COUNTERPOINT
An original romantic serialFrom Alina Adams the author of "When a Man Loves a Woman" (DELL 4/00), "Annie's Wild Ride" (AVON 8/98), "Inside Figure Skating" (METROBOOKS 11/00 & 9/99), "Thieves at Heart" (AVON 12/95) and "The Fictitious Marquis" (AVON 6/95)
Available weekly by e-mail from http://www.AlinaAdams.com
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CHAPTER 50
No one had ever asked Nicole to do something useful before. To be honest, the bulk of the requests she'd received in her life were more of the propositional variety. No one had ever asked her to do anything important. No one had ever asked her to do anything that actually mattered.
And yet, here Gabriel was, pleading for her help. Nicole couldn't understand it. Didn't he know she was useless?
"Please... Nicole.... Please," his voice died out before he choked out the final letter, as if even it were a weight Gabriel didn't have the strength to carry anymore.
Nicole felt as if her legs were going to give out on her at any moment. Her heartbeat hammered against her brain and all she wanted to do was what Nicole always did when things got too difficult or too complicated. She wanted to look away and run.
"I can't..." she began again. But then, the sight of Gabriel lying there on the cold, white floor, looking up at her with utter, albeit desperate, trust, crumpled the words in her windpipe before she had the chance to force them out with her tongue. Instead, Nicole heard herself ask, "What should I do?"
He swallowed hard, willing himself to remain conscious at least long enough to issue his instructions. The blood dripping down Gabriel's back formed an outline that, no matter how hard Nicole tried not to, reminded her of a chalk, police tracing. A spasm of pain gripped Gabriel's body. Nicole could see it in the way he tightened up, biting down so hard on his lip to keep from screaming, he left bloody tooth-marks in his flesh. His breath caught and Gabriel held it for so long, Nicole feared he'd never inhale again.
When he did, she found the strength to repeat, "Tell me what you need me to do."
"The closet..."
Nicole head swiveled back and forth, trying to memorize the room in one sweep, even as she asked, "Which one?"
"In the back. The supply closet."
She saw no supply closet. No matter how hard Nicole looked, all she saw was the admissions desk by the door, an examining table, it's privacy curtain drawn and opened, and a large, metal cabinet.
"That one?" Nicole asked desperately, taking a step in its direction, grabbing the handles and pulling it open.
"No..." Gabriel's hands flexed as if each finger were being pulled by some unseen, sadistic ghost, and, again, his breath caught for much longer than Nicole imagined was good for him. Only after the attack had passed, and his hands once again lay limp and shaking in front of him, did he manage to weakly tilt his head in the opposite direction and explain, "Behind the curtain. Move the curtain. You'll see."
Nicole slammed shut the metallic doors she'd just opened, and ran towards the curtain. She flung it aside, and there, as promised, thank God, was the right closet door. Nicole grabbed the knob and turned. It was locked.
"Damn it," she screamed, then mentally slapped herself upside the head. She had to remain calm. She had to listen to what Gabriel said. She had to help him. And yet, the door was locked.
Feeling equally helpless and mortified, Nicole slunk back to where Gabriel was lying, certain that when she got there, Gabriel would be dead and it would of course, be all Nicole's fault. She practically burst into tears when she heard his hoarse, uneven breathing. He was in agony but, he was still alive.
"I -- the door is locked, Gabriel. I'm sorry. I -- "
"Key..." He sounded like he was struggling to make himself heard from an impenetrable distance. "Desk. My desk."
She turned, meaning to fly to the desk, but, the right heel of Nicole's shoe slipped in the blood on the floor -- Gabriel's blood! -- and got caught between a pair of tiles. She stumbled, her knee hitting the ground with a painful splat, her ankle twisting, the heel popping off. Nicole didn't even notice. She scrambled up, leaving first the broken shoe, then, when she realized she was hobbling, kicking off the second one in her mad dash to the desk.
She opened the top drawer. She found stacks of medical pads, a handful of pens, a plastic package of tissues... but no key.
The second drawer.
No key.
The third.
There was a key ring.
Nicole grabbed it, running to Gabriel, kneeling down, thrusting them in his face and demanding, "Is it one of these?"
He nodded faintly and, with great effort moved his arm. As he did so, he seemed to gag, the pain ripping him from the inside out.
"Which one?" Nicole heard herself screaming in near hysteria, and she hated herself for it more than she'd ever hated herself for any deed in her life. Why? Why was she acting like this? Why couldn't she stay calm? Why couldn't she be of help? What was wrong with her? Why was she so stupid?
"That one," Gabriel mouthed, no longer able to speak, and pointed to a silver key that, to Nicole, looked no different from any other key.
For a moment, she imagined herself getting to the supply closet and then not being able to pick the right key out of the bunch. That was exactly the sort of thing she would do.
Nicole clutched the key he'd indicated for dear life. "This one? It's this one?"
Gabriel nodded and closed his eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Nicole whimpered, and hurried towards the closet, squeezing the correct key so tightly, it left an imprint on her skin.
She shoved the key in the lock with all of her might, and tugged frantically at the knob. It was only when the door swung open and Nicole was faced with a room full of unfamiliar medical equipment that she realized she had no idea what Gabriel had wanted her to get.
Running back to him, she knelt until her face was parallel with his. The stench of blood filled her nostril and sank its tentacles down into her stomach, churning it for all it was worth.
Nicole had to swallow hard before she began, "What -- "
"Normal..." Gabriel didn't open his eyes. "Saline..."
"W-what?" She had no idea what he was talking about.
"Normal saline..." Sweat poured down Gabriel's forehead, sticking in his eyes, thickening his lashes. "Get it... plastic bag.... liquid.... I need... normal saline."
Nicole nodded furiously, knowing that he couldn't see her with his eyes closed, but, needing to focus on something, anything, to keep the horror from overwhelming her.
"Normal saline," she repeated. "Normal saline. I'll get it. Normal saline."
She chanted the words like a mantra all the way to the supply closet. Once there, Nicole rummaged frantically through the boxes of bandages, the miles of plastic tubing, the cotton swabs, the syringes, until she found a shelf filled with plastic bags of liquid.
Nicole scanned the labels, all the while chanting, "Normal saline, normal saline, normal saline..."
She found a bag labeled Dextrose 5%. She found a bag labeled 0.54% sodiumchloride, and one labeled 0.9% sodiumchloride. But, nothing -- nothing! -- that said normal saline.
"I can't find it," Nicole screamed to Gabriel, and ran back to him, tearfully confessing, "All I saw was dextrose and sodium -- sodium -- "
"Sodiumchloride," he moaned. "The point nine percent. That's normal saline."
"It is?" Nicole had never been so happy to hear anything. "I'll get it. I'll get it right now."
She flew to the closet and back again, thrusting the plastic bag at Gabriel like a trophy. "Now what?"
Gabriel took a deep breath, shuddering this time not from the pain he was feeling, but in anticipation of what was to come.
Softly, he said, "You... I need... You need to make me an IV...."