Calamitous (Kaylor)

7

By the time the paramedics arrived, Catastrophe was looking far worse. Her skin had no color to it, except for the bright red of blood that was spattered across her body. Her breathing had developed into rapid, short gasps, punctuated with coughing that painted her lips with red. Her wide eyes had dilated so almost no blue was showing, and her skin felt cold and sweaty.

Lily, who had taken several first-aid courses, had spread her jacket over the girl, mumbling something about shock as Catastrophe continued to shiver. Karlie had barely moved, still holding the blonde's hand gently. Briefly she wondered where the rest of her squad was - had they gone home? Were they assisting the guards in the building? - but her mind always returned quickly to the situation at hand.

I may hate her, but I don't want her dead, was the thought that kept circulating. She was startled from her thoughts by the arrival of the ambulance, and relief washed through her. She didn't think Catastrophe would last much longer without help.

The paramedics raced toward them and immediately got to work. Karlie's view was obstructed, but she still managed to cling to Cat's hand, which offered them both some comfort. Among the chatter she picked up a few words here and there - "compression fractures," "deep puncture wounds and lacerations," "hypovolemic," and "possible pneumothorax" were a few. None of it sounded encouraging.

The paramedics were able to carefully transfer Catastrophe to a stretcher. Karlie was unfortunately forced to drop her hand, but she still hovered nearby anxiously as they lifted her into the ambulance. Should I ask to go with them? she thought. No, that would be weird. Why would I do that? As she argued with herself, the ambulance's sirens suddenly turned on, and the vehicle was soon on its way.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luckily, the hospital was very near the station. Since they were no strangers to being injured on the job, the hospital even had a separate door in the back leading to the station that they typically used. This would come in handy for setting a guard; no matter how badly injured she was, Catastrophe could not be left unsupervised, considering her status as a dangerous criminal.

As soon as she was recovered enough to be moved, she would probably be transferred to one of the high-quality cells at the station. Karlie's department worked often with government matters and collaborated with the FBI, so they were well funded and would be able to hold Catastrophe without much trouble.

These were the things that the commissioner was thinking about when he got the news of Catastrophe's "arrest." Karlie, however, was not thinking about the implications of that night's activities any further than wondering if the blonde woman would survive.

Upon arriving at the hospital, she was unsurprised to learn that Catastrophe was in surgery and would likely be there for many hours. Martha, one of Karlie's favorite nurses who had patched her up many times over the last few years, took pity on her and brought her to an empty waiting room to talk.

"They think she'll pull through," were the first words out of Martha's mouth when Karlie looked like she couldn't hold her questions any longer. "Some crushed ribs, collapsed lungs, a pretty solid concussion...other than that, most of it's superficial."

"Superficial?" Karlie snorted. "She was dripping blood from practically every pore."

"Glass is a bitch," Martha agreed, "but they'll get it out and stitch her up, give her a tetanus shot, and call her good. Unless she somehow comes down with an infection, she'll be fine."

"And those other things you mentioned? The not-superficial ones?"

"They're being taken care of as we speak. The surgeons were saying that we got to her just in time," Martha soothed. Karlie let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair.

"That's good," she said. Martha eyed her curiously for a minute before breaking the silence again.

"You've never shown this much interest in any of the criminals that have been brought in before. What gives?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, Karlie, don't play dumb. The paramedics said they had to work around you holding her hand the entire time at the scene. They almost thought you'd try to jump in the ambulance after her." Martha spoke teasingly, but her eyes were serious and held barely masked curiosity.

"Okay, maybe it was a bit strange," Karlie admitted. "I don't know. I just feel some sort of...connection with her, y'know? We've practically been archenemies for years, and she pushes all of my buttons, but I don't want her dead."

Martha nodded encouragingly. "I understand that. You two have some history, and now's your chance to get to know her better, when neither of you is out to hurt the other. Just remember who she is, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Martha sighed and leaned forward, putting her hand on Karlie's leg comfortingly. "I just mean that she's a devious, vicious killer. And you're not going to be able to change that." Seeing Karlie looking ready to protest, she continued quickly. "Sometimes people don't want to change, Karlie. And even if they do, it's a long, difficult process. She's not going to wake up from surgery and suddenly be your pal. And you can't forget what she's done in the past, because she'll always have the ability to do it again."

"Maybe you're right. But I still want to try," Karlie said.

"And that's admirable. Just be careful, okay?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Arsyn!" The dark-haired woman heard her name yelled over the sound of the helicopter. Frostbyte made her way over to her, clinging to the straps hanging from the ceiling. "Where's Cat?"

Arsyn dropped her head, trying to look as sorrowful as possible before answering. She could see all of the other members of the crew looking toward her, fear and confusion in their eyes. "Cat didn't make it."

The reaction was immediate. Cries of horror filled the air and the volume raised loudly as people began to talk among themselves and ask more questions. Arsyn raised her hand for silence and the noise quickly died down.

"Catastrophe died by the hand of one of the guards. There were too many of them on the fourth floor, but she was certain that we could take them together, just the two of us," she said. "I avenged her death and killed the guard who took her down, and was luckily able to snag this -" she gestured to the briefcase, "- and escape with my life."

The shocked looks of the women around her made her want to soften the blow a little. "We will hold a funeral for her in a few days," she said. "We will celebrate her life. Even if she wasn't who she once was toward the end, she believed in our cause and always did what she thought was best for all of us." There was a solemn silence for a moment, where only the roar of the helicopter blades could be heard.

"So what's in the case?" Mother Chucker suddenly asked. "What did we risk it all for?"

"Oh, this?" Arsyn grinned. "A weapon. A weapon that will make us extremely powerful."