Lance stared at Angus, unsure where to touch him. Glass was everywhere, but it was the large piece of glass that stuck out of Angus's neck that had his full attention. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought about his brother, about Megan, but he couldn't take his eyes off Angus as he tried to process what he'd witnessed. "Angus."
Lizzy was beside him. "Not my baby. Not him." Tears mixed with the blood that still ran down her face, dripping off her nose and chin.
"You saw him, right?" Lance looked around for Angus's ghost.
"Yeah," Lizzy whispered.
Martin called from behind them, "Angus?"
"Gone." Lizzy didn't look back at her husband. "He's gone."
Lance was vaguely aware of the chaos around them, but he couldn't take his eyes off Angus. He wanted to pull that damn glass from his body. Wanted to pull Angus to him and hold him.
Alarms were going off, sirens sounded, but Lance ignored all of it. He couldn't move, could hardly breathe. "Angus… he wouldn't leave me. He wouldn't." Lance looked around, but he saw neither Angus nor Betty. "Did Betty push him into the light?"
"I don't know. I saw her grab him, then they were gone." Lizzy fell back on her ass, then hissed in pain.
Lance was aware he should be doing something. He was a doctor after all, but he just couldn't make himself move from Angus's side. He stared at the body in front of him, unable to believe they could be laughing one moment, then gone the next. His gaze traveled over Angus, taking in the glass shards stuck in his skull, the larger glass section in his neck, then the injuries to Angus's arms, still bleeding from where the glass had cut into the skin.
A bit of the fog lifted from Lance's brain. Still bleeding. He was still bleeding. Dead bodies didn't bleed. He bent forward, placing his palm over one of the bigger cuts on Angus's arm and put pressure on it. Blood leaked through his fingertips. "Help. He's still alive. We need help over here." Lance's brain started to clear as he shifted from grief to hope. "Lizzy, he's still alive. Get help."
"Ambulances are just arriving," Jackson told him.
Lance finally took the time to glance over to find Jackson covered in blood, but holding a crying Megan against him. Relief swept through him at the sight of his brother, alert and seemingly okay other than cuts. Megan was also covered in blood, but she was alert, and that was all that mattered right now.
"Get them in here." Lance tried to think of what to do, but he had no idea how to even begin to help Angus while there was a huge piece of glass cutting into his neck. He had no tools, no bandages—nothing that would help him.
"He's alive?" Lizzy asked.
"Yes, see? He's bleeding. Dead don't bleed." Lance lifted his blood-soaked hand from the cut on Angus's arm. "But he won't be alive long if we don't get help." Lance looked around and for the first time, he saw what was happening around him. The entire restaurant was in shambles. Smoke drifted from somewhere in the back, while people, most of them bleeding or unmoving, lay on the floor. People screamed, a lot were crying, and some he knew were dead by the damage he saw. He was in shock, unable to focus. He was trained for this, trained to see bodies, but right now, he shook as if he was a child witnessing the world coming undone. "We need help over here," he yelled as he saw firefighters moving around the entry.
His yells went unheard. Everyone needed help right now. He was just one of many who was injured, but Angus really neededhelp. Lance wasn't sure how Angus's ghost had left his body and he was still alive, but he hoped that meant that the ghost would return to the body if they could just keep Angus alive.
"What's going on?" Martin called from behind them.
"He's alive, but there's a large piece of glass in his neck." Lizzy was still crying. "It's bad. Really bad." She looked back at Martin, then gasped. "Your leg."
"It's just broken. I'm okay. Someone will help me once others who need it worse are seen to." Martin tried to look to where Angus lay but couldn't see him from where he was. "Is he breathing?"
Lance couldn't tell. He checked for a pulse in his wrist, scared to touch his neck. "He's got a pulse. I don't dare touch him too much. If that glass shifts or goes any deeper…" He used the back of his hand to wipe tears from his face, then realized that his hand was covered in blood. His? Angus's? He wasn't sure. There was blood everywhere. "I have to get him help." Lance tried to stand, but his left shoulder screamed in pain as he tried to push up. Glass cut into his legs, but he ignored it as he shifted enough to use his right hand to try and brace himself so he could stand. Everything was destroyed, lying on the floor. There was nothing to use to brace himself. The tipped over chair he tried to use broke under the pressure of his hand, and finally, he had no choice but to brace his hand on Lizzy's head to get himself upright. "Sorry." He fought tears as the pain in his body increased.
"It's okay. Just save my baby." Lizzy still stared at Angus, blood and tears still dripping down her face.
"Help, over here." Lance waved his good arm, but there were so many people screaming, so many people hurt, that his pleas blended in with the chaos going on around them. Each step caused pain to course through him, but he had to get help. He shuffled his feet, trying hard to get through thedebris and wreckage around him. Tables were broken, glass was everywhere, dishes shattered, and parts of the ceiling were missing, others dangling just inches from his head. "Help! We need help."
Each step was calculated, like he was moving through a maze of objects ready to tip, crumble, or fall at any second. The smoke in the air burned his eyes and he blinked hard. He wondered if he was as covered in blood as the rest of the people he saw. Everyone was injured in one way or another. Other than the firefighters, he had yet to see anyone without blood dripping down their faces or other injuries.
He glanced back toward Angus, hating to leave his side, and realized he'd only moved a few feet from him. It felt like so much more. Glass shards were sticking out of his pant legs, his arms and hands were cut, and blood still trickled down his cheek. Still, he couldn't stop. He focused on the nearest firefighter and kept moving.
So far away. Each step felt like a mile. He fought off waves of dizziness as he searched for things he could grasp to help keep him upright. With one arm out of commission, it made things harder. What the hell had happened? Nothing he saw gave him a clue to what had caused this. "Help. He needs help," Lance called as a uniformed police officer came into view. "Over there. He's dying." Lance turned to point, got his foot caught on something, and went down. Pain exploded through him, and darkness overcame him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lance woke to the sound of voices around him, then the voices faded as he became aware of the pain he was in. Every inch of him hurt, but the worst was his shoulder. What happened? Where was he? He slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital room. Emergency room maybe. He turned his head slightly and saw the I.V. line running from the bag to where it was connected to the back of his hand. What the hell had happened?
Voices again drew his attention, and he turned to find Jackson sitting in a chair beside his bed. He blinked several times, taking in the blood that covered Jackson's face and clothes. "Jackson?"
At the sound of his voice, Jackson stood. "How are you doing?"
