didn’t bear thinking about yet.
“Brendan!” Cole cried, looking right and left.
“There.” Ian pointed to a nearby bush and then broke out into a run.
Brendan was pale, his bike helmet still on, but knocked sideways. The vulnerable part of his head had landed on a sharp rock, and dark blood stained the stone. Cole dropped to his knees and clutched the hem of Brendan’s shirt. He fought back tears. Brendan didn’t move, but Cole felt a pulse at the side of his neck.
“Thank God! Brendan? Hey, buddy. It’s Cole. Hey.” He wanted to take him in his arms. “Talk to me.”
“It must have been the curve back there,” Ian said. “Maybe he took it too fast? Went head over heels on the bike and landed here?”
Cole didn’t reply. He didn’t care in that moment what had caused Brendan’s injury. He expected Brendan to blink, focus a little, and maybe say his name.
Brendan’s body was rigid, hands curled oddly. Cole’s initial wave of relief turned to ice. “What’s wrong with him?”
Ian shook his head, his eyes riveted on Brendan’s. “Look at his pupils. They’re blown. I don’t….”
“Should we try to move him? Get him to the car?”
“Jesus, no.”
“But the ambulance will take too long out here,” Cole mumbled, even though he knew Ian was right. He wondered if he looked as white-faced as Ian did. The blood congealing on the lower part of Brendan’s head and neck filled him with terror. But it was nothing compared to what the fear that looking into Brendan’s eyes was doing to Cole… looking into his beautiful eyes and seeing nothing there.
Ian punched the number for emergency and began to talk to the operator.
“Yes, we found a bike rider at the Wakodee Nature Preserve off Lucana Road.”
As Ian spoke, regaining his more normal lawyerlike voice, Cole was too afraid to cradle Brendan’s head in his lap the way he desperately wanted to do, since it was caked with blood, so he stroked Brendan’s shoulders instead. Brendan’s face was empty. His eyelids were swollen and dark.
“You’re going to be okay, Bren. Hear me? You’ll be fine. We’ll get you to the doctor’s.”
A T THE hospital, they took Brendan in at lightning speed. They ran CAT scans and hooked him to an intracranial pressure monitor. Cole stood helplessly, Brendan’s cracked helmet in his hands.
None of it mattered. Although he had worn his helmet, it had failed to fully protect him, and Brendan had hit that rock with enough force to cause major head trauma. If he’d landed only a little to the right or left, he might be in a better situation. Cole worried the reason his body was so tight and oddly arched was due to brain damage.
Nobody would tell them a thing, since they were not family, but from what he could piece together, Brendan had experienced a massive seizure.
Cole listened and picked up a little more as the day wore brutally on. “It’s amazing he didn’t go into cardiac arrest too,” Cole overheard one nurse comment to a second at one point.
“Yeah, he’s stabilized right now, and we’re going to take him into the OR. But I doubt there’s any brain activity. I noted the extent of the damage, the hematomas—”
The nurse abruptly stopped talking as she realized they had an eavesdropping audience, but it didn’t matter anyhow. Cole could no longer hear. A loud buzzing was in his ears. He stared at the leads and IV pumps, trying to breathe. Ian was speaking in a low, soft voice, but Cole could only look at Brendan. He looked normal from the neck down. If he simply stared at Brendan’s chest and torso and legs… none of this was real.
“No. No-no-no-no-no.” Cole rocked back and forth on his heels. “This can’t be happening, not to Brendan. No.”
They wheeled Brendan to surgery, to try to relieve the pressure on his brain, Cole assumed, since nobody was allowed to tell them the facts. Ian stepped closer to him. Their eyes met, and Ian’s gaze mirrored the horror Cole
“Brendan!” Cole cried, looking right and left.
“There.” Ian pointed to a nearby bush and then broke out into a run.
Brendan was pale, his bike helmet still on, but knocked sideways. The vulnerable part of his head had landed on a sharp rock, and dark blood stained the stone. Cole dropped to his knees and clutched the hem of Brendan’s shirt. He fought back tears. Brendan didn’t move, but Cole felt a pulse at the side of his neck.
“Thank God! Brendan? Hey, buddy. It’s Cole. Hey.” He wanted to take him in his arms. “Talk to me.”
“It must have been the curve back there,” Ian said. “Maybe he took it too fast? Went head over heels on the bike and landed here?”
Cole didn’t reply. He didn’t care in that moment what had caused Brendan’s injury. He expected Brendan to blink, focus a little, and maybe say his name.
Brendan’s body was rigid, hands curled oddly. Cole’s initial wave of relief turned to ice. “What’s wrong with him?”
Ian shook his head, his eyes riveted on Brendan’s. “Look at his pupils. They’re blown. I don’t….”
“Should we try to move him? Get him to the car?”
“Jesus, no.”
“But the ambulance will take too long out here,” Cole mumbled, even though he knew Ian was right. He wondered if he looked as white-faced as Ian did. The blood congealing on the lower part of Brendan’s head and neck filled him with terror. But it was nothing compared to what the fear that looking into Brendan’s eyes was doing to Cole… looking into his beautiful eyes and seeing nothing there.
Ian punched the number for emergency and began to talk to the operator.
“Yes, we found a bike rider at the Wakodee Nature Preserve off Lucana Road.”
As Ian spoke, regaining his more normal lawyerlike voice, Cole was too afraid to cradle Brendan’s head in his lap the way he desperately wanted to do, since it was caked with blood, so he stroked Brendan’s shoulders instead. Brendan’s face was empty. His eyelids were swollen and dark.
“You’re going to be okay, Bren. Hear me? You’ll be fine. We’ll get you to the doctor’s.”
A T THE hospital, they took Brendan in at lightning speed. They ran CAT scans and hooked him to an intracranial pressure monitor. Cole stood helplessly, Brendan’s cracked helmet in his hands.
None of it mattered. Although he had worn his helmet, it had failed to fully protect him, and Brendan had hit that rock with enough force to cause major head trauma. If he’d landed only a little to the right or left, he might be in a better situation. Cole worried the reason his body was so tight and oddly arched was due to brain damage.
Nobody would tell them a thing, since they were not family, but from what he could piece together, Brendan had experienced a massive seizure.
Cole listened and picked up a little more as the day wore brutally on. “It’s amazing he didn’t go into cardiac arrest too,” Cole overheard one nurse comment to a second at one point.
“Yeah, he’s stabilized right now, and we’re going to take him into the OR. But I doubt there’s any brain activity. I noted the extent of the damage, the hematomas—”
The nurse abruptly stopped talking as she realized they had an eavesdropping audience, but it didn’t matter anyhow. Cole could no longer hear. A loud buzzing was in his ears. He stared at the leads and IV pumps, trying to breathe. Ian was speaking in a low, soft voice, but Cole could only look at Brendan. He looked normal from the neck down. If he simply stared at Brendan’s chest and torso and legs… none of this was real.
“No. No-no-no-no-no.” Cole rocked back and forth on his heels. “This can’t be happening, not to Brendan. No.”
They wheeled Brendan to surgery, to try to relieve the pressure on his brain, Cole assumed, since nobody was allowed to tell them the facts. Ian stepped closer to him. Their eyes met, and Ian’s gaze mirrored the horror Cole
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