“Don’t you dare die on me!” I shouted at Xavier. He was bleeding from several places. Pressure wasn’t stopping the blood flow. I searched his pockets for the magic powder he always carried and came up empty.
“In the truck,” Xavier moaned.
“Damn it!” I shouted. “This is going to hurt like hell.” Next to me was a chunk of the ride that had exploded. It was still hot. My hands burned as I grabbed it. Xavier screamed as I shoved it against the worst of his wounds. The blood flow slowed there, then stopped. I did it to a second spot.
“Stop!” He pleaded. “Oh god, stop.”
“You are going to bleed to death if I stop,” I shouted at him, tears sprang to my eyes. I pressed it against a third wound. He screamed and passed out. A paramedic appeared next to me.
“He takes blood thinners for a heart condition,” I told the paramedic. “Usually he carries this white powder that helps his blood clot, but he doesn’t have any on him.”
“Ok,” the paramedic grabbed something from his bag. He worked on Xavier, getting the blood flow to stop. “This is only temporary. We are going to have to get him to the hospital, now, if he’s going to live. I’ve got him, go help some others.”
I turned to look around. The Ferris wheel was collapsing. The parking lot was on fire. My gaze found Nick, the uncle of the little girl from earlier in the week. He was alone and he didn’t seem all that concerned about the place going up in flames. I tried to stand and chase after him, but my leg didn’t support me.
“Whoa,” the paramedic grabbed me. “You aren’t going anywhere with that.”
“It’s fine,” I used him to stand up. A chunk of colored metal protruded from my leg.
“Don’t pull that, you could be blocking an artery.”
“I’ll live. You just make sure that he does,” I told the paramedic and showed him my badge. I jerked the metal out. It bled for a few moments and then stopped.
“Do you two have the same blood type?” The paramedic asked.
“No,” I answered. “I’m A negative. He’s AB Positive.”
“Shit,” the paramedic pulled something out of his bag. “What’s his name?”
“US Marshal Xavier Reece of the SCTU.”
“Oh,” the paramedic gave me a quick look. “Go find your killer.”
“Ace!” Lucas shouted at me as I left Xavier in the hands of the single paramedic.
“He’s hurt bad, Lucas,” I told the giant. “Really bad. I know who our bomber is.” Lucas moved towards him. “You and I can’t do anything for him.”
“I have to...” Lucas stopped.
“We’ll deal with it later. When I catch this son of a bitch, I’m going to drive my foot into his skull so hard, his teeth will come out his ears,” I told Lucas.
“I’ll help,” we melted into the crowd.
There were body parts everywhere. Chunks of metal and glass littered the dead, the dying and those fighting to survive. Lucas had basic medical training as a Marine field doctor. I did what he told me, trying to save lives. Another explosion rocked the fairground. The heat seared my back as I covered up a child that was bleeding from a head wound. Lucas did the same to an older woman who had lost her hand. The unconscious child was holding it. After the heat stopped rushing over us, I took the hand from the child and tossed it to Lucas. No need to further scar the child by having it wake up and find mommy’s hand detached.
“Ace, are you all right?” Gabriel suddenly appeared.
“Help me with this,” I pointed to the child. I was holding pressure, but my hands were starting to ache. Gabriel took over. As we swapped places he let out a gasp. I looked at my hands. The flesh had holes in it. They weren’t bleeding, the burning was too bad to allow that.
“Oh my god, Ace,” Michael said. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”
“Later,” I waved him away. There were still things I could do at the fairground. I moved to the next person. There was a metal spear sticking out of his chest. His eyes were open, but vacant. I closed them and moved to the next. Another child, another dead body.
Four more bodies in different states of destruction. Blood coated me from head to toe. It soaked into my jeans, making them heavy. My black T-shirt clung to me, the outer shirt had been green, but had become a sickly brownish color. Very little of it was my own blood.
I leaned in close to another victim. She gasped as my arm touched her. Gurgling noises emanated from her throat. Blood bubbled out her mouth. Chances were good that she couldn’t be saved, but I shouted for help anyway. A paramedic came to me after a few minutes. He took her vitals and shook his head at me. He moved away. I held her hand and waited. It didn’t take long. Her chest gave one last small heave, her body shuddered, blood oozed out her mouth, running down her check and her face went slack. Using the back of my hands, I closed her eyes and moved on.
The rescuers worked tirelessly. They moved around the field with swiftness, shouting for help when they found someone alive. Their faces held concern. I had checked at least fifty people, only seven had been alive. There were still bodies strewn about. Every once in a while, some piece of equipment would suffer a failure and we’d have to dash away from another falling carnival ride.
Firemen worked to help people and put out fires. Survivors wandered around, their eyes almost as vacant as those of the dead. Occasionally, one would collapse and a rescuer would run over. Most of them were in shock and had years of therapy ahead of them. The rescuers would fair only slightly better.
The sheer number of dead was overwhelming. The cries were dying down though. The injured were being rushed to hospitals in anything that could hold them. A helicopter had landed a few minutes earlier, not one from a hospital, but from the National Guard. One of the large, twin rotator machines. They’d loaded four stretchers into it. It was taking off again and another was preparing to land.
My hands were numb. My leg hurt, but not as much as it should have. The burns were overshadowing it.
“Your turn,” Gabriel came up to me. The upper torso of a child lay on the ground in front of me. The bottom was on the other side of a piece of sheet metal. It had gone right through the tiny body, the cut was so clean, it almost didn’t look real.
“There are still people I can help,” I told my boss.
“Marshal, that’s an order. You’re burned, you’ve been stabbed, you’re covered in blood, you need to go get your wounds cleaned and dressed before they become infected and you lose your hands or a leg.” Gabriel took hold of my shoulder and spun me around to look at him. “Xavier’s in surgery. You and Lucas are both going.”
I looked at my hands. They were bad, but they could have been worse. I held them up to him.
“I can still use them,” I pointed out.
“But your back is almost as bad, Ace.”
“I didn’t get burned,” I stopped, remembering the searing heat.
“Your shirts have melted to your skin. Lucas too. You both have to go, now. I should have made you go earlier. They are going to take you by chopper.”
“Fill it with the more injured first,” I told him.
“You qualify as among those in need of immediate medical attention with life threatening injuries, Ace. Lucas has already collapsed. They took him away a couple of seconds ago.”
“Ok,” I said. Gabriel pointed to the landing helicopter. “Go now, Cain, we’ll finish up and met you there.”
I didn’t wait for him to tell me again. My feet moved without input from my brain. My shirt wasn’t sticking to me because of blood and sweat, it had melted to my body. My hair was probably gone then.
“Marshal Cain?” A paramedic said to me as I neared the helicopter.
“Yes,” I told him.
“We’ve got room for you, but only just,” he looked at me. “You might be uncomfortable with that burn on your back.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told him. With help, I got into the flying contraption. Helicopters weren’t my favorite thing. I could fly in a plane, but helicopters freaked me out a bit. Better to think about that than my back. I wanted to look and yet, I didn’t. If I couldn’t feel it, it was because either I was numb from being a sociopath or it had burnt the nerve endings. The first was far less likely.
As we began to ascend, a flash caught my attention. It wasn’t at the fair, it was near a house. Muzzle flash I realized. My brain went into panic. I started shouting and pointing. Someone finally gave me a headset. I told them I had seen muzzle flash and that someone needed to respond. No one seemed to take me seriously and I was helplessly trapped inside a helicopter with four people on stretchers, three sitting up, but wounded like me, two medics and two national guardsman.