My chest flooded with relief.

  “Cassie! Thank goodness!!” I shouted the words realising, too late, how close I was to her ear and half-deafening her.

  “Too loud,” she complained weakly, her eyes still closed. When she opened them – squinting into the light – I felt her gaze searching for me and leaned close once more, trying to shield her from the brightness. Cassie examined me thoroughly as though I was the injured person, before shutting her eyes again, grimacing as if it hurt her just to move that small part of her body.

  “You look awful,” she muttered.

  I laughed – half-bitter, half-relieved. Apart from the relief, which filled me like oxygen, I felt empty – completely drained – now the adrenaline was leaving my body.

  “You know, you don’t look so great yourself right now.” I tried to put her at ease, but the joke fell flat. My eyes were burning with tears of shock and happiness, but I was determined not let them fall. What would she think of me if I cried?

  Then – to my disbelief and horror – Cassie started trying to roll over.

  “Can you help me up?” she asked, her voice sounding more normal every time she spoke.

  “Hold on a minute, don’t move,” I reached forward, pulling her gently back. “We need to make sure you don’t do any more damage. Your shoulder is a real mess.” There was only one sensible option and I knew it. “We’ll have to get you to The Clinic to get everything checked over. The one in the Red Zone is closest, so we could go there…” That was going to be a difficult conversation: how to explain where we’d been without a lot of unwanted questions. But that didn’t matter – I’d have to deal with the consequences later – Cassie needed treatment.

  I was surprised when she shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. There’ll be lots of questions and they’ll contact our parents. It’s not worth it.”

  “What do you suggest?” I argued back immediately, ignoring the fact I’d just been thinking exactly the same thing.

  I knew I shouldn’t be angry with Cassie – I wasn’t really – I just felt useless. It wasn’t like I had any ideas of my own, but the events of the last few minutes had left me an absolute wreck. I tried again.

  “You can’t walk around with a dislocated shoulder – I think people will notice.” It wasn’t my best attempt: I came off sounding more sarcastic than concerned.

  “You can do it,” Cassie said.

  For a moment or two I had no idea what her words actually meant. Did she want me to go for help and bring them back here?

  Then I realised what she was saying. She wanted me to realign her shoulder. The shock of that idea had barely registered with me, but she was already talking again.

  “You’ve done your first couple of modules in the Emergency Medicine rotation.”

  I was incredulous. Cassie spoke as if she was asking me to take a look at a splinter in her finger. “Are you kidding?!” There were just no other words for how stupid an idea it was. “Your shoulder could be broken, not dislocated, or even both! I can’t do that – I could hurt you even more!”

  “You just pulled me over the edge of cliff!” she retorted with a scoff, “I’m sure you can do this. Joel and I did the basic training for Field Medicine on the second day of our rotation.”

  Yeah, well – I’m sure Joel would be the perfect person for this situation…

  I shook my head to silence the jealous voice because it wasn’t helping. There was being brave and there was just plain stupid. I might be feeling shell-shocked from everything that had happened in the last few minutes, but I was pretty sure that what Cassie was suggesting was the latter of those two things.

  “Two days of Field Medicine training does not quite match up with a clinic full of equipment and trained Medics.” I didn’t bother disguising my feelings. Perhaps I spoke more harshly because – despite my words – a small part of me agreed with Cassie’s motives for trying to keep this a secret.

  Of course, Cassie was right: we would get into a lot of trouble for coming here, no matter how good an excuse we found for how she got injured. The scanner at the park entrance would have logged us coming inside and so even if we lied about where
Cassie had gotten hurt, they would still probably investigate here. I had too much history in this place; literally too many secrets buried in the park, to risk losing it. But those secrets were my reasons – not hers.

  Why was she so concerned with being examined properly?

  “You can do it,” Cassie insisted, interrupting my thoughts and searching my face until she found my eyes and fixed me in an unwavering, emerald spotlight. If nothing else, her determination was persuasive. “You can do this,” she repeated, as though sensing I might waiver if she was convincing enough.

  Pushing aside my own selfish concerns – as well as the questions I had about what had happened when Cassie was unconscious – I paused to consider her request. Could I do this?

  Self-doubt was not something I was too familiar with – conceited I know – but I’d always just seemed to know what I was good at, and been able to sense where my limits lay. If we were in The Clinic and it was someone else, I’d probably be jumping at the chance to test my skills. This was different. We didn’t have the luxury of diagnosis equipment, medicines or experienced teachers to help. And it was Cassie. The thought of doing this – doing anything that might hurt her – made me feel physically sick.

  Before I made my decision I needed to know that Cassie understood what she was asking me to do. “What if it’s not just dislocated?” My voice lost some of its conviction as Cassie was already brushing off my protest before I’d finished speaking. Maybe I could appeal to her practical side… “You should have a bone scan and some pain relief before anything is done. I don’t even like the idea of moving you from here in the first place – maybe I should just go and call for an emergency team?”

  “You know a shoulder dislocation can often be more easily reduced in the period of time immediately following the injury when the muscles are not yet in spasm.”