But the kid either wouldn't or couldn't shut up. "He … was dark … almost … purple … bright purple … " A strangled moan cut off further words for the time being. Shock was setting in, and Zac knew that the kid didn't have much time. He scooped the frail body up and made rapid progress back towards the Hospital. The boy regained some degree of consciousness somewhere along the way, and kept muttering the same thing over, and over. "Eyes … purple … bright … "
Unbeknownst to both child and savior, another set of eyes watched them. Secluded in an alleyway, a man with purple eyes watched them approach the door. At that moment, he knew. He knew what he had done and that there was no atonement.
Zac gritted his teeth again as he barreled into the lobby of the Hospital, bellowing, "Incoming!"
Every available staff member within earshot almost jumped out of their skins and rushed towards the lobby, flooding it with personnel. Terra dashed into the lobby, pausing near the ER doors when she saw Zac. "What the … ?"
Joseff's sentiment echoed Terra's. "Holy Makabb." It was the dawning horror that it was a child that Zac held, though it was barely recognizable as such.
The two doctors snapped out of their daze and skirted into the emergency room, already barking orders at nurses and orderlies. "Christ, get a fargin' gurney over here!" yelled Zac to whomever was closest. The child was frightfully limp in his arms and his moaning had not abated.
"Over here!" directed Dr. Jansenn and pointed Zac towards a triage table.
"He … killed … us", moaned the child.
The motions were smooth, belying the franticness that lay beneath them, as Zac set the boy on the table. Nurses charged in to the small form, attaching him to all manner of tubing and wires. IV tubes were inserted, a tracheal tube for breathing was forced down the tiny throat and wheels were turned on to release life giving oxygen into the lad. Bags were attached to holders, full of hydrating liquids and stabilizing medications. Joseff's skilled finger detected a thready and very weak pulse in the boy's neck. Beads of sweat had already built up along his brow as he jostled his way in amongst the crowd. Zac stepped out of the way, but not out of sight, to let the medical team do what they did best. A bag of whole blood had already been replaced and a secondary bag of plasma was tagged onto another line, done in a timely fashion by Terra..
Watch though he did, Zac could only stay away for so long, and he had to know. He stepped in next to Dr. Jansenn, despite the doctor's protests and leaned down next to the kid's mouth. "Talk to me kid. Who did this?"
"Eyes … bright … dark …"
Zac wiped some blood from the boy's mouth, smearing it down his chin. "I need more."
"Got … most … us …" The progress was slow and painful to watch.
He nodded. "I saw, I saw. Come on kid."
"Purple. Bright." He was back to repeating that which Zac already knew so well. Purple, bright, eyes, dark. He had yet to make the connection. Over and over the child muttered it like some nonsensical lyric. "Dark … purple … eyes … bright … shadow … purple … bright … eyes. Purple … purple … purple … "
There was one in the tiny room that did make the connection. All color leached from her face as she backed out of the room in disbelief. "No … no … can't be …" Terra had to lean against the desk before she collapsed. Her head was pounding with the realization of just who had visited this grief upon the child. Shocked denial radiated through her. She couldn't be in the same room with the proof of his actions, the depths to which he had sunk. This was not something she could lucidly deal with right now and she took her leave, with apologies, to her room.
Jansenn barked another order and Zac stepped fully away from the child. The doctor needed room to work, and if the child was to have any hope at all, then Joseff needed the space to do what he could. Zac was near shaking as he stepped away. He wiped his face with his shoulder and gave the kid a last look. Blood streaked his face as he headed stoically for the doors. That one eye narrowed as it scanned the street, searching for something. Anything. He stopped and shifted a bit, seeing the hint of a glowing light and a inkbrush stroke of a form. He did not seek the source of this anomaly as one would have thought, but merely put the Hospital behind him and clipped his steps out of the doors to a nearby alleyway and around a corner. The time would come for the one who committed this atrocity. But it was not now. It may not be he who wielded the axe of justice, but Zac knew that it would fall.
The doctor looked over the kid, and could not suppress the thought that this could have been the next surgeon for the Hospital. Hell, he could have been anything he wanted to be. This was no way for a child to live. No, he had to stop thinking like that. The child lived still and Joseff was not going to let him end up like Billy. He finished up what he could immediately do, that the nurses' could not, and left them to their work, feeling old, tired and weak. He made inquiries after Terra at the desk and made his way to the showers.
Outside, across the street, violet eyes watched the doors of the Hospital and they watched the one-eyed man leave and turn down an alley. Garth's mind was at war with itself, in every conceivable way. The inner struggle fanned it's own fires and for a moment, he wins, and a tear slid down his cheek. The stare held nothing but blankness and confusion and he could not rip his eyes from the doorway. The scale on which this battle was being fought tipped to one side and the mania from his eyes cleared for a moment. "Terra", he whispered, "Gods, what is wrong with me?"
His head cleared in that instant, but it was anyone's guess as to how long it would remain so. He began a silent chant to himself, his own personal mantra … whatever it took to convince himself. "I am Commander Garth Lowinn of the Legion of Freemen, Special Ops Division. I am not a needless killer." He left that alleyway, by the Hospital, and disappeared around the back, entering through a oft forgotten about door. His destination was clear in his mind as he continued the murmured statements of conviction. "I am Garth Lowinn … I am Garth Lowinn … I am Garth Lowinn … "
He needed to get cleaned up. Blood on clothing was never a glorious sight, but when it came from a kid, it was always that much more despicable. Joseff gladly shed his scrubs and stepped into the showers, welcoming the hiss of the hot water from the spicket. He laid his head against the wall and cried. He cried shower-hidden tears until the buzzer sounded his allotment. He took a few moments in the stall to collect himself and stepped back out, toweling himself off quickly and redressing. He had a child to check up on.
A nurse and an orderly had already made quick work of the casting and other bandages that the lad needed. A quick survey of his vitals showed that the pulse was stronger and the blood pressure was up. There was only one reason this kid was still alive, and that reason had left the ER arena. Joseff sat down tiredly next to the boy and laid his head in the small hand. He listened to the gentle 'wheez-puff- of the ventilator and murmured to the boy. "You're going to live. I won't lose you, Billy." He spoke those same words that had nearly driven him from his medical practice years ago. Billy was a boy who had been hit by a Freemen jeep as he chased a ball out into the road. The Freemen couldn't be blamed, except if they weren't driving around causing trouble … the kid would have been safe. Damn the Legion, and damn the Church for making them.
A nurse stopped in to check on both doctor and patient and handed the elder a glass of heated liquid. "Is he doing ok?" she asked.
Joseff could only shake his head. "He's alive. Stable. We're breathing for him. He has a bad head trauma though." They both knew just what that could mean, and neither wanted to press that issue any further.
"I see", said the nurse gently. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "At least you gave him a chance, doctor."
His eyes closed as he leaned into her touch slightly. "Yes. He has a chance. Why doesn't it ever get easier?"
She had been around the man long enough to know what he meant. He meant the children, and there was no good answer. "I dunno", she sighed. "Maybe you're still carrying guilt over that kid Billy. You did everything you could … operated for 13 hours straight … but he was just too far gone. But this one. This one has a chance." She smiled down to him and then did what nurses did best … gave him an order to be followed. "Go. You need your rest. I'll have an orderly watch over him."
Joseff nodded. She was right, and he knew it. He would be no good to this boy if he was not fully alert, and he had no intention of letting another youngster, or himself, down. The surgeon stretched and shuffled his way back to his room for a moment or two of well deserved rest.