Dr. Andrews met the plane at the tarmac with an ambulance.
Meg burst into tears when she saw his haggard face and read his emotions as angry and bitter mixed with heartbroken and beaten. She ran to the only man she’d ever even considered thinking of as father and flung herself into his arms. While the paramedics worked on stabilizing their mother, Evan stood back and looked on.
Everything felt wrong.
Disconnected.
Surreal.
Alik felt ill. His hands were shoved deeply into the pockets of the worn black jeans still stained with his own blood. His mind raced.
Weren’t the good guys supposed to win? Hadn’t they prayed enough? Hadn’t they gone in there with the purest of intentions? Why did Mom have to be shot and nearly killed, probably maimed for life? Why did Gavil have to die? He was just starting to come around, to develop a relationship with Creed as a brother should. Why, God? None of this was supposed to happen. Why did You let it?
Alik bit back tears as he watched the anxious looks on the four paramedics who worked on his mother right there in the back of the ambulance. He glanced over at Evan, so young yet so full of trauma. He watched as Meg held Danny on one hip, her other arm wrapped around Dr. Andrews again. Alik heard the pleading in her voice. He felt it too. But he knew better than to plead. It would get him nowhere. Creed stood beside Meg and Maze sat obediently at their feet.
Dr. Andrews allowed Meg one more embrace before moving away from her and hurrying to see their mother with his red-rimmed eyes.
Sloan was talking to one of the paramedics, giving him background as to the medical attention Margo had already received during the transatlantic flight. Farrow stood away from everyone, her petite, gymnast’s frame was tense, her arms crossed, and the look on her face was far away, disconnected and detached.
Alik wished he could do that too, even if just for a moment. He wished he could shut down and stop replaying everything that happened over the last twenty-four hours, but he couldn’t. Sometimes his “video graphic memory” was a curse.
Danny was squirming in Meg’s arms enough for her to carefully put him on the ground. He wasn’t wearing any shoes. At the Facility, all they had given him was a set of short sleeved hospital pajamas. Of course, no one stopped to worry about dressing him further during their frenzied escape. Now that Danny was on the ground as he had insisted, he reached out to touch Maze’s muzzle with his curious hands.
Meg was deep in conversation with Creed and didn’t seem to notice the little boy inch toward her best friend.
Even with all the things Alik should be thinking about, solving and piecing together, all he could do was watch the innocence of wide-eyed wonder dancing across Danny’s thin face as he touched Maze’s fur for the first time.
To his credit, Maze held very still and let the little boy use his sticky fingers to pat, rub and manipulate the fur on his head ears and back. At one point, the baby poked his fingers into Maze’s mouth to explore and touch his sharp teeth. Alik had to restrain a chuckle at the look on the coyote’s face as Danny tried to pull on his long, pink tongue. Once Maze regained control of his own mouth, he turned to the baby and started licking his hands thoroughly before moving on to the little boy’s face. The ambulance was just starting to shut their doors and flip on their siren when Danny’s laughter gurgled up from his belly and bubbled from his throat.
Everybody stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the little boy who had decided to plop down in the middle of the airport’s tarmac and bask in Maze’s affection. It was the single most beautiful moment Alik could remember where his mom and siblings weren’t involved, and it came from this little boy who had only known fear and torment, but had chosen to make a new friend and enjoy him.
Chapter 21 This Little Light of Mine
Margo awakened from her coma the second day after they’d arrived home and everyone was elated. Her doctors then informed her of her prognosis and though it was bleak from the start, she handled the news with an astoundingly positive attitude.
All Margo had done was nod quietly and look at her hands. Meg had watched her open and close them before looking up into her daughter’s eyes and breathing deeply. “God let me live. He let me keep my mind intact. I can speak and think and, as an added bonus, He gave me my hands. I think myself blessed.” With that she offered a genuine smile, even as silent tears glistened in her eyes.
Everyone was at the hospital for her surgery three days later. Margo was prepared for what would be the last surgical effort to correct the nerve damage done to her spine. The look on her face was peaceful when the nurses wheeled her out of her room, IV running, prepped and ready for the procedure. She was laying on her stomach with a warming blanket draped over her.