Chapter 31 – Jennie
Time slows to a crawl as I watch Micah work on Chris. There’s a loud ringing in my ears, and I’m so cold my muscles are shivering.
“We need to get him to a hospital,” Micah says. “God, I wish I had my chopper here.”
“We called for a medevac,” Jace says as he stands watching the grim proceedings. “But we’re going to have to move him to the main house. There’s not enough clearance to land a chopper here.”
Killian pulls up in an ATV. “It’s not the safest mode of transportation, but it’s our only option.”
Micah stands. “We don’t have a choice. He’s losing too much blood.”
“The idiot,” Jace says affectionately, and everyone nods. “God love him.”
It’s decided that Killian will drive the ATV back to the house. Micah will ride with him, and they’ll sandwich Chris between them.
“It’s going to be rough going,” Killian says. “This machine wasn’t designed to carry the weight of three grown men. It’s going to be off balance and liable to tip. We’re going to have to take it slow.”
“We don’t have time for slow,” Micah says.
Ruth sits with me on the grass as the men arrange themselves on the black vinyl seat of the vehicle. Chris is still unconscious, so they use ropes to strap him to Killian’s back. Micah takes up the rear, barely managing to fit on the seat. He does his best to hold Chris steady.
“Try to take it easy,” Micah says to Killian. “The rest of you follow on foot.”
“Wait!” I race up to the vehicle. Chris’s head is resting on Killian’s back, his eyes closed.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him. I lean in and kiss his blood-splattered lips.
My heart is pounding. There are so many things I need to tell him, but there’s no time.
There may never be time. “I love you, Chris.”
Ruth gently pulls me back. “Honey, they need to go.”
Hannah kisses Killian as he revs the engine. “Good luck,” she says.
Killian nods at his wife, and then the ATV moves forward. Slowly at first, as Killian tries to balance the machine. A few moments later, they pick up speed, and suddenly they’re around the bend and out of sight.
Immediately, I turn and race for the cabin. I shoot up the porch steps and rush past David’s body, which is covered with a blanket as two officers stand beside it.
Ruth follows me into the cabin. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve got to get my shoes.” I hunt around frantically for my sneakers. I find them under the bed and quickly put them on. I grab Ruth’s hand and tug her with me toward the door. “We have to hurry!”
“Jennie.” Ruth pulls me gently to a stop. “There’s no way we can keep up with them. They’ll make it back to the house long before we can, and they won’t waste a second transporting Chris to the hospital. They won’t be able to wait for us.”
As I turn back to face her, all the energy leaches out of me. I’m running on sheer adrenaline now, and that’s waning quickly as the stress of today catches up with me. “But I won’t get to see him al—again.” The unspoken word—alive—hangs in the air between us.
Ruth’s smile is sad. “You’ll see him at the hospital, sweetie. Jack and I will drive you straight there as soon as we reach the house.”
“We still have to hurry,” I say as I rush down the porch steps and head in the direction of the main house. “Every second counts.”
Ruth and Jack are right on my heels.
“You guys go,” Hannah says, waving us off. “We’ll secure the scene here and be right behind you.”
* * *
When we make it back to the house, there’s no sign of Chris and the others. There’s also no helicopter. The ATV is parked in the circular drive in front of the house, abandoned.
A middle-aged Latina comes out, waving her arms excitedly. “A helicopter took them away!” She glances at us. “Where is Mr. David?”
“He’s not coming,” Jack tells the woman.
Ruth leads me to her vehicle while Jack quickly explains to the woman everything that happened at the cabin. As she wails loudly and starts muttering in Spanish, Jack joins us. He gets behind the wheel and drives, while Ruth sits beside me in the back seat.
I lean numbly against her as she wraps an arm around me. I’ve lost all steam now. I’m shaking and numb, and I feel broken inside.
Chris.
He risked his life to save me. After everything that’s happened, I don’t deserve him.
“I can’t lose him,” I murmur. “I only just got him.”
Ruth tightens her hold on me. “I know, sweetie. I know.”
I hear Jack on the radio as he tries to reach Killian, but he has no luck. He glances back at us. “There’s probably interference from the helicopter.”
We drive the rest of the way to the hospital in silence.
There’s not much to say. I don’t know what Chris’s condition is.
It might already be too late.
I told him I was sorry and that I loved him. But the one thing I didn’t get to do was say goodbye.
* * *
When we near the hospital, Jack gets a phone call from Killian. After listening for a moment, he puts the call on speakerphone so Ruth and I can hear, too.
“He’s in surgery now,” Killian says. “He’s stable at least. Jennie, how are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” I say absently. I really don’t care about myself or how I’m doing. All I care about is Chris. I can’t stop thinking about how he risked his life for me. He intentionally put himself in harm’s way to distract David so Officer Stephens could take a shot.
When we arrive at the hospital, we make our way to the surgery waiting room, where Killian and Micah are. Soon the others arrive—Maya, Travis, Hannah, Owen, and John. The deputies come as well.
We sit for what seems like hours before a nurse comes out to give an update on Chris’s status.
“He’s out of surgery now and in Recovery,” she says. “Is someone here his next of kin?”
Everyone looks at me. “I am! I’m his fiancée.” Technically, it’s a lie, but I don’t feel one bit guilty for saying it. If I have my way, I will be his fiancée.
She takes down my name. “We’ll come get you as soon as he’s moved to a room.”
Sometime later, the same nurse returns with an update. She says the surgery went well, and he’s stable.
Upon hearing those words, I burst into tears.
Micah pulls me into his arms. “It’s okay, Jen. He’s going to be okay.”
Micah goes with me to his room. We’re silent as we step inside the dimly lit space.
The room is quiet, except for all the beeping and wheezing equipment.
Chris lies on the bed, white as a sheet, dressed in a hospital gown.
There are wires attached to his chest and an IV in his left arm.
There’s a blood pressure cuff on his left arm.
His upper right arm and shoulder are wrapped in fresh bandages.
We stand beside his bed—the left side—so I can reach down and squeeze his hand. “We’re here, Chris. Micah and I are here.”
He doesn’t respond. Clearly, he’s still out of it.
Micah pulls a chair up to the side of the bed. “Here, Jen. Sit down before you fall down.”
He pulls a second chair up beside mine, and we both sit there, holding a vigil as we wait for our best friend to wake up.