Chapter 2
Sam and Janet hurried as fast as they could away from the devastation wrought by the multiple explosions in the theater. Finally, though, Sam’s leg gave out and, there being no way for Janet to support her, they both collapsed in the street at the mouth of a little alley. Janet was coughing uncontrollably by this point, and Sam knew they had to find shelter. Thankfully, the night was mild, warm even, so they wouldn’t have to worry about freezing, but they also needed to be away from prying eyes, and that would not be so easy.
The fates of Colonel O’Neill and Daniel weighed heavily on Sam’s mind. She hated leaving them behind, but she was in no shape to put up a fight, and Frasier was even worse. They would have to find the guys once they were patched up.
Keeping one hand on Janet’s arm to be sure she was following, Sam half crawled, half scooted them both into the dark alleyway where they collapsed. Janet’s cough seemed to have eased a bit, and she sat up, helping Sam arrange her long limbs into something resembling a comfortable position before sitting down beside the major and beginning to probe her leg with her hands.
“Where does it hurt, Sam? I can’t see a thing.” Frasier was still wheezing badly, but Sam knew she wouldn’t rest until she had done everything she could for her leg.
“Here.” Sam took the doctor’s hand and placed it on the spot where the fire that was burning her entire thigh was originating. Then she gasped and stiffened as Janet’s able fingers began to probe the wound.
“This is pretty deep, Sam, and there’s a large piece of metal lodged inside. I can’t see a damned thing right now or I’d take it out, but I don’t dare without being able to tell if it’s hit an artery. It’s going to have to stay for tonight.” A coughing fit doubled her over and Sam caught her before her head could hit the concrete. She held the smaller woman, stroking her back until the fit passed, then helped her lie down, propping the doctor’s head on her, Sam’s, uninjured leg.
“Okay, Janet, your turn. Where are you hurt?” Sam asked sternly, holding the doctor down when she tried to rise.
Janet succumbed, weakened by the coughing fit. “My ribs, mostly. I think a couple are broken, and it feels like one of them may have nicked a lung.”
“Lovely.” Sam breathed, knowing how dangerous that was. “Anything else?”
Janet was silent for a moment, evidently taking inventory, and when she spoke again, her voice was clipped and clinical. “Possible sprained ankle, and a dislocated shoulder.”
“Nothing else broken, though?”
“I don’t think so.” Janet coughed again, and Sam heard her spitting out what could only have been blood.
“Try to get some sleep. Dawn should only be about three hours away, and then we can figure out what to do.”
“What about you? You’re injured and you’ve lost a lot of blood, Sam. You need to sleep.”
“I will, Doc. Don’t worry.” Sam said, knowing there was no way she was going to be able to stay conscious anyway. She put her head back against the wall, feeling blackness stealing over her, and welcoming it.
Janet awoke with a start several hours later, feeling softness under her instead of the hard concrete she had blacked out on. Opening her eyes slowly, she tried to take in her surroundings, to figure out what was going on. A face appeared in her line of vision, and it swam for a moment until her eyes could focus. Hmm, trouble focusing. she mused, I’ve probably got some kind of head injury on top of the ribs and everything else.
Finally the face grew clear, and Janet could see an older, matronly woman whose eyes looked vaguely familiar.
“Where am I?” the doctor asked, trying to sit up. Pain knifed through her head and ribs, and she fell back with a gasp, closing her eyes.
“Please, healer, you must be still. You are hurt badly, and moving will only make it worse.” the woman said, and abruptly, Janet knew her.
“Ella. You’re Ella, a nurse from the hospital.”
Ella smiled. “You remember me.”
“I remember your voice. You assisted me in several surgeries, but I never saw you without your surgical mask.” Then Janet remembered Sam, and panicked. “Sam! Where’s my friend?” she asked Ella anxiously. “Tall, blonde woman, wearing a blue gown? She had wounds in her leg.”
“And in her arm and head as well.” Ella answered. “She is resting in the next room. I cleaned and bandaged her wounds, but her head injury will take time to heal.”
“I need to see her.” Janet said, trying to sit up again.
Ella pushed her gently down, and the doctor fell back, panting. “Your wounds were perhaps even more serious than hers. You must remain still or your ribs will break again and you could begin to bleed internally.”
Frasier glared at her, but accepted this. “Tell me about Sam.”
“Severe lacerations in her left arm and right thigh. I’ve removed almost all the shrapnel and irrigated…”
“What do you mean ‘almost’ all the shrapnel?” Janet said sharply, hearing the evasiveness in Ella’s voice.
The older woman looked a little anxious. “There is a large chunk of metal still in her leg that I do not dare remove. It punctured the large artery, and…”
“…and if you remove it, she’ll bleed out.” Janet blew out a breath, then winced as the action hitched her injured ribs. “Alright, I might be able to do something about that with the right tools.” Janet stopped as a thought occurred to her. “Ella, where the hell are we? Why aren’t we in a hospital?”
The other woman opened her mouth to answer when they heard a weak voice coming from the next room. “Janet?” Sam was awake.
Janet grabbed the pillow from behind her head and splinted her ribs with her good arm before rolling off the couch and onto the floor, biting back a cry as she did so. “I’m coming Sam.”
Ignoring Ella’s splutterings, Janet maneuvered herself to her feet and almost fell again as her ankle gave way. She lurched unsteadily toward the door to the next room where Sam was lying on a couch much like the one Frasier had just vacated. Janet crossed the room and practically fell to her knees beside Carter, where she stayed, trembling and gasping at the agony racing through her head and ribs. “I’m here, Sam. How are you feeling?”
The major opened her eyes a crack and turned her head toward her friend. “Probably about as good as you look. Where the hell are we?”
“We’re in the home of one of the triage nurses from the hospital where I was working on the plague. Ella was just about to explain to me why we’re here and not at the hospital ourselves.”
Ella glared at her, but saw that the small woman was not about to move from her friends’ side, “I will tell you the story, but only if you lie down first.” She turned to look behind her at two young men who were carrying Janet’s couch into the room. They placed it parallel to Sam’s so they would be able to see each other, then nodded at Ella and left the room.
Ella watched them go. “My sons.” she said. “They can be trusted with what goes on here.”
“Trusted?” Sam asked as Janet crawled over to the couch and accepted Ella’s help to lower herself into it. “Why is trust an issue? Why are we here, and what happened at the theater?”
“I will tell you everything I know, if you will but let me.” Ella said, irritation snapping in her voice.
Sam looked at her calmly for a moment, then said, “Alright, tell us.”