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FIC: 'Til Death Do Us Part 2/7

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  • rimmette@earthlink.net
    Whoops, sorry about the formatting on the first one. Disclaimers, etc. in part one. ***** Anna looked into her mother s eyes and saw, nothing. The vacant,
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 30, 2001
      Whoops, sorry about the formatting on the first one.

      Disclaimers, etc. in part one.


      Anna looked into her mother's eyes and saw, nothing. The vacant,
      glassy stare held no warmth, no comfort, just cold nothingness. Anna
      called to her, begging her to move, asking for her help, but aside
      from the occasional muscle spasms, Marie was eerily still.

      Anna had never seen death. She'd never owned a pet, and never known
      anyone who passed away. Sure, people got hurt all the time. Dad got
      hurt more times than she could count, but he always healed. Even in
      her inexperience, she sensed that this injury was permanent. Even
      though her mother's body was still in the Jeep with her, the part
      that made her Mom was gone.

      She hung from her seat in shocked horror, stunned at what she had
      done. It was her fault. If she hadn't said something about the
      seatbelt, if she hadn't distracted Mom at a critical moment,
      everything would be ok. She'd killed her mother, but not only that,
      she'd been so snotty when Mom was just trying to be helpful.

      A strange man kneeled down beside the Jeep, distracting her from her
      thoughts and taking her gaze away from the body below her. He talked
      to her, trying to comfort her until help arrived. His name was
      David, and he was really nice. In an effort to be soothing, he
      grasped her hand, but she yelped as shockwaves of pain spread from
      her shoulder through her entire body.

      Her shoulder was just one of the many places she hurt. The seatbelt
      dug painfully into her stomach as she hung from it, and she could
      feel an odd pressure starting to build. Soon, the pressure turned
      into pain, and by the time the paramedics arrived, she was clutching
      it in agony.

      "She's in a lot of pain," she could hear David say, talking to people
      she couldn't see. "Mostly she says her stomach hurts, but she
      screamed when I touched her right arm."

      "What's her name?" a woman asked.


      "Anyone else in there with her?"

      "The mother. She's dead."

      "Ok, step aside, sir," a man commanded.

      "Anna," David called. "These people are going to help you. You're
      gonna be ok."

      "Ok," she answered weakly.

      "Hi, Anna. I'm Natalie. David says your tummy hurts."

      "Yeah," she whimpered.

      "Ok, I'm going to put this collar on your neck and then me and Doug
      here are going to pull you outta there. Sound good?"

      "What... what about Mom?"

      "Um, some other people'll take care of her. They'll look after her
      real good. I promise, honey."

      Anna couldn't help crying as she was pulled from the Jeep, the pain
      of her injuries almost overwhelming. Finally, she was out and
      strapped down to a backboard. She could hear Natalie and Doug
      talking about her, but they didn't understand most of what they were

      "Distended abdomen, could be the spleen. Must've been slouched in
      her seat or wearing the belt higher on her stomach."

      "Shoulder looks bad too."

      "Broken clavicle. Could require surgery."

      Anna let their voices drift away as she finally succumbed to
      comforting, pain-free sleep.


      "What's the hold up?" Jean asked from the back of the van. Her
      patient was stable for now, but they were making lousy time back to
      the mansion.

      "Gotta be an accident. I'll check the radio," Logan replied,
      adjusting the stations until he heard a broadcaster
      announce, "Traffic and weather: together on the nines."

      It was 4:57 p.m., so he waited two minutes until the broadcast
      started. Sure enough, the reporter told of a three-car pile-up
      involving injuries on Foothill Boulevard backing up all the way to
      Center Street. Even as he heard the announcement, he saw an
      ambulance speeding past his van, heading back in the direction of the
      hospital he and Jeanie had just left.

      Shelley lay across the row of seats in the back, resting until Jean
      could get her to the med lab and properly treated. She'd been in a
      minor car accident with her parents, but both of whom had been killed
      when they were splattered with blood from a cut on her arm. The
      doctors at Mercy Hospital refused to treat her, for fear of being
      killed themselves, allowing her to slowly bleed to death. Huh, some

      After thirty minutes, they'd finally crept up to the scene of the
      accident. Tow trucks were picking up the damaged vehicles and
      clearing the road. Logan slammed on his brakes when he saw the
      familiar Jeep.

      Throwing the van into park, he leapt from his seat and ran across the
      lanes of traffic towards the empty vehicle. Leaning inside, he
      smelled blood. Marie and Anna's blood. No, God, please, no! There
      wasn't just the smell of blood, though. He could detect the viscous
      smell of death on the interior. Marie? Anna? Both? NO!!!

      Grabbing the tow truck operator and lifting him by his shirt collar
      he growled. "Where are they?"

      The man shook in his grasp, visibly terrified. "They... Mercy

      Logan dropped the man, ran back to the van, and screeched a U-turn,
      heading back the way he had come, towards a hospital that treated
      mutants worse than animals.


      See part three.
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