“Damnit!” Doc glanced around him. “I need something long and hollow. Like...a reed or a straw or—”
“How about a pen?” Cami asked. “I have a cheap plastic one in my purse. If you pull out the ink well and the top and bottom, it’s basically just a tube.”
“Perfect.” Doc nodded. “Grab it. Quick.”
Cami jumped up to scramble back to the life raft at the same time Doc squirted the iodine over his hands. He splashed a healthy portion over the right side of Romeo’s chest.
“Should I take my hands away from the wound?” Mia rasped, trying to keep the fear and horror she felt out of her expression. She needed to look calm and composed because she could feel Romeo watching her, and she wasn’t sure if he was using her face as a gauge to see how bad things truly were, or if he was using her face as a focal point to keep himself from panicking because he was suffocating.
Either way, she couldn’t give into the hysteria bubbling inside her.
“No,” Doc said. “I’m going to be cutting into his second intercostal space, which is below the bullet wound. So just keep applying pressure.”
Mia hadn’t the first clue what an intercostal space was, and quite frankly she didn’t give a hot damn. The only thing she cared about was Romeo’s life and following Doc’s orders to a T. If he’d told her to stand on her head while crossing her eyes and singing the national anthem, she’d have done that too.
“Here!” Cami thrust the clear plastic barrel of a pen at Doc with one hand. In her other hand, she carried the flare gun case.
As Doc doused the hollow pen barrel, inside and out, with the iodine, he said to Cami, “In case you were thinking we could use the flare gun to cauterize his wound, I hate to tell you—”
“The flare isn’t for Romeo,” Cami cut him off. “I grabbed it to signal the boat. But then I thought, what if the boat istheirboat?” She hitched a thumb toward the two dead men.
“What boat?” Doc demanded as he walked his fingers along Romeo’s ribs.
Romeo continued to clutch for breath, and Mia held his gaze, telling him with her eyes,You got this. Just hang on and let Doc do his work.Of course, silently she was still urging Doc tohurry, hurry, hurry!
“Thatboat.” Cami pointed.
Mia didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. Instead, she continued to hold Romeo’s gaze, willing some of her strength to flow into him. But Doc briefly glanced in the direction Cami pointed.
“That’s not their boat. That’s a Coast Guard Cutter,” he told her. “Use the flare.” Mia had a moment to feel relief.We’re saved!But it was all-too-brief, because in the next breath, Doc said to Romeo, “Try not to move. This is going to hurt like hell.”
Obviously Doc thought Romeo didn’t have time to wait for the Cutter and the medical bay that was on board. Andthattold Miaexactlyhow dire Romeo’s situation was.
Once again, she sent a plea out into the abyss.Please! If you have to take someone, take me!
Romeo gave a nod to tell Doc he was ready, and Mia gritted her teeth when Doc shoved the scalpel between Romeo’s ribs. Romeo’s jaw clenched, his eyes screwed shut, his bare heels beat slightly against the sand. But other than that, he remained perfectly still.
She’d always known he was tough. But she’d had no idea justhowtough until that very moment.
The man had been shot in the chest, and now Doc had stabbed him, shoved a finger inside the stab wound to hold it open, and was in the process of pushing the empty pen barrel between his ribs. Yet somehow, he kept himself from writhing and howling.
Two things happened simultaneously, then. A loudhissof air rushed through the open end of the plastic tube and Cami pulled the trigger on the flare gun.
Mia barely spared the flare a glance as it arced across the star-spangled sky before once again pinning her gaze to Romeo’s face. His eyes were open again, and he was no longer gasping for breath. Panting a little, sure. But it was obvious Doc’s ministrations had worked. He was breathing.
He’sbreathing!Which meant Mia should probably breathe too.
She raked in a lungful of air, feeling the rush of oxygen go straight to her head. “Spiro?”
“I-I’m okay,” he said hoarsely.
She thought,Yes, you can breathe. But you’ve still been shot, and you’re still bleeding!The proof continued to ooze between her fingers. With every drop he lost, she felt like a drop of her soul went with it.
She’d survived heartache plenty of times with the loss of her grandmother, and then her brother, and finally her father. But she wasn’t sure she could survive Romeo’s loss. Or, more precisely, she wasn’t sure she’dwantto survive it.
What would be the point of living in a world without him in it?
“Thanks, Doc,” he wheezed.
