World Turned Upside Down

Panic!

"Emergency services are now reporting at least 42 people confirmed dead, the toll is expected to rise much higher. The police and the army are still working to free the 24 hostages inside the stadium. The attacker's identity is yet to be confirmed but it is suspected to be a 21-year old Muslim man who was born here in London, but became radicalised during a term in prison for petty theft in early 2016." The young girl stared down at her banner that she held close to her chest. Fuck those terrorists. Fuck them for preaching hate like this to impressionable people. Fuck them for using the prison system to spread their horrible, horrible beliefs. Fuck them for hurting Chris Martin! Coward couldn't even let himself stick around to face what he'd done. Fuck him!

I have to go see him.

A pager beeped in her handbag.

Perfect timing. She went into the drawer and took out her scrubs. I can ask about him while I'm there, she thought as she changed into the scrubs. She was so quick to put on her shoes and hurry out the door that she nearly forgot to pick up the room key on her way out.

The hospital was not far from her hotel, and she arrived in a matter of minutes. The car park was jammed full. She saw a black Peugeot splayed across two spaces. Why do people do that? She shook her head in dismay as she sloped over to her reserved space. I know the car park's expensive but it's still a stupid move. Perhaps if she knew it belonged to Will Champion, she may have held a different view of the whole thing. In any case, she had no time to ponder the issue any longer. She took the key out of the ignition and got out of her car, and headed inside the hospital. As she walked down the corridor a doctor motioned for her to go over.

"Good evening, Nurse King."

"Evening, Dr Taylor."

"Chris will be out of Theatre shortly. I suggest you have a read through his notes while you wait. His team will brief you on the next steps once he's out." He smiled briefly at her. "That idol of yours sure is a fighter, Shona. He's very, very fortunate to still be alive right now."

"Well, he said to never give up..."

"As you keep saying every day. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. I'm sure you'll do a great job." Of course I will. It's Chris Martin. He's going to get the royalty treatment if I have anything to do with it.

Shona went into a filing cabinet and searched through it. She took out a folder labelled 'MARTIN', and took it with her to the staff room. It looked to be pretty thick. They must have had to write quite a lot down... She started at the back and flicked through the pages backwards until she reached a page with the current date at the top. From the top of that first page, she began to read. Underneath the date was a long and detailed form. 'NAME: MARTIN, CHRIS. DOB: 03/02/1977. AGE: 39.' Beyond the basics lay all the horrific details. 'INCIDENT: EXPLOSION, EXPOSURE TO BLAST. DETAILS:'. I can't. It's gonna be too horrible. I have to. I can't. I have to. Shona braced herself for what was to follow. 'DETAILS: PULSE 56, SAT 98%. BP 102/72. RATE OF RESPIRATION 11p/m. TRAUMA TO THE HEAD. PATIENT IS V, GCS 10 (E4, V2, M4). SUSPECTED FRACTURE OF LEFT LEG, FRACTURE IN RIGHT LEG. BULLET WOUND TO RIGHT LEG (ENTRY ONLY).' Shona gasped in horror. My poor Chris! 'FRACTURE IN RIGHT ARM, DISLOCATION OF RIGHT SHOULDER. SUSPECTED UPPER SPINAL INJURY.' No. That can't be right. Read it again. 'SUSPECTED UPPER SPINAL INJURY.' Spinal injury! What if he ends up paralysed? He would never play his music ever again! No, he can't! They have to fix him, they just have to!

The door opened. Is it what I think it is?

"Shona?" She looked back over her shoulder. Dr Taylor stood just inside the doorframe. "Chris' team are ready for you. Head over to Intensive Care and they'll let you know what you need to do." Intensive Care? What will they tell me about the state he's in? Oh Chris... My poor, poor, Chris!