21. Toren
Toren
Ishifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Everything ached, so it was of little use. But still, I tried.
“You guys ready?” Walker called from the cockpit.
“More than,” Lana replied.
Peering around his seat, he nodded. “I’m taking you to Juneau.” His gaze shifted to Dustin, then to me. “To the hospital.”
I grimaced but didn’t argue. He was right, and I knew it.
That didn’t mean I liked the idea of going, though.
A large part of me wanted to just grab my fingers and yank them back into place like the last time, but I could feel the bones poking the skin at weird angles, and I now had a little numbness in my ring finger.
My ankle, though, felt surprisingly good for the jab Deke took at it.
My boot had mitigated a lot of the kick and kept it mostly stable.
It hurt like the devil, but I could put the same amount of weight on it without much increase in pain.
The engine roared to life. In moments, Walker set the plane in motion, and we floated over the surface of the snowy floodplain on the aircraft’s skis. The engine noise increased. Seconds later, we lifted off.
I took my first deep breath in days as relief hit me hard.
Holy shit, we made it out alive.
Walker banked and my body shifted. My hand bumped into the seat, and I let out a little hiss of pain. Cradling my arm, I closed my eyes until it ebbed.
Lana’s hand settled on my right thigh. She squeezed lightly but stayed silent. I reached down and covered her hand with mine, threading our fingers together. I didn’t know what would happen between us once we touched down, but for now, I wasn’t ready to give up contact with her.
Once the pain settled back to its earlier mid-level throb, I opened my eyes and sat up, peering around the seat at Dustin.
The plane had three rows of two seats with an aisle running up the middle. Dustin was all the way at the back on the right, leaned against the window with his eyes closed. His color was still off, but his breathing was slow and even. He was asleep.
I turned back. Sleep sounded like an awesome idea. I doubted I’d actually fall asleep, but resting my eyes would be quite welcome. The adrenaline dump had hit, and I was exhausted.
The flight to Juneau took just under forty minutes.
As I suspected, sleep was elusive, and I ended up staring out the window for most of the flight.
The snow-capped mountains below soon gave way to the coast and all the little water inlets that dotted the area around Juneau.
By the time Walker started his descent, I could see the gray chop of the channel below us and the city climbing the hillside above it.
Lana had done much the same as I had, trying to sleep, then giving up to watch the ground rush by below. Somewhere in the journey, she’d retracted her hand from my leg to cross her arms and lean into the side of the plane.
I missed her touch.
That empty feeling was accompanied by a myriad of others I didn’t have the energy for right now, so I clamped a lid on all of it and shoved it into the far recesses of my mind.
I was sure it would push its way out later when I was alone, half asleep, and vulnerable to my mind breaking free of its chains.
I heard the hum of the wheels coming down slightly through the skis.
Walker spared no expense for his plane, giving it the best outrigging available.
I vowed never to give him shit about it again.
Right now, I was glad we were touching down at the airport and not at the small grass airstrip a few miles away or on the water.
It meant a gentler landing and a quicker trip to the hospital.
A few minutes later, we touched down with a soft bounce.
Walker hit the brakes, and I felt myself lean into the seatbelt as the aircraft slowed.
Within thirty seconds, we were down to a taxiing pace and on our way to the terminal.
As we pulled up, an ambulance slow rolled toward us.
Walker had clearly made good on his word to get us to the hospital.
The wind-down of the engine left my ears ringing in the sudden silence, but the wind screaming outside quickly filled the void. The storm hadn’t completely blown through yet. I was happy the worst of it had abated enough to let Walker get out to find us.
Walker was the first down the steps, then Dustin. A paramedic immediately bundled him in a blanket and ushered him toward the well-lit bus.
Then it was my turn. Because of my height, it was actually easier for me to sit down in the doorway and scoot out than it was to try to hop down the several steps.
At the bottom, Walker braced me as I unfolded, balancing on my right foot.
The other paramedic helped me onto the gurney he and his partner brought over.
As he wheeled me toward the ambulance, I saw Lana step down, say something to Walker, then trot after me.
She hopped up inside the ambulance after they loaded me in and took a seat on the long bench next to Dustin.
The paramedics asked us all a few questions, took some vitals, then we set off for Bartlett Regional. It was a short ride, and we were soon pulling into the ambulance bay and heading inside.
A wail cut through the corridor as we made our way inside. I looked down the hallway to see a blonde woman running toward us, arms outstretched.
Dustin’s face lit up in the first bit of happiness I’d seen on him since we found him yesterday.
“Tina.” He let go of the blanket, took several steps toward her, and caught her as she launched herself into his arms.
“Walker must have gotten word to her, somehow,” Lana said at my side.
Tina opened her eyes, looking over her fiancé’s shoulder, catching Lana’s eye. She mouthed a quick, “Thank you,” then pulled back from Dustin’s embrace to frame his face in her hands, looking him over.
A nurse approached, ushering them to follow her into a room. The paramedic pushed my stretcher past their door to another open room just down the hall.
The next half hour was a blur. Nurses came and went, as did a doctor, and a radiology technician, who wheeled me down the corridor to take X-rays of my hand, foot, and chest. When I returned to my little cubicle, Lana was sitting in the same chair she’d been in when I left but was now arguing with a nurse that she didn’t need medical attention.
“Look.” Lana gestured to me. “He’s back. Focus on him. I’m fine.”
The nurse pursed her lips but stopped arguing.
I just shook my head and gave her a look that said, “What can you do?” I wasn’t about to argue with Lana.
Not when I knew she was fine. If I had any inkling she was hurt, I would have, but unless she did something when she rammed Deke, she’d escaped our ordeal physically unscathed.
About fifteen minutes later, the doctor wandered back in with a shriek of the metal pegs in the curtain track blocking the door.
“I have your X-ray results, Mr. McCrae.” He sat down on the rolling stool in front of the computer and logged in.
With a few clicks, he had the first set of images pulled up. They were of my foot.
“The good news is I don’t see any fractures in your ankle.
I think it would be wise to send you for an MRI to check out the ligament and tendon damage, but that can be done on an outpatient basis with one of our orthopedic doctors.
You’re going to need to see one, anyway.
Your hand is…” he quirked an eyebrow, then clicked more buttons on the computer. “Well, it’s a mess.”
New images appeared on the screen. My pinkie and ring fingers were in several more pieces than they should be.
“You’re going to need surgery. Soon. I called the on-call orthopedist, which is Dr. Henderson. She should be down shortly to discuss things with you and try to reduce that fracture a bit, so you’re more comfortable.”
I grimaced at the thought of what that would entail. “Great. Looking forward to it.”
The E.R. physician grinned, hearing the sarcasm in my voice. “The good news is you don’t have any other significant injuries. Your ribs look fine. They’re just bruised.”
That was something, I supposed. “Okay. Thanks, doc.”
He rose. “You’re welcome. Do you have any other questions for me?”
“Am I staying the night?” I really just wanted to go home. Or to a hotel. Some place with a decent bed. Hospital beds were a step up from the bedrolls we’d been sleeping on, but they weren’t a normal mattress. Plus, I really, really, wanted to take a shower.
“That will be up to Dr. Henderson and how quickly she wants to take you to surgery.”
My mouth flattened. I nodded, then muttered another thanks, and he left.
With a sigh, I glanced at Lana. “You can go, if you want. I’m going to be here a while yet.”
She looked at me like I’d grown another head. “I’m not going anywhere. If they release you, I’m calling us an Uber to take us to my house. If they don’t, I’ll stay until you’re settled in a room, then going home to get cleaned up before I come back.”
“I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But unless you explicitly tell me to leave, I’m staying.”
The part of my brain that recognized she was dangerous to my emotional state formed the words. But another, more reckless, part slammed the lid on them.
My jaw worked, and I looked into the hall through the sliver of space between the curtain and the doorjamb.
I guess she was staying, then.