Igniting Ash

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Authors: M.A. Stacie
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knife was incomprehensible to her. It hurt more because Gabe had obviously gone back to where he came from only to be attacked again. She’d stupidly hoped the first incident that caused him to visit the shelter had been an isolated one. Her naivety astounded even herself at times. Even seeing the hurt people caused one another on a daily basis didn’t take away the slightly rose-tinted sheen with which she saw the world. She truly thought she could make a difference.
    The copper tang of Gabe’s blood began to fade as Jack cleaned the worse of his cuts. The slash across his eyebrow had reopened, and he now sported a matching one on his lower lip. The boy had been pummelled to within an inch of his life.
    She checked her watch, stroking Gabe’s hot cheek as she wondered how long it would take for the medical attention to arrive. Bolt stood in the doorway his expression grave while he made sure the other teenagers in the shelter stayed in the day room.
    Gabe’s eye lids fluttered as the faint sound of an ambulance siren filtered into the office. Exhaling a small sigh of relief, Emma shot Jack a quick glance, noting the expression on his face was no different from her current state of mind. He was worried.
    “Gabe, the paramedics have come to help. Can you hear me? Do you understand they’re going to take you to hospital?”
    “No,” came a low, slurred response. He tried raising his hand, though he lifted nothing more than his index finger. Sympathy swamped her, an intense need to hold him and never let go.
    “I’ll go with you. We can’t fix those cuts here. You need more attention.”
    One eye opened, the white now terribly bloodshot. Emma leaned closer, seeing his lips move and trying to decipher what he was whispering. The words were sluggish, making very little sense to her. She moved closer still, gurgling filling her ears, and as she pulled away blood bubbled from Gabe’s mouth.
    Emma whimpered. Jack cursed. She grew dizzy, feeling completely powerless. A blur of movement had her reeling back. The paramedics pushed into the room, demanding to know details of Gabe’s condition and whether anyone knew what had happened to him. Luckily, Jack was clear-headed, able to tell them everything he knew and whatever Emma had relayed to him.
    Her head swam, waves of nausea hitting her. She was thankful Jack could give the men the details—not that any of them knew very much. She tried to reach out and take Gabe’s hand; she was pushed away by another paramedic as he wheeled in a stretcher. They placed an oxygen mask over his face and began cutting along the sleeve of his shirt.
    “Do you know his surname? Date of birth?”
    Emma stammered, eventually spitting out, “Dearing. His surname is Dearing. He finally confided in me. I could give you the date of birth he gave us, but I doubt that’s the truth. I don’t know anything else.”
    “Ask around,” the paramedic demanded, starting to push the stretcher from the room. “Maybe one of the kids knows a bit more. We’ll need whatever info you can get. Just let the receptionist know at the hospital.”
    “I’ll follow you,” she said, quickly. “I want to make sure he’s okay. I promised him he would be. I promised.”
    Stumbling a little because her legs felt like jelly, she retrieved her bag from the hook near the office door. She barely felt, or acknowledged, Jack’s touch, the urge to comfort Gabe was so great.
    “Just let us know how he is. Bolt and I will take care of things here,” Jack said before passing her mobile phone to her.
    She clutched it tightly, walking down the corridor. The sad, scared faces of the other teenagers stared at her. Nikki’s bottom lip quivered as she spoke. “I hope he makes it through, Miss Priss.”
    Emma simply nodded, each step feeling harder to action than the one before. She shivered, the horror of the last half hour settling around her. Her car keys slipped from her fingers, falling to the gravel ground with a

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