Swept Away (19 page)

Tucker was being moved. A dog barked in the distance. No, the dog was nearby. His hearing was foggy; his vision, blurred. 

“Stay calm man, we’re getting you help.”

Tucker tried to sit up. “Josie? Where’s Josie?”

“Josie?” his caregiver sounded clueless. A woman’s voice said, “The girl, John. He wants to know about the girl.”

John paused a moment. “She’s fine. She’s fine. We got to get you patched up, so I need you to be still, okay? We got a chopper coming. Going to strap you down and have you ready. You just need to stay with us.”

“Where’s Josie? Better not be lying to me.”

“No buddy, I swear. She’s fine.”

A gentle hand touched his brow, holding him firmly against the back board while John brought a strap over his forehead and secured it. As John tightened him down, the woman said softly, gently, “Billy Fram is working on her. She has a pretty good bruise on her forehead, but she’s going to be fine. She’s mostly worried about you. You let us get you on that chopper so we can tell her you’re gonna be all right, okay?”

He nodded and closed his eyes. Sound faded and the sky went inky black.

A noise like a squealing freight train woke him. John squeezed his arm. “Almost there, buddy. Stay with me.”

Tucker nodded.

“This your first chopper ride?”

Tucker tried to say no. He’d been on chopper rides before. Mostly transport choppers.  He’d been on plenty of those. He listened closely for the sound of gunfire. Wondered where they were being dropped now. Suddenly, he wasn’t lying on his back strapped to a board anymore. He was sitting by Ash. “Ash,” he said. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead.”

“I’m here. In the flesh. Damn, you’re looking ugly. They plan on dropping you in the sand box to scare the shit out of Ali Baba? Sure will save on bullets. He’ll take one look at you and go lalalalala on home.”

Tucker laughed, looking over his shoulder for their CO. He never found Ash’s humor funny. Always worried the embed journalist would hear. That guy had a major stick up his ass. Ash pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it with a match he struck off his helmet. “For good luck,” he said with a wink.

Tucker smiled and relaxed against his seat, enjoying the thrum of the motor and the smell of Ash’s cigarette.

Ash sent a puff of smoke rings toward the chopper roof. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. Sometimes to keep life moving forward, you’ve got to learn to roll with it. Except when you reach a crossroad, then you make the right choice. Don’t be a damn dumbass, you hear?”

Tucker shook his head. This was deathbed kind of talk and he didn’t want to hear that shit. Ash was here. Tucker wanted him to stay here.

“Promise me, man. You won’t be a dumb ass.”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time.”

Tucker reached out his hand. He wanted to make sure this moment was real, but before his hand made contact, Ash yelled, “Time to go. Catch ya later, pretty boy.”

Ash stood and turned toward the open door. Tucker grabbed at his shoulder in a panic. “You don’t have a chute.” But it was too late. Ash was gone, and Tucker was sucked from the chopper with him. He drifted, as if rocking on air. The sky was a relaxing cradle of powder blue, but the green of the earth was fast approaching. Tucker screamed—was about to hit the ground, then his eyes popped open. Two men in navy blue uniforms carried him from the chopper toward bright red double doors.  His body swayed back and forth until they set him on a gurney and rolled him across concrete. The black of night gave way to the harsh fluorescents above him.

Tucker assumed he was at the hospital. He called for Josie one more time, and thought he saw her walking away from him. The gurney rolled through more double doors, then stopped. They lifted him on the count of three and set him on a surgical table. Medical staff swarmed, working in unison, unlatching the straps from the board, sticking him with IVs, and attaching monitors to his chest. He was about to tell them they worked as quickly as a pit crew, but someone put a mask over his face and told him to breathe deep.

The pain in his body drifted away. He was free of the chill of the hospital and was suddenly doused in sunlight. And there was Ash again, standing in a field so green, it seemed fake. The lush grass felt like silk against Tucker’s hand as he waded through it.

“You’re back,” Ash said. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” As Ash moved through the grass, tiny butterflies took flight and fluttered around him. Ash called, “Maddy, come meet your brother.” Turning to Tucker, Ash whispered, “Seriously dude, she got all the looks in the family.”

Maddy ran through the grass toward him. She did look like Josie, but Tucker would never be confused by the two of them. Maddy was full of energy, arms flailing, face as animated as a cartoon as she approached. She yelled his name as if chasing a rock star. Her body slammed into his, and she squeezed him in one of the biggest bear hugs he’d ever gotten. Tucker hugged her back. She didn’t feel like flesh and bone. She was like hugging pure energy. Warm and invigorating. In her grip, his body felt buoyant, and the pain in his gut eased.

“I knew you’d do it.” Stepping back, she laid a hand on each side of his face. “I’m sorry you had to feel so alone, but I needed you to find her. She needed you, and you needed her. I couldn’t let my brother and sister—oops that’s not funny is it?” Maddy laughed as she took a step back.

“You know about that?”

“I get feelings. You did well.” Pointing her thumb toward Ash’s back, she said, “Some people thought you’d do the boot scootin’ boogie out of there when you thought Arie was me, but I knew you wouldn’t ever leave your baby.”

“Boy or girl?”

“What do I look like, a fortune teller?” Maddy gave him a look like he was a fool, then said, “Hey, I’d love for you to stay so I could torture you, but you’ve got to go. One day, brother, you’ll find out what it’s like to be harassed by a little sister for an eternity.”

Tucker smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

She punched his shoulder. “You say that now, tough guy. Just you wait.”

It finally occurred to Tucker—if Maddy was here with Ash…he had to know. “What happened to you, Maddy?”

She scrunched up her face and shook her head. “You just tell Ariel I’m all right. Tell her I didn’t feel any pain. You have to remember to tell her I’m all right. Promise me you will remember…Maddy is all right.”

“How could I ever forget this?” he asked looking around at the beauty of the place.

She smiled at him and said, “Because it’s only rational to forget. Now, you don’t belong here. You have to go back.”

She turned him by the shoulders. He wanted to stay a bit longer, but she shoved him hard. As she pushed him through the field, his feet didn’t touch the ground. His feet couldn’t get a grip, so he couldn’t slow down or stop. A cliff approached.

“The cliff,” he yelled over his shoulder as he grabbed at thin air.

“Trust me,” she said giving him one final push. Then he was falling, falling—through nothingness. He was about to hit when a voice said, “Mr. Boone. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Tucker was in a hospital bed, hooked to monitors and IVs. Sitting up, he looked around the room. “Where's Josie? Is she here?”

The nurse ignored his question. She grabbed his wrist and checked his pulse. “You need to stay calm.”

“I need to check on Josie,” he said, trying to sit up.

“Calm down, son,” Murray said, getting up from the chair in the corner and coming to his bedside. “Hetty's with her. Doc’s checking her over as a precaution. You need to be still. You got stabbed, for crying out loud.”

“I'm fine. Take me to Josie.” Tucker pulled at his IV. The nurse tried to stop him, but he jerked his arm away. She hit the emergency call button as she yelled at him to stay in the bed. He yanked the tubes out of his arm.  The pump sirens beeped. Tucker looked around as edgy as an escaped felon hell-bent on leaving. “Where's my damn pants?”

“They cut them off.” Murray told him. “If you plan to go running around, you'll be doing it in a dress with your ass hanging out.”

“He’s not going anywhere. Mr. Boone, get back in this bed this instant.” The nurse stomped her foot on the tile floor. Tucker ignored her as he stripped a sheet off his bed and wrapped it around his waist. “Where is she? Or do I have to check the whole hospital?”

“Come on,” Murray said.

“Mr. Banks, you’re not helping here.”

Another nurse met them at the door. “Sir, you can't be out of bed.”

“For someone who can't, I sure am.”

The skinny little blonde pursed her lips together. “Are we going to play semantics? You've lost a lot of blood, and unless you want to open some stitches and end up having to get a transfusion, I suggest you get back in that bed.”

“I'll be fine; don't worry. I'm not the suing type.” He turned to Murray. “Which way?”

“Follow me,” Murray said.

“Don't make me call security,” the skinny nurse said.

Murray shook his head as he led him down the hall to an elevator. Once inside, Murray hit level B. “This is insanity. You know that, right?”

“Would you do it if it were Hetty?”

“Hetty of now, or the sweet gal I married?” Murray laughed.

“Better watch my back, Murray. If I get caught, I may sing like a canary, and what you said might just slip out.”

“Oh, now, you know I'm teasin'. I love the missus. And if it makes you feel better, I do understand, but I have to put up a little fight because those women are going to have my ass when I show up with you. I’ve already been hearing
I told you so
from Hetty about Amanda Stone. I swear, damn woman will probably put how she was right on my tombstone.”

The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open. A security guard was waiting on him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to take you back to your room. Hospital rules.”

“Well now,” Murray said, wrapping an arm around Tucker’s arm. “I can assure you this boy isn’t going back to his room without a fuss. He’s stubborn and pig-headed, and his pregnant girlfriend is in an ultrasound to check on their baby. Now, I’m doubting you’re going to wrestle this here stitched-up boy any more than I plan to wrestle a bear. So, why don't you just make us all happy and fetch a wheelchair, then we can roll him to his lady and then roll him back without all the fuss.”

The security guard, a big husky man with hairy knuckles, nodded. “This your first?” he asked Tucker.

Tucker nodded.

“Hold on a sec.” The guard left and returned with a chair. Tucker frowned, but sat.

“Josie's going to think I'm a pussy, riding around in a wheelchair.”

“Well,” Murray said with stroke to his chin. “I suppose you can impress her later with all your stitches. Over a hundred of them inside and out. Damned wonder that SOB didn't hit any organs. Three cuts—none hit anything but muscle.”

“That's because I'm all muscle.”

“Good to see that he didn't cut out your ego none.” Murray laughed.

The guard snickered along with Murray as he rolled Tucker through the hall.

The guard spun the chair around as he bumped the door open with his rear. He wheeled Tucker in backward, and then turned him.  The guard patted Tucker on the shoulder before stepping back to lean against the wall to wait.  All Tucker could see was Hetty, but she stepped aside and there was Josie. The light from the ultrasound screen was all that lit the room. 

“Tucker,” Josie said, lying on her back looking small and pale. “You shouldn’t be here. They said you were in surgery.”

Grabbing her hand, he brought it to his lips. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Of course, you think I snuck down here?”

Josie smiled at him.

“How’s the baby?” he asked.

“Um, I hope okay,” she said, her voice shaky.

“It’ll just be a minute, sweetie,” the tech said. She rubbed the wand over Josie’s belly. Trying first the left side, then the right. She added more gel and then tried again.

“Tucker,” Josie said, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Probably too early, love,” the tech said as she made another swipe. “How far along are you?”

“About a month,” Tucker said.

“Give it another week or two and we should be able to get a heartbeat. Everything else looks good.”

Josie bit her lip, but a whimper escaped and tears started rolling. Tucker held her. “It’ll be all right.”

She nodded against his chest, clutching the fabric of his hospital gown. Two sharp raps on the door, then it swung open, washing the darkened room in light. The nurse from his room found them. She turned on the guard. “Officer Cunningham, you were supposed to bring the patient back to his room, not hang out with him.”

“Tucker?” Josie said. “You are not all right.”

“Yes, I am,” he whispered. “She’s just a bitch.”

She held his face in her hands. “You have to get back. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.”

“Mr. Boone, you don’t want to worry your pretty little wife when you start bleeding again and pass out,” the nurse said from the doorway.