Shifting Through The Ashes




"I don't think you'll need one, man," he whispers.

It doesn't sound like that Carter believes him. If he is a doctor, then can he tell if Benton is lying to him? Is the surgeon trying to protect him? I don't know anything about medicine, but it sounds pretty horrible, so bad that Carter doesn't want him to perform the procedure.

"What if...if..." Carter's sentence is broken off; the older doctor tries to stop any further speculation

I close my eyes to exclude these images; their voices fill my mind. I hear the quiet reassurances and I desperately try to shove them aside. I can't escape from them and at the last pentacle when I think I can't bear hearing it anymore, the sounds stop. I open my eyes hesitantly, and peer at the figures in front of me.

The surgeon is resting his head on top of Carter's and I can barely make out the young man's whisper

"I'm...slipping...into..." Carter doesn't finish his sentence.

The older doctor lifts his head and stares at his companion. The younger man is unresponsive. I stare at him; my eyes feel like they are going to pop out of my head from straining them to see what is going on.

Benton squeezes the other doctor's shoulders and he remains very still. He pinches his earlobe, "Carter? Carter, come on man, don't do this!"

The black man's voice is desperate as he continues to try to make his friend react, but no amount of yelling or prodding seems to garner a reaction.

"Damn it, Carter, wake up! I said wake the hell up!" Benton yells and shouts, and nothing happens. He sits there, unwavering, unable to comprehend his powerlessness in this situation. He bites his bottom lip and stares at the pole that is holding his friend hostage to the ground.

"I told him that it was too risky to come down here, that we should have waited till the rescue team arrived. He was on his way to the El train and saw me arriving. I can't even remember what he wanted to ask me when we heard the cries for help from the construction crew."

He paused and simply laughed as if recalling something humorous, or...perhaps a moment of pride?

"He argued with one of the EMT's who refused to go in because it was too dangerous, he just grabbed his medical bag and went in despite the supervisor's protests. We found one of your co-workers, he was crushed under the rubble."

His voice was so filled with defeat, but he cleared his throat as he continued his tale. He stared at his co-worker most of the time and would look at my direction every so often. Then he would feel the pulse in Carter's neck and check the make shift bandage already stained red. He did anything to preoccupy his mind and his hands as he spoke.

"We found you and he fought so hard to lift that damn wall, but..."

I look at him, hoping he'll understand, "I'm so sorry...I was just visiting the site...then the wall just collapsed...and..."

He doesn't allow me to finish my sentence; his harsh features soften a bit as he talks to me. His voice is soft and remorseful, "This isn't your fault." Benton tries to wipe a strand of hair off of Carter's forehead; it's sticking because of the amount of sweat that is rolling off his fevered skin. "This isn't his fault, he just wanted to help."

Benton doesn't know what to do with himself now, I can tell his leg is bothering him by the way he finches whenever he makes any movements. He stares at me without knowing what to say, I can tell he is not used to being the comforter, or even someone who expresses himself easily. He is a man of action who has to deal with the knowledge that he is helpless, and dependent on fate and things like destiny. The surgeon's posture indicates that he does not enjoy feeling like this and his way of dealing with it is to become angry.

He jerks his head at every noise that is heard above, his impatience at the lack of a rescue effort evident in his almost nervous like twitching. He repeatedly checks on Carter, cursing under his breath and shaking his head in disapproval. I wish I could calm him down, but I can't move at all. My muscles do not want to obey my commands it seems. No wonder he doesn't bother to come check on me, its impossible to get near me with all the rubble in the way. My sad little fate. I'm blocked off from any kind of human contact, but the way my head is situated I can see everything that goes on through a large gap in the debris.

I think I'm about to go mad from the inability to console any of the victims here, when I hear something I never thought I would hear again. It was several voices from above us, a rescue team.

Xxx

Some time passed while every array of noise could be heard. There were shouts, several crashes and clanking noises; many times I thought the whole fragile world was almost upon us. Benton seemed very impatient sighing to himself, breathing heavily, and shouting for the team to hurry up. His voice was harsh and demanding. The surgeon would take time out from his yelling at the emergency team to let Carter know that help was almost here.

Finally light shone through and two people took some very precious time slipping through a mountain of bricks and steel. I think they dug their way through on a side of mine that I can't see.

"Over here!" Benton yells as two EMT workers with hard hats crawl over to his crouched position.

As he barks orders to them, two more crawl in to take care of me. I stare at them for a few moments as they try to pry the entire wall off of me. I ignore what they are doing to me to pay attention to what is going on through my little window in the rubble.

Benton is yelling at them about my condition and vitals, but I ignore them, as I am too intent on what they are doing for Carter. He ignores their attempts to help him and his own injured leg, and he informs them brusquely that he can wait.

"I have a fracture of the tibia I'm sure, but let's get moving on Carter," he growls.

"Okay, sir calm, down," a bald headed man with a beard, tells him.

"I'll calm down when we get him out of here!' Benton shouts at the EMT.

"We'll take care of your friend, now my name is Steve and..."

"I'm Dr. Benton and he's Dr. Carter, now stop placating me and get to work, damn it!" The surgeon screams.

I can't hear some of the things that are said as the two people who are trying to free me talk amongst themselves and begin the tedious process of removing the slab of brick and mortar off of me. For several minutes, I can't tell what is going on and have a hard time hearing over the noise of my own rescue effort.

I drift off for a while, I'm not quite sure the reason, but what brings me back to reality is the heated argument going on. I think the EMTs have fastened a blood pressure cuff on Carter and are trying to get Benton to lie on some kind of backboard. Things are not going well. I can see the object of the conflict; its some kind of saw, but Benton is the one holding it and not any of the emergency team.

"I said, I would saw the damn pole off if you refuse to do it!" The black doctor says between clenched teeth.

The EMTs look very exhausted and frustrated at this confrontation.

"Sir,...Dr. Benton." The bald medical worker says, trying to get his attention.

Benton fixes him with a stare that would burn through steel.

"As I said before, if we cut the pole down it will cause the rest of the ceiling to fall on top of him and the rest of this area. We can't do that, this place has lost all structural integrity."

The surgeon glares at him, "And I said we have no other choice, what you propose will kill him!"

The guy who said his name was Steve speaks up after what appears to have been some kind of examination of Carter. "Look, you do not make the decisions here. We don't have any choice; his BP is down to 75/40. He needs to get to County and the only way without having the rest of this place fall on all of our heads is to pull the pole out and rest it back on the ground. We cut it and then it has no place to go and the roof goes with it."

"No! You pull that and his pressure will plummet, not to mention the amount of damage it will cause!" Benton takes a difficult step towards the beam and the other two block his path. He can't create much of a struggle with his hurt leg and limited space around us.

"We'll put him in MAST trousers to push all the blood from his extremities to his vital organs and help fight the shock" Steve begins to explain.

"I know what they are suppose to do and that's not enough! You pull the beam and he'll bleed out like crazy." The doctor's eyes dart from worker to worker. He flashes his gaze towards me for the briefest of seconds before finishing his barrage.

The bald guy approaches him again, his voice firm, but optimistic. "This accident happened only a few blocks from County, the most time during transport will occur going back through the passage we created. There are several ambulances standing by, he'll arrive in less than a minute to the ER. There is no options here, Dr. Benton, we move and we move now."

The surgeon struggles to accept these words, his strong demeanor vanishes as he steps aside. The rescuers who are removing the wall that has been pressing down on me obscure my view of the procedure to extract the beam out of Carter.

Pain, darkness, voices, these are the only things that register in my frantic mind. Time elapses, movement occurs, there are shouts, sirens, cheers of people, then nothing. I hear only silence, which I think, is strange considering the amount of chaos that must be transpiring around me. Finally after concentrating on the present and on my surroundings, I open my eyes.

I'm in the ER, surrounded my several medical personnel, all with frantic expressions. I search out for two faces that are ingrained in my memory. I see them in the other room and I am very fearful at the fevered pace of the doctors in there. There are all sorts of alarms and shouting going on. To the sideline of all the action, but not aware that he is there and not directing things, is the surgeon.

He is yells every once and a while, but his face betrays the anxiety and fear pumping through his veins. He looks absolutely devastated and I can see why.



Part 4
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