Darting around the last corner, Cheyenne saw the flashing lights of an ambulance pulling up to VCU’s emergency room doors. She reached the entrance before the ambulance driver had pressed the brakes.
A muted crack ripped through the air when she stopped. Those few people making their way into the ER glanced about in surprise at the whipping wind. Several gawked at the dark-skinned woman appearing in front of them.
Cheyenne ignored them all, took a deep breath, and carried Ember through the automatic doors. The ER waiting room was filled with humans hacking and coughing, moaning, cradling bloody limbs, pressing ice packs to their faces, and leaning their heads against the wall as they waited to be seen while trying not to lose composure.
Cheyenne fought back panic when she sensed Ember’s sluggish heartbeat dwindle even more. As the drow carried her dying friend into the ER, she remembered to lose the dark-gray flesh and returned to her natural paleness.
People didn’t see me. They’re just staring at all the blood.
She made a beeline to the intake desk. “I need help here!”
The two nurses behind the desk stood abruptly. “What happened?”
“She was shot.” Cheyenne stopped in front of the desk and stared at the women. Both of them took in the young woman with wild black hair and eerily pale makeup, the chains, the tears in Cheyenne’s pants, and the blood-soaked Ember, who was taller than Cheyenne who seemed to weigh as much as an empty box in the Goth girl’s arms. “Do something!”
The nurses jumped to attention. One ran around the desk toward a gurney against the wall and kicked up the wheel locks, while the other grabbed the phone and blurted “ER Code Blue!”
Cheyenne barely heard anything but her friend’s slow, whispering heartbeat.
“Ma’am?”
“What?” Cheyenne looked up with tears in her eyes.
“What’s her name?”
“Ember Gaderow.”
The other nurse patted the gurney. “Here. Lay her down…gently, that’s it.”
After she lowered her friend onto the gurney, she gripped Ember’s hand, everything slick with blood.
“You said she was shot?”
“Yeah.”
“Shot by what?”
The half-drow blinked at the nurse. “A gun.”
“Any other injuries?”
“Yeah, probably. I don’t know. Look, she needs help right now. She’s barely breathing.”
“Our CPR and Code Blue team are on the way, ma’am.”
The other nurse started to wheel Ember through the triage doors but stopped when the force of Cheyenne’s grip on Ember’s hand nearly pulled the unconscious woman off the gurney. “Ma’am, you can let go. She’s in good hands.”
Cheyenne glanced at her own hands, white skin beneath all that blood. She let Ember’s fingers slip from hers. “Where are you taking her?”
“The OR.”
“I’m coming with you.” Cheyenne surged forward.
The other nurse rounded the desk and stepped between the half-drow and her unconscious friend. “I’m sorry. You can’t—” The nurse staggered and removed her hands from Cheyenne’s shoulders. A little gasp escaped her at the force of Cheyenne’s last step that had almost knocked her backward across the ER floor.
“Ma’am, please, you have to stay out here. Let’s get a look at you too.” The nurse was joined by a strong-looking man in scrubs, who smiled and gave off a calming disposition.
“I’m fine.” Cheyenne blinked away her tears and watched Ember get wheeled through the swinging doors.
“You’re covered in blood, and you’re in shock.” The woman standing in front of her nodded toward a triage room across the hall from the intake desk. “Come with me, and we’ll take a look at you.”
Both nurses tried to guide Cheyenne toward the room, the woman with her hand on the half-drow’s back, and the man right behind them, still smiling. Cheyenne jerked away and tried to see Ember again through the swinging doors.
She was gone.
“Ma’am, please…” spoke the male nurse, gesturing at an open room.
“Hey, only one of us got shot, okay? And it wasn’t me.” Cheyenne balled her hands into fists and tried to calm her breathing, but the rage still smoldered. The last thing I need right now is a repeat of the skatepark. Keep it under control.
Both nurses blinked at her and offered sympathetic smiles. The woman asked, “What’s your name?”
Cheyenne stared at them both, swallowed, then turned and walked out of the ER without speaking another word.
Chapter Six
She nearly barreled right into a woman being pushed through the doors in a wheelchair. The woman moaned and rolled her head from side to side. When both the chair and Cheyenne stopped to avoid crashing into each other, the agonized woman took one look at the Goth girl covered in white makeup and someone else’s blood and fell quiet.
Avoiding everyone else’s gazes and all the staring, Cheyenne swerved around the wheelchair and stalked outside. I need air. I need to think. I need…
A short, vengeful growl escaped her as she moved down the sidewalk outside the hospital. A man with a cane hobbling toward the ER jumped at the sound, glanced at her, and double-timed it toward the doors.
Smoothing the hair away from her face, Cheyenne ignored the old-timer and took a deep breath. “How did I let that happen? I should’ve just gone with her. Some fucking friends…”
She paced the sidewalk until her rage lessened, then she turned toward the ER again. She approached the intake desk, and the same nurse, whose nametag she read for the first time, looked a little less terrified of the bloodied Goth chick reentering the emergency room.
“Sharon. Can you at least please find out how she’s doing?”
“With a gunshot wound and that much blood loss, they took her straight to the OR. We won’t know anything for a bit.”
“She’s in surgery now? Can’t you get an update?”
The nurse spread her arms and bowed her
