Page 3 of My Salvation
I hold up my hands, slide in front of the gunman, and drop down to check on Collin. It looks like he was shot in the stomach. My heart races as I check on my husband.
“Stand up!” the gunman, who I now realize is David Carson’s dad, screams at me. “Get up right now. You will answer for David’s death! For my son’s death.”
I look up at him, then back down at Collin. Roaring fills my ears as I watch the blood pour out of him. My mind immediately switches to ‘doctor’ mode. I need to stop the bleeding. I tear off my doctor’s coat, ball it up, and push down on Collin’s stomach. My hands check his pulse and reach for his eyes to look at his pupils. I flinch as two more gunshots ring out. Screams erupt as bodies drop behind me.
Mr. Carson screams at me, “I told you to stand up! If you don’t stand up immediately, I will keep shooting. If you care about these ‘innocent people,’ you will stand up immediately.”
If I stand up, Collin will bleed out. If I don’t stand up, another person will be shot, possibly die.
I’m trying to figure out what to do next when I see trembling hands lean over and move my hands off the coat. A shaky voice tells me, “I’ll take over, Dr. Michaels. I won’t let go of Collin. I promise.” Looking up, I see Lindsey, an oncology nurse, nod at me as she places her hands on my coat and puts pressure on Collin’s wound. Silently thanking her, I blink and slowly stand to face Mr. Carson.
“Mr. Carson, please don’t shoot anyone else. We can talk about David’s death...”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
My body slams backwards as the shots hit me. As I lay there, waiting for death, I continue to hear more shots being fired.
***
IN THE EARLY MORNINGhours, I wake with a cry, tears streaming down my face, my breath stalled as I’m locked into the past. My mind frantically tries to escape the images and sounds of gunshots bombarding my brain. My hands reach up and immediately trace the three points on my body to reassure myself I’m not bleeding. An image of Collin’s smiling face from the beach morphs into an image of him lying on the floor of the hospital, bleeding. Unable to breathe.
Inhaling sharply, I take in as much air as possible, then hold it for a second to gain some control before exhaling. Again. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. I lay there, steadily breathing in and out.
As my breathing techniques start working, I pull my mind back from the ledge by using my lists. First I list the 206 bones in the body, then the 200 distinct types of cells, and as I get into the list of 650 muscles, I finally feel calm and in control.
Love, guilt, anger, and grief are all swirling around in my brain. The guilt, more than anything, destroys my peace, so I get up. I can’t sleep, I can’t find a bottle and oblivion, so I might as well get up, jump in the shower, and try to wash these memories down the drain.
The hotel offers a free buffet starting at seven, so I go downstairs to grab some coffee and breakfast. My appetite is fairly non-existent, but I still portion out a spoonful of scrambled eggs and slice of toast. Thankful for this piece of normalcy, I find a spot in the sunshine to eat my breakfast and chase away the darkness.
After I check out, I wait inside the hotel for a few minutes while I remotely start the SUV. I can’t stand the cold, and while it might be March, it’s still winter in Montana. I glance at my phone and check the traffic and route to my destination, just to make sure no accidents or road work will cause a delay or detour. Stepping outside, I inhale a brisk breath of air.
Freaking A, it’s cold!
I jog to my vehicle, put my overnight bag in the back seat, and get comfortable for today’s drive. My new “temporary” home is about three hours away in a tiny town nestled between Bozeman and Helena called Lockeland Valley, Montana. I’m hoping to get in around eleven so I can look around town before meeting Lev at the practice.
CHAPTER 2
