“Here!” A paramedic from a nearby ambulance company waved him in. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mike, then Josie, but couldn’t say anything as Laura coughed and mumbled.
“Shhhh,” he said as he laid her down on the gurney. “Twenty-nine year old caucasian female, pregnant. How far along are you, Laura?” he asked.
“Nineteen weeks.” Her voice was getting smaller, her breathing more labored. Shit—how much smoke had she inhaled? He could see Mike and Josie trying to come over, a cop behind yellow tape blocking them, Mike arguing and gesturing wildly.
Then Josie slipped under the tape and sprinted, screaming “She’s pregnant!” Mike’s arms stopped in mid-air, his face agog. Dylan would have to deal with him later.
“I’m so sorry,” Laura rasped. “I was about to tell you, but...”
Dylan kissed her forehead and smiled, sniffing as he cried tears he didn’t know he was capable of. “It’s complicated,” he whispered.
She choked out a very weak laugh and said, “It’s always—” before losing consciousness.
Mike broke past the cop and shouted “Laura!” as the paramedics worked on her, loading her into the ambulance, Josie seamlessly climbing in for the ride. “Brigham” she mouthed to him as the lights turned on, the sirens roared, the back of the ambulance shrinking, then turning left, out of sight.
Of course they would take her to Brigham and Women’s Hospital. That’s where all the high risk pregnancies—
Fingertips touched his soot-covered arm tentatively. “Dylan? Is she—” Mike stood there, wild-eyed and shirtless, flip-flops on his feet and running shorts thrown on. He’d clearly raced here from the cabin. How did he get here so fast?
“She’s breathing. They’re taking her to the Brigham. How’d you get here so fast?”
“I’m at a meditation retreat here in town.” He shook his head impatiently. “The Brigham? Why would they take her there? You always said that’s where...” Mike’s voice faded out. “Oh, holy fuck.”
Dylan slipped to the ground, his own body coming into sharp focus. Lungs were a bit wheezy, his body covered in black, feet floating in sockless boots, brain hurting. “She’s pregnant, Mike. Nineteen weeks.”
“That means—” Mike sat down next to him, elbows on knees. “We gotta get there. Now.”
One of the firefighters shouted “Clear!” and Dylan knew from the response that he wasn’t needed; so many guys were here he’d just get in the way now.
“Yeah, we do. Can you drive?” A lump formed in Dylan’s throat at the simple request, so casual and assumed, like old times.
Mike looked down at his attire. It was November. “Can we stop by the apartment and let me grab something? Or—” Mike’s question carried so many layers of meaning. Four month’s worth.
Maybe a lifetime’s worth.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll drive, then, and park the car at home.” They walked quietly toward the street until Mike grabbed Dylan’s arm. “Hey, Dyl?”
“What?” Exhaustion was creeping in. He didn’t have it in him to argue.
“I’m so sorry.” The embrace was the last thing he expected. And then—“Thank you for saving her.”
“Them.”
Mike pulled back, confused. His face cleared and he raked his hair, shaking his head. “Them. Right. Hoo boy.”
“Hoo boy? Hoo girl?” Dylan responded, the knee-jerk joke so inappropriate he cringed. Couldn’t turn it off, even in crisis.
Mike’s answer came as an afterthought as the two split to their respective vehicles, both running, seeming to communicate without words. “Who knows?” he shouted, the joke capturing Dylan’s heart and carrying him forward, hopeful, as they raced to their future.
Chapter Eight
A fireball was in her crotch, pushing hard, so hard, to come out. Laura couldn’t breathe, scratching at her neck, trying to claw open her trachea to get air, air, air. Oxygen was gone, her throat spasming as her vagina split open, divided in two, and out came an enormous, glowing-orange sphere, shooting across the surgical room and catching the wall on fire.
Screaming, she opened her eyes to find a nurse pushing buttons on some sort of box, a man in scrubs holding her arm down, and six very worried eyes watching her from a few feet away.
Eyes she knew.
She was on her left side and the nurse had her face in both hands, eyes boring into her. “Laura! Laura! I need you to breathe slowly, to focus. We can’t find the baby’s heartbeat— ”