Lunatic Revenge (16 page)

“Oh. Well, that’s good. She’d been pretty down since the tornado ordeal. Look, I’m on the job, so I won’t talk longer. I’ll check in with you later, okay?”

“Okay. My sister is here today and we’re having lunch. Thanks for calling.”

“Sure thing. Later.”

He hung up. She didn’t know any more than he did, and with no other way to confirm his worst fears, he dialed the police.

“Stillwater Police Department, how may I direct your call?”

“Uh
 . . .
this is Pat Carmichael. I know this may seem a little weird, but I have reason to believe my niece, Tara Luna, might be in trouble. Can you tell me if there have been any accidents involving a teenage girl and boy, or if there have been any calls in to the police, either from her or about her? She would have probably been with a boy named Flynn O’Mara.”

“One moment please,” the woman said.

Pat was already walking back toward the city truck. The wind was blowing again, but it was at his back, as if trying to hurry him along. He got the message and started to run. A few seconds later, the woman was back on the phone.

“Hello? Sir? Are you still there?”

Pat knew he was out of shape when he realized he could not run and talk at the same time. He stopped again, gasping for breath.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Your niece was in an accident. She’s on her way to Stillwater Memorial.”

Pat froze. “Oh God, oh God, please tell me that she’s still alive.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I have no information on her condition, only that she was involved in an accident.”

“Was there a young man with her?”

“Yes. They are both enroute to the hospital.”

He dropped the phone in his pocket and began to run. The truck was at the end of the next block, but it might as well have been in the next state. It only took a couple more minutes to get to it, but to Pat, it was an eternity. He kept thinking this was how he’d lost his sister and her husband, and why he’d ended up raising Tara as his own. He wouldn’t let himself believe that God was going to do this to him again.

When he got to the truck, his heartbeat was roaring in his ears. He made a call to Mona. When she answered, he didn’t waste words.

“Mona, it’s me, Pat.”

“Hi. What—”

“Just listen. Flynn and Tara were in an accident. They’re on their way to the hospital and I’m headed that on my way now.”

He heard her gasp, and then the disbelief in her voice

“No! Oh dear God, do you know what happened? Are they seriously injured?”

“I don’t know anything more than what I told you. I’m assuming Flynn was driving your car.”

“We’re on our way. I’ll see you there.”

He hung up and took off toward the hospital, taking alleys and back roads to keep from getting caught at stop lights. By the time he got to the hospital he was crying, and that’s how he entered ER, with tears on his face and Tara’s name on his lips.

“My niece was in an accident. Her name is Tara Luna. Where is she?”

The clerk glanced up then checked a chart. “The doctor is attending to her now. Just have a seat and they’ll be out when—”

“I need to talk to the doctor now! She has medical allergies they need to know about. Please! Where is she?”

The clerk stood. “Follow me,” she said, and led him to a curtained area down the hall.

Pat was in a panic as they hurried past one curtained area after another. Some beds were empty, others were not. He saw Mona and another woman standing just outside a curtained cubicle, caught a glimpse of her panicked expression and his heart skipped a beat. A step later, he saw Flynn lying unconscious and motionless on a bed with half the clothing cut away from his body and a flurry of doctors and nurses working on him. Seeing Flynn like that was like a fist to the gut, imagining Tara in the same condition.

The receptionist suddenly stopped and pointed into Bay 7. When he saw Tara awake and talking, he choked back a sob of relief.

“Tara. Baby girl. Thank God.”

Tara was still confused
and in pain. All she could remember was Flynn saying he couldn’t breathe and then the water coming over their heads. She had regained consciousness in the ambulance with no memory of getting out of the car.

“Where’s Flynn? Somebody has to help Flynn,” she moaned, and kept pushing at the doctor’s hands.

He flipped a light in her eye, watching to see if the pupil contracted normally.

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Tara
 . . .
my name is Tara. You have to help Flynn.”

He flipped the light in her other eye, talking calmly as he quickly assessed her injuries. “You’re in a hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

“We were in the water. How did we get out of the water? Where’s Flynn? You have to help Flynn.” Then she heard someone else call her name and recognized the voice. “Uncle Pat?”

“I’m here, baby,” Pat said. “I’m here.” He moved to the foot of the bed so she could see him. Afraid the doctor would run him out, he quickly started to explain. “I’m her family. You need to know she’s allergic to codeine. Did she tell you?”

The doctor’s eyes widened. “No. Somebody note that on her chart, stat!”

Tara started to cry. “The car hit us, Uncle Pat. It hit us twice. We went into the lake. Flynn couldn’t breathe. I held his head above water, but he still couldn’t breathe. It’s his chest. Something is wrong with his chest.”

The doctor glanced at one of the nurses. “They probably already know that, but make sure,” he said.

The nurse hurried away to deliver the message while the doctor continued to assess Tara’s condition and treat her injuries. She had contusions on her head and cheek and some shallow cuts on her hands and legs.

“Does she have any broken bones?” Pat asked.

“I don’t think so, but we’ve already taken x-rays and are awaiting results. She was unconscious when they pulled her out of the water, but responded to CPR.”

Pat kept patting Tara’s foot, unable to believe how close he’d come to losing her.

“I’ll be admitting her to the hospital for observation, if no problems pop up, we’ll let her go home in a day or two.”

Pat kept nodding, trying to absorb everything the doctor was telling him. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her, but she was only focused on Flynn.

“Uncle Pat
 . . .
did you see Flynn? Is he alright?”

“I saw him in another cubicle. They’re taking care of him, honey.”

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, Tara. His mother and aunt are with him.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, and started to cry.

The doctor finished his examination and patted her shoulder. “You’re a very fortunate young lady. They’re going to take you upstairs to your room. Your uncle can go with you, okay?”

Tara wiped her tears as she nodded. “Can I please see Flynn?”

The doctor shook his head. “No, sorry, honey. Not just yet.”

I’ll do it for you. Don’t worry.

Millicent! Where were you?

We brought your uncle.

Really?

Just ask him. He’ll explain. You rest. I’ll be back.

Tara exhaled slowly, closing her eyes as the tears ran unheeded down her face.

“I’m here, baby girl.”

Pat squeezed her arm and then stepped out into the hall as they transferred Tara from the ER bed to another one and began rolling her toward the elevator to take her up to the room.

Mona and her sister were gone, and the bed where Flynn had been was empty. After what Tara had said about him not being able to breathe, Pat guessed they must have taken him to surgery.

Tara didn’t know Flynn had been that close by. She couldn’t believe this was happening. How could something that had been so perfect turn wrong so fast? She moaned. Her head and face hurt, her chest hurt, she was sick to her stomach, and the knot in her belly was pure fear—fear that Flynn wasn’t going to make it.

“Are you okay, Miss Luna?” the orderly said.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m afraid nothing will ever be okay again,” and clutched her uncle’s hand even tighter.

The bed stopped moving as the orderly paused to press the button for the elevator. She could hear the car rumbling as it traveled down the shaft toward them. Then the door opened and a tall man wearing a long-sleeved white cotton shirt and blue jeans got off. He was standing against the wall as they wheeled Tara’s bed into the car, and for a fraction of a second, his gaze locked onto Tara’s with such intensity that she lost her breath.

Ghost!

She’d never seen him before, but she knew who it was, and she knew where he was going.

Millicent! He’s here! Flynn’s father—he’s going to Flynn. Does that mean Flynn is dying? Did Michael come for him? Help me! Help me! I can’t bear this alone.

I see him. I will observe.

Tara’s heart was pounding so fast she felt faint. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse. OMG.

Two hours had passed
since Tara’s admission to the hospital, and the longer time passed, the heavier her chest felt. A nurse explained that it was sore muscles from the CPR, and that if she didn’t develop a fever or pneumonia from the water that had been in her lungs, she was going to come off as a very fortunate young girl. Exhausted in both body and spirit, she continued to doze off, and every time she woke up, she asked about Flynn’s condition. When she woke up again, Pat was sitting in a chair by her bed. “Uncle Pat?”

He sat up straighter. “I’m right here. How do you feel?”

“Weird. Sore. Is there any news about Flynn?”

He shook his head.

“Please, will you go see if you can find anything out? Find the surgery waiting room and see if Mona is there
 . . .
do something. I can’t stand this not knowing anymore.”

“You can’t tell anything with your powers?” Pat asked.

“No, and that’s what bothers me. I sent Millicent to find out hours ago and she never came back. She said she helped get you here. What did she mean?”

“Let’s just say they got my attention, and once I figured out it was them, I knew something must have happened to you. I tried to call you but you didn’t answer. I called Mona, but all she knew was that Flynn had gone to pick you up. After that, I called the police department. They’re the ones who told me there was an accident and that you and Flynn were being transported to the hospital.”

“I’m glad they did. I was never so happy to see anyone in my life, but I need to know about Flynn. Please go see if you can find anything out.”

He frowned. “I don’t like to leave you.”

“Look at me. I’m fine. Please, it’s driving me crazy.”

“Okay, but I won’t be gone long.”

Tara watched him leave, and then pulled the covers up under her chin and tried not to cry. Her head already hurt. Crying would just make it worse.