Authors: Jana Oliver
Tangled Souls (44 page)
You’re just about there
, the firefighter reported, and gave her cheery smile.
“I better be. I don’t have much more—”
She heard voices, real ones.
“Hey!”
There was a pause, and a shout returned. She heard more voices and the grating sound of debris being shifted.
“We’re coming!” she heard. Behind her the tunnel began to cave in, foot by foot, advancing toward her, shoving dirt and dust forward.
A sudden burst of light erupted above her, beaming down like a light from heaven.
“Oh, whoa, that hurts,” she said, shielding her eyes. They teared immediately, washing out some of the grit.
“Hello?” a male voice called.
“Yo,” she shouted. She immediately thought of Seamus. “Spring me!” she called. The blood on her face cracked as she grinned. She just might live long enough to feed that parrot a few more blueberries.
A pause, and then more noise. The light grew brighter, and once Gavenia’s eyes adjusted, she realized she must be in some sort of coal chute. She looked around for her guide. He was behind her now.
You’ll be okay. They’ll help you out
, he said, clearly pleased with himself.
“But what about you?”
I don’t know what to do.
Gavenia thought for a moment and then motioned. “Follow me. It’s my turn to rescue you.”
He gave her a big grin and a thumbs-up. She matched it and waited for his living comrades to figure out how to bring her aboveground.
The firefighter who helped her maneuver out of the coal chute was a hunk. Absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.
“Never fails,” she muttered as she wiggled her way out onto the pavement like a beached red whale. She only met guys like that when seriously indisposed. Like the car accident in Wales. One of the rescuers had been Scottish, quite handsome, with an accent that would have melted any woman’s heart and made her catapult into his bed. He’d talked to her the entire time they dismantled the car, telling her jokes, keeping her calm. She could still hear his voice as plainly as if he were standing next to her.
“Backboard!” someone called. She felt something hard slide underneath her and then she was moving away from the building at a quick pace. It didn’t make much sense until the low rumble behind her.
“Get clear!” someone shouted, and there was a scramble.
When they finally set her on the ground, she looked back over her shoulder. The coal chute was buried under a mountain of broken bricks.
“Too close,” she whispered, and then relaxed on the backboard. It felt oddly comfortable after her night in the pit. The fresh air delivered a high, like a toke of good pot or three strong martinis. She’d felt this before: the bliss of survival.
A paramedic knelt at her side. “Any allergies?” he asked.
“Falling buildings,” she retorted. That got her a chuckle.
“Open your eyes for a second.” She did as ordered and promptly got a light shone in them.
“How do they look?” she asked.
“They’re a really nice shade of blue,” he said. “I don’t see any sign of a head injury, but they’ll make sure at the hospital.”
“Of course they will,” she said.
He rattled off a series of questions, examining her neck, chest, arms, and down both legs.
“Nothing feels broken,” she said.
“That would be amazing. But they’ll make sure—”
“At the hospital,” Gavenia recited. She knew that drill all too well.
An oxygen cannula wedged itself into her nose. A few deep breaths gave her even more of a high.
Her ethereal firefighter leaned over and gave her another thumbs-up. She returned it. The paramedic, not realizing it wasn’t meant for him, gave her one as well. He turned his back on her, extracting tubing and a needle out of his kit.
Knowing she had only a brief moment before he returned, she pointed with a trembling hand. “You see it?” she whispered.
The firefighter’s soul looked into the distance, and a calm smile spread over his face.
I do.
Thank you for saving my life.
Tell my wife and daughter I love them.
I will
.
Be at peace.
He strode away into the light as Gavenia closed her eyes.
She felt the cold sting of fluid as the paramedic vainly tried to clean a place on her arm. The needle stick barely register.
A hand touched her opposite arm, and her aunt leaned close to her.
“Good Goddess, girl, what have you been doing?” Lucy asked with a mock frown. The chiding was for Gavenia’s benefit, as there were tears hatching in her eyes.
“Not much. How about you?” Gavenia said.
Lucy leaned over to hug her and then apparently thought better of it. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Not bad.”
She didn’t see the Irish guy. What if Glass had shot him? What if he was buried in there and she hadn’t known it? “O’Fallon?” she asked, the euphoria vanishing in an instant. “Please tell me he’s okay.”
“He’s with the cops. They took him to the precinct. They wouldn’t let him stay.”
She frowned at that. “But he didn’t do anything.”
“Don’t worry; Llew’s with him.”
“What about. . . Adam?”
“He’s at the hospital. He was shot.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“From what I hear.”
“And the other bastard?” Gavenia asked coldly.
“He’s in bad shape. They’re not sure if he’ll make it.”
“He won’t,” Gavenia said.
Taylor will make sure of it.
“Ari’s on a plane back from Portland. The flights were grounded until an hour ago. She’s in a . . . bit of a state.”
Gavenia rolled her eyes. “I can only imagine.”
The paramedic posed a couple more questions and, after Gavenia answered to his satisfaction, he turned his attention back to the IV.
Her aunt hit speed dial on her cell phone. “Here, tell Llew you’re okay,” handing the phone over to Gavenia. She fumbled until she got it near her ear.
“Gavenia?”
“In the flesh.”
“How are you?”
“Filthy, cranky, and seriously in need of a sugar fix,” she said. A hearty laugh echoed down the phone. She heard him repeat what she’d said to someone. That person laughed as well. It was O’Fallon.
“Hold on. Someone wants to yell at you.” There was a pause, during which Llew must have handed the phone over to the Irishman.
“Gavenia? What the hell took you so long?” O’Fallon demanded.
“Sorry, I’m not a really great mole.”
His voice shifted in an instant. “Are you all right?”
“I’m bruised and battered, but I’ll make it.”
“Anything broken?”
“Don’t think so.”
A long sigh came through the phone, as if he’d vented hours of tension in one breath. “Thank God.”
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I heard shots and . . .”
“No, I’m fine. Just a little dusty.”
Gavenia blurted out, “Come see me sometime, okay?” She winced. That sounded pathetic. Fortunately her aunt was talking to the paramedic and missed the degrading moment.
O’Fallon didn’t hesitate. “You can count on it.”
“I need to talk to Llew.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later. No more falling down rabbit holes, you hear?”
“I promise.” When Llewellyn returned to the phone, she told him, “The other cop, the one named Glass . . . he killed Taylor.”
“Did you witness the murder?”
“No. Taylor’s spirit told me. I know it’s not admissible in court. Just wanted you to know.”
“Anything else?”
“Do whatever you can for O’Fallon. He’s—” Now wasn’t the time.
A low chuckle filled her ear, as if Llew knew exactly what she’d intended to say. “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. Just work on getting well.”
“I will.” She handed the phone back to Lucy, who rose and walked a short distance away. Gavenia knew they were comparing notes, ensuring that she was as uninjured as she sounded.
“We’re off the see the wizard,” the paramedic joked as he and his companion pulled the stretcher up and clicked it into place.
“Whee! Now I know how that witch felt when they dropped the house on her.” That remark earned a round of laughter.
Once they reached the ambulance, the paramedic smiled down at her. “Probably didn’t get to see this morning’s paper, did you?” he asked with a grin.
“Nope. Delivery’s been a bit spotty,” she said. “What did I miss?”
“You’ve been vindicated. Seems that reporter lied. Someone sent the paper a copy of the police report. You hit it right on the nose, lady.”
Gavenia’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, Goddess. Mrs. Jones . . .” She felt no sense of triumph, just immense sadness.
“So you really see ghosts?” the paramedic asked.
“Yes, I do.” She closed her eyes, hoping that would end the conversation. He took the hint, and after the back doors shut, the ambulance headed toward the hospital, siren piercing the morning air.
“Nothing broken, but lots of skid marks,” the young ER doc announced. He looked all of eighteen, if a day.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Gavenia replied. Her aunt stood nearby, on what appeared to be her fourth cup of coffee.
“I want you to have a shower before we start bandaging some of this. If not, we’ll just embed the dirt in the wounds, and life will get really bad.”
“I’ll endeavor to pick a cleaner place to get buried the next time,” she said. A million cuts and scrapes screamed at her from almost every part of her body. Her hair was a tangled mass of rust-coated knots.
He eyed her. “Good idea. When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”
“Six months ago.”
After the last time I did something really stupid.
“Good. We’ll give you another one anyway.”
Gavenia groaned.
Then why ask?
The doctor flung orders at the nearest nurse. She looked to be three times his age, and that fact earned her Gavenia’s immense gratitude.
Once Dr. Dude was gone, the nurse told her what to expect.
“Do you want the pain pills before or after the shower?”
“After.”
The nurse’s eyebrow marched upward as if questioning Gavenia’s sanity.
The shower was hellish. Gavenia bit her lip as long as she could and then wept openly from the pain. All the wounds burned in throbbing waves. Her mind tried to process each individual ache. The result was overload. Shivering, she sat in a shower chair, a nurse’s aide at her side. Though the girl was as tender as she could be, it felt like being flayed alive.
To mark her progress, Gavenia watched the water swirl around her toes as it spiraled down the drain. It started blood red, full of brick dust, then gradually faded to a light rose. Finally it ran clear.
Hell was followed by heaven: fresh bandages and ointment, a clean bed, two pain pills, and the supreme satisfaction of knowing the worst was over. As she sank down into the narcotic haze, her mind kept nagging her about the Irishman. Would he be okay? Surely they couldn’t charge him with anything.
“Watch over him, Brigit,” she murmured, and fell into a deep slumber.
* * *
How long Gavenia slept, she wasn’t sure. She remembered the occasional flutter of activity around her bed: the checking of blood pressure, shining of lights into her pupils, and asking of inane questions to ensure her brain wasn’t doing bad things. But for the most part they’d left her alone, as if the entombment and the shower were penance enough.
Soft sobs pulled her from her sleep. Gavenia managed to open her eyes and found her sister at the end of the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks. The moment Ari knew she was awake, she shook the bed in a furious gesture. The movement made Gavenia’s head spin.
“Are you crazy?” Ari demanded.
She rolled her head over and checked to see if her roommate was present. Out for a stroll.
Good timing.
She rolled her head back and ignored the sensation of light-headedness. “Didn’t do anything,” she replied, trying to string words together despite the fact she felt like a hot-air balloon cruising high on the jet stream.
“What the hell were you thinking?” her sister demanded again.
“Trying not to . . . wimp out,” Gavenia said, and screwed a crooked smile onto her face. She slowly inched a hand out from under the covers and scratched the end of her nose. It appeared to be the only part of her that wasn’t sore.
“You could have died,” Ari sobbed.
“Really?” Gavenia said, and then gave another lopsided smile. The pain pills were fabulous. Nothing bothered her, not even her sister’s wildly careening emotions.
Ari glared at her, shaking the bed again with a furious rattle, as if it would knock some sense into Gavenia.
“Come here, Pooh,” Gavenia said, waving a hand with broad swipes. “I don’t need a lecture. I need a hug.”