Chapter One
“Mr. Brady, is he
dying?”
Sean’s eyes were wider than the rocky mountain
moon overhead as he gaped at the convulsing body of his teenage friend.
“No,” I said quickly, tying a knot in a
strip of canvas. “He’s not dying.”
Behind his glasses, Sean’s brows
wrinkled together and he stood there like a rooted pine, too frightened to move. “What’s happening to him?”
My fingers moved automatically, going
through motions that had long since become habit. “He’s going into shock. Hand me that pine limb.”
Hearing the commotion, some of the other
boys woke up and their bewildered faces gathered in a tight circle outside of
Sean’s tent.
James, one of the boys, fell to his
knees and asked, “Isaac’s in shock?” Sean handed me the stick.
“Yes,” I answered, huffing as I looped
the limb through the knots on either end of the canvas. “Jorge, try to hold his legs steady.” The dark-haired kid complied, but Isaac’s 130-pound
frame was shuddering so badly, Jorge’s biceps rippled as he tried to steady
him.
“Mr. Brady,” James asked, “why’s he in
shock?”
I really didn’t have time for
details. “He lied to me.”
“Lied to you?” Sean straddled his legs
over Isaac’s flailing arms.
“He wasn’t doing just cocaine and
booze. Whatever drug he was using, his
body wants it bad, and without it— his nervous system’s freaking out.” Standing up, I gave one end of the canvas to
Sean. “Put this by his feet. The rest of
you, help me move Isaac onto the stretcher.
We need to get him down the mountain.
Now.”
Why
did I trust Isaac to tell me the truth? I
cursed my own stupidity. I should’ve done the drug test before
bringing him up here. Then we’d know exactly what he’s on. The test never lies. But I had
just been so distracted with Susan and all the wedding plans. We took the faded-moonlit trail at a
quick jog. Isaac wasn’t dying— yet. How
long did he have?
Ten minutes later, my cell beeped to let
me know I had service again. I made the
boys stop while I quickly punched in a speed dial and then smashed the phone
between my cheek and shoulder so we could keep going.
“Uh?
Hello?” a groggy voice answered.
“Tom, it’s Colton,” I said, hoisting the
boy’s stretcher higher onto my shoulders.
“Isaac’s sick. Bad. Meet me at the trailhead. If we don’t get him into the ER, we’re going
to lose him.”
For the first time in weeks, none of the
other boys spoke. There was just the
sound of our boots crunching rocks and twigs and our haggard breathing. Though it was only June, we could see our
breath in the chill night air. Stay with me kid, I pleaded. Don’t
give out on me now.
When we reached the bottom of the trail,
the headlights of Tom’s jeep pierced the dark forest like a lighthouse beacon. The sound of his rumbling engine was a
welcome relief.
“Holy Mother of Buddha.” Tom’s tanned skin turned a pasty color in the
moonlight as he looked Isaac over. “How
long has he been like this?”
“Too long. Open the back doors.” We followed him to the rear of the Jeep, and
I yelled over my shoulder to the boys, “On three.” We set Isaac’s wasted body down inside. I hardly knew the boy— hadn’t had the chance to
get to know him yet, but that didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to let him dies out
here Others had fought the cleanse before, but never like this. Don’t
you dare die before I have a chance to fix you, I thought.
Wilson, the park ranger that managed the
camp, came out of the building and helped Tom secured Isaac in the bed of the
Jeep. The boys moved to the passenger
doors like they were going to come with us, but I herded them back.
“You stay here with Wilson on base till
we got back,” I said. “Tom and I will
get Isaac some help. They stared back at
me. Stubborn teenagers. But Wilson stepped in and they complied.
“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?” Tom asked, his blond eyebrows like one
as he frowned.
“Not enough time.” We jumped into our seats. “You drive faster than anyone anyhow.”
Evenly spaced lampposts marked the
twenty miles of interstate like heartbeats as we sped through the night. Isaac dry-heaved twice, his stomach empty of
even acid. When I looked back to check
on him, I noticed his skin had a watery pallor.
“He’s not going to make it, is he?” Tom asked. His mouth twisted to the side.
I avoided his gaze, instead staring out
the windshield. “Just drive.”
Lights flashed by on the pavement, but
it wasn’t lampposts. No cars
either. I shook my head, but more bursts
of white light shot at me from the midnight road. I smashed my palms into my temples as a
familiar pain sliced at the back of my skull.
“Hey, man,” Tom said, looking at me
sideways. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, digging my fingers
into my temples. “Just drive.” Headaches were something I’d grown used to,
but this wasn’t anything like a migraine.
Another explosion of light set my vision spinning. What
the heck is happening? My stomach twisted
and heaved. No. Not now.
I can be sick later, after we get Isaac taken care of.
Thankfully, we got to the E.R. and EMT’s
rushed to get the boy out, throwing him onto a gurney and whisking him off to a
blue-curtained bed, sticking an IV into his arm as they went. Our boots tracked mud-clods across the tile
floor, but I could hardly see them as another flash of the same white light
flared, then disappeared as quickly as it came.
“When was the last time he had fluids?”
a nurse demanded.
I’ve
got to get it together, I thought. “Um, about six tonight. He had water and electrolytes at
dinner.”
I’m
going to puke.
“He’s been de-toxing,” Tom added,
looking on as the boy was hooked up to more machines and another doctor was called
in.
“Vomiting?” the nurse asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, feeling that I would
be doing the same any second.
“Dude, you don’t look good.” Tom put a
hand on my shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?” Tom’s green eyes, tight and small filled my
vision, but then another rip of light tore through his face.
My knees buckled under me like someone had
kicked them. My hands caught the cold
floor, but I couldn’t see it, only blinding whiteness. No! Somewhere above, Tom shouted for a doctor. He put a firm hand on my back, trying to help
me up, but the light suddenly vanished.
The cream tile materialized again, crusty grout and all.
I stood, slowly. “I’m fine.”
I waved the nurses off, “Go tend to Isaac. I just need to sit down for a minute.”
“Weak stomach?” one of the nurses asked,
her tight black bun bobbing as she headed away from us.
Tom just grunted and gave me a glacial
stare. What am I supposed to say? He
tried to take my arm and help me to the thin cushioned chairs lining the wall
opposite the beds, but I shrugged him off.
Two steps later, I wished I hadn’t as I nearly fell face-first into an armrest.
Sitting should have helped, but the
migraine just worsened, and the hospital felt like it had been tipped on its
side. In the next room, the ER staff
rushed around trying to stabilize Isaac.
Tom was still staring at me. “What?” I asked.
“You look like crap, man,” he grumbled,
leaning in closer. “What’s going on,
Colton?”
I shook my head like a wet dog, making
my head spin worse. “I don’t know. Just
a real bad migraine or something.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I drove,” he
replied.
“Yeah,” I agreed. Me
driving would have been really bad.
“You’re, um—” he coughed, and dropped his
voice an octave lower. “You’re not using are you?”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I looked
over at him weakly. “I just have a
really bad headache, okay?”
“Do you want me to get a doctor?” he
offered.
“No, don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
Rubbing my hands on my dirty jeans, I hoped it was true. “Maybe I ate something bad at dinner.”
“That full-meat lasagna,” Tom nodded his
head, relaxing a bit. “It does it to me every time. I’m telling you, man, vegan’s the way to go.”
“Sure.
The lasagna.” I rolled my eyes
but didn’t want to argue with Tom. Putting
my head between my knees, I prayed I wouldn’t spew all over my boots. But there was a sinking pit in my chest because
I suspected that no amount of vomit would fix what was happening to me.
Fifteen minutes later, Dr.
Fredrickson , as his name tag read, came over, clipboard in hand and all.
“We’ve contacted the boy’s parents,” he
said. “He’s in pretty bad shape, but he’s
on fluids and anti-nausea meds so he should be fine in a few days.”
I didn’t realize I’d been holding my
breath until I let a big whoosh of air out of my lungs. But the doctor wasn’t done yet.
“His case is quite severe. What kind of operation are you running up
there?” His brown eyes shifted from Tom to me.
“We help out drug-addicts. Teens mostly,” I explained, uncomfortable
with his stare. He looked at me like he
was God or something. “Look, this kind
of thing’s never happened before, and it wouldn’t have except that Isaac lied
to me. He told me he had only been using
cocaine and alcohol, and I took his word for it, which was dumb I know.”
The doctor’s face was textbook
smooth. “Well, detox can be a dangerous
thing. You need to make sure you keep
them better hydrated.”
Tom brushed back his dirty-blond
dreadlocks. “Will do.”
“Do you have proper first aid equipment
up there?” the doctor continued. “It is
crucial that—”
Just then, a series of beeps sounded
from Isaac’s bed side. It sounded like a
bomb countdown going off.
“Doctor we need you in here now!” the
blonde-bun nurse shouted. Dr.
Fredrickson’s coat whirled as he rushed back to the boy’s bedside.
I could just make out Isaac’s thin body
thrashing around on the bed. What’s happening now? I thought he was okay!
“His internal systems are shutting
down,” the doctor said, jamming a syringe into Isaac’s IV line. We jumped to our feet. Shutting down? That fast?
The beeps from the vital signs monitor quickened, faster,
faster. Then they morphed into a single
flat tone.
I’d heard that tone in movies before, but
I never imagined how terrible it would sound in real life. I saw the solid green line on the monitor
screen, and some part of my brain processed what it meant. But realizing it was about a kid I knew and
cared for— a kid I was supposed to help get better— was unreal.
Tom put his hands over his mouth in
shock. “Oh no.”
“Give me the paddles,” the doctor yelled. The nurses cut Isaac’s shirt exposing his blue-colored
chest. The doctor pressed the
defibrillator paddles into his skin and his body shook as the electric current
passed through it. Come on, Isaac, come back. Don’t
give up now. What will I tell his
parents?
Suddenly, the doctor, the nurses, and
the dying teenager I was responsible for vanished in another burst of
light. “No!” I yelled. No! This can’t be happening. Isaac is dying! Before I could go on, the complete
whiteness that surrounded me flipped to sheer black nothingness, and I was
gone.
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