S1W49: “Out of Time”

© 2012 Phylicia Joannis

“I think he’s dead.”

The old woman placed a hand to her mouth as she lifted the limp arm of Dreadlock. The Nurse knelt beside him, face grim and hands firm, and placed two fingers on his neck. She waited a moment, then placed two fingers on his wrist. The Climber watched in numb silence as the Nurse shook her head.

“He’s gone,” she whispered softly and quickly wiped away a stray tear from her face, though in this dark tunnel no one could see it. “I couldn’t save him.”

“You did everything you could,” the Old Woman placed a hand on her shoulder. “You kept him alive for as long as you could. No one could have done better.”

“But he’s dead now,” the Nurse shook her head. “And if we don’t get help soon, he’ll be dead soon, too.” The Nurse tilted her head towards the Congressman and all eyes followed. He’d been in and out of consciousness for several minutes, no one knew how long.

“The girl will bring help,” the Climber offered. “She’s resilient. She’ll pull through for us.”

“In the meantime we can watch each other die,” the Nurse spoke with a bitter tone.

“Hey, none of that,” the Climber’s voice was firm. “We’re going to make it. We just need a distraction to keep our minds off the current situation. Hey, Old Lady, you got any more stories?”

The Old Woman shook her head. “None come to mind.”

The Climber sighed. “Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to bore you with my life story.”

“This should be rich,” the Nurse scoffed.

“Actually, it will be,” the Climber smirked. “Rich, and uh, colorful.”

***

I opened my eyes to a blurry room. My head was pounding, but I knew I was safe. I was no stranger to hospitals. Judging by the exuberance behind the curtain to my right, the patient beside me must have had visitors.

I listened a few moments to the people beside me. There was a man praying out loud and two female voices making occasional remarks to something he said. They went on like this for a few minutes, and I listened, strangely comforted by the words the man was speaking. Then I remembered there were four people trapped in a tunnel counting on me to get them out. I jumped out of the bed, looking for my shoes. A wave of nausea crashed into me like a tsunami, and I found myself pitching forward towards the floor. A pair of strong hands gripped my forearms and kept me from landing head first on the floor.

“Whoa there!” a young voice spoke softly. “You got a bad habit of falling, Miss.”

Bile rose to my throat and I grabbed for something, anything, to keep me from retching all over the poor guy. I found an empty bed pan just in time. He didn’t seem bothered by me puking my guts out, which meant he was really cool, or really creepy. From my experience, he was probably creepy.

“I don’t know if you remember or not, but you fell and hit your head on the ground,” he continued. “I was getting out of a cab when I saw you.”

I eyed him warily. “Who are you?” I rasped. My head was pounding, and I was having trouble focusing.

“Marcos,” he replied with a grin. “I was in the neighborhood, and, well, when I saw you, I called an ambulance. They asked me if I wanted to come along and I did. Do you have any family, or any one you need to call?”

“My father!” I exclaimed, my head clearing. “He’s trapped! And the others! We need to get help, now!”

The force of my words proved too much, and I collapsed on the bed in fatigue. My eyelids felt like lead.

“Trapped where?” Marcos asked. He looked genuinely concerned.

“The sinkhole,” I cried weakly. I was so tired.

“There were a lot of those today. You remember which one?” Marcos asked.

I shook my head. What were those cross streets? Why couldn’t I remember?

“Was it close to where I found you?” Marcos prodded.

I nodded my head yes. Think!

“I left my scarf!” I exclaimed hysterically.

“It’s okay, I can get you another,” Marcos stated calmly.

“No!” I shook my head. “By the hole. I wrapped my scarf on something to mark the hole!”

“Okay,” Marcos nodded. “I’ll go get help. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can.”

“I’m coming,” I took a step and my world began to spin.

“You should stay here,” Marcos chided, guiding me back to my bed. “I know you don’t know me, but you can trust me. I promise.”

I nodded my consent. “Please hurry,” I whispered, my voice fading. “He needs a doctor.”

Marcos left the room as quickly as he’d entered, and I sank into my bed. I hoped he would reach them in time.