The Saving Grace

Chapter 2

There was no time to explain as the truck came to a screeching halt, jostling both Holly and the young man in the bed. Harold was already rushing inside as Holly jumped out of the back and put the tailgate down. She grabbed the man by his feet and pulled him closer to the edge. The movement only made him hiss out in pain and grunt. "I'm sorry," she whispered as the old man came running back out with a couple of nurses and a stretched. It was then that they were able to hoist him onto the bed and push in inside. Holly took hold of the man's hand as she raced along side the stretcher into the hospital ward.

"It's going to be alright, they'll take care of you now. You're gonna be alright," the young woman drawled out as nurses and attendants rushed around her. Giving the doctor some room to take a look. The young man squeezed her hand as the doc pulled on the makeshift tourniquet.

"Looks like a punctured artery. Get me some sutures, stat." The doctor looked down one more time, lifting up the handkerchief once more. "Did you apply this tourniquet?" he asked, turning to Holly. She was almost taken aback by his question, because he had almost seemed to just realize she was there.

"Yes," she stated simply, finally letting go of the man's hand so that the doctor could take over. She glanced down at his pained face and bloodied torso before looking back up at the older man in front of her.

He seemed surprised, but made a face of approval and nodded his head to her. "Good work. You probably just saved this man's life."

A rush of breath left Holly as she backed away slowly from the now on going operation preparation in front of her. The doctor's words rang in her ears. She very well could have saved his life! She never thought she would be the one to help. Once upon a time she would have been filled with panic. The girl was actually filled with disbelief as her back hit the wall gently. It felt so surreal, being covered in the blood of another and watching a he was rolled away to be operated on.

Through the hazy trance that she had fallen into came a very familiar voice, and a hand grabbing onto her shoulder. Holly jumped and spun to face the person who had jolted her back into reality. It was Beyah, her older sister. Worry wrinkles cut valleys in the older female's forehead, blue eyes filled to the brim with concern. "Holly, dear god child! Are you alright? It ain't your blood is it?" Beyah asked searching all over for non existent wounds. Holly let out a sigh and smiled at her beloved sister.

"No, no it ain't mine. Someone got hurt in town today. I kept him from bleeding out as Harold drove us here. You don't have to worry about me, sis." Holly places a hand on her sister's arm as she let out a deep breath and called herself.

"Good. It's just... I saw all that blood on you. I could only think the worst." Beyah breathed as sigh or relief and hugged her sister tight. Holly hugged her back, neither one of them affected by the blood that has soaked through Holly's clothing. "As long as you are alright. Now, what are we going to do about your bloody clothes? We can't have you walking around like that," the older woman chided as she stepped back to look at the mess that was her sister. Holly shook her head with a s small smile stuck to her face.

"Don't worry about me, sis. I'll be fine. I should be heading home. Ms Beckham should has some spare clothes I can borrow once I get to the shop." Beyah was about to argue with Holly when her name was called across the room by another nurse. With a sigh, the older woman clasped Holly on the shoulders and wished her farewell before leaving to help her coworker. Again, Holly was left to her own thoughts as people bustled around her in the hallway of the hospital. It has been that once, hospitals gave her the feeling of anxiety and claustrophobia. Over the years, it had gotten better, seeing as she wasn't the patient being cooped up here. She sighed and turned, ready to leave anyways. There was no need for her anymore. She was only taking up space.

Moving through the small, not so crowded hallways, Holly found the entrance again. Surprisingly she didn't get lost along the way. Previously she had not been paying attention to her path, seeing as she was almost dragged along by the young man holding onto her hand for dear life. Now she was not surrounded by nurses or doctors herding them through the halls. No, now she was standing outside the hospital alone. The breeze had picked up, she thought to herself. I also have a long walk home, was another thought that raced through her mind. With the six mile walk back, she better get started. Huffing as she bounced down the stone steps of the entrance of the building, Holly straightened out her clothing, hoping to conceal at least a little of the blood that stained her trousers and blouse. "Need a ride?" came a familiar voice from in front of her. Mildly started, the young woman looked up to see that Harold and the other man from town were still waiting by the front, pick up truck running.

Holly smiled, grateful that Harold had stuck around. "Yes please," she laughed out as she ran to hop into the bed of the truck. Both men climbed into the cab of the truck as Holly situated herself in the bed, away from the blood that still sat on the metal surface. It had even yet to dry, still gleaming in the sun, wet and viscous. It brought her to almost a solemn attitude. It was lucky that that man had decided to fix his truck in town. He could have died if he were alone. Holly soon became lost in thought. It felt good to know that she had saved a life. Not that she wanted to be boastful or overconfident about it. But, she had never seen herself as someone who could keep such a cool head in such a turbulent situation. It caused her to think again on the option of becoming a nurse at the hospital with her sister.

Before long, Harold was stopping his truck in front of Ms Beckham's alteration shop. Had she really been in thought that long? "Here's your stop, Holly. I'm sure Elaine can get you fixed up with those bloody lookin' clothes you got on," Harold said out the driver's side window. Holly hopped down from the bed of the truck and turned to the old courthouse clerk.

"Thanks again, Mr. Beckham. You better get your tuck washed before you can't get the blood off," Holly warned before waving and stepping into the shop. Elaine Beckham was an older lady, just a few years shy of being sixty. She was the younger sister of Harold, who was almost five years older than her. Elaine had never married in her youth. Instead, having been a seamstress for the navy years ago during the war with Honix. She had not seen the battle, but she could tell you stories of the soldiers she had met in her time. Even still, she altered uniforms for some of the local young men who had joined the military. Though, the older woman had an attitude that could suggest she had been a soldier herself. She was one reason Holly enjoyed her work. It was like having a grumpy grandmother around who cared maybe just a little too much for you. But Elaine still had her soft spots.

"Good Lord child. Look at you, comin' in 'ere lookin' like you've seen war!" The old woman cried from behind the counter. Holly looked a tad sheepish as her employer rounded the counter to come get a better look at her. "Surely that ain't your blood, dear." There was concern in her voice, even though Elaine's face still showed its stern mask.

"No ma'am. It ain't mine. There was an accident earlier. I helped the young man to the hospital with Mr. Beckham and another one of the men in town." Tension released in Elaine's shoulders as she heard Holly's explanation of the blood covering most of her front half. "I was actually hoping we had a spare set of clothes 'round here for me to change into." Again, Holly was sheepish, asking for the favor. Even if it was a dress, she wouldn't care. The blood soaked clothes were actually becoming stiff and sticky. And Elaine has running water, a rarity for Holly since she still lived on the old farm.

Elaine tsked at her before smiling. "Of course. We don't carry trousers that fit you, but I'm sure you can find a dress 'er two t' fit you. Hurry and clean up. We got work t' do." With an eager not, Holly scurried past the older lady and into the small storage room where they kept extras of what was on display. Just picking randomly from what looked like it would fit her, Holly chose a red dress that very much looked like it belonged on a high class lady, and a spare pair of shoes that was not on display. Obviously her boots would not look good with the dress, and even they were covered in some amount of blood. Then, without messing up her new clothes, Holly rushed up the stairs to Elaine's loft apartment above the shop. It was there that she was able to wipe the drying blood off of her skin and change into something more decent.