“How about I just shove that camera up your ass then smash your fucking face in?” I asked. I could feel the demon inside me clawing, forcing its way out, the edges of my vision going red. I was going into battle rage, something I hadn’t felt against another person since that last boxing match two years prior. It was honestly a welcome feeling.
Sydney chuckled and turned away, waving with his left hand over his shoulder. “Whatever. See you on the Internet, fuckers. Have a nice life.”
I was up in an instant, surging toward Sydney, only too late realizing he’d been baiting me. His right hand, which I hadn’t seen clearly since he took it out of his pocket, flashed forward, and a sharp pain pierced my stomach even as I slammed into him, shoving him down the hallway. I took another step before realizing I couldn’t breathe, and the pain drove me to my knees, my hands going to just below my sternum.
Sydney watched me, the small knife in his hand stained red with my blood, grinning as he climbed to his feet. “That’s what you get for breaking my nose, asshole,” he said. I struggled to get to my feet as he came toward me again, but stumbled, the red in my vision turning gray as my life’s blood dripped onto the carpet and the oxygen left my body. “Now you get to watch as I take what I deserve out of your precious love as well.”
But Alix wasn’t on the carpet any longer, having jumped to her feet while Sydney was focused on me. When he turned, she had a baseball bat in her hand, swinging it hard enough to leave a divot in the wall. She was angry, wild, and Sydney could see she wouldn’t be the timid girl he’d slapped around so easily just a couple of months prior. He shook his head and left, running out the door while I collapsed face-first onto the tile, the world fading.
* * *
The next thing I was aware of was a very, very bright light. At first I thought that perhaps all the New Age shows I’d ever watched on cable were correct, and that you were supposed to go into the light when you died. However, the next thing I knew, I could hear the beeping sound of a heart monitor, and then the hiss and thump of a ventilator.
I squinted and blinked, trying to gather my senses. I was in a hospital, that was for certain, although I couldn’t tell much more. Looking to my side, I saw a nurse checking my vitals on the heart monitor before looking down at me. “You’re intubated, so you can’t speak right now, Mr. Prescott,” she said, professional to the utmost. “You lost a lot of blood, and you’ve been out of surgery a few hours.”
I nodded, feeling the constricting harshness in my throat, and pointed to the pen on the sleeve of her surgical top. Understanding what I wanted, she handed it to me along with a pad of paper. Family?
“They’re outside, you’re still technically in the recovery room,” she said. “I’ll get the doctor to give you a check out, and see if we can move you to your room. They’ll be able to meet you there.”
Tube out?
“That’s up to the doctor. He had to repair a puncture to your diaphragm, so you’re not going to be breathing well for quite a while. But if he thinks you’re doing well, maybe he can move you to a normal respirator soon enough.”
She turned to go and I reached out, causing her to stop. “Yes, Mr. Prescott?”
Police?
“I don’t know anything about that, Mr. Prescott. I know you were brought in by ambulance, and there were some officers talking to the blonde girl who was with you. That’s all.”
I nodded and laid my head back, already exhausted with the little effort it took to write. Maybe it was an aftereffect of the anesthesia or my punctured diaphragm. In any case, I laid my head back and waited for the doctor, my eyes slipping closed as I rested.
I came to again in a hospital room, Alix sitting in the chair next to my bed, holding my hand. The tube was out, but I was wearing one of those masks that go over your entire mouth and nose. I squeezed her fingers weakly, smiling at her tired face.
“Alix,” I whispered, unheard to her through my mask. I tugged the mask down enough to say the most important words on my mind. “You’re safe.”
She blinked and nodded, her tear-streaked face puffy from crying. “You need to put your mask back on,” she said, helping me reseat the mask. “The doctors told me that was very important.”
I looked around for a pen and paper, miming writing. Alix nodded and reached behind my head, grabbing a small white board and pen. “The doctor said you might find this easier and less messy,” she said, handing it to me. “Go ahead.”
Dad and Mom?
“I told them you were injured, but that they needed to go ahead with the press conference. Tell the press that we were in an accident or something. They don’t know how bad it was. So they delayed it some, but it’s still going to be live on the ten o’clock news. It’s nearly ten now.”