Page 18 of Chaos & Carnage
“Not tonight. He’s out with his mates.”
I shook my head. “No. I just want to sleep. In between kitten feeds, anyway.”
Abbie frowned. “You need to have a life, Alice. And you need a break.”
“I know. And I will. Eventually. Just…”
The door crashed open, clattering off the bench, vibrating through the thin walls of the examination rooms.
“Alice. The cat. She’s crashing.”
We both stared at the other nurse, just for a second, and probably a second too long, before running through to the room of cages and to the little black bundle of fur lying with her eyes closed as kittens cuddled into her.
“Damn it!” I cursed, easing the babies away and scooping her out. “I told Stu it was too soon to let her back in with the kittens.”
I raced to the operating room, the little black bundle limp against me, a front paw hanging over my arm. She lay still on the steel table, her sides pulling and heaving, fighting for every tiny breath. Her veins were paper thin, delicate, not enough fluid running through her body to push in an IV line, each attempt failing and the little cat fading with each second. Nothing was working, and no injection I pushed straight into her flesh and muscles brought her round. For a moment she moved her head, just enough to look at me, to let out a little purr, and then the light faded from her green eyes. Her fight dying with her and her exhausted body lying on the steel countertop in the operating theatre, rigidity creeping in the moment her heart stilled for good.
I glanced across at the two vet nurses, their faces everything that I felt inside. Failure and loss and a heavy kick in the stomach. It never got easier. No matter how many we lost. My eyes burned and my throat swelled, and I was so fucking tired.
“The kittens,” Abbie whispered.
“I’ll take care of them. I’ll clean up here. You two can get away if you like. It’s well after closing.”
Both of them nodded, their faces full of defeat, and soon I was left standing over the body of the little black cat.
She’d cooled quickly, the warmth seeping into the metal underneath her and for a while I stood watching, gazing down at the little stray that had fought so hard to look after her babies, but her tiny, malnourished body couldn’t take the strain. Neglected and cast aside, she’d been brought in too late. Like many before her. No one to love her. No one to care for her. No one to do the right thing. The tears fell easily then, when everyone had gone home, when I stood in the bright lights in the operating room.
I don’t know how long I stood staring at the dull black fur. She’d never got a chance to recover, to get her shine back. Her coat would never be glossy and sleek, like it was supposed to be, ever again. Life was cruel and humans even more so. Packaging her up carefully, I wrapped her body and moved it out to the freezer in the shed at the bottom of the yard. The evening air was already harsh, the cold nipping at my arms through my thin sleeved top, white tendrils of my breath left in the surrounding air. I hurried back towards the building, the back door of the operating room hanging open, waiting for me. I felt it the minute I put my foot down, not quite the friction under my shoe as I’d expected, my foot still moving, sliding, flying out in front of me, my arms spiralling, clutching at nothing.
The ground met me with a wallop, my head hitting the concrete and rebounding to hit it again. And then I was blind, nothing but swirling black and even darker shadows, and now pain. Dull at first. An ache, just in one spot, but suddenly it radiated around my skull like an explosion. Shit, that hurt. When the shadows plaguing my sight cleared, only the twinkle of stars was left. Lots of tiny, bright pin pricks.
“Al?” A voice I recognised, but I couldn’t see anyone, only stars. “Alice, are you ok? What happened?”
His voice was closer, velvety, beautiful, angelic. My head hurt. And now I could smell him, clean, leathery, a sharpness to his usual aftershave, as though he’d only just put it on.
“Are you hurt?”
He was still talking, but all I could see were stars. My head thumped.
“Can you speak?”
I tried to nod, but it hurt. And I was so very cold, the ice on the concrete underneath me seeping through my thin clothes. I needed to get inside before I got hypodermia. No, that wasn’t right. Hypothermic. Shit. My brain scrabbled to even make up the right thought. Before I got colder, that was it. An arm scooped under my head, another under my legs. He groaned, a gush of warm air brushing over my face, and now I was floating, getting closer to the stars.
“Alice, we need to get you inside.”
“Cold.” My voice was a whisper, yet it felt like it took every effort in my body to form that word.
“Not surprised, Al. You’re lying on top of ice.”
“I can see stars.” That was better. That was a sentence.
“Course you can, babe. There’re no clouds tonight.”
“So, I’m conscious?”
“Yeah. You’re conscious.”
“Good. I think,” the warmth of the operating room hit me like someone had just opened an oven door, and it chased shivers all over my body. “You can put me down now, Cade.”