“He brought it on himself,” I mutter. “He deserves it.”
I round a corner and feel a lightning bolt of pain lance through my entire body. I cling to the wall for support, but it's so blinding and intense, my knees buckle and the next thing I know, I'm on the ground. A crowd has gathered around me, people looking at and talking to each other, a few of them shouting questions at me. I groan loudly as I'm riddled by another sharp burst of pain.
It's then I realize that something isn't right. No, something is, in fact, very, very wrong. My vision is starting to darken and all of the noise on the street around me takes on a fuzzy, muted sound to it – almost like I'm hearing everything from underwater or something.
“Just hold on,” somebody in the crowd says. “We've called an ambulance.”
All I can do is sit there, moaning as more, fresh pain tears through my body. I don't know what's happening. Hell, I don't know if I'm going to last until the ambulance gets here. There's a sticky wetness between my thighs I know this isn't normal, but I don't want to look down and see how bad it is.
I'm suddenly tired. Exhausted, actually. My whole body seems to be shutting down and I want nothing more at that moment than to lean into the warm embrace of sleep. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes, waiting for the darkness to sweep me away. Maybe even welcoming it.
“Alexis. Alexis.”
The sound of somebody speaking my name fills my ears, though it sounds like it's coming from a thousand miles away.
“I just want to sleep,” I mutter.
“Alexis,” my name being called is this time punctuated by a sharp slap to my cheek.
I open my eyes, irritated that my sleep is being interrupted – and find Duncan Clyburne gazing back at me. There's an intense, fevered light in his eyes – and also an expression of fear. Is this real? Is it just a dream? At the moment, my head feels so stuffed with cotton, I can't tell.
Another sharp slap answers the question for me. My cheek burns where he smacked me and I'm suddenly feeling a bit more alert.
“Stay with me,” Duncan demands. “Everything's going to be okay. I just need you to stay awake.”
“Duncan,” I say, my voice weak. “How did you get here?”
“I'm here, Alexis,” he says. “We need to get you somewhere else.”
“Okay,” I whisper, starting to feel like I'm drifting off again.
The next thing I know, I feel like I'm floating through the air. Like I'm flying. I open my eyes and see that Duncan has me in his arms and is carrying me like I weigh nothing. He's pushing his way through the crowd, shouting at everybody to get out of our way. The people are hesitant, but part for us.
I have no idea what's happening to me. I know I should be scared, but with Duncan holding me, the only thing I feel is – content. I feel safe in his arms. Perhaps even happy.
“Stay with me, Alexis,” he says, his eyes fixed on mine.
Don't worry, Duncan – I'm not going anywhere.
Seventeen
Duncan
With Alexis in my arms, I push my way into a coffee house a couple of doors down from where she collapsed. It's not ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but I've worked in worse conditions. At least everything I experienced in Syria has a practical application for me now that I'm back here in New York.
“I need your back room,” I call out to the baristas as I head for the doors.
“I – I don't think you can bring her in here, man,” says some twenty-something kid who's probably stoned off his ass.
I ignore him and with a score of curious patrons watching us, I push through the swinging doors and step through into the back. I walk through the prep area and into the storeroom. It's not the most sanitary environment, but at least it's warm. It'll work. At least, for now.
“Excuse me, sir? Sir?” she calls to me. “You can't be back here.”
I glance over my shoulder at the diminutive blonde charging up to me, a look of pure determination on her face – she must be the manager or something. Ignoring her, I gently lay Alexis down on a table in the back room, then sweep the boxes that had been littering the surface to the floor. I'm vaguely aware of the sound of breaking glass coming from within a couple of the boxes.
“Sir,” the girl cries. “You can't do that. And you're going to have to pay for what you broke.”
I turn to her. “I need you to get me a large bowl full of hot water and some towels,” I instruct. “And you also need to call the ambulance. Tell them where the patient they're looking for is.”
“Sir, this is a coffee house, not a doctor's office –”
“A bowl of hot water and clean towels,” I snap, my voice gruff. “Get them for me now. And do not forget to call the ambulance.”
Alexis still seems to be drifting in and out of consciousness. I have no idea what Brad did to her, but if I see him again, I'm going to kill him. I take her wrist and check her pulse – it's racing but feels strong still. That's a good sign. Looking down, I purse my lips when I see the front of her dress is soaked in blood. That's not a good sign.
“Sir, I'm really going to have to insist that you –”
I round on the little blonde, absolute fury coursing through me. “If you don't do what I say – right now – this woman and her child are going to die,” I roar at her. “Is that what you want? Do you want her to die?”
The girl looks at me with a stricken expression, her eyes wide and filled with fear. She looks at Alexis as if actually seeing her for the first time – and notices the blood. Her face blanches and then looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack. Great. Just what I need.
“Look at me,” I tell her. “Look at me right now.”
She slowly manages to pry her eyes away from Alexis, then turns to me. I hold her with my gaze – and put every ounce of intensity I can muster into it.
“What's your name?” I ask.
“D – Debra,” she stutters.
“Okay, Debra. That's good,” I tell her, deliberately trying to sound calm. “I need to help this woman. She's in tremendous distress. I need to stabilize her until the medics arrive. I need to save her life – I need you to help me save her life. But I can only help her if you help me. Do you understand?”
She nods and suddenly doesn't seem capable of speaking.
“Good, Debra,” I say. “That's very good. Okay, I need you to get me a large bowl of hot water and some clean towels. Do you understand?”
She nods again, her eyes wide, her face seeming to grow paler by the second. Great. I hope she can manage to get me what I need before she passes out.
“Good,” I say. “Then off you go, Debra. Get those things to me as fast as you can.”
Debra turns and dashes back the way she came. I hear the clank and crash of things being tossed around in a frenzy. Good, that means she's getting me what I need. I turn my attention back to Alexis. Her eyes are fluttering open and closed and when I touch her forehead, she feels like she's burning up with a fever. Beads of sweat dot her brow, and she looks absolutely riddled with pain.
“Hang on, Alexis,” I whisper softly. “Help is coming.”
Debra comes back with water and towels as I asked. I take them from her and set them down on the table, then turn back to her.
“Have you called the paramedics yet?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her inability to speak obviously continuing.
“Okay, that's your next task,” I instruct. “Tell them where we are and to get here as fast as possible.”
Debra nods and then sprints back to the front of the store. I lift Alexis' dress, bunching it up around her waist to see what's happening. Her thighs are smeared with blood, making my heart sink. I use a pair of scissors on the table to cut off her panties – I need to see what's going on.
Dipping one of the towels into the water, I clean her up as best as I can. I look at Alexis' face and don't like her color. She's blanching and her pulse seems to be getting even threadier than before. Once I have her cleaned up and can actually see, I groan. I know exactly what's happening and I know just how fucked we are right now.
I have nothing to work with – no gloves, no medical bag, no medicines. Alexis' baby is coming – I have to assume all the stress of the evening forced her into early labor – but her baby is in the breech position. A tear in her perineum is what caused all of the bleeding. I'm guessing she had one hell of a contraction out on the street which caused the tear.
The loss of blood, along with all of the stress she's under, has caused her blood pressure to plummet, which is putting her on the verge of passing out. And I'm going to need her awake and alert. We can't wait for the paramedics to arrive – we're going to have to deliver this baby ourselves.
Without anything to help bring Alexis out of this pain-induced stupor, I'm going to have to rely on an old-fashioned remedy – pain. As much as I hate to cause her pain, there's no other choice. I can't leave her baby like it is for long or there could be some very big problems. The baby itself could very possibly die.
“This is going to hurt, Alexis,” I say. “And I'm sorry for that, but we have no options.”
She moans, but that's about it. Not that I expected much more.
“Oh my God.”
I turn and see Debra standing there with the phone still in her hand, her eyes fixed on the bloody rags. She looks like she's either seen a ghost or is about to pass out – and I can't afford for her to pass out.
“Debra,” I say. “I need your help.”
“What's happening to her?”
“I need you to hold her down. Stand at the head of the table, put your hands on her shoulders, and do not let her get up,” I insist. “Hold her down tight.”