-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Goodbye Cruel World -*- Copyright 2004 by Ellen Hayes. Any resemblance between the writings in this work, and any actual persons or places, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except when used for satirical purposes. This work contains adult situations, adult language, adult concepts, and possibly sex. If you are legally not allowed to read materials containing such things, then you will be breaking the law by reading this. I am not responsible. Continuing to read this document, or storing it or reproducing it in any format means that you explicitly affirm that you are legally allowed to possess and read such materials in your city, county/parish, state, and country. All rights reserved. See the bottom for distribution rights. Goodbye Cruel World *** "Kim? Bad news, sort of..." Debbie announced. "What?" "I think someone slashed the tires on Mike's car," she said. "What?!" "I just heard from Billy Washam, he saw a car out in the parking lot, and his description sounds like Mike's car. And they got at least two tires..." "Aw, SHIT!" Kim complained. "Who-" "I dunno," Debbie shrugged. "I haven't heard anything about who could have done it yet. I'll..." 'Keep my ears open, and tell you if I hear anything,' was something that shouldn't be said out loud in a crowded hallway, but Kim heard it anyway, and nodded. *** Paul settled back into his seat, and as he turned to his computer and saw an overly familiar and very unwelcome blue screen staring back at him, his mind went to Eugene and Valerie. *** "No, wait, I know what to do..." *** "That little faggot Tuck and his little girlfriend," Ginger heard, and she clamped down and stopped pissing so she could hear. "What, Debbie?" "No!" complained the first voice. "The fish brat, the one that hangs with them in Geekville during lunch, you know-" "Oh yeah, the dykeling," the second commented scornfully. "Yeah, aren't those two made for each other? I think they're gonna start switching clothes soon, I mean, JEEZUS have you seen what the little fag looks like lately? I swear, I saw him wearing makeup the other day?" "No shit? GOD what a queer!" "For real!" Ginger doubted that Tuck had been wearing makeup at school; he wasn't that stupid, for one thing. But she had noticed that he was starting to look more effeminate, ever since that party where the girls had put makeup on him... *Maybe I ought to tell George?* she wondered, chewing on her lip. "I wish somebody would beat the shit out of the little faggot, show him what-" "Oh, he's gonna get it. Kyle said that he was gonna kick the fag's ass for what he did..." The first thing any of them would do is ask her who had been talking, which is why she pulled her underwear and jeans up and flushed and got out of the stall as quickly as possible. She could see the face of one girl at the sink, Carol Daley, which allowed Ginger to deduce that the other one was Jordan Tessier; the two of them ran around a lot together, being that both were cheerleaders and Jordan couldn't wipe her own ass without an audience to show off for. She found a sink as far away from them as she could to wash her own hands, and she heard them leaving. *** "How do you know the locker combination?" "She got the lock from me, after she lost hers, a couple-" "How do you LOSE a locker lock?" *** Mike was not happy, and not just because he was running laps for gym class. *Man, today has just sucked...* he sighed, looking up at the sky and wondering if it was ever going to start chilling down for winter. *This heat...* Tuck was starting to worry him. Ever since his mom had caught him at the mall a week ago, it was as if he'd given up trying to keep his Valerie separate from his Eugene. He'd heard more than one comment about Tuck 'finally coming out of the closet' this week, and it wasn't a good thing, even if it wasn't connected to him, which it often was. The shit being thrown Tuck's way was starting to fall more and more on his friends, too; that wasn't good. *I hope nothing interferes with the phone call tonight,* he thought as he plodded along. *I NEED to talk to him about that, remind him...* *** "Oh, man... That is awesome!" *** "Paul?" Paul Dobson looked up at the sound of Antonio Ortega's voice. "You said to keep an eye on the Tucker kid..." Tony shook his head. "He skipped class today." "He what?" "He wasn't there-" "He was in here at lunch..." Paul said as he stood up from his desk. "Very eager to get to your class, too; said it was one of the few good things about school." "He did?" Tony asked, surprised. His phone rang, and he looked down at it in annoyance. "Tony, you're off at the moment, right? Go check with Ransom," a rather ironic name for someone monitoring children, "and see if he left early." "He really said that?" he asked over the phone's ring. "He said it today," Paul articulated, worried and needing Tony to understand, and quickly. "And he was sincere, and now you tell me he wasn't there in class?" "Ahhh," Tony nodded, and left without a further word. Paul picked up the phone. *** Debbie sighed as she looked over her government test, thinking about her work schedule today. *Jeez, I hope that little shit doesn't cause me any more problems... Or his stupid parents.* The absolute last thing she needed was to get sued by irate parents for child abuse stemming from one of her employees. *Maybe I should just fire him? But they asked for her specifically... Shit. Shit shit shit... I should never have gone out with him,* she told herself for the thousandth time. *And I should never have hired her once I dated him. Damnit, I KNOW better than that!* Not hiring her would have made a great deal of the last few months a lot simpler... *** Mike shook his head as he looked at his locker. "Something...Uh," he grunted as someone hit him painfully on the shoulder. "C'mawn, fag, MOVEIT!" bellowed some asshole. *Calls me a fag but I'm the one that has to avoid the showers...* he thought as he moved out of the way, and shivered for a moment. He made sure he had enough room away from everyone else so he could put on his pants, and that was all he needed; he could finally get the hell out of there. *** *At least this year,* Shannon mused as she shut her locker door, *we have special gym last period, so we don't have to spend all afternoon at practice. Even if it does mean I have to run my ass off between seventh and eighth...* *** *I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little- death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer...* *** As Shannon tied her shoes, she pointed out, "Twelve after, Ashlee; you'd better get moving." "Where the hell's my uniform?" Ashlee complained as she slammed her locker shut. "I had a clean one here..." "You've got another one in your bag," Shannon pointed out. Ashlee sighed like Shannon was the one being stupid here. "If I use this one, then I won't have one for tomorrow." "Have you ever encountered the concept of 'laundry', Ash?" "Fuck off! Where the hell is it?" "I didn't take it!" Shannon shot back as she stood up. "Man, I KNOW it was here yesterday..." She shook her head as she looked around the locker room, as if she could figure it out that way. *** Mike was walking by the trash when a trivial glance into the barrel stopped him. *Something's...* Anomalous enough to catch his attention, it was also anomalous enough to trigger his curiosity. Ignoring the two-way flood of students along the hallway, he dug through the trash, which looked exactly like trash- *That's cloth.* He yanked on the item and came up with a ragged black... thing. *Maybe a shirt? And there's something else under... Oh great,* he sighed as he pulled out a large plaid flannel shirt. *Someone's clothes got tossed; must've forgotten to lock their locker. Man, whoever it is is gonna be pissed...* He went back towards the locker room to see if anyone was standing around looking confused and angry, like he'd done when it had happened to him. *** "I just can't figure it out," Ashlee complained to Shannon. "Well, figure it out LATER, or we are gonna be LATE," she complained back. "You know how she is. We gotta go-" "Wait, the door's open," Ashlee mentioned as she walked over to the janitor's closet. "No it isn't-" "Just a bit, like someone didn't shut it all the way," Ashlee mentioned as she pulled the door open. *** Mike pushed the trash barrel over, and garbage spilled all over the floor. "No, see?" he said to Brett as he hauled on the handle and trash spilled out in a long line. Mixed in with the trash were the shirt he'd pulled out, a white sock, a pair of briefs... "You're cleaning this up, not-" "The fuck? Oh no oh no," he gasped as he dove into the garbage and came up with a black backpack. "It's Tuck's pack!" "Wh-" Mike frantically explained as he pawed at it, "He kept his computer in here, he'd never leave this-" *No laptop?* He knew instantly that Tucker was in some terribly deep shit; it took him a few agonized paralytic seconds before he could get control of his body back and grab Tucker's pack, stand up, and start to run. And now he knew what the black thing was; it was the pants Tuck had been wearing. *** "Oh my GOD you little FREAK! What the hell were you DOING?!" Ashlee screamed in rage as she pulled someone- *Well, that's where her uniform w-* "TUCKER?!" Shannon gasped in shock. Beneath the really badly done makeup, she could just barely recognize the fag that was in her cosmetology class, as Ashlee yanked him to his feet and out of the janitor's closet. "What the fuck are you-" Ashlee, apparently beyond words at this point, yanked him forward and pushed him violently around in a circle until he ran into a locker, just getting an arm up over his face before impact. Shannon got a glimpse of both a stuffed bra and a wet black nylon-covered buttock as she did. "OhmyGODhewasJERKINGOFFwhileWEARINGherCLOTHES?!" Jordan shrieked, and Shannon gagged. *** Tucker realized dully, *I am going to die here if I don't-* As she pulled him back from the locker so she could slam him into it again, he turned and reached out, grabbed and twisted as hard as he could. The scream was deafening, and he almost took a fingernail in the eye as she reacted violently- *** Mike just barely detected the the anguished scream and almost fell over himself reversing his headlong sprint. When he started moving the other way, he knocked other people over, swimming against the crowd to get to the door of the girl's locker room- As he threw his body through the first pair of doors, he could hear the girls screaming in rage and some metallic sounds that he recognized as something hitting sheet steel, and when he got through the second set of doors he could see a cluster of cheerleaders from which all the noise was coming; and he knew Tucker was dying in there. "YAHHHHHH!" Mike yelled as he kicked one in the back of her knee, grabbed another and yanked her over the first one, and dodged into the gap in the ring. Tucker was barely standing, blood and spit dribbling out of his slack mouth and his nose, garish makeup smeared on his face, wearing a torn cheerleader outfit, and some bitch was holding him up so another one could slug him. He grabbed the puncher's elbow and twisted his body, using his momentum to pull her backwards, slammed a hand into her face as she fell, and continued his spin to kick the one holding Tucker in the head. Tucker lurched towards him, so Mike bent down and stumbled to his side, caught him by the waist, grabbed his shoulder, and twisted to get Tucker in a fireman's carry before anyone could stop him. Roughly forward was another door, this one into a gym rather than back into the hallway, but it was relatively unguarded, so he charged that way. *** Miranda Walls was just heading to investigate the reason why several of her cheerleaders were screaming inside the locker room instead of out here in a basketball court, when the door was flung open and some Asian kid stumbled out in frantic haste, carrying what looked like one of her girls slung over his shoulder. "Whatinhell-" "CALL NINE ONE ONE!" the Asian kid screamed, as he didn't stop and the door behind him burst open again to emit several of her girls- "GET OXYGEN!" the kid yelled again. "HE'S HAVING AN ASTHMA ATTACK! CALL NINE ONE ONE FOR TRAUMAFLIGHT _NOW_!" The girl he was carrying was visibly dripping blood, and that was what galvanized her to grab Holly Porter's arm. "Go to my office and get the oxygen set!" she ordered and ran after the kid. *** "Oh shit oh shit oh shit..." Mike finally got to a defensible place in the gym and put Tucker down, spinning immediately to fend off- *Coach, no threat,* he recognized, and dropped to his knees and yanked Tucker's pack off his own back. Tucker looked worse than Mike had ever seen before- "Oh shit oh shit oh-" "What happened?" "Call 911 goddamnit!" Mike cursed at the idiot as he flew through he utility section of Tucker's pack, finally finding the seat belt cutter and yanking it out. *** Miranda was still trying to comprehend what was going on when the thunder of sneakers told her that others were coming. She turned around, and realized that her girls were not coming over to help, they were coming over to finish whatever they'd started. "STOP RIGHT THERE!" she thundered, and they did. A couple of shocked looks and a half-raised pointing arm made her look behind her, and the Asian kid was holding something, which he- -slashed downwards violently- *OhmyGod!* -the uniform came apart- The 'girl' in the uniform wasn't, she realized, when the bra also came apart and cotton rags fell out of the cups. And whoever it was, and whatever, it had already taken a severe beating; she could see massive and fresh bruises all over the newly-exposed chest and abdomen. "Get the first aid kit out of my office!" she yelled at her girls, trusting that at least one of them would obey her, and reached into her pocket for her cellphone. *** "ShitshitshitshitshitEpiEpiEpiEpigoddamnit-" Mike's fumbling too- slow fingers finally retrieved the first-aid kit out of the pack and yanked it open, scattering medical supplies all over the two of them. "Epi!" he barked as he grabbed the bundle and yanked it apart, ending up with an autoinjector in each hand. "Tuck!" he yelled as he put one in Tucker's blindly-groping hand. "Epi! Shoot!" With a practiced motion, Tucker flicked the safety cap off and jammed the pointy end into his thigh, then pulled it out and dropped it. he signed, and Mike put the other one in his hand. Again the cap flipped off, and Tucker jammed the epinephrine injector into his other thigh. *THREE?! But-* Mike almost wet himself at the thought, but he grabbed a piece of bra stuffing off the ground, and quickly but gently wiped Tucker's lips. *** "Yes, this is Miranda Walls at McAllen High School," she told the dispatcher. "I need an ambulance at the gymnasium immed-" The Asian kid yanked her cellphone out of her hand before she even realized he'd stood up, and then was down on his knees again before she could try and grab the phone back, snapping, "Patient is sixteen year old male, assault victim. Status asthmaticus," he emphasized, "hypoxic, cyanotic. Respirations over thirty, shallow, and straining, lots of contusions... We need TraumaFlight here stat!" *** Shannon wasn't about to move and get the first aid kit - the little fag deserved what he'd gotten - until she saw Mike wipe the lipstick off and expose lips that were a shade of blue she'd never seen. *Blue lips?* she goggled for several seconds, trying to remember- *Oh my God he can't breathe,* she figured out, and while she didn't like the little fag in the least, she found herself turning and sprinting for Coach Walls' office and the oxygen kit in the green box on the wall. *** Tucker was as blank as he could manage, but the fire in his chest couldn't be denied any more, and he coughed, which exploded into agony- *** Tucker hacked once, then choked and hacked out a spray of bloody droplets that almost blinded Mike. "Oh shit. Tuck..." His eyes flickered, and he signed, Then he folded and heaved. "NO!" Mike yanked him upright and around, and locked his hands together under Tucker's rib cage. He waited just long enough to feel an inspiration, then pulled gently up and in, forcing the air out of Tucker's lungs. *** Jody stared, unable to look away or help or do anything, as the kid limply bled from his mouth onto himself and the floor and the other guy's arms, and waved back and forth like he was a plant in the breeze. He looked dead already. And she was one of the ones that had hit him. *** Mike felt the spasm of another cough, and he pulled Tucker over onto his side, letting go with the arm that wasn't underneath him and using it to tilt his head further downward. Tucker finished coughing, and Mike levered him back to a sitting position and began assisted breathing again. "Where's the fucking oxygen?!" he demanded as Coach Walls got in Tucker's face. "Put it on highest flow, put the mask on his face when he inhales and take it off when he exhales. Come on, stop fucking around!" Tucker slumped further, and Mike yelled, "NO! Push his head up, into a normal position! He'll choke to death if you don't!" She did that, finally, and held him until Tucker started spasming again. Mike commanded, "Let go!" and dipped him to the side. *** "McAllen High School gymnasium, assault victim with status asthmaticus..." "Damn," McCracken complained as he threw down his cards and stood up. As they strode out of the ready room, he commented to Yancey, "Always happens when I have a good hand." *** Miranda kept looking at the kid's lips - she'd never actually seen blue flesh before - and while it didn't look like the two of them were doing MUCH good, the kid's lips were reddening slightly and his chalk-white skin seemed to be getting a little pinker. "What the hell is-" Miranda turned her head to see Coach Grigsby trotting towards them. "Kid's hurt, having an asthma attack; they're sending a helicopter." "Where, here?" Miranda nodded. The Asian kid ordered, "Take the cheerleaders out of here and have 'em form an arrow, to point to where they should land. GO!" Miranda nodded again, then turned her attention back to the desperately ill teen in front of her. Behind her, Coach Grigsby ordered, "Outside! Outside, move it!" *** Mike intoned, "We gotcha, Tuck. You're gonna be okay. Just let go of it, okay; you're safe, they're gone..." It wasn't helping; Tucker wasn't loosening up any. *DAMNIT I wish I still had his drugs!* He couldn't think of anything else to do. *** "Arrow formation, pointed THAT way!" Coach Grigsby yelled at them while pointing his arms to show which way he meant. Jody anchored the formation and the other cheerleaders ran to their places. *** "Hey, two o'clock low; you think that's for us?" McCracken caught a glimpse out the window before the helicopter pivoted, and saw a group of people forming an arrow that pointed to the middle of a baseball diamond. *** The noise caught Debbie's attention, and she looked up, then out the windows like everyone else was doing. She couldn't see anything, so she got up, again like everyone else, and went to see what the loud noise was. "Helicopter?" Pam said like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Huh. Guess someone got hurt in P.E.," someone guessed. Debbie bobbed around until she could see the white and blue heli drifting gently downwards. *** "Turn around! Turn AWAY from the helicopter!" Coach Grigsby bellowed, and Shannon did. Just in time, too, as the dust began streaming past her in an instant cloud. *** Mike was beginning to wonder if they'd actually died and this was Hell, or if time had simply stopped and left him in a nightmare, when one of the outside doors opened and admitted a couple of medics and a stretcher. "Oh man," he sighed. *** *Other kid knows what he's doing,* Miranda thought to herself as she helped one medic lift the half-naked teen onto the stretcher. The Asian one was digging in a bag and rattling off information to the other paramedic at the same time. *** *Number eight tube. Packet of lube.* He ripped that open and smeared the grease liberally over the bladder end of the plastic tubing. *Bite block, tape... empty syringe...* *** McCracken had just finished a set of vitals - and they were bad - when he noticed the Chinese kid digging in one of their bags. "Hey kid, get outta that-" "Intubation'll help," the kid gasped as he slid a wire down an ET airway. "Keep compressing his chest! He can't mechanically ventilate enough without assistance!" "Look-" The alarm on the oximeter interrupted him this time, reading 80 when he checked. "Joey, get an IV going; she's gonna need some bicarb-" "Tuck, intube, set!" the Chinese kid commanded, and the victim sat up, tilting her head as far back as she could and sticking her tongue far out of her mouth. Before any of them could do anything, the Chinese one stood up on the stretcher, towering over the other one, and deftly slid the plastic tube into the victim's throat. "You can't-" *-Do that,* he meant to say, but couldn't. *** Tucker had obviously blanked on command, because he wasn't spewing yet. Mike used the tube to push Tucker's tongue just a bit more out of the way before he slid the tube down to the stopper. Tucker forced a partial breath, which came out the tube, so Mike injected air into the bladder and carefully yanked the wire free. Tucker inhaled spastically, and then Mike just managed to grab Tucker and keep him from falling off the stretcher before Tucker blew chunks all over him and everything else. *** Debbie saw a couple of medics, pulling a stretcher out of the gym. *Damn that was qui-* "Ohmygod it's Tuck," she gasped. *** "GODDAMNIT!" Mike yelled, desperately trying to make them understand he knew what he was talking about, but they weren't listening to him and they weren't compressing Tucker's chest to force exhalation. "LISTEN TO ME!" He couldn't tear himself loose from the coach that was holding him back either. *** "Okay, she's secured, let's go!" McCracken demanded. The kid was slowly going downhill, despite the drugs they'd nebulized her with, and there was no reason to wait and every reason to get to an ER as fast as possible. *** Mike had collected Tucker's pack and most of his gear before he noticed the amount of blood that Tucker had lost. *Where was he-* -image of Tucker convulsing and spewing blood out of his mouth- "Oh fuck." He scrambled to his feet before he realized that there wasn't any way for him to contact the medevac in flight. "Motherf-" He dropped back and scrambled the rest of the stuff into an open compartment, zipped it up, then rushed upright and started to run for his car. It was like a nightmare; he was running as fast as he could, but the ground wasn't moving as fast as it should be. He was gasping for air when he got to his car, but he slowed short when he saw his car listing to port. *Whafuck?* His tires were flat. Before he could even get mad, a honk behind him threw him aside before the car could hit him. "What the fuck happened?" Debbie yelled at him as she threw her passenger-side door open. "Shit-" He ran to his car. *** "She's in v-fib! Charging!" *** "It's got all the medical stuff in it- GO GODDAMNIT!" Mike screamed at Debbie as he slammed the door on her car, crash bag gouging his bare legs. *** "No change! Three hundred, clear!" The body convulsed, but it was the stuttering on the scope that had his attention. "Come on, kid... Three sixty, clear!" *** Before Mike could yell at her to DO SOMETHING, Debbie had bent suddenly into a parking lot and accelerated past the stopped cars on the road. She swerved around the inside corner of the parking lot, found an exit, slowed just enough to make sure she wasn't going to get hit before accelerating again, horn blaring, across the street and into another parking lot and to another exit and back on the road again, the Subaru surging eagerly ahead. *** "Pulse-ox at eighty-four, pulse one-thirty, respirations very labored and shallow... intubated at scene, one hundred percent-" *** Debbie hit the freeway onramp doing sixty in third gear and accelerating. She didn't know why Mike was so panicked if Tucker was on the way to an emergency room - they had to know what to do, and they had all the drugs and equipment - but the urgency was contagious; and she'd never seen Mike so freaked out, as he struggled to pull a blue tunic over his gym clothes. *** "Shocked her three times, that snapped her out of it," McCracken reported to the nurse as they hustled the stretcher towards the ER. "Three Epi-Pens before we got there. Bicarb, two mills epi IV, loading dose of vasopressin, assumed weight of fifty ki- Man, her oxy's still dropping," he mentioned. *** Debbie parked the car in one rushed flurry and Mike bailed out, grabbed the crash kit and sprinted towards the fast-lane entrance, dimly registering that Debbie was only a few seconds behind him. *** "You need to get more than one blood pressure reading on patients like this; this is unacceptable-" "We didn't have time," McCracken snapped back. "You need to make time for your duties, medic! How am I supposed to arrive at the correct diagnosis without the information you are required to collect?" the officious resident complained. *** Debbie wanted to ask why Mike had passed up the entrance to the ER, but she had to catch her breath first. He stopped at the double sliding doors, dropped the plastic case he'd been carrying, and tapped at a tiny black keypad she'd never have guessed was there. "Shit!" "What are you doing?" she gasped as he did it again. As the doors slid open this time, he tossed over his shoulder, "Tuck needs me and the fucking admin won't let anyone in," as he grabbed the case again and slid through the opening doors of the ambulance entrance. *** This close, it was no trick at all to find Tucker; Mike just headed at a brisk walk towards the largest clot of people. Halfway there, he could hear Tucker laboring to breathe, and knew that they hadn't listened to him. *** As Debbie followed Mike and Mike homed in on Tuck - biggest commotion; she should have guessed - Debbie dug in her purse for a prop that might come in handy and slid it on, just in case- Tucker looked AWFUL, Debbie realized with a start when she could see him; just like a bad case on the show "ER", with blood all over him and a tube sticking limply out of his mouth, and people clustered around him doing things- "Excuse me please, this is my patient," the Hindu guy in the lab coat complained as Mike pushed past him. "Deb," Mike snapped as he dropped the plastic box on the floor, "Get up on the stretcher, start pushing like for a Heimlich-" "What do you think you are doing?!" the Hindu screeched as he grabbed Mike's arm. "Excuse me, _I_ am treating this patient!" As Mike turned and stepped away, Debbie shrieked, "STOPIT!" as loudly and as forcefully as she could, which stopped Mike before he could do something rash like he was about to. "He," Debbie pointed at Tucker, "is my HUSBAND," twisted her hand enough to highlight the wedding set she'd slipped onto her finger, "and if YOU don't stop interfering with his treatment I will SUE you into OBLIVION! You do NOT have permission to treat him, so GET OUT OF MY WAY!" The asshole in scrubs and lab coat babbled something but Mike was already telling her, "Get up on the stretcher, Deb..." He grabbed her hand and steadied her as she hooked a foot onto something and stepped up onto the medical bed Tucker was already lying on. As Mike felt around Tucker's chest, Debbie sat down across Tucker's pelvis and asked, "What do I-" "Start pushing up gently when he exhales, like a frontal Heimlich, except WITH his breathing, compress his lungs from und- Aw, fuck," he gasped. *** "Pump him," Mike instructed the medic on the bag and Debbie, "breathe him as fast as you can," before he dropped to his knees and pulled his crash kit open. *Gloves, trochar kit...* That was buried but he knew exactly where, and pulled it out without fumbling. *Swab-* "Scrub the right side of his chest, sixth rib," he ordered as he held the Betadine swab up long enough for Debbie to take it. *** *What's he doing- That's-* McCracken remembered what happened in that location just instants before the Chinese kid announced, "Tension pneumo, he's had one before..." *Oh shit, we didn't check for that,* he realized. *** Debbie had synchronized her pushing with the nurse who was squeezing the football-shaped bladder to push oxygen into Tuck's lungs. "Stop CPR!" Mike ordered. Debbie stopped and sat upright and away, confused. *But we weren't doing-* *** *Please God, don't let me fuck this up,* Mike prayed for just an instant before he carefully sliced through Tucker's skin, and remembered just in time he had to go over the rib, not under. *** Debbie's own lungs, and her entire body, stopped as she saw Mike sliding a gleaming metal spike into Tucker's ribcage. She only screamed, though, a few seconds later, when blood SPRAYED out in a ragged blast. "Inflate his lungs NOW," Mike ordered as he pulled the knife out and slid a plastic tube into the hole. "NOW!" Blood filled the tube and spewed around it. "Stop..." He grabbed what looked amazingly like a gray rubber washer threaded on the tube that stuck obscenely out of Tucker' side, and slid the washer until it was flush against skin. "Inflate," he ordered again, and something moved in the tube. "Deb, PUSH, damnit!" She pushed in and up, and suddenly she could FEEL Tucker's breathing easing under her hands, as blood burbled and spattered. *** Mike taped down the rubber gasket, then just stared at the water trap until he was sure that everything was going out and not in. He bent and grabbed the duct tape before moving to Tucker's left side. "What is going on-" Mike looked up and recognized that the older woman stomping in was a real physician. *Someone with sense,* he hoped. He didn't stop, though, as he started reciting, "Patient, history of asthma, physically assaulted and a bad attack, tension pneumo on the right side chest..." *** Debbie wasn't sure what to do, so she just kept pushing in time with the guy on the bag as Mike ripped tape and placed it over Tucker's chest, nearly under her hands. *God, he sounds like Kathy,* she marveled as she listened to Mike summarize Tucker's past and present problems for the new doctor, apparently so well that the woman didn't feel the need to ask questions. *** The doctor nodded at Mike. "Alright. How much blood did he lose from the pneumo?" Mike glanced down and estimated, "'Bout half a liter." "Type and cross match for two units," the doctor said to someone beside her with a clipboard. "X-ray frontal and lateral chest..." A nurse stabbed Tucker's hand with a tiny needle and began filling vials with his blood. "Did you nebulize any drugs?" The paramedic answered that one, which left Mike a second to think; he looked at the all-in-one monitor screen, which showed a nice regular heartbeat, though it was still too fast for comfort, and a oxy level that was twitching upwards towards the nineties. *He's gonna live,* Mike realized, and almost collapsed. *** "You're gonna have to take it," Pam told Kim. "What about Debbie?" Pam took a breath and said, "She took off." "She what?" *** "Debbie?" Mike asked as he helped her off the stretcher. Only after she was down did she realize in horror that he was literally COVERED in blood. She looked at their hands in shock, found them all clean, then noticed that Mike had removed the gloves he'd been wearing. He was waiting for her, she eventually realized. "What?" "Debbie..." He was staring into her eyes. "I need to call his parents, tell 'em what happened. Will you watch him?" "Y- No, wait, take my cellphone," she realized as she dug it out of her purse and handed it to him. *** "Tucker here," Bill answered. "Flash! Break! Flash!" Mike intoned, and Bill's hands flicked the tape recorder on and started shutting things down, not hindered by the nervous sweat that broke out instantly in his palms. *** Sarah was just starting to get angry at Eugene, because he wasn't anywhere around where he was supposed to be at this time, when her cellular phone rang. *** FLASH TOALL FLASH X DANGER X EUGENE ATTACKED AT SCHOOL X IN SURGERY X EXPECTED TO LIVE X PERPS UNKNOWN RPT UNKNOWN X FOUR GUARDING X HOUSE LOCKDOWN X TAKE SECURITY PRECAUTIONS X WEAPONS LOCKED RPT LOCKED X SIX EN ROUTE X DANGER WARNING X TSIXT END *** "And you're his wife?" "Yes," Debbie lied again. "Then you need to sign the consent for treatment forms," the nurse said, and handed her a clipboard filled with papers. "Mike? He advises me on medical decisions," she added to the nurse as Mike took the clipboard and started reading. "Do you have any insurance?" Debbie handed the intake nurse the insurance card that Mike had slipped her earlier. *** "He was WHAT?" Paul demanded. "Hey, don't blame ME!" Miranda shot back angrily. "The first thing _I_ knew about it was when him and that other kid, the Chinese one, came popping out of the girl's locker room, and the girls were right on his heels..." The girls in question were standing back, about half with defiant expressions, and the other half looking vaguely ill. *** "I think it was Tucker," Anne-Marie said as she looked around guility. "What happened?" "I don't know, I wasn't there..." "But you heard something?" Kelly guessed. *** Out of the blue, Mike asked, "Where did you get the rings?" "Huh?" She looked down at her hand. "Oh... Uh, there was some stupid promotion deal a few years ago; they had sets on sale, I just picked a couple up. Cubic zirconium and silver, not great, but..." "And you carry 'em with you?" Debbie shrugged. "They come in handy sometimes... Gets rid of some guys, sometimes." The conversation died again, as both of them stared at the wall. *** "Ricky!" someone yelled, and when he looked it wasn't Valerie, it was one of the other ones, the fat one, waving at him. "Where's Valerie?" he asked when he got close enough. The look that went over her face scared him, even though she didn't say anything right away. "She's not feeling well," the woman said. "Is she gonna be okay?" The woman nodded at him and said, "Oh yeah, she will." *** "Michael," Bill said, and the kid stood up. So did Debbie, his son's ex. Mike explained, "She's cool, she drove me here, ran interference so I could treat him." Bill looked at him. "Sir. Allied. You'll notice Debbie's hand?" Mike said, which confused Bill until he looked, and saw- "She claimed marriage, got the deadheads out of the way, marital privilege, an' she signed the consent forms." Bill thought about this as he glanced over the forms and Debbie babbled affirmation; then he nodded at Mike. *Smart man,* he judged again. "Very well," he said; though he still wasn't entirely sure, he'd reserve final judgement until later. "Mike, I'm cold, so I brought your jacket." He handed the bag to Mike, who stiffened and nodded. Debbie looked confused, which was just as well. "What's happened since you called?" "Tuck's in surgery..." *** Brian looked up at the noise of the horn, before he realized it was his mom signaling him. "Aw man..." He wasn't sure what was going on, but the way everyone had been the last week or so, he knew it wasn't gonna be good. And she wouldn't be here honking if it wasn't trouble. Especially not in Morse. "Something happened to my brother, I gotta go," he told Buck. "What about practice?" Brian shrugged as he picked up his bags. "If I didn't need to be somewhere, Mom wouldn't be here. Tell Coach, yeah?" he finished over his shoulder as he started moving. *** "Tuck's house," George said, sounding rushed. "That's where the news will come from, when there is any." "Okay, thanks..." "I gotta go, see ya," George said, and hung up. Julia replaced the handset and chewed absently on her lip. *** Mike shook himself a final time to make sure the straps were snug, which they were, then slid the jacket on. A check in the mirror revealed nothing unusual, except that his hair was completely fucked up. "Yeah," he said, and left the bathroom. Tuck's father and Debbie were still sitting where he'd left them. *** "Suspended?!" "You can't suspend-" "SILENCE!" Paul yelled, angrier than he'd been in a very long time. "There was absolutely no excuse for what you did-" Holly Porter interrupted, "But we have a game tomorr-" "Not any more," Paul countered. "Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?" Miranda commented. "You said that he looked 'sick' when you found him, and the first thing you think about doing is beating him?" Paul demanded of the girls. "And his friend had to CARRY him out of that locker room?" He wanted to go further, but he managed, somehow, to catch the words before they escaped his lips. "I don't know what happened in there, but until I find out, from OTHER sources, you are all suspended. FURTHERMORE," he overrode the second wave of protests, "I would suggest you go home and have your families arrange legal representation. I very much doubt that his family will tolerate this..." *Dear God in heaven...* He'd run into Eugene's parents just once, and that was over something relatively minor; his brain absolutely refused to contemplate what they would be like after THIS. "Get out of my office," he finally managed to deliver. "If- WHEN he can tell us what happened, you will be notified as to any changes. If you are innocent like you claim, then the suspension will be lifted." "Paul, you can't-" Miranda protested, as the girls stared silently. "I just did. They only call a helicopter if there's a need, if they think the patient will DIE during the time a normal ambulance takes. If it was that critical..." He shook his head. "If there's any change, you will be notified. And that is ALL." *** "Because I have to fucking GO, Lindy!" Susan yelled. "Right fucking NOW!" "What the fuck is your-" "It's not my problem, it's-" *April-* "It's my cousin Valerie?" Susan reminded her roommate. "She's in the hospital; someone tried to kill her." "Oh my G-" "And I have to go," Susan stated, and went back to packing the minimum she'd need for the trip. "Is there anything I can do?" Lindy offered, completely different than she'd been moments ago. "N- Yeah," Susan realized. "If anyone asks about me, especially someone you don't recognize, tell 'em I left, but do NOT tell them where, and then take down who it was and when, and what they asked, on paper. I may need it later, and I may call for the information, okay? Can you do that, while you're here?" she demanded. *** "I'm the principal of McAllen High School," Paul stated carefully, knowing that his call was being recorded, and that it would most likely be taken as evidence in any trials. "I need to report that one of my students was assaulted..." *** "Well, do we just sit here and wait?" Kelly complained. "Yeah," George answered, "because we don't know what's going on." "That's it? We just sit here and fucking wait for something to-" "We don't know who to hit," Dan moaned, and Kelly looked at him, confused. *** TOALL X EN ROUTE X USE EN ROUTE PHONE X LUCK X TONET END *** "Hello?" "Sabrina, it's Julia." "Oh h-" "Tucker's in the hospital," she continued without stopping. "What?!" "We're over at Tuck's house, waiting for, for news. We don't know much more than that, except it was from the gym, that helicopter, and that-" "That was Tuck?" "Yeah." "Oh..." They didn't call a helicopter for a hangnail. "Yeah. And, uh, George says, that someone'll come here first, to pass the news on. So, we're like, waiting here..." *Like a wake,* Sabrina thought, then was very glad that she hadn't said that out loud. "Uh, yeah, I'll be there. Uh. Is there anything I can bring?" she asked, shaking her head. *** "I thought you were like all ninjas, that you could break into anypl-" "Tuck's set the house up, him an' his dad, to keep us out. We're the ones he's tested it on. And I think that if we break into the house and don't turn off all the alarms, that the house'll blow up." "No way!" "Dude, I am not trying it to find out. His dad's a fucking nut." *** "Jesus, I can't believe that little shit... I think he broke my fucking nose!" "Shut the hell up, it was your idea to use the locker room-" "You fucking thought it was a good idea-" *** "And he was hiding in the locker room, dressed in her uniform? My God. How gross!" How delicious. "What'd she do when she found him?" *** "Do you know what happened with the helicopter today?" Ginger asked as she played with a pencil and glared at her pre-calc homework. Reina replied, "I dunno, but I saw Kyle at a gas station and his face, man; it's like someone got him good. You think that had something to do with it, like he got in a fight or something?" "I dunno... Maybe. He's a jerk, any-" "Man! You know what happened last month with him, right?" "No?" Ginger prompted. *** As everyone surged forward, Tucker's brother Brian popped out of the car and put his finger to his lips as he shook his head emphatically. Julia understood a moment later, when Tucker's mother came around the front of the car; she was enraged, and didn't look like she was holding it in very well. Julia put up a hand to help Amanda stop, just in case she didn't get the hint. Mrs. Tucker went to the back of the house; Brian watched, stationary, until she had rounded the corner, then announced, "When we find out something, we'll tell you. Mike and Dad are with Tuck, and he's currently alive and in surgery. He was attacked-" The surge of demands made him step back for a second. "I DON'T KNOW WHO!" he yelled. "QUIET! "Attacked, perps unknown, Tuck's in surgery, alive as of last information an hour ago. And that is ALL I know right now." With that, he turned and sprinted after his mother. *** Brian had some crew of his own to call, and he could wait until Mom finished talking to Dad to find out what had happened to Tuck; that was gonna take a while, he guessed. *** "Suspended? You're shitting me! Tomorrow's HOMECOMING!" "No shit, I heard Shannon talking about it." *** Bill shook his head as he looked at the report he'd just finished, after interrogating Mike. "You're assuming, Mike." "The fuck-" "Wait," he commanded, and Mike shut up. "If he was at normal capacity when you heard him, he would have done more to them than he did." He knew that much about his middle child; he didn't tolerate being trapped. "And that was an entire period after he was supposed to be elsewhere; he has classes until two." *Unless- No.* "No," Mike repeated Bill's thought, startling him. "Tuck..." He shook his head. "He would not have gone in there voluntarily, under ANY circumstances." "Are you-" "I am completely sure!" Mike protested angrily. "If he, he, if he wanted to, to do, to-" "Wait, are you suggesting he went in there," Debbie interrupted, "to, like, get dressed in their clothes or something? No," she stated flatly. "Put itching powder in them, maybe; not wear them." "How can YOU be-" "I know," she said confidently, staring right back at him. "He never showed any interest in the clothes, not that way; and I was in a position to tell. And I am VERY sure," she added. "That's just as much out of pattern for him, as him missing class or being in there in the first place, Mister Tucker," Mike summarized, and Debbie nodded solemnly. Bill closed his eyes, and let out a bitter breath he was glad to get rid of. *Good.* "So," he asked without opening his eyes, "what happened to him, to put him in that room, in those clothes, at that time?" Silence. "I hate to say it," Debbie finally spoke, "but if it was them- say, several of them getting back at him for something, then they wouldn't have waited. They'd have done whatever it was right after Mike left, not an entire period later. So it was either one or two of them, or someone else entirely." "Not the entire group-" "Why would they hide him?" Debbie asked. "I mean, they're nasty, but... I can't see them doing anything like locking him in a locker for a period just to make sure, um, that everyone could get a chance to hit him or something. They don't think that far ahead or that much outside of themselves." "Yeah," Mike agreed slowly. "If they caught him around seventh period, then they'd have hurt him then; they wouldn't have been screeching about it at eighth period, at two o'clock." "They're not there anyway until eighth period," Debbie mentioned. "This year, cheerleading and athletics have eighth period gym, so they can get an early start on practice. So they all had classes or study hall or something until the end of seventh period." "Shit," Mike complained. "So it's someone else," Bill stated. "It's gotta be someone else," Debbie agreed. Mike nodded reluctantly, but added, "They were hitting him when I found him. They shouldn't get out of blame entirely." Bill agreed, "No." *** FLASH TOALL UPDATE X TUCK STILL IN SURGERY X PERPS SUSPECTED AND DEDUCED TO BE STUDENTS NOT CHEERLEADERS X PRIMARY ATTACK DEDUCED TO HAVE OCCURRED SOON AFTER 1230 X TUCKER FOUND 1400 DURING SECONDARY ATTACK X INTERVIEW CONTINUES X LOOK FOR INJURED PERPS X TSIXT END *** "This is awful," Louisa commented, sorrow running through her voice like a river. *** TOALL X LANIER FAMILY OFFERS ANY SUPPORT X JUST ASK X LANIER END *** The harsh chatter of the dot-matrix printer on the 'Teletype' computer system caught Sarah's attention, as it was supposed to do, and she slid her blazer back on as she moved to the printer to check the latest message. *Bill and his love of telegraphs...* She'd been forced to admit, years ago, that this quirky blend of modern and ancient had its advantages, once in a while. For one thing, instead of spending all her time on the phone repeating the same thing endlessly to different people, all she had to do was type it in once, and everyone who needed to be included would get it almost instantly. *Well, it's not exactly news, but I'm glad to hear it anyway.* She wriggled her shoulders, checked herself in the mirror to make sure she looked neat and that nothing showed, and then left her bedroom. "Brian," she called as she walked down the hall to his room. "Yeah?" She said, "I'm cold. Put on a jacket." "What? Mom- Oh. Right," he nodded, and shut his door. *What do I do?* she asked herself in the empty time. *What do I do now?* *** "Goodbye, cruel world, I'm leaving you today. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye." Pink Floyd, The Wall Distribution: No part of this work may be distributed as an original work by another person or group. Permission is given to redistribute this by electronic means, as long as the entirety of the work (from the BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE header to the END PGP SIGNATURE footer) is distributed, and credit is given to the original author, me. And no fee may be charged. Archiving is permitted provided no fee is charged for access. All rights reserved. + @>--,--'----- Ellen Hayes o===[-------- __ vicki .sig + -=[1990]=- \/ virus 12.2 + http://www.barkingduck.net/ehayes PGP key: EFC9 5D55 (1996) + -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.2 iQCVAwUBQKcIGHYDebnvyV1VAQG1kwP+O3NV5lSyEuo5lgRJM23PoFRsaKenSm3F B6tjXv53GVivwnWpZWHm6otEY4TFJGtsIUSnkHD8wYcg37GwNZJBY/l75gKMfUmd asDmFRxMkcvgd7UpYLBtnhJbc95/CaP3WS208j7sz+b90pBMTkoIrvFIRrhjkW4k WdFMPSUPyKI= =4O8Y -----END PGP SIGNATURE-----