Buck and JD stood side by side, watching as the newcomers dug into the debris. The two were taking a much needed break from the heavy rescue work. They
watched as Nathan, Josiah, and Ezra came towards them carrying a tray of food and coffee with them.
Volunteers continued to work to remove the clutter from the dwindling pile. So far, they uncovered a couple of pockets of clear air. This allowed several dozen
people to be released from their terrifying prisons. The death toll was now at twenty seven and would continue to climb as they neared the section where the
explosion occurred.
“Hey, we’re almost through,” the call came from one of the workers near the section where the Noodle Express would’ve been.
The five members of The Firm dropped the sandwiches and coffees onto the tray and hurried to help. None of the men voiced their fears. This was the area they
expected to meet Chris and Vin. Vin loved the food at Arby’s and they usually sat at a table near the fast food court.
"It's been six damn hours!" Buck hissed in frustration, at his watch read fifteen minute past six p.m. What should have been a holiday celebration, instead was a
numbing feast of fear. A terrifying vision of two bloodied bodies, with blood soaked blood hair and mangled Texan limbs chilled him. 'You two damn well better be
alive on the other side of this shit!' he thought as he pulled a large splintered board from the rubble.
Through a veiled haze of pain, Vin gazed at the weary pair struggling to dig through the mess. Larabee's face was a mask of agony and even from this distance, Vin
could feel the pain etched in the green eyes. The sharpshooter bit his lip and held back a cry of pain as he shifted slightly on the floor. The agony in his chest was
almost unbearable as he struggled to breath. He closed his eyes and fought back the blackness at the edge of his vision. His head pounded to the steady rhythm of
the throbbing pain in his leg. He could feel the tightness in his chest as he breathed shallowly in order to minimize his discomfort. He slowly drifted on the sea of pain,
praying that it would ease to a more bearable level.
Chris looked away from the debris he was pulling at long enough to glance at his friend. Tanner was propped up against one of the tables. His breathing didn’t seem
as harsh and the bleeding stopped. With every passing moment, the sharpshooter's strength was ebbing badly, and that worried him. He knew the young man lost a
lot of blood from the wound in his thigh and he wondered just how long he’d been bleeding internally. ‘God, don’t let him die!’ he thought as he turned back to the
job at hand. The black clad man could hear Cindy working next to him and knew she was doing her best to control her emotions. He looked at his own bloody
knuckles and broken fingernails and figured hers must look the same way. Larabee worked steadily, using his left arm to do all the work. He tried to use the right
one, but the pain was overwhelming and he nearly passed out. He vowed to buy the young girl and her family dinner once they escaped this deathtrap. ‘Hell,
Larabee, it’ll have to wait till you’re out of the hospital,’ he laughed softly, but there was no humor in the sound. He was having difficulty drawing air into his
lungs, but he chose to ignore it. He felt the urge to cough, but refused to give into it, knowing if he gave into it he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“I...I think I hear something,” Cindy sat back and listened intently.
Larabee stopped digging and waited for the sound the girl heard to be repeated. It wasn’t long before he heard the faint scraping and knew she was right. He
dropped the slab of wood he held and hurried back to his friend. “They’re coming, Vin.” He waited for the glazed blue eyes to open before repeating the words. We
heard them. It won't be long now before we outta this mess. You're doing fine."
"...full of shit..," Tanner groaned, then managed a weak smile. "...c..c...a...n't...lie...wo..worth..a ...damn...Lar..lar...a..b..b..ee..." He didn't suppress the groan of pain,
allowing a bloody burst of bubbles to escape his pale lips. "...s..or..r..y...C...h..r..r..i..s.."
"What?" Larabee perplexed, using his good hand to wipe the blood from the grim mouth.
"...shirt...lost your...new...sh..sh...ir..t..."
Chris's eyes filled and he glanced upwards, before reaching out and pulled Vin into his arms. He muffled a cry as Tanner’s head came in contact with his own broken
arm. He held his friend’s trembling body, fear gripping his heart. The sharpshooter’s normally dancing blue eyes were filled with pain and sorrow. The lids began to
close and Chris spoke sharply, “Don’t you dare leave me, Vin!” he hissed. “ I won’t...I ...can’t let you go! You hear me, Tanner, I don’t care how much pain you’re
in, you better not fuckin’ quit on me now. I don’t care if I’m being a selfish bastard...” his voice tapered off as he watched the eyes open once more. “That’s it! Open
your eyes and quit scaring the shit outta me!”
“T...take...long t...time...” the sharpshooter’s voice trailed off as he struggled to breath.
“What’s gonna take a long time?” Larabee asked seriously.
“S...scare s...shit outta y...you. Vin grinned weakly, tapping a bloody hand on Chris's leg. “You...re... f...full of it."
Tanner’s smile warmed Larabee’s heart. He knew the effort it took for the younger man to talk let alone joke with him. “Join the club!” the blond smiled down at his
semi conscious friend.
“Is he okay?” Cindy asked softly.
“He’s just fine. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” Larabee slicked back the long strands of sweat soaked hair and stared into the pain filled eyes.
“N...never b...better,” he mumbled tiredly.
The blond held onto his friend for fear of losing him should the contact cease. The blue orbs were closed now, but a pair of worried green ones continued to watch
the pale face. He looked to where Cindy sat listening, praying the sounds of rescue would continue.
The young girl swiped at the tears in her eyes as she listened intently. Her heart leaped into her chest as she heard a male voice call out.
“Is anyone in there?”
“Yes! Yes! Oh, God, we need help! We’re here!” she screamed, her voice edging toward hysteria.
“How many of you are there?”
“Three.”
“Are you all okay?”
“No!” she cried as tears flowed down her dirty face. “There’s two men and they’re hurt. Please, God, hurry!” she cried.
“We’re almost through. Can you move back?”
“Okay,” Cindy laughed as tears continued to create clean tracks down her cheeks. She moved to sit with her two companions. Fear gripped her once more as she
saw how incredibly pale the two men were. The longhaired man’s head lay against the blond’s chest. The older man holding tightly to his friend. “They’re almost
here!” she told Chris, resting a hand on his back and tapping it gently.
“Did you hear that, Vin? Help’s almost here. You just hold onto me and we’ll be outta here before you know it.” Larabee kept his eyes on his friend’s chest even as
he heard movement from the pile of rubble. He pressed his lips close to the stilled man's ear and spoke in an urgent tone. "I won't leave you...I'm right here. I got
you, Cowboy."
Cindy stood up and rushed forward as two men in rescue workers uniforms came through the opening. She rushed towards them and wrapped her arms around the
first man she came to. “Thank God!” she cried as she clung tightly to the newcomer.
“Are you hurt, Miss?” the dark haired man holding her asked. His companion moved towards the two seated men and knelt in front of them.
“N...no. I’m fine! B...but they need help,” she explained as she released the choke hold on the rescuer.
“We’re gonna get them all the help they need, Miss...”
“Cindy...”
“Cindy,” he smiled at her as he turned her towards a woman coming through the entrance they cleared. “Go with Marcia and she’ll get you out of here. Okay?”
“O...okay,” she mumbled tiredly as the woman took her arm and led her towards the entrance.
“Marcia, tell them we need the paramedics in here,” he ordered.
“I will, Stan!” she replied, leading the dazed girl to safety.
Stan Mercer hurried to the injured men. His partner was talking to the blond, but Stan could tell the man was having a hard time focusing. “How are they, Mark?”
“That one’s unconscious,” he said, pointing to the inert body cradled against his friend’s chest. “I don’t think he’s gonna be awake much longer either. Hey, Buddy,
what’s your name?”
“Lar..a..a...bee...Chr..is...," the answer was barely audible as the man refused to look at either of them. Larabee continued to watch his friends chest, afraid if he took
his eyes off him the motion would stop.
“Someone’s coming out!” Dunne shouted as he heard sounds from the hole they shored up in order to attempt the rescue operation.
“It’s Marcia and she’s got a girl with her,” one of the workers called.
Two Paramedics rushed forward and took control of the young girl. They put her on a gurney and strapped her in place even as she tried to voice her protests.
“Please, you gotta help them. I’m not hurt!” she insisted as a blanket was placed over her trembling body.
“There’s more teams, Miss, we just want to get you checked out.”
“No, you don’t understand. They need help. Vin’s hurt b...”
Jackson was closest to the gurney and he heard the name. He stopped the paramedics from taking the girl and asked. “Did you say Vin?” His brown eyes were tense
as they searched for the answer. "He have long hair, blue eyes and talks with a soft drawl?"
Her eyes lit up as someone finally listened to her. “Yes! That’s Vin. He’s hurt, Mister, and so is Chris. They need help!”
“We’ll help them. You go with these guys and get checked out.”
“Promise you’ll help them?”
“I promise,” Jackson said as the paramedics wheeled her towards the exit. “I’m going in!” he said and knew the others were following him. He ducked under the
precariously hanging debris and carefully made his way through the opening at the end of the small tunnel. He heard voices before he came into the dull lighting. Keen
brown eyes quickly landed on four figures seated a short distance away. He hurried towards the men and mumbled thanks as the two rescue workers moved out of
the way. He knelt in front of his friends, horrified by the pained features and ghostly pallor of their skin.
“Chris, can you hear me?" he asked.
Strange voices invaded his raging inferno. Where was he? Scattered images filtered through his private hell. An explosion...screams...debris...then nothing. Where?
Arsonists...yeah must be the Salerno case. Sharp spears of pain slashed his body and it was with great difficulty he got his eyes half open. Strange faces loomed
over him, large and garish. The distorted images along with the distracting, voices scared him. His breath increased, sending new waves of pressure into his tight
chest. Vin...they were going to hurt Vin...
"Hey?" the concerned brown eyes saw the mask of fear on Larabee's pale features. Confusion was common during a head injury...he saw the deathgrip the blond
had on his best friend and smiled. Chris would die before he'd let anyone near the bloody Texan. He leaned his face lower, hoping the dazed man would understand
him. "The paramedics are on the way, Chris. Why don't you let me take a look at him?" Jackson could feel four pairs of eyes watching them and knew the other
members of the team were standing behind him.
"NO!" his voice tapered off as a harsh cough wracked his body. He held his friend tightly as his eyes filled with pain. They were surrounding him now, trying to pry
Vin from his arms. They were going to kill Vin, of that he was sure. Hadn't the note warned of that...he tried to remember the bragging arsonists letter. "NO!" he
hissed, clenching his arms tighter. Nobody touched Tanner...nobody!
Jackson watched the dazed man before him. He could see Larabee was having difficulty drawing air into his lungs, but there was also black spittle at the corners of
his mouth. He knew both men must've inhaled smoke. They needed to get them on oxygen and to the hospital as soon as possible. He looked over his head and
watched as two teams of paramedics hurried towards them. "Chris, the paramedics are here. They're gonna take care of you and Vin."
"Ly...in...g...sac...of...shit..." Larabee growled weakly, his chest on fire. "...you won't ..g..g..et..him...die .f.f..i..rs..t..."
Wilmington knelt beside Jackson, fear gripping his hear. To see Chris in such pain was one thing, to see him lost in another world, confused and alone, tore at him.
"Hey, Pard, let me take him so the medics can take a look at you both."
"B...Buck?" Chris frowned. Was it a trick? Were they imitating his oldest friend? Where was Buck? Maybe Buck was hiding...and the voice was real. NO! His
inner alarm sounded. The clashing caused his aching head to split. "Fuck off...Sa...ler...no..."
"Salerno?" Nathan jerked his head. "Christ, he's lost in time. That was what? Five months ago?..."
"Shit!" Buck hissed, recalling the killer whose baiting notes, full of rhymes, stymied the federal and local authorities. Chris recognized the pattern, from his younger
days. He knew it was Guido Salerno and they'd split up, covering three potential sites. He and Vin were trapped in the building that eventually blew up, killing the
arsonist. "CHRIS!" He shouted, "It's Buck, I'm gonna get you and Vin out...we gotta hurry..."
"C...can't, p...promised...wouldn't l...let h...him go." the blond pleaded. What was wrong with Buck? Couldn't he see it was a trap? Salerno was right there...He
intensified his hold on Vin.
"You have to, Chris, but he'll be at the hospital when you get there," the ladies man assured his friend as he tried to take the sharpshooter form his arms.
Larabee's reaction was instantaneous. Green eyes came up and blazed with anger. The arms enfolding the tracker clenched tightly, causing a soft groan to escape the
younger man's lips. Chris glared at the moustached man. "D...Don't you fuckin' touch him!" he gasped at the strangers. He blinked hard, trying to focus on a face
close by. Was that Buck or one of Salerno's men? He couldn't take the chance, not with Vin's life.
Josiah looked up as a sound emanated from overhead. A small shower of dust and debris fell around them and he knew the ceiling wouldn't last much longer. "We
need to get them out now," he snapped.
"Chris, I have to take him," Wilmington soothed as he tried again to free the unconscious man from the strong arms that held him.
"No!" the blond screamed as the body was taken from his arms. He felt strong hands touch him, but he struggled against them in an effort to reach his friend.
"P...promised. P...please...Buck...they'll kill...him...Buck..."
"It's okay, Chris," the scoundrel assured him. "Nathan and the paramedics are looking after him. They'll get him out. Now you just lie there and let these guys do the
same for you." He watched as the two teams of paramedics worked quickly on his friends. Identical cervical collars were applied to both men and they were moved
to backboards. Larabee continued to protest weakly as he was strapped to the backboard. Tanner didn't make a sound during his treatment. Wilmington looked
from one man to the other, wondering how a day that started out with such promise, ended with his two friends in dire need of medical attention. His thoughts were
drawn back to the present as debris rained down on them from above. "We need to get out of here now!" he shouted and helped the paramedics lift the stretcher
holding Larabee. He saw Josiah move in to help with Tanner and knew the others were grabbing the extra equipment.
The injured Texan was moved through the tunnel first, Larabee came through next, the rest of the men and equipment following behind the injured members of the
team. All eyes turned to the tunnel as a screeching noise came from within. Seconds later the escape route was once again obliterated in a mound of broken wood,
concrete, and other debris.
The two paramedics working on Vin Tanner ignored the sounds around them. Their focus was totally on the critically injured man before them. His breathing seemed
to be growing worse and when the older man checked the inside of his mouth there was evidence of black soot. He lifted his stethoscope and placed it to the man’s
chest. He knew his partner was trying to start and IV, but was having some difficulty. He cut Tanner’s clothes from his body and hooked up the monitoring
equipment. The equipment came to life immediately and started beeping.
"Jack, I can't get it! He's shutting down!" Braeden exclaimed as he tried unsuccessfully to insert an IV line.
"Shit, blood pressure's only 70 by palpation! His heart rates slowing! We're losing him!" Jack snapped as the two men worked side by side to save the injured man's
life. "He's not getting any air. I'm gonna intubate him!" The two paramedics were not new to emergency scenes and they worked quickly. One man held the victim's
head while the other inserted the tube down his throat.
Jackson watched as the team worked over the sharpshooter. It wasn't long before they had the tube down Tanner's throat and were inserting medication into it. He
heard Jack tell Braeden to place one milligram epinephrine down the tube. He knew in his heart the tracker was fighting for each and every breath. His heart sank as
he watched Braeden take a long needle and insert it into his friend’s left side. He knew they were trying to help him breath easier.
Braeden heard the soft whoosh of air as the needle found its mark, he watched as a hint of color returned to his patient's face. He sighed as he turned his attention to
the other tasks he needed to accomplish before they could move the injured man to the hospital.
Nathan turned his attention to the team leader. The blond was still conscious as the medics worked on him. They placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose as
his cough intensified. He watched as a young female Paramedic took his left arm and began inserting an IV line. He could see Larabee's eyes were trained on his
injured friend.
The pain washed over him in red waves and through the mist, he saw medical personnel. There were others...Josiah? Nate? His hopes lifted, then the strangers
came back, circling. Where was Salerno? He saw Vin's bloodied body and his eyes locked onto the fallen man. Chris couldn't turn away from the terrifying scene
beside him. Vin Tanner seemed to be dying before his eyes. He tried again to reach out and touch his friend but found his hand clasped tightly. He turned a vicious
glare on the young woman, angry that she would not let him go.
"Chris, lie still!" Jackson ordered as he knelt beside the blond.
"N...Nathan...V...Vin n...needs help," he cried breathlessly.
"He's getting it, Chris! Now just be still and let the Paramedics help you!" Jackson ordered. The medic turned back to the other team working on Tanner. He
breathed a sigh of relief as they got the IV in. He listened as one man read off the vitals, relieved when he heard the blood pressure now read 84/50.
"Run it wide open, Braeden," Jack ordered as his partner finished securing the IV. He stood up and raised the stretcher. "Let’s get him out of here!"
"N...Nathan go w...with him!" Larabee's weak voice ordered. "P...please."
The voice was filled with fear and tension. Jackson knew the blond wouldn't rest unless he knew someone was with the sharpshooter. He nodded to the blond,
turned to the other men and hurried after the first stretcher.
"Chris, we need you to calm down and take deep breaths," the female paramedic ordered.
"C...can't," Larabee told her and she could see the truth of his words in his eyes.
"We're gonna finish immobilizing your arm and get you to the hospital. Just relax and let us look after you," she ordered.
"Hey, Pard, Vin's gonna be just fine," Wilmington tried to assure his friend. The ladies man recognized the look in the green eyes. He'd seen it only once before.
Another time where Chris Larabee suffered from a tremendous loss, the death of his wife and son. He knew that was what his friend was feeling now. He could tell
Chris was thinking he was about to lose a member of his new family. A man who'd helped him through the loss of his first one. He watched as the long lashes slowly
closed down over the tired eyes. He shivered as he saw the fleeting image in his mind. He knew if Tanner died there would be no one who could console the injured
man. Oh, he'd try, but he didn't know if he had the same type of friendship the team leader and the sharpshooter shared. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the ex-preacher.
"They'll both make it, Brother."
"Thanks, Josiah," Buck muttered as they followed the second stretcher towards the exit. He smiled thinly as he felt JD, Ezra and Josiah close ranks around him. They
knew how close he was to the departing men and they were there as more than support. They were family and families stuck together.
“Get him into Trauma One!” Stacey Midland shouted as the stretcher bearing the body of Vin Tanner was pushed through the emergency room doors. “Sandy, tell
Dr. Frost I need him in trauma one.”
“Yes, Dr. Midland!’ the nurse shouted above the madhouse the Emergency Department had become since the explosion at Rimrock Mall. She rushed to the nurse’s
desk and put in the call for the orthopaedic surgeon. As she talked she looked around at the many stretcher bearing victims in need of medical attention. They were
being tended to in order of need rather than arrival. She could see some patients were still in pain, most had IV’s attached to their arms or hands, some were being
given oxygen because of smoke inhalation. As a nurse with fifteen years experience these were the times she hated most. People were left to suffer because they
were taking care of the critically injured first. She knew the waiting room was full, not an empty chair to be found. The last time she’d checked people were sitting on
the floor, some holding each other. Most just looked dazed, as if they didn’t understand what happened to them. She shook her head and forced the images from her
mind. It was almost seven thirty, seven hours since they’d been called and told of the explosion. Sorrow filled her heart, but she forced it away and returned to the
job at hand. For that’s what it was at the moment, a job, her job, something she did extremely well. The tears would come later when she was wrapped in her
husband’s arms.
Sandy hurried to the room where Stacey Midland disappeared with Vin Tanner. She pushed open the door and watched as the young man received the treatment
that would hopefully save his life. Extensive bruising covered much of his chest, cuts and scratches were abundantly clear over most of his body. The trauma team
was working in perfect synchronization. “Dr. Frost is on his way,” she told Midland.
“Thanks, Sandy,” the female doctor said “Tell his friends I’ll see them when we’re finished the preliminary examinations. I want a complete X-ray series. Call CT and
tell them I want a scan of his head. It looks like he took a severe blow. Call the blood bank and have them send up 4 units of packed cells,” she ordered as a nurse
took blood samples from the injured man.
“They’re not here yet, Doctor, but I’ll let them know,” Sandy assured her as she left the room.
“What are his vitals?” the worried doctor asked as she continued checking one of her most frequent patients.
“BP is 80 over 50, rapid heartbeat at 120, temperature is 96,” a nurse snapped off the readings as she checked the IV flow.
Stacey Midland watched as the nurses cleaned the wound above Tanner’s right ear. She knew by the young man would be suffering from a concussion when he
woke up. The signs were all there. She lifted his left eyelid and noted the reactions of his pupils were sluggish. She checked to make sure the tube down his throat
was properly inserted, even though she had confidence in the paramedics. She expertly connected the ventilator to the tube in his throat and watched as the machine
breathed for her patient.
The doctor turned to watch Dr. Carl Marcus expertly inserted a chest tube in the patient’s left side. The woman doctor was worried that Tanner hadn’t moved since
being brought in and she hoped Chris Larabee or one of his other friends would soon arrive. She briefly wondered why Larabee didn’t ride in with Tanner. She
looked up as the technician from X-ray came into the room with the portable unit.
“Full series!” she shouted as she moved around the other medical professionals working to save the young man’s life.
“Yes, Doctor!” the tech agreed as she moved into the spot vacated by two of the nurses. The battered form lay silent and naked on the bed as she moved the
machine into position. She waited for everyone to leave the room before she set up for the X-rays.
Stacey stood at the desk with David Frost. The man looked as tired as she felt, yet she knew there was much more to be done to save the lives of the people injured
in the mall explosion.
“We’ll see what the X-rays tell us before I make any decisions about Tanner’s leg...” his voice trailed off as another stretcher was wheeled through the doors.
Midland looked to the stretcher and knew immediately who it was. She now understood why Larabee didn’t ride in with Tanner. She hurried to the stretcher and
smiled at the green eyes looking out over the oxygen mask. “Pamela,” she called as she noted the immobilized right arm and the bruises on the left side of the blond’s
chest. “Do we have a room?”
“Trauma Three should be available. Just give me a second to make sure,” the petite redhead called.
“V...Vin?”
Midland looked back down at one of her frequent patients. She could tell he was having difficulty breathing and was probably sporting broken ribs. “We’re treating
him now,” she answered.
“H...he o...okay?” Larabee labored to get the words out, fear and worry in his dazed green eyes.
“We’re doing X-rays, CT scan and blood work on him right now, Chris.”
“We’re ready for him, Doctor!” Pamela called from Trauma three. “Dr. Carter and his team have been notified and are on their way!”
“Chris we’re gonna move you into a treatment room now. Just relax for a minute and we’ll get you something for pain,” Midland told him as they pushed the stretcher
towards the trauma room.
“N...need t...to m...make sure V...Vin’s o...o...okay,” he gasped through the pain.
“We’ll take care of both of you, Chris.”
“Dr. Midland, we need you!” a nurse called from the room housing Vin Tanner.
“V...Vin!” Larabee’s panicked voice hissed. “P...please, Doc, h...help h...him!”
“I will, Chris,” she assured the blond, not questioning how he knew Tanner was in this particular room. She’d known these men since Tanner saved Larabee’s life
and knew from experience the two had some kind of connection.
Chris couldn’t take his eyes from the room the doctor disappeared into. Despite the pain running through his own body he couldn’t get past the last vision he had of
Vin Tanner. The tube being run down his throat by the paramedics and the voice that called, ‘He’s shutting down!’
Two orderlies pushed his gurney towards trauma room three. He tried to take deep breaths, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to draw air into his lungs.
He coughed harshly and tried to suppress the cry of pain that tore from his raw throat. He clenched his eyes tightly as they moved him from the narrow gurney onto a
bed.
“Easy, Mr. Larabee, the doctor is on his way,” Pamela consoled the injured man.
“C...can’t b...bre...breath,” Larabee hissed painfully.
The door swung open and an older man and two women came into the room. The man stepped up to the bed and immediately began speaking, examining the injured
man as his team went to work. He lifted the lid from the right eye and quickly moved to the left. He could hear the panic in the victim’s breathing. “What’s your
name?” he asked.
“C...C...Chris,” the name seemed to be dragged from the man.
“Well, Chris, I’m Mike Carter and we’re gonna get you fixed right up,” he turned his attention to the heavy bruising on the patient’s left side as his shirt was cut from
his body. He felt around the area and listened carefully to his lungs. He put his hands on the bed and met the pained gaze. “Chris, you’ve got a couple of broken ribs,
one of which has punctured your lung. I’m gonna insert a chest tube and it should help you breathe easier. Alright?”
“O...Okay.”
“I’m going to have Pamela give you some morphine for the pain. Terry, get portable X-ray in here. I want a full chest and skull series. Chris, just relax for a couple of
minutes,” the doctor watched as his team inserted a second IV in Larabee’s arm. Another nurse hurried to the phone and put in a call to X-ray. A third was busy
setting up for the insertion of the tube in his patient’s chest. He looked down at his patient’s face as Chris erupted in a harsh series of coughs and black spittle
escaped from his mouth to stain the oxygen mask he wore. “It looks like he’s inhaled a lot of smoke. We’ll have to keep an eye on that.” He watched as Pamela
loaded a syringe with morphine and quickly injected it into the IV juncture in the newly inserted IV.
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