surroundings had gone blurry from pain and blood loss, his face in front of mine was the only thing in razor-sharp focus.
You will not hesitate on my command again. When I give the order, you will obey.
Fourteen
MARIPOSA
“If you don’t have a scalpel out in the field, use anything you can find with a sharp edge,” I said to the small group of new medics. “A pocket knife will do, even a shard of glass can get the job done. But you must have some way to sterilize it, whether that’s rubbing alcohol, a lighter, or a flask of whiskey.”
A few chuckles arose from my group, but I kept my face solemn. “It might be funny to think about, but you won’t have time to think out there. Whatever you have on-hand might be the thing that saves someone’s life. Got one of those little teddy bears on a keychain to remind you of your kids, maybe? Guess what, you might end up dousing it in whiskey and shoving it into a bleeding hole in someone’s arm because you ran out of gauze.”
The doors burst open then, Rhonda coming in fast and leaning heavily on her cane. “We’ve got four incoming with multiple stab wounds. One deceased with multiple gunshot wounds.”
Stabbings and gunshots? What the hell?
A mix of adrenaline and fear coursed through me as I nodded and turned back to the new medics waiting for my instruction. “You heard her, get your asses to the ER.”
We all sprung into action, running down the hallway toward the stairwell. Jogging down the steps two at a time, I tried to stamp down my worry. Multiple stab wounds weren’t supposed to happen in a place like Four Corners. Who and what could have caused this?
“Two medics per patient,” I instructed, opening a faucet just outside the emergency room doors to scrub my hands vigorously.
Everyone around me did the same prep in solemn silence. Washing hands and putting on gloves, donning masks and surgical caps before heading in to save some lives. I followed after my students, eyes scanning the room to assess the damage when a horrifying realization dawned on me.
Governor Vance was conscious, sitting up and looking pale as the medics cut away his blood-soaked shirt. Forgetting myself, I ran to his side in a panic.
“Governor!” I cried, my voice muffled through my mask. “What happened? Who did this?”
“Oh shit, this is the governor?” a student asked, his eyes going wide.
“Keep working on him, you’re doing fine,” I said before addressing Vance again. “You’re going to be okay, sir. Seems you made off with the fewest injuries.”
“Josh!” The shocked man looked all around the room as if searching for his assistant.
Another medic gently pressed back on the governor’s shoulders. “Sir, I’m going to need you to hold still and remain calm—”
“I think he killed Josh!” Vance cried out in a panicked sob. “He stabbed General Bray and Reaper too, but—”
“Reaper?” I repeated, my own voice rising with panic. “My husband, Reaper?”
“Reaper shot him. I don’t know if he made it, I’m sorry. It all happened so fast—”
I pulled away, frantically looking around the room in search of my husband. Josh seemed to be in the worst shape, Dr. Brooks and another doctor were tending to him along with two of my medics.
“Finn!” I ran to my father-in-law’s gurney, making sure to stay behind the medics who worked quickly to slow his bleeding.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled, despite looking pained and pale. “I meant to come visit you at work, but not like this.”
“What happened?”
“Eduardo,” he hissed, grinding his teeth. “Fuck, it’s my fault. I was too trusting—”
“You couldn’t have known,” I said. Now I knew where my husband’s tendency to shoulder all the blame came from.
“I’m alright, Mari,” Finn insisted. “I’ve had worse. Go find your man.”
“Okay,” I nodded, stepping away. “I’ll be back to check on you.” He was stable, his single stab wound was being tended to quickly and blood bags were being set up for his transfusion. That only left…
Reaper was lying on a gurney, his body still and pale as two medics hovered over him, bloodied and shirtless.
“Talk to me,” I snapped, shoving my way over to my husband’s side.
“He lost a lot of blood quickly. The weapon nicked the SMA and his lung—”
“Why aren’t his transfusion lines set up yet?”
“We’re finding out his blood ty—”
“He’s O-negative. Grab the blood and set up the drip now.”
The medics rushed to follow my instructions while I took over pressing down on