Eros

Chapter 17: Hospitals, Doctors, and a Mystery

"No! What are you doing to him, leave him alone!" All she saw were crowds and crowds of gathering people, their voices droning and babbling and shrilling while she struggled to her feet with the assistance of a few strong hands. What were they doing to him? Watching, prodding, grabbing until she screamed again with a stronger voice. "Eros—leave him alone!"

"Don't worry, I've just phoned the medics, they'll be here in five."

Her head grew lighter and lighter like the strange disconnection of a balloon from a child's hand floating away into the deep of the clear night as sounds blurred into high-pitched cries and she tumbled forward with hands to ears. What was going on?

"Are you hurt? Is Eros your boyfriend, husband? I'll help you to him. Can you walk?"

"I-I don't know what happened, I don't! I saw a bright flash of white." Angie's voice tripped over a sob, shock suffocating her senses—unable to separate fact from fiction; had she imagined it all? "And next thing I knew I was falling and he was gone!" This was a nightmare!

A sharp whistle pierced the babbling of many people and they turned. "Give her room—she's his wife!" He guided her through the parting crowd, and her head swam. Unreal. Their stare didn't bother her. Dreaming. Her mind single to one thing and one thing alone. Eros.

Angie trembled and cried, her tears trailing down her face and into her bodice. Leaving makeup stains no doubt. As soon as his hand on the ground came into view and they cleared a path for her, she collapsed with a loud wail. "Eros!" She had never seen him—being so full of vibrancy, beauty, life—so motionless, frightening, bleak.

She reached quaking hands toward him, fearful of contact. Could he be dead? He lay so still. So very still. A fresh wave of tears blinded her, but she worked fast. Turning him to his back from his side as gently as she could, Angie placed her ear to his chest.

She screamed.

"No heartbeat! He has no heartbeat! Eros! Please . . ."

A tumultuous murmur, laced with shrieks, erupted from the onlookers as they shuffled this way and that. But she was too numb to notice.

"Ma'am, everything will be okay. The medics are here," the same man said.

Angie, with tears fogging her vision, glanced at them man and smiled. His bright aquamarine gaze smiled back, his wide mouth set in a kind line. Thank you, she mouthed before a wave of anxious relief crushed her.

She crumpled on top of Eros, his body too silent for her liking.

"Ma'am?" another voice spoke. It was deep. Calm. Reassuring. "Please, we need to administer to him."

Angie felt gentle hands on her shoulders as they tried to move her way from him, but she fought them off, remembering her mother—a memory so painful, so deep—how else could it not come about with such a reminder? As the child she was the day her mom had died, Angie flailed her arms and twisted away, dropping back down. Please, don't go. "He has no heartbeat. Eros! Don't leave me—please. Help!"

"We are here to help. I apologize—."

"What?" Angie sniffed back her tears, but more still came. Strong arms lifted her from Eros. "No, no. Don't! Eros!" She fought hard against the arms until soon, there were too many to resist. Several men and women in dark uniforms carried her to flat bed with wheels.

"This is for your safety and for the safety of those around us."

But Angie didn't hear. She kept her eyes trained to the spot where several uniformed men and women bowed over her Eros. She saw a gurney slam open and she shrieked. Strong binds pinned her down and then the ambulance truck swallowed her whole, the medics surrounded her as they worked quick with hooking her to all sorts of contraptions she paid no attention to.