Just My Luck Ch. 2
The last sensations that Lance remembered before passing out due to the lack of oxygen were of the cords wrapped tightly about his wrists and the cord wound tightly about his throat...his lungs burning with the need to draw in a full, deep breath of air, but the inability to do so. The last fleeting sensations he had were of his senses dimming while hearing Joey yelling his name in the distance…then falling into nothingness...not knowing if he would ever wake up again.
The next things that Lance became aware of were unfamiliar voices calling his name and the feel of unfamiliar hands touching him. Then, much to his relief he found the ability to draw in a deep breath, which sent him into a coughing fit, causing a flash of pain to flair through his inflamed throat. Lance winced at the pain and drew in a second deep breath and as he did, there was a sudden intensity in the noise level around him. He became dimly aware of other voices…those of Joey, JC, Justin, Chris, and their manager, Johnny Wright. He could not seem to bring all of the voices into focus…they were all jumbled and fighting to be heard above the buzzing in his ears. He felt weak and wasn’t even able to gather up the strength needed to perform the simple task of opening his eyes.
“Sir…can you hear me?” a strange voice asked, interrupting Lance’s random thoughts as cool hands gently grasped his left wrist.
“Mmm,” Lance moaned in response to the voice. He tried to move his head but found that it seemed to be locked into place. Just minutes earlier, the paramedics had placed a cervical collar around his neck so that it could be properly supported.
He next felt air flowing into his nose and mouth and the pressure of something resting over his face. The strong smell of plastic helped him to realize that it had to be an oxygen mask that he was feeling.
Once again the unfamiliar voice interrupted Lance’s thoughts.
“Sir…I need you to respond to me, but I do not want you to speak. If you can hear me, squeeze my hand…do not speak…just squeeze my hand for me.”
Lance felt a strong hand grasping his and after a moment’s hesitation, he weakly gave the hand a squeeze.
“That’s a good response, Mr. Bass,” the voice replied. “My name is David Randolph and I’m a paramedic with the Orlando Fire Department. I need to ask you few questions so that I know how to treat you best. I don’t want you to try to use your voice. I want you to squeeze my hand once for no and twice for yes. One time, no…two times, yes,” the voice instructed.
“Do you understand my instructions?”
All eyes dropped to the two hands to see that Lance slowly responded with two small squeezes and a collective sigh was heard in the room. The paramedics had explained that Lance had not gone long without oxygen, but there was a chance that there could have been brain damage. Lance’s response may have just alleviated those fears.
“First question…do you know your full name?” the paramedic asked. He felt two squeezes and proceeded with the next question.
“Is it Lance James Bass?”
One squeeze.
“James Lance Bass?”
Two squeezes.
“Good, Mr. Bass…you’re doing fine,” the paramedic said with a smile which was returned by Lance, although weakly.
“Next question…do you know what happened to you?” At the question, Lance’s eyes slowly opened and revealed the fear that he was suddenly feeling as portions of the attack entered his thoughts. JC felt the tension in Lance’s other hand and he immediately ran a hand over Lance’s head in an effort to further comfort his friend.
One squeeze…then two squeezes.
“Was your answer no and yes?”
Two squeezes.
“There are some things that you don’t exactly remember?” he asked knowing that a memory lapse was not uncommon in cases like these and unfortunately, the majority of lost memories would probably be returning in the form of flashbacks and nightmares.
Two squeezes.
“Okay…we’ll figure those out once we’ve had a chance to check you over at the hospital,” the paramedic answered.
“I want you to relax now…the hospital has instructed us to give you some medications that are going to help in keeping the swelling in your neck down. They’re going to make you very drowsy and I don’t want you to fight them. I want you to give in to the meds and let them do their job. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Two squeezes.
“Wait,” a new voice said and a policeman stepped into Lance’s line of vision. “Before you do that, I have just a few questions to ask him, if you feel like he’s able to and if he feels he’s up to it...please. It will help to speed up the investigation.”
The paramedics looked at each other.
“What do you think, Jeff?” the paramedic at Lance’s side asked of the one across the room with Joey.
“His vitals look good, David…two minutes wouldn’t hurt, but he does need those meds as soon as the questions are over.”
“Can you answer a few questions for the police, Mr. Bass,” the paramedic asked Lance and he received two squeezes in response.
“Okay, officer. He says yes, but make it quick. He needs to get to the hospital soon.” The paramedic stood up and stepped back far enough so that the officer could get closer to Lance, but he did not move so far away that he couldn’t reach Lance in the event that he began to have any problems.
“Thanks and I will,” the tall man said before kneeling down beside Lance’s stretcher.
“Hello, Mr. Bass. My name is Officer Michael Stansel and I’m with the Orlando Police Department. I want to ask you a few yes, no questions. Having you answer the questions now, Mr. Bass will help us in finding the person or people who did this to you.”
Lance wearily mouthed the word, ‘okay’, then felt the officer gently grip his hand.
“Was there one person involved in the attack?” the officer asked.
Two squeezes.
“Do you know who this person was?”
Two squeezes.
In shocked amazement, glances flew about the room at the thought that someone Lance knew had attacked him so viciously.
“This may sound like an unusual question, Mr. Bass, but is that person in this room?”
One squeeze.
“Does he work for you and your group?”
Two squeezes.
Several more gasps were the only sounds heard in the room as the police officer reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen and thin tablet before once again grasping Lance’s hand.
“Can you write the person’s name down for me?”
Two squeezes.
All eyes were on Lance as he weakly gripped the pen with an unsteady hand and scribbled a name onto the piece of paper being held by the officer. Marshall Goines
The officer quickly glanced at the shaky writing once Lance had finished then once again grasped Lance’s hand.
“A man by the name of Marshall Goines did this to you?”
Two squeezes.
“Are you sure, without a doubt of this man’s identity and that he was the person who attacked you?” the officer asked leaning in closely to Lance so that he could look directly into the young man’s eyes.
Without blinking, Lance gave his answer as firmly as he could.
Two squeezes.
“Thank you, Mr. Bass for answering my questions. If there are any more questions that need answers we’ll get in touch with you.” With that said, the officer stood up and immediately the paramedics took his place and began running through Lance’s vitals while the officer and Johnny Wright walked over to a far corner of the trailer to speak. The rest of the group was dumbfounded at the revelation. A member of their road crew had attacked their brother…a member of the family had attacked one of its own.
The paramedic’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence as he spoke quietly to Lance, informing him of what was about to take place.
“Like I said earlier, Mr. Bass, the hospital has radioed instructions that we administer some medications into your IV that will help in keeping the swelling in your neck down. These medications are going to make you very drowsy and I want you to give in to them…don’t try to fight them. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”
Lance wearily squeezed the paramedic’s hand twice.
“Your friends are all here, Mr. Bass…one will ride in with you…I think Joey.” He didn’t bother to tell him that Joey was riding along with them as a patient. He knew that the news would probably be better left unsaid until a later time. Besides that, the medications that was going to be giving the young man would incapacitate him and he wouldn’t know who would be riding with him much less what condition they were in.
Lance responded with two squeezes and a small smile. His smile slowly faded as the new drugs entered his system and as his senses dimmed he looked up into JC’s sad eyes.
JC recognized that Lance was quickly falling under the influence of the medications and he leaned in closer to him and ran his hand over his head while still gripping his left hand in his own.
“Hey…don’t worry, Lansten. Everyone is here…you’ll be seeing Dr. Shannon soon. Everything will be okay, Poofu,” JC whispered knowing that if he had tried to speak in his regular tone of voice, Lance would not have been able to understand him. He was just barely hanging on to his emotions.
Lance squeezed JC’s hand two times weakly as his eyes began to droop.
“Close your eyes, Lance…it’s okay…I’m here,” JC quietly urged. Seconds later, Lance’s eyes drooped closed and did not reopen.
The paramedic quickly rechecked Lance’s vitals before his limp body was lifted up and placed onto a gurney for transport.
“Everything sounds good, guys…he’s going to be okay,” he said as he sat back on his heels.
All eyes had been on Lance and as the paramedic’s words left his mouth, attention was turned to the other figure lying on the floor of the trailer.
To Joey, the words spoken by the paramedic finally, in a sense, gave him permission to give in to the terrible pain that he had not been feeling up to that point.
As pain began to enter his senses, hot tears began to course down his cheeks, surprising the medic working on him. Not really understanding that the sudden tears were those of pain, the man rested a reassuring hand on Joey’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He then looked from Joey to Chris, who had stationed himself at Joey’s side as soon as he had collapsed to the floor shortly before the paramedics had arrived.
Chris caught the medic’s questioning gaze and leaned over Joey.
“Lance is going to be okay now…really, man,” he said in comforting tones. Joey’s features tensed even further and his left hand reached for his shirt hem and began to tightly clutch it.
“I know…it’s my hand, Chris…my hand…it’s killing me,” Joey hissed through tight lips.
The paramedic raised his eyebrows at the new information.
“You said…he was okay…and…my hand…woke up,” Joey said between short bursts of pain.
Chris ran his hand over Joey’s head and listened as the medic radioed Joey’s changed condition and minutes later, Joey was riding a small wave of relief from the sudden pain when a minimal amount of morphine was introduced to his IV.
Justin silently watched all of the happenings raging about him with tear filled eyes. There hadn’t been enough room at Lance’s or Joey’s sides so he opted to stand back and let Chris and JC comfort them. Never in his wildest dreams could he have thought of a worse scenario for any of his brothers. Lance lying on a gurney after a brutal attack…the marks around his wrists…his ankles…his neck. The fear of brain damage due to the lack of oxygen…the fear that the attacker had not been caught yet and could strike again. They had a small advantage in that they knew who it was.
Justin glanced to the other end of the trailer and saw that Johnny was going nuts making frantic phone calls from a far corner of the backroom. He had called Jim and Diane Bass and they were planning to catch the next available flight to Orlando. Joseph and Phyllis Fatone were out of town, but the manager had been able to contact Joey’s sister, Janine and she would contact the rest of her family before meeting everyone at the hospital later in the evening since she would be driving in from the Miami area.
Justin watched as Johnny punched in several more numbers and quickly spoke again. Unknown to Justin and the rest of the group, Johnny had already contacted Lynn Harliss, Justin’s mother and Beverly Eustice, Chris’s mother. Now he only needed to contact Roy and Karen Chasez. As far as he was concerned, each of the boys was going to need all the support that they could possibly get from their family and friends, whether or not they had been attacked or injured.
He had seen through the years, if one of the boys was ill or injured, the rest of the group took it to heart and hurt right along with them. This time would be no exception.
As Johnny finished his phone conversation with the Chasez’s, Lance was being wheeled out of the trailer and taken to an ambulance while Joey was being lifted onto a stretcher and being readied for transport.
“Their personal physician is Kenneth Shannon,” Johnny quickly said. “He has all of their records.”
“Okay…we don’t have room for any of you to ride with us, but a police escort will be with you on the way to the hospital,” one of the paramedics said as he trailed Joey’s stretcher out of the trailer.
“We’ll see you there then,” Johnny said as he ushered Chris, Justin and JC toward a waiting vehicle where Lonnie and Mike, two of Nsync’s bodyguards, were waiting to take the group to the hospital.
Minutes later, the ambulance carrying Joey and Lance sped out of the WEG Studio parking lot with several vehicles racing behind.