Mike was just settling down to read the paper when he heard Andi scream. Even though she was far away on the beach below, he heard her cry as clearly as if she were in the next room.
He leaped out of his chair and dashed out the back door. Wasting no time standing on the verandah looking for her, he pelted down the stairs two at a time. When he reached the bottom he could hear the others following him, but it barely registered in his panic-filled mind as he raced across the beach towards Andi--and the five men who surrounded her.
He plowed into the first one with a howl of rage, knocking the shorter man to the ground. One of the others grabbed him by the shoulder, but Mike clocked him right across the face, knocking him cold.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind and lifted him off his feet, crushing his chest. He kicked violently, but nothing could dislodge those arms. Just as he was beginning to feel faint, the arms released him, and he fell to the ground with a loud grunt. He looked up to see Micky and Davy each dangling from an arm of the behemoth, who had succeeded in badly bruising Mike’s arms and breastbone.
The other two men picked up the one Mike had crashed into and ran off. After a few moments’ thought, the behemoth flung Micky and Davy to the ground and followed them, running far faster than seemed possible. The one that Mike had hit lay unconscious and abandoned by his cohorts.
“You all right, Mike?” Micky asked, but Mike was already clawing his way over to Andi. She was sitting lopsidedly on the sand, both hands clasped tightly over her right side. She seemed relieved to see Mike and Micky and Davy, but her eyes were unfocused and dull.
“Andi?” Mike said, gently touching her shoulders. The look of fear in his eyes made Micky shudder.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said numbly, and they knew she was anything but okay.
Mike glanced down at her hands, then stopped, every drop of blood in his body turning to ice.
Andi’s black shirt was wet, and something red was beginning to seep out between her fingers.
“Oh, God,” he said, moving her hands slightly. A deep, jagged puncture wound was visible beneath the torn cloth.
“Where’s Peter?” he demanded.
“Calling the police,” Micky replied, his almond eyes wide.
“Davy, run and tell him to fire up the car. We have an emergency.” Davy hesitated for a split second, and Mike lost whatever control he possessed at the moment.
“DAVY! GO!” he bellowed. Davy took off, running as fast as his legs would carry him.
Mike lifted Andi into his arms, oblivious to the blood on his hands and shirt, oblivious to the way his muscles screamed in protest as he carried her across the sand. Micky kept an even pace with them, ready to help if Mike faltered.
Peter appeared at the top of the stairs, accompanied by two uniformed police officers. When he saw Andi the color drained from his face.
“What-?” he began.
“No time!” Mike snapped. He looked at the two cops. “Down there. There’s one left,” he said brusquely, indicating the still-unconscious man lying on the beach.
“Micky! Come on! You’re driving!” Mike ordered, as the officers moved out of his way. As Mike passed Davy he said, “Stay here and give your statement to the cops. We’ll call you when we get to the hospital.”
Micky held the car door for Mike, who slipped into the front seat with Andi still clutched in his arms, and dashed around to the driver’s side. Peter jumped in behind Mike. Once inside, Micky floored it, and the car squealed away from the curb.
Mike looked down at Andi, who was so pale he could see the veins beneath her skin. Her eyelids fluttered as she started to drift away.
“Hey, Andi, stay with me. Come on, you’re going to be fine,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
The car hit a bump and Andi drew in a painful breath, gritting her teeth and moaning quietly.
“Can’t you drive a little more carefully?” Mike snarled.
Micky didn’t respond, keeping his attention focused on his driving. Normally the harshness of Mike’s voice would have bothered him, but at the moment Micky couldn’t blame him. He glanced at Andi’s pale face and Mike’s bloody hands and shuddered.
When they reached the hospital Micky was out first, holding the door for Mike. Peter tried to help him with Andi but Mike shook him off. Once inside everything happened so quickly that Mike’s head spun. Andi was taken away on a gurney, surrounded by doctors, and Mike, Micky, and Peter found themselves alone.
Mike stared down at his bloody hands and shirt uncomprehendingly. He slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. Peter wanted to comfort him, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He went in search of a phone instead, to let Davy know they had made it okay.
Micky looked down at Mike. “Mike?” he asked softly.
Mike looked up at him with eyes that were as dull and lifeless as Andi’s had been. “Yeah, Mick?” he said tiredly.
Micky--for perhaps the first time in his life--didn’t have any idea what to say. Instead he just touched Mike’s shoulder reassuringly, then went off to join Peter.
On to Chapter Four
Back to Chapter Two
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