Page 48 of Storm of Stars
“AED pads. Syringe…adrenaline.” She read off the list. “There’s a chart, wait, I’ve got it.” Bex yanked the supplies she’d previously sorted into the ‘what the fuck is this’ pile. Her fingers trembled, but her grip was sure. “Turn on that machine.” She said pointing at a bulky device. I quickly turned it on, it whirred to life.
I stayed by Ezra’s side, watching helplessly as she worked. Her face was pale under the flickering light, her hair matted to her face with sweat and soot. She pressed the pads to Ezra’s chest, following the instructions in the manual like her life depended on it. Because his did.
“Nobody touch him,” she barked, all of us pulled our hands away and watched her.
She hit the button.
Ezra’s body jerked once, violently.
“Fuck,” she cried.
Still nothing.
Another shock.
“No no no no no no. I’m so sorry, Ezra,” she cried out, tears streaming down her face. My vision blurred as my own tears began to pour. We couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not now.
Then,beep… beep…
A ragged sob escaped Briar. And someone gasped. I realized it was me. Ezra’s pulse was back. Shallow. Weak. But back.
“We need to,” she closed her eyes recalling the words on the page she’d just read. “Give him fluids,” Bex said, her voice a hoarse whisper. She was swaying now, tilting slightly as she crouched beside him.
“Bex,” I said quietly, moving toward her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her answer was automatic. Too fast. She pressed gauze to Ezra’s burns and fumbled with a vial of fluid. Her fingers slipped. The vial clattered to the floor. She didn’t go after it.
I stepped forward, catching her elbow as she tried to rise. “You’re not fine. You’re…”
“Not now,” she snapped, her voice sharper than a blade. “Not until he’s okay.” She grabbed another vial with shaking hands and attached it to an IV, threading the line with frantic determination.
But her body gave out before her will did.
She slumped forward, catching herself on the edge of the bed with a weak grunt before her knees buckled. I caught her just before she hit the floor.
“Bex!” Briar cried, rushing to her.
“She’s out cold,” I said, easing her to the ground. The puddle of blood pouring from her leg was gushing now. “Shit. She’s burning up. And she’s bleeding out.”
“She needs meds too,” Briar whispered, brushing hair from Bex’s face.
“I’ll take care of Ezra, You go focus on her” Devrin said suddenly, reaching for the creams and gauze on the supply tray. His voice was calm, steady.
I stepped between him and the bed, my body locking like a wall of iron. “Like hell. I’m not leaving him with you.”
Devrin didn’t flinch. He met my glare dead-on, focused. “His story doesn’t end like this.”
That made me falter. Just a fraction of a second. My mother’s voice echoed in my head, those same words wrapped in a lullaby of defiance.
Something shifted in me.
“Take care of him. Okay?” I said, with a quick nod, and turned to Briar. “Get her on another bed. Now.”
Briar was already moving, ripping the dust covered sheet off the nearest cot. We got Bex between us, barely able to lift her deadweight. Her skin was pale and tacky with sweat, and her breathing had grown too shallow.
“Lark!” Briar barked. “Book. Blood loss. Find it.”
Lark scrambled, fumbling through the mess of medical textbooks like they might explode. His hands shook so hard I thought the pages might tear. He landed on a thick volume, nodding at me with wide eyes. “Got it.”
