6
Chance
As soon as they brought Hunter to the hospital he was rushed straight to the operating room. After that first one, he needed a second one which lasted clear until dawn. They had to bring him back to life three times. When they brought him in, the doctors were surprised he was even still alive, because he’d lost so much blood.
He is still alive. Barely. He’s in one of the shock rooms, hooked up to a million wires and machines and they only let his mother and father go in for a couple of minutes.
So many MC brothers came to the hospital. Almost everyone was here at one point. Ice and Barbie, Hunter’s uncle and aunt. My father and my mother. Summer and Eden and Harper, who have been sitting alone by the window for most of the night, staring at the fake plant next to it and saying nothing, not even to her parents who sat with her for most of the night. For a time, we took up the entire family room and both the hallways leading to it, until the staff finally had to ask some of us could leave so others would have space to wait too. Now a lot of people are downstairs in the parking lot, waiting for news and it’s just me, Cross and Roxie, Tank, Doc and Ice here.
The cuts on my arms were stitched up at Sanctuary before I got here, along with the slash across my back I didn’t even know I’d gotten. Those stitches burst open when I got here and they had to be redone, and afterwards they decided I lost enough blood to warrant putting me on an IV. But I couldn’t lie still for it. Just couldn’t.
Doc has spent the night assuring us that Hunter is a young, fit man and that he’ll pull through because of it. Melody, the club girl, was interning tonight and she kept us supplied with news as much as she could, but her views were more clinically cold.
When morning came, no one told me to go do my community service. My mother just took one last look at me before she left at dawn and took it on herself to arrange it so I won’t have to go there for a while. That vaguely upset me, because a part of me had been looking forward to seeing Veronica again. Seeing, but not talking to, I guess.
It’s almost noon now. I feel like a zombie. I need sleep, I need rest, but that’s just something I’m peripherally aware of, not something I feel any kind of need to fix. The only thing that would move me now is going after the Riders to kill them all.
I’ve told the story of last night in snippets to anyone who wanted to know it. No one could listen for long, not even Cross. Or maybe especially not him.
He’s regained some of his composure, since I first brought his dying son to Sanctuary, but nowhere near to the level he usually exhibits.
Doc, who’s gone in search of a doctor to speak with, comes through the door, opening it so fast and hard air rushes in with a whoosh. We all leap to our feet and I feel the stitches in my back pulling painfully, possibly tearing again.
Doc looks alarmed, hopefully just at our reaction.
“He’s been stable for the last five hours, but they might need to do another surgery tonight,” he says. “All told, he was pretty lucky. Nothing major was hit, though one of the stab wounds came dangerously close to severing his spinal cord. Within an inch, I was told.”
“But he’s not waking up,” Roxie says in a hoarse voice. Her eyes are blood red, but I haven’t seen her cry. “When will he wake up?”
“He lost a lot of blood,” Doc says softly, which is something we’ve been hearing all night. “That’s one of the biggest problems, and the main reason they are keeping him in a coma. We’ll only know if there are any lasting effects from that once he wakes up. But he’s stable, and he’s breathing on his own, and they managed to stop all the internal bleeding. He’s young. He should pull through.”
Every time he repeats that, Doc sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as the rest of us, and I hate knowing that. I hate knowing that it’s still too early to hope that we didn’t lose Hunter. But not as much as I hate myself for not stopping him from going to that strip club. I had a bad feeling, but even if I hadn’t, we both knew it was a dumb move. Neither of us expected this. What would make the Riders go after Cross’ son? He’s killed so many people for a lot less. What is he even going to do to avenge his son? Probably something unimaginable. And I’ll be right there next to him. I would hate to be a member of the Horned Riders MC right now.
“When are we going after them?” I ask Tank and Cross. “I’m ready now.”
Cross just flashes me a look and it’s the black and hard one. “Soon.”
Tank walks over and puts his hand on my shoulder.
“First we make sure that Hunter is all right, then we’ll make a plan,” he says. “You should go home and get some rest.”
I sit back down on the purple polyester cushion-lined bench I’ve been sitting on for most of the night. “No. I’m only leaving when we go after the Riders. Until then I’ll stay right here.”
No one argues with me.
No one says anything else.
We all know why we’re here.
We’re for a chance to say goodbye to Hunter if worse comes to worst. There is still very little hope that it won’t.