I propped myself up against the front tire of my Jeep and just lay there, keeping the gun pointed at him. It was really all I could do, since it was impossible to use my left arm anymore without the pain in my chest exploding. The warm blood I had felt run down my face, now ran into my right eye. There must have been a cut in my eyebrow.
It was then I saw running feet through the gap underneath the cars next to me, accompanied by scared, female sounding screams. I remember asking myself if Logan had come back, but the sounds came from Claire and Ava! They, with Aaron running BEHIND them for some reason, had come back to see what was going on. I quickly shouted at them to stay back, but Claire had to be held by Aaron to not run over to us while she kept screaming unintelligible things under the still present tinnitus I heard. I seriously didn’t understand her struggling to run towards us. What was she planning on doing? Kick the guy when he was already face down on the ground? Berate the other two who were obviously not conscious? I honestly couldn’t tell.
Maybe two minutes passed like this, with Claire fighting against Aaron, and me worrying about all the blood flowing from my forehead. I knew head wounds bleed a lot stronger than wounds at other places, but the amount of blood that now covered my face was concerning. Though, with my left arm out of commission, and my right arm pointing the gun at the guy, I couldn’t apply any pressure to the wound either.
Finally, I saw the flashing of emergency lights come closer. I mentally thanked whoever called them, probably the moment the shot went off, because I could barely keep the gun straight anymore. Two patrol cars drove onto the parking lot and four officers jumped out, guns drawn, screaming at me to drop the gun myself. I didn’t need to be told twice and felt relieved when I could finally let my arm drop.
Over the time I was on the ground, my adrenalin level had steadily gone back down and the pain from the various hits I took started to make its way to the forefront of my consciousness. My chest, where the baton had hit me, hurt like hell when I tried to take a breath. Strangely, though, I never felt anything special when he stabbed me. Just like a weak punch. But, by now, the area was emanating a hot searing pain throughout my stomach, making breathing even harder. It also didn’t help that more and more of the formerly white shirt I was wearing turned dark red. I could feel my right eye starting to swell up. The dull ache in my left cheek, where the very last punch had hit me, was my least pressing concern. Drawing air into my lungs became harder by the second, and since the police had finally arrived, the tension left my body. I became dizzy.
I heard Claire and Aaron rapidly explain to the officers that it was these three guys who started threatening them. I wanted to add that the gun I just dropped, as well as the knife in my stomach and the baton on the ground, were also theirs. I just couldn’t muster enough air to speak, simply because it hurt to take deep enough breaths, which scared the living crap out of me.
After one officer handcuffed the last conscious guy, and his partner had kicked the gun away from me, they quickly determined I was no threat to them. The last thing I remember before the world turned sideways and my lights went out was the officer speaking a bunch of numbers into his radio, and me asking myself why the hell he couldn’t call an ambulance before cuffing the others.
Chapter 6
I woke up disoriented. I had no idea where I was at first, and felt strangely limp. Like I was ripped out of a deep sleep. Slowly, I realized I was in a strange room, wearing some kind of gown. It was a hospital gown. Then I realized that I was in a hospital bed. So, I was probably in a hospital. I closed my eyes to calm myself down, until the memories came back to me. Then I started taking stock on my body.
My right eye was swollen shut, but the overall pain was way better than I remembered. There was an infusion going into my right hand that was probably the cause.
When I looked around the room, I noticed Claire sitting in a chair next to a window, looking into the darkness outside. I was in the parking lot in the morning. If it was dark now, I must have been out for quite some time. I tried to remain quiet, until a female doctor entered the room, causing Claire to look up and notice me being awake. She immediately was up and next to me, grabbing my hand.
“You’re awake! Finally! You scared the hell out of us!” she said, sounding relieved beyond measure. Her eyes looked slightly swollen, remnants of her badly washed off makeup still present, and she was wearing the same clothes I had seen her wear in the parking lot.
I looked around and noticed nobody else waiting. Then I looked at her hands squeezing mine, and finally back into her eyes, with a mixture of irritation and anger. She quickly let go of me and looked hesitant for a moment before the doctor shooed her back into the chair so she could check on me. She first searched the gauze pads on my stomach and chest for discoloration, then spoke while checking my head.
“Good evening, Mr. Brown, it is nice to see you’re up. You took quite the beating. How much do you remember?” She smiled at me. I greatly enjoyed the feeling of that featherlight touch of her fingertips on my forehead.
“Baton to the face, baton to the chest, my brother helping me out by showing off his best Usain Bolt impersonation, knife to the stomach, then ... I’m here, missing my pants.” I answered matter of fact, while counting the events off with my fingers. “So, what’s the damage?”
She was still smiling, though she gave Claire a short look as I mentioned my brother before she answered me.
“The laceration above your eye looks good for now. We glued it up, but It will probably take a few days for the whole swelling to go down. You have a broken rib that got slightly dislocated, but we fixed that in surgery. It will cause you some discomfort for a while, so no heavy lifting.”
I snorted, causing her to smirk and me to realize she had downplayed the part about the discomfort. She continued.
“We wrapped it in a Brace to support it, and it should stop hurting in about a week. It can hurt for three to four weeks when moving, though.”
She waited for me to signal my understanding with a nod before she continued.
“You were lucky with the puncture wound. While the blade missed your major organs and blood vessels, it did sever a few muscles. The surgeon stitched everything back together, but you really need to try and give them a rest. Normally we would immobilize the affected area, but, given it being your midsection, and relatively small, you’ll have to exercise self-restraint. We’re keeping you overnight to make sure there won’t be any lingering effects from the anesthesia, which I’m confident won’t happen, but after that ... You should let your family look after you for a while and help you out. Would that be possible?” she finally asked, looking at Claire.
“Of course!” Claire answered, enthusiastically nodding, while I gave her a firm “No!” at the same time, confusing the doctor for a moment.
“I’ll be just fine, thank you!” I said with conviction.
“Tim! Please!” Claire protested.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brown. But while this isn’t life threatening at the moment, if I can’t release you into someone’s care ... I’ll have to ask you to stay for a few more days instead.” the doc told me, causing my mood to drop significantly.
“Fine!” I conceded, but was sure I’d be out of there as soon as possible again.
“Your GP can remove the stitches from your chest and the five staples from your stomach in a week. Ten days tops.” she informed me.
“Five staples? The hell did he stab me with? A meat cleaver!?” I asked in shock.
“Sorry, but that was us. We had to widen the incision to check for damages. But it will still leave a nice scar you can show off to your friends.” she lightly chuckled. “Any questions?”