Page 7 of Sustain

“Right then. We’d best get moving.”

The sooner we get off this peak, the better our chances if this storm hits full force. I just hope we beat the worst of it in time. Mackenzie’s faced enough peril already today without that.

The patrol squad swarms around Mackenzie, movements urgent but precise. One medic begins cutting away her ski pant leg to expose the injury while another prepares an inflatable splint. I avert my eyes as fabric tears, not wanting to infringe on her privacy.

The medics work wordlessly, communicating through loaded glances and terse gestures. A neck brace is settled despite Mackenzie’s protests. They slide an insulation pad underneath before immobilizing her entire leg under the hardened splint.

“That should hold it for transport,” the lead medic confirms, and I see Mackenzie exhale in relief

I catch the hints of purple mottling and swelling distorting her limb where they cut away the pant leg. Bile burns the back of my throat. I squeeze her hand, wishing I could erase the trauma, both sustained and yet to come.

“Who the hell thought it was a good idea to attach slippery sticks to the bottom of your feet so you could slide down afucking mountain?” Mackenzie is griping to anyone who will listen as they carefully maneuver her onto the litter. “I mean, really. It’s stupid.”

Without disagreeing, I grab my slippery sticks, attach them to the bottoms of my feet, and slide down the mountain along with the rescue crew to the medical center.

Note to self: Buy Mackenzie a shirt that says, ‘I’m with stupid.’

five

. . .

Ghost Myself

Mackenzie

Pain I can handle. Even excruciating pain like I’m in now as they finish the x-rays on my leg in the resort medical center. However, I don’t do humiliation. It’s not in my repertoire of things I know how to deal with. My typical way of dealing with heavy emotions is either to get angry and tough it out while lashing out at the world or just the opposite - completely shutting down.

I haven’t been in a situation like this in a long time: having to deal with something major in front of someone important. Not that Ian is super important to me, but he is a pretty big deal at the label, and for me to just wipe out like that in front of him,andto have him basically rescue me is something I’m never going to be able to live down. Not within myself, anyway.

I am a smart woman. My friend Chelsie constantly tells me that I should be in MENSA, or be a doctor or something, but I don’t have patience for pretentious bullshit. That especially applies when it comes to guys. And especially musicians, or former musicians for that matter. So, I should know better than to get all worked up over Ian Summer. Besides, I think he’s married.

He’s the former lead singer of the band Corpse Limousine, and how he fell into the business side of things I have no idea. We’ve met several times over the years, but seeing him still sitting in the exam room after coming back from getting X-rays makes my heart skip a few beats.

“You’re still here, huh?” I ask, not sure how I feel about any of this. It’s one thing to rescue me in the moment, and a completely other thing to hang out while I get put back together. It’s above and beyond, and unexpected. “You don’t have to stick around. I’ll find my way back to my hotel.”

His green eyes crinkle as he smiles. He’s almost a different person when he does. Not that he’s ugly when he doesn’t, I’ve just never seen such a transformation with a smile. It’s devastating when the full effect of it is pointed at you. And his shaggy light brown hair that makes me want to run my fingers through it isn’t helping matters at all. If I was standing and my leg wasn’t splinted, my knees would totally be weak right now.

“You trying to get rid of me?” he chuckles. “You’re going to have to do better than that.” He gets up to help me get settled while we wait for results. “What can I get for you? Something hot to drink? Another blanket? Your lips still look a little blue…”

He’s such a worry wort. I never would have pegged him as the caretaker type. He always seemed a bit indifferent about anything and anyone around him. To see him so attentive to me is just weird.

“No. I’m fine. Really. Thanks though.”

This earns me a narrow-eyed squint of disbelief. “You’re a horrible liar, Mac.” He shoves his fists into his pockets, suddenly awkward. “I’m starting to feel a bit helpless here.”

“And I’m trying really hard to feel bad for you.”

“I can tell.” The smile is back, and I instantly feel a little bit better.

Sarcastic banter, I can do. And it is helping. Whether he knows it or not, just having him here with me is comforting.

“Thank you,” I say, serious for a change. I think the pain meds are kicking in. I’m feeling a bit sappy all of a sudden.

“For what?” He seems surprised that I would be grateful.

Now I’m not sure if I should be offended. “Everything. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.”

He nods, “Well, that was lucky, yes.” His cheeks redden a little, and my stomach does a small flip at the sight of it. “I’m just glad I was there and able to help. It was quite a crash.”

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