Carver

Chapter Eleven- Face to Face With Hell

Sarah fought with all of her might against the strong arm that was obscuring her breathing. She twisted her hips to both sides as she tried to wriggle out of the grip. Her mouth bobbed as she desperately tried to regain her breathing. She concentrated hard as her feet slipped against the floor. She felt her whole body sail through the air as she was thrown into the room. Her right shoulder crashed against the floor, followed closely by her head. Stars danced in front of Sarah’s eyes as she tried to push herself up from the floor. Her fingers numbly scrambled for her gun that had skidded a short distance away from her. Nigel Carter towered over the top of her. Sarah looked up with bleary eyes. Nigel delivered a harsh kick to Sarah’s abdomen. She coughed as she tried to regain her breath. Nigel brought his boot down hard on her fingers, the audible sound of bones cracking beneath his sole. Sarah gritted her teeth, determined that she would show the monster no weakness. Luke’s voice sounded, followed by footsteps.
“Sarah? Sarah? Everything okay?” Nigel menacingly hovered his boot over her battered hand in a stark warning. He reached down for Sarah’s gun and took it into his hands.
“In here! Third bedroom!” yelled Sarah. Nigel whirled around and struck her in the face with the butt of the gun, splitting her pale cheek. She gasped, blood trickling down her face. Luke’s footsteps quickened. Nigel turned towards the door, raised the gun and fired. Sarah was seeing double, but she was certain she saw Luke’s figure crumple to the ground.  Luke had indeed fallen. He clutched his left shoulder where the bullet had just missed his vest. Crimson liquid blossomed across his shirt. Nigel had two experienced agents in his claws. Luke raised his gun in his trembling, non-dominant hand and fired back. Nigel’s left leg disappeared underneath him as the bullet tore through his thigh. He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Dust and dirt clouded around him. Sarah managed to ease herself up to unsteady feet and stumbled towards the heap of a moaning man on the ground. She retrieved her firearm and pointed it at him. She had not anticipated that he would have a knife on him. A flash of a blade appeared before the blade was plunged deep into her foot. She groaned in pain and fired involuntarily in reflex. Nigel stilled, eyes wide and unblinking, a neat hole in his forehead. With the knife still protruding out of the top of her foot, Sarah stepped over the man in front of her and used the walls to guide herself towards Luke who lay on the ground, his teeth gritted in agony. Blood spilled between his fingers. Sarah dropped heavily to her knees. She ignored the sharp pinch of the knife being jostled in her foot and pressed a hand to Luke’s shoulder. Luke’s eyes sprung open and stared directly into Sarah’s. Sarah spoke quickly into the microphone clipped to her vest.
“This is SSA Carver. I need medics at 556 Rossworth Way. Agent down. I repeat, agent down.” Luke gave a smile, pained smile.
“Better make that two.” Luke had noticed that Sarah’s eyes were unfocussed and her skin had turned a sickly shade of gray. The fingers on her right hand has turned an alarming shade of black, blue and purple. Sarah’s eyes rolled back into her head as she slumped over onto Luke, her hand still pressed against his wound.

A blinding white light was the first thing that Sarah saw as she peeled her eyes open. She questioned whether or not this was the white light many associated with death. Though, as her vision came back into focus, this was not the case. Blurry at first, Sarah came to realize that she was in the back of an ambulance. Her body jostled on the gurney periodically as the vehicle made turns or hit bumps in the road. A face loomed over hers, shining a pen torch in her eyes. Sarah groaned at the agony piercing through her skull.
“Agent Carver? I’m Susie. You’re in safe hands now.” Sarah reached up and pulled the oxygen mask down from over her face.
“What happened?” asked Sarah groggily.
“You have a mild concussion. I suspect you have some broken fingers and a broken rib. We’ll get the knife removed at the hospital.”
“Luke? Where is he? Is he okay?” Susie reached over and placed the mask back over her patient’s face.
“He’s on the other bus. I won’t know until we’re at the hospital.” Realizing that she was not going to get any information, Sarah succumbed to the tiredness that was spreading throughout every fiber of her being.

  Sarah grew increasingly frustrated with each passing hour in the hospital. Bandages had been wrapped into a bizarre linen boot around the protruding weapon in her foot. She had been poked and prodded from several different professionals and it had started to test her patience. A large bruise had formed on her forehead above her eyebrow from the collision with the wooden floor. A dressing had been taped over the neatly stitched wound on her cheek which partially obscured her vision. Her second and third fingers on her right hand had been strapped together with medical tape, a soft piece of gauze providing cushioning between the two heavily bruised appendages. She had heard nothing about Luke which caused her a great deal of anxiety. A male nurse drew back the blue curtain around the bed that Sarah occupied and picked up the clipboard from the foot of the bed. Sarah narrowed her eyes at the unsuspecting man and curled the fingers of her left hand into a fist.
“What is going on?” asked Sarah through clenched teeth. The nurse raised an eyebrow as he lifted his head to look at her.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve been here for hours. I have a knife in my foot, no one is telling me what is going on and I have no idea how my partner is! Why won’t any of you tell me a damned thing?”
“The doctor will be here shortly to discuss the findings of your scans. I have no information about your partner.”
“Well, here’s an idea for you, genius, go and find me some information, or even someone with enough of a brain cell to actually help me!”
“Ms Carver-“
“Agent Carver.”
“Agent Carver.” Sarah snapped her head up at a stern-looking, older man who had silently sidled up beside the nurse. He had a gray mustache and short cropped hair, reminding Sarah of an army drill sergeant. He wore dark green scrubs under a pristine white coat. A pair of round, wire spectacles balanced on his bulbous nose, “I am Doctor Matfen. Making a fuss in my ER, I see?” Sarah scowled at him, a snarl tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Don’t you dare-“ growled Sarah in a low, dangerous voice.
“Be quiet, agent, and listen. You have a mild concussion so you will experience some intense headaches for a while-“
“More intense than the migraines? Jesus. Don’t patronize me.”
“Yes, yes. Your CT scan shows a lesion in the temporal lobe of your brain. Your migraines will increase in intensity until the concussion resolves. Neurologists are going to meet with you to discuss your options. You have broken your middle and ring proximal phalanges. You have also fractured your sixth rib on the left. We don’t need to give you any further treatment for those. As for the knife, it has missed the major structures of the foot so we can go ahead and remove it. Any questions?” Sarah stared at her blanket in disbelief, as if her entire world had flipped upside down, “Agent Carver? Do you have any questions?”
“How is Luke?” pressed out Sarah, her voice strained with emotion.
“Luke?” asked Doctor Matfen.
“My partner. Luke Morrison. He was shot. I need to know if he’s okay.” Doctor Matfen cleared his throat.
“Agent Morrison is fine. He may have some trouble with his fine motor skills for now in that hand but I’m confident that he’ll recover with physical therapy.” Sarah lay back into her pillows and sighed.
“I have to see him. Please.” Sarah hated herself for begging, and for the show of weakness in her voice. Doctor Matfen nodded to the nurse who silently slipped out of the cubicle.
“We’ll see how he is feeling. In the meantime, we need to get this knife out of your foot.”
“Doctor?” Sarah’s voice was small and child-like, a startling contrast to a few moments prior. Doctor Matfen’s face softened.
“Yes?”
“In your professional opinion... This lesion... Is it... That?” Doctor Matfen gave out a long solemn sigh.
“Most likely. The neurologist will review your CT scan and your previous MRI. I’m afraid it’s not in my remit to run through options and prognoses with you.” Sarah nodded sadly, her eyes fixed on her hands folded on her lap. The last time Sarah felt so lost, she was receiving that dreaded call from the local police.

“Sarah Carver?” came the raspy voice of a police officer.
“Speaking.”
“My name is Officer Eckhart of the Brooklyn Police Department. I’m calling in relation to Danny Fairfax.” Sarah straightened in her swivel chair.
“What happened?”
“There has been an RTA at the junction of 1st and 22nd.  A blue sedan has collided with Mr Fairfax’s car at high speed. I’m afraid he was DOA.” Sarah’s hands trembled, tears threatening her lower lashes.
“DOA?”
“Afraid so, ma’am. The other driver was also DOA. There were empty vodka bottles in the foot well of the vehicle. We’re waiting for tox but we suspect that the driver was under the influence. I’m very sorry for your loss. Could you come to the ME office so that we can make formal identification?”
“Sure.” Sarah promptly hung up the call. She stared at the bouquet of lilies that rested on her desk. He had only been gone a matter of minutes. Six minutes was all it took for his life to be ripped away from him. Sarah’s heart shattered into a million pieces in that single moment.