A Dark and Stormy Night

My old man mind can't remember where I'd heard it before, oh not the phrase itself everyone's heard that! I'd heard that it was a kind of writer's joke. That phrase, 'it was a dark and stormy night'. It's a juvenile way newbie writers used thousands of times to try and build tension or suspense at the first part of a book or story. Much like the rusty hinges squeaking as the monster opens the old wooden door. The stair treads that creak under the footsteps of the madman with a butcher knife as his shadow climbs the stairs to the children's room. All old clichés' of imagery, but old men like me like clichés' they're friendly and comfortable. Having been around the block a time or two, like me.

I guess I'm talking with my tongue in my cheek. I don't think that this story will need any help with tension, suspense, or action. But a title didn't jump up and hit me on my pointy little head. The first scene played out in my mind at night, in an open field, during bad weather. So the phrase fit the scene, and what the hell we all need a joke every now and then, even a very small one. So here comes thousands and one.

Enjoy. A Dark and...

Stormy night, NO SHIT it's a dark and stormy night and what the fuck am I doing out in it barefoot and running my ass off?

Kelly that's why, lying on my bed minding my own business when her text pongs my phone. HELP, (all caps, that's yelling) farmer Ted's pond. HELP!! (That means really yelling, screaming even.) So I was off my bed at a dead run not even thinking of putting on shoes or a jacket. Something in my mind was screaming run, run, run. I'm the kind of guy that listens to hunches, so I'm listening and running my ass off.

As I burst out through the back door I thought I heard something. But the bang of the screen door slamming shut killed any thought of that. I could feel the slick of the wet grass on my feet as my toes dug in at each lunge, each pump of my arms. The tiny bit of moonlight gleamed off the fence post that was in front of me. The thought of a flashlight was buried by run, run, run. My body knew better than I did, as I felt myself soar over the three strand barbed wire that was the barrier between my backyard and farmer Ted's ten acre field, with a small pond at the far end.

An untilled open field was nothing to be running full tilt through even with boots on. Barefoot, at night, was like playing Russian roulette with five bullets in the gun. It was just a matter of time before a broken bottle, an old can, a buried root, or just tough brush was going to find my bare feet. Cut them wide open or just trip me into a nose plowing furrow in hard pack. But my mind was still hammering, pushing run, run, run...

What little moon light there was I was using to scan the pond area. Nothing! Not damn thing, and that should have settled my mind a little, but it just made me run harder. Listening for sounds, all I could hear was the gasp of my breath and the blood in my ears.

I was almost to the pond when I screamed out...

"KELLY."

When I got no reply I started circling to the left. Fast as I could run while trying to look in every direction, all at the same time. Passed a bush then round a tree...

I tripped...

Fell face first onto my elbows and knees... Staring into Kelly's bare belly, at least it had the same red navel stud as hers, so I assumed it was Kelly. Then the smell hit me...just like it did at deer hunting camp. That sickly sweet copper smell of...BLOOD, lots of blood... as I looked up toward Kelly's face. The black puddle and bubbles on her bare chest made a horrible sucking sound. I crawled up her body as fast as I could. What I saw next stopped my heart...a spurt of black from her neck that steamed in the night air. I grabbed the handkerchief from my back pocket and slapped it on that spurt before it could spurt again.

My mind was trying to remember if that handkerchief was dirty or not, then I realized that it didn't matter. It was the best and fastest thing that I had; the rest was just tee, boxers and jeans. But I had spurt clamped off, now I needed...

My body knew better than I did again, my shoulders hunched up and my head dropped as something club like whizzed through my hair then slammed into the back of my shoulder. My body had already started to pivot, a hard fast shoulder rotation and a straight arm mid strike, found gold. Hit cock and balls, and a squeal that started way up high. Counter-rotation of the shoulders and the following high strike was too slow. It just bounced off the top of his head. But I was already rising fast and my knee was streaking for a mid strike to his guts. But his body was bent over and falling backwards too fast, so instead of his waist. The first thing my knee felt was his front teeth and his jawbone break as my knee slid up through his nose and bounced his forehead back. The squeal switched off in mid note and his body limply dropped. Standing over him my first two gasps of air gave me shit, piss, and blood...blood...Kelly!

Spinning and falling fast, hands, fingers grasping, hunting around her neck and found my handkerchief, immediately clamping it on spurt. The sound from her chest made me remember it too. So one handed I started peeling my tee shirt off of my head. I'd barely cleared my face when I saw the tiny light buried deep in the grass...KELLY'S PHONE!

My hand streaked to it, thumbed it off, hit 0 then call. YES, had dial tone, thumbed it off dialed 911 and pressed call.

"911 how may I..."

"STOP...LISTEN, a girl's been stabbed twice, neck and chest. Lots of blood, air sounds in chest wound. Lots of blood everywhere, get here fast or she's going to die. 1641 Rawlings lane, she's in the field behind that address. In the back by the pond, farmer Ted's pond. For god's sakes hurry, follow this cell signal." And I dropped the phone without hitting 'end call'.

Went back to trying to rip pieces out of my tee and get them onto Kelly's chest wound. One handed and teeth, ripping and tearing, trying to get big pieces. My stupid mind's making bets with itself as to which responder will get here first. My bet was Rural Station 12, at six miles down the road. But I was trying to remember if they had EMT's based there. A police cruiser might beat them, but he'd have to be already on the move and close.

Saint Clair Memorial Hospital ambulance was never in the running, they would be last. STUPID...stupid boy, betting on make believe races while trying to hold Kelly's lifeblood in her body with your hands. Stupid, stupid boy, keep even pressure on them. Keep your foot on shithead's leg, if he even twitches, fuck him up. OH...Kelly don't die on me now. I should let up on her neck a tiny bit; she needs a little blood flow up to her brain. Keep even pressure on her chest, need to keep that clean, slow the bleeding but keep it clean.

YES, I was right. A red, white and silver box van is screaming up the road. All lights ablaze, siren at full wail, maybe the most beautiful sight I'm ever seen. Something slips inside me and the night stars spangle in blurs and rays all around them. My vision blurs and I feel the wet in my eyes, but I won't cry. Fuckin'A right I won't cry.

I hear the rattle of the big box van as it bounces over the cattle guard and into the field. The two spotlights and all the top mounted running lights blaze into glory. I feel myself glow as one of the lights highlights' my waving arm. A short horn toot sends me back to putting pressure on Kelly's bare chest.

I watch as one guy gets out of the truck, and with a big flashlight starts running the field ahead of the truck, they'll want to get as close to Kelly as they can. Yet they can't risk dropping the truck into an irrigation ditch or something. The guy's panting as he gets to me.

"We're here kid, what'ch got?" As he slid up to me on his knees.

"Kelly here with a stab wound to her neck and chest. Neck wound spurts, chest wound with air sounds. I don't know about shithead here behind me. I punched him in the nuts and accidentally kneed him in the face and he hasn't made a peep since then. He snuck up behind me and was trying to brain me with some kind of club, while I was trying to stop Kelly's bleeding."

"Just keep pressure on it kid. Toss me the med bag Joe, and check vitals on the other kid."

I felt the big bag sail over my head. I turned my head to watch 'Joe', saw him put two fingers to the neck of shithead. Then he looks over to his partner, with tight compressed lips and the slow shake of his head back and forth. Again the stars spangled and rays highlighted them, wet on my cheeks.

"OK Terry, where do you want me?"

A very blurry faced 'Terry' is looking at me; I know that he can see the wet shine on my cheeks. I hear the snap of him putting on med gloves. Barely a second later have I heard the same sound from behind me.

"Here take the kid's place."

As I rock back to let Joe in, my hand slips off the handkerchief, and it falls down. Spurt makes his appearance...

"OH shit...fuck. Joe we have a nicked artery here. I'm grabbing a heavy compress pad; get it on fast...here!"

I hear the rip of paper and Terry slams a thick pad into Joe's hand.

"I'm calling for permission Joe, concur?"

"Yes concur, you have too. She's lost a lot of blood Terry."

Terry reaches up to his shoulder and keys a MIC that I hadn't noticed before.

"Saint Clair ER...Saint Clair ER...this is EMT 6 Truck 4 need immediate permission." He waits barely ten seconds.

"Saint Clair ER...Saint Clair ER...this is EMT 6 Truck 4 need immediate permission."

"Go EMT 6. This is Saint Clair ER."

"Need immediate permission for IV plasma and saline. Female patient with stab wounds in upper chest and neck. Neck wound appears to have nicked the Carotid Artery with visible spurts. She's lost a lot of blood, I don't think that she could make transport unless we get some fluid back in her. Over."

"Permission granted EMT 6. Be advised that Saint Clair bus already en'route."

"Yeah I heard, Saint Clair bus already en'route. I just don't think she's going to make it that long if we don't get some fluid into her fast. Over."

"Permission given EMT 6...you might try double IV, are both her arms clear?"

"Affirmative ER, we'll try that. EMT 6 clear."

Three hands flew into the big med bag. These guys are fast, but it looked like a job for six hands not three. I knew that I didn't know what they wanted out of that big bag, but I could hold a pad.

"Hey guys, I could hold the pad and free up Joe's hand. I can't help you do your stuff, but I can hold the pad?"

"It's pretty tight in here kid..."

I spun around and got my body aligned with Kelly's, head to head and feet out. Flopped down on my belly and reached around her head to Joe's hand and stopped, not touching. This way I'd be away from Kelly's sides and as low as possible.

"Uh...yeah, that looks good kid. Joe let him take over on the pressure pad and that'll let us get these IV's in twice as fast."

I split my fingers and slid them in between Joe's as his pulled away, eased in pressure as Joe lifted his hand away. Then Joe and Terry really started flying, it was like a simultaneous dance of a pair. Two needles into Kelly's arms, right and left almost together in motion. Blood pulled back into both syringes.

Tape over the needles in her arms, another piece of tape wrapped around and laid over. Then a clear square of adhesive is put over it all. The syringes inside the IV needles pushed the blood back in, then were pulled out. More packaging was ripped open, two short pieces of tubing with a needle on one end. A cap on the other and a thumb wheel valve below that, a small Y in the tubing with a rubber cap completed this piece.

The needles were stuck into the caps of the IV needles. More packaging ripping and two syringes of clear fluid were pulled out and uncapped. Held upright two squirts of clear fluid shot into the air. Both syringes push fluid into the short tube through the little y-joint. As It fills the wheel valve is opened just slightly until fluid comes out, then the valve was pinched off. The rest of fluid is pushed into the tube.

Some more paper being ripped and torn apart. Two bags of clear fluid quickly have two longer hoses attached; both hoses are Y's with a single hose leading out. When the bags attached to the hoses and valve is opened to let fluid flow through each hose. Fluid out the end gets its valve shut. Fluid out the y gets its valve shut. The Output end is screwed in the short hose on Kelly's IV, then bag valve is opened letting fluid into Kelly's IV.

Terry hands his bag to Joe, and rips paper off another bag, and pulls a couple of clip ties from the big bag. Screwing this bag onto Joe's set up he then runs one clip tie through the top holder on each of those two bags. Then he opens the valve for that bag too, doing the same on his side. Now Kelly's got four bags running into her arms.

Terry runs back toward their truck, comes back with two long rods with loops in one end. They're both jammed into the ground by Kelly's head and the bags are hung from the loops. As Terry's diving back into his big bag, I hear the cattle guard again and a quick peek up shows a black and white bouncing up the field.

I'm watching it as it's speeding through the field, raising all kinds of dust and grasses. The thought slides through my mind, 'glad we got Kelly's wounds covered.' I don't like the look of the black and white as it slides to a stop about 30 feet from us. My mind's tinging some bad thoughts and warnings. But I tamp them down, 'these are the police, they're the good guys.'

Two officers bail out of the patrol car. A big, tall, younger guy out of the passenger side and an older heavy set guy seconds after from the driver's side. The young guy's up quick to help, but the older guy is approaching slower, and I don't like the way his hand is resting on top of his pistol. What's he thinking, one of the EMT's going to get up and attack him with a needle? But I shake myself and think that it must be habit and procedure going into an unknown scene. 'Scene' I must be watching too much TV.

The young guy's up quick and he must know the EMT's.

"Hey Terry, what do you need me to help with?"

"Jesus Christ Glen, can't you guys kick up anymore dust. Better go with procedure and take the kid's place. Arterial neck wound being held with heavy compress pad. Kid had the right idea, down low and in line with her body stays out of our way."

I hear the snap of exam gloves being put on as the cop kneels down by me. Lying on his side with his body right up against mine, with his hand lying on top of mine.

"OK kid, let off easy and I'll take it." In a low whisper. "Damn sorry Terry, I tried to tell him to slow down. But you know him; he won't listen to anyone and knows more than all of us put together, in his own mind anyway. "

I start pulling my fingers off as his reach through mine to take up the pressure on the pad. As his start pushing on the pad I lift mine clear, and then roll away from him. He rolls onto his belly right into my spot. I roll a couple of more times then pull up to my knees and sit back onto my heels.

I'm surprised to find myself almost against the older officer's legs. Even more surprised to find him holding his hand out as if to fend me away from him. Even more to see his other hand not just resting on his gun. But actually gripped and ready to draw, finger on the trigger and everything.

I freeze, lock up all my muscles and just stop.

"You just stop right there kid, don't you move again!"

There's no way I'm even breathing here. This guy is ready to shoot someone! All there is here is two cops, two EMT's and me, so guess who'd get shot? The guy sitting here in a pair of jeans with blood all over him!

"Who's the head EMT here?"

"I am, Officer Spalding sir. Terry Jeffers, EMT 6 truck 4."

"What's the situation here Jeffers?"

Well I guess that lets me know whose large and in charge, Officer Spalding. Officially and officiously both, he'll get the sitrep from the troops. Keep the suspect under guard, hopefully before the victim dies. Let the troops assist the victim; he'll get the scene squared away and secured.

I know I'm sounding smart ass'd here in my own head. But while he's getting everything officiously squared away, both EMT's and the other officer are paying attention to him. AND Kelly's still bleeding...waiting for him...and he's never even looked at shithead.

"We got 911 call at 9:47pm, Joe knew of the address and the field. So our response time was fast. Upon entering the field we turned on all spots and flood lights. This young man was waving his arm, so we proceeded to his location. Found him holding compresses on this female victim, neck and chest. Her blouse showed signs of being tore and cut off..."

"No opinions EMT 6 just the medical facts."

Oh shit, officious and a hard ass too. Officer Spalding is a jewel, a real fuckin' jewel. But I don't even twitch, I don't want to get shot and they need to work on Kelly.

"As I approached I observed two prone individuals and one individual holding compress on the female, victim number one. I directed Joe to pass me our kit bag and to check the vitals on male, victim number two. Joe pronounced him DOA. So we directed all our attention to victim number one."

"I assessed her wounds and found a stab wound in the upper left quadrant of her chest. As Joe switch places with this young man. The pad he was holding slipped off and we found arterial spray from a nicked Carotid artery. Both of us concurred that victim one needed immediate IV plasma and saline. We contacted Saint Clair emergency for permission to start IV fluids."

"Upon obtaining permission from Saint Clair ER we started dual IV's on victim one. We'd just finished when yourself and Officer Glenn Ridge arrived. Now with your permission I'd like to get back to our patient."

"Yeah, go ahead I've got all I need from you guys."

Officer Spalding finally steps over to look at shithead. When he dropped from my mid strike shithead fell onto his side, and the sweat jacket hood covered his face. No one except Joe had seen his face yet. Officer Spalding reached down and lifted that hood enough to look, and from my location I could see too.

"HOLY SHIT, that's Jimmy Hansen! Well I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the little pervert."

The words fell out of my mouth in shock, and way before my brain started to process this. I'd killed a guy that I knew, a guy that went to our school. A guy that had a major hard-on for Kelly... The guy that whispered something in Kelly's ear. That caused her to deck him in the school hallway today at lunch time. The guy that two other girls and Kelly went to Principal Lane and complained about today. Yeah, Principal Lane I can just hear him now, 'well girls you know that boys will be boys'.

Officer Spalding spun to face me...a look of pure demonic hatred on his face.

That started things clicking in my brain faster than a machine gun. Hansen, Lane, Thorn, and Spalding are all clan families in our county. Clan families are what most people around here call them. Because they're like the backwoods clans down in the Appalachian hill country.

Hatfield's and the McCoy's, hillbilly's and rednecks, dueling banjos and all manner of things like that. Blood is thicker than water, family comes first, eye for an eye, us against the world are all things that come first to them, and those are part of their code, even before right and wrong.

With Great Grandma Lane as matriarch, and Papa Spalding, Chief of Police, as muscle. Judge Thorn and Judge Lane they ran the hill clans, and the hill clans ran a large portion of the county. They had a little kingdom set up here, but it had started to come apart when Papa Spalding lost the election for Chief of Police.