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“Good afternoon,” he says stoically. “I'm just here to get a last set of vitals before transport, and make sure you don't have questions before you sign the last of the paperwork.”
He shuffles around, recording the various readings. More than once I hear him give a thoughtful exclamation, and I have a hard time not following him around to ask if he notices any improvement. That would be too suspicious, so I stay back, packing the last of our few belongings into a duffel bag that Luis picked up yesterday. All that's in there are some clothes, packed around the centrifuge to keep it padded, and a few extra medical supplies.
“What did he say?” I ask once he's gone.
“Nothing much, just had me sign the last of the discharge paperwork. I didn't have any questions that would be considered normal in this situation, so I just signed and thanked him for his service.” Luis looks unsure. “Should I have asked anything specific? I can go get him—”
“No, it's fine. I just noticed that he was making some sounds when he took the vitals and it's driving me crazy not to know.”
Micah comes over and bends his head low, conspiratorially, which I didn't realize we were doing. “What are you two over here whispering about?”
“Lukas thinks the nurse was making sounds when he was taking Bennet's vitals.”
“What kind of sounds?”
“Like, 'hmmm,' and 'huh'.” I'm feeling super silly right about now, but Micah actually takes me seriously, turning on his heel and heading over to Bennet's bed.
He's looking at all the machines, checking readings. Studying one monitor, he points to a series of lines that I think is an EKG.
“See this line here? We'll have to confirm with Dr. Franks, but I'm pretty sure that's a positive sign.”
Look, I am not a guy who gets his hopes up. Quite the opposite, actually. I'd rather plan for the worst and be pleasantly surprised.
But I am definitely staring at that tiny white line on the monitor like it's spelling out “EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY. BENNET WILL LIVE AND YOU'LL ALL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!”
Half an hour before it's time to go, Dr. Franks joins us, a small travel bag in hand. Micah pulls him over to examine the screens and Bennet's vitals.
“His systolic BP readings look to have stabilized, and check this EKG.”
Six overhears the conversation. “Is that good?”
“It could be promising, yes, but it's not enough change to get excited about. The best we can hope for right now is him surviving the trip.”
My chest hurts, like there's a strain against the size of the breaths I'm taking.
“Chopper's here,” Jackson announces, sitting in front of the window in a wheelchair. He didn't want anyone to lift or move him in case he accidentally gives away the secret of his miraculously healed leg. “Is it just me, or is this one bigger?”
Luis peers out the window, where the helicopter is closing in on the building in the late evening twilight. “He probably was able to book us a ride that actually has enough seats for all of us. The first one was a last-minute emergency call.”
Makes sense. A bigger helicopter will hopefully feel more secure, especially with everyone buckled in properly. I wasn't a fan of the last ride, but I was also pretty preoccupied.
Before we know it, there's a flurry of activity as Levi and some other staff members get Bennet moved to a smaller transport gurney. Then we're all moving through the building to the rooftop elevator.
The wind is intense when the doors open, the sound of the rotors deafening. My brain pauses for a few minutes, the sounds of the helicopter bringing back the feelings of that night, but Micah grabs my hand and pulls me onto the roof.
Jackson is the first to get loaded up. No one seems to notice, or at least no one reacts, when he easily transfers himself from the wheelchair to the seat. He's wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants to cover up his “bandages.”
The rest of us climb aboard and fasten the five-point seat belts before they push in and lock the gurney down. They add a bunch of extra straps to keep him still.
The entire flight home, none of us attempt to talk or even look up from the vitals monitor. I'm so focused on it, in fact, that I'm surprised when we get the signal that we're about to land.
He made it this far.
Jackson
I don't even bother trying to feign injury when we get out of the helicopter and make our way through the hospital. The flight nurse looks at me oddly for a moment, but shrugs it off as if she maybe had her facts wrong.
We leave the hospital through the same back entrance we used weeks ago. We aren't running and hiding like we did before, but we have Bennet's face covered so no one recognizes him. Not that they probably would even if they could see his face, the intubation tube and the way his eyes are taped shut take away from his recognizable, handsome features.
