Page 77 of The Whispering Girls

“Let’s go,” she said.

They decided to load McGaven into John’s truck, where there was more room, causing less discomfort. The snowstorm was indeed building force and soon the roads would be completely impassable. There was no way to contact emergency resources in Echo Forest.

The hospital fire was slowing down, though intense smoke escaped every crevice, blown window, and entrance. Katie hoped it wouldn’t spread, but there weren’t any buildings or trees near. The snow would help to smother the fire.

Katie jumped in her Jeep with an anxious Cisco waiting. The dog kept trying to lick her wounds and sit next to her. She watched as John pulled his truck out onto the main road with her partner hurt and bleeding in the back seat. The pain she felt at not being able to get him to a hospital would forever gnaw at her soul.

As she pulled out into the snow, for some reason, an obsessive thought kept running through her mind.

Three down…more to go…

THIRTY-ONE

Saturday 0000 hours

Katie was relieved when they finally reached the Echo Forest Lodge and Jack’s truck was parked out front. There had been a few risky moments as they drove back from the burning hospital. She hastily parked and leaped out in the snow followed closely by Cisco. Once her boots sunk down in the cold her legs froze. For as long as it took to drive back to the lodge, it must’ve dropped another ten degrees. Katie reached the truck to help John with McGaven. They made their way to the entrance of the veterinary clinic. Before they got there, Jack opened the door.

“What’s happened?”

“We need your help. We were ambushed at the hospital and there was an explosion,” she said.

“What?” said Jack in disbelief. He didn’t waste any time and hurried them inside. “Please, take him to the main examination room.”

Cisco trotted inside.

Katie and John helped McGaven to the room, which wasdesigned for domestic animals and so had a short examination table. Nevertheless, they were able to wrangle McGaven onto the stainless table and lay him down. His lower legs and feet hung over the end, but the detective didn’t seem to mind. Katie found some clean towels and improvised a pillow, gently positioning it under his head.

Jack entered carrying a stainless-steel bowl with emergency supplies of gauze, bandages, various ointments, and other necessities.

“He’s got some shattered pieces in his chest,” she said. “We didn’t know how deep they were, so we left them there.”

“You did right.” Jack began assessing the wounds on McGaven’s head and hands before he got help to remove his jacket and shirt.

Katie felt herself losing it—there was much more to do but McGaven’s injuries took precedence. She fought back the tears and stood strong, watching Jack sanitize the wounds and dress them.

The vet put on glasses that were extra magnified, studying the area around McGaven’s chest where the pieces were imbedded. He carefully moved one piece back and forth, trying to determine the deepness of the shrapnel, then he stood up.

McGaven grimaced. “That’s painful.”

“The good news is that it isn’t as deep as I first thought.”

“That’s good.” He let out a breath.

“I’m going to have to numb the area with a mild antiseptic, remove the pieces, and…I think you might need a few other stitches.”

“Cool,” said McGaven.

Katie smiled mostly out of relief, but also because her partner could still crack jokes even when things seemed almost impossible. “Can I do anything?” she said.

Jack looked up at her and smiled. “No, it’s routine.”

“You mean your local dogs and cats get shrapnel in the chest?” said McGaven.

“No, but they get bites and complications from all kinds of injuries,” said the vet. “Detective, I’m sure you’re exhausted. Go up to the lodge.”

“I think I’m going to wait here,” she said.

“I’ll wait too,” said John.