Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Eighty Two

"Wait!" Dane called. "I got something. I think. Barely."

"I can work with barely," Sorella gasped again, and blew another breath. "Damn it, it's coming out of his nose." She pinched it and went again. His lungs inflated with her air, but it was hissing around the knife. She kept breathing for him.

"Got another beat," Dane said after a few seconds. "It's sluggish."

Sorella's head came up. "We have to get that knife out." She filled his lungs again. "I'm gonna need someone to breathe for him."

"I can," Dane offered.

"No! You're keeping the heartbeat. I need you to focus on it. It's crucial. I need someone else."

"I can do it. How?" General Zayn asked and stood up.

The medic working on him looked flustered, but said nothing.

"Keep the nose closed. Keep his throat straight. Cover his mouth with yours and blow until his chest inflates. Keep doing it," Sorella directed. "Nice and easy. Not too quick." She demonstrated once more. "We gotta hope he starts doing it on his own. Very soon."

"Beat," Dane called. "It's dangerously low."

Without further ado, Zayn grabbed Kayde's face with his remaining hand as directed and filled his lungs without hesitation.

"Good," Sorella commended. "Now for the knife. I'm going to have to open him up. Shit." She huffed. "I'm going to have to stitch and repair the actual lung, if that's even possible. Shit fucking hell." By this time, one of the other medics had stepped up. She snapped a command. "Hand me that scalpel. With haste!" Clumsily, the other healer grabbed the cutting blade and placed it in her palm.

"Beat," came Dane's voice. Zayn's lips offered the guardian another taste of air.

A thin cut was made. A deep cut. Right around the blade. Once it was just wide enough, Sorella pulled it and muscle apart right down to the ribs. The knife was imbedded right at the top of his lungs. She saw the tip of it sticking out of the front.

"Beat."

Sorella moved to the guardian's back. She took a deep breath to steady herself and grasped the weapon with both hands. "Hold him still if you can!" she called to whoever would do it. Dane positioned himself where he wrapped one arm around Kayde's waist.

"Beat," came Dane's dutiful call.

With all the strength left in her bones, Sorella yanked the blade straight out. It clattered to the floor under the table. Pulling it out was like pulling a stopper out. Blood vomited from the space like mad, leaking all over the table and the floor. Immediately, she took a towel and covered the back of the wound. It soaked the towel through with red and then her hands.

"Lay him on his back!" Sorella bade. "We need the pressure. He's losing blood too fast!"

As soon as Kayde was on his back, Azabela's grandmother immediately went to work with stitches. Her hands dug down in the space she'd cut. Hell, this wasn't going to be easy with his ribs in the way. Her wrists were turned at a very awkward angle. She got to stitching immediately.

"No beat," Dane called, his voice a cutting edge.

"Are you sure?"

In response, Kayde's form started seizing. He was shaking madly on the table. "Shit! We're losing him! Zayn, make him breathe! Gods, someone hold him still." Sorella clenched her teeth. "Fuck, he's going to die."

"Still no beat," Dane warned. Zayn gave yet another breath.

"Gods damn it, we can't pump his fucking heart for him!" No one paid any mind to the stress cursing. She slammed her hands on the table, suddenly very desperate. "But we're gonna have to try," she said simply, exasperated. "We're just gonna have to try."