Can love and music transcend death?
There is no sex in this instalment, but I deemed it necessary for the continuation of the story. If you've not yet read the previous two chapters, I suggest you go back and start with chapter one - Songstress, followed by DUO. If you have read the previous two, thank you!
A huge thanks to tool1952 for his great edits, and keeping me straight when I go off on tangents!
This chapter is told entirely from Beth's POV.
Terror couldn't even begin to describe how I felt about the horrific scene in front of me. People were running around, shouting. I heard Billy Blake shouting in drunken defiance: "He got what he deserved, the filthy ol' pig!"
I tuned everything else out. I looked at my precious Joel and felt something break in me.
This beautiful, kind, gentle soul, who was the light of my life, now lay bleeding and battered in my arms. I screamed for help. Joel wasn't speaking, so I cried in his ear, begging him not to leave me. I felt helpless, but I refused to give in to panic, not with the life of my precious love in my hands.
I knew basic first aid, and seeing his battered head, not knowing what other damage these goons had done I knew I couldn't place him the recovery position. But he was coughing up blood and started choking on it. In desperation, I tried clearing out the blood using my scarf to soak it up.
He wasn't breathing anymore so I leaned over him and began blowing air into his mouth while pinching his nose closed. At first, I didn't see his chest rising, so I blew harder. I didn't know if I was causing more damage, but I had to get some air into him or lose him. It worked, I saw his chest rise ever so slightly. The bitter iron taste of his blood filled my mouth, but I wouldn't, I couldn't stop. Blow in, pause, spit out blood, blow in, repeat. 'Please live Joel!'
Suddenly a voice from above me said:
"Ma'am, we're paramedics, let us take over."
Scooting backward, heedless of the gravel biting into my knees, I gladly relinquished Joel to their trained hands.
I recognized them as the team that was assigned to our concerts because of the size of our crowds. The first EMT immediately placed an air mask over Joel's nose and mouth and began squeezing air into him. The other began examining my unconscious soulmate, and terror once again began to crawl through me as she looked at her partner with grave concern saying silently with that look 'This is really bad.'
Calmly she said out loud: "Ribs pushed in toward the chest cavity, likely punctured lung. He's bleeding internally, possibly from the the lung. Airway is partially blocked with blood, we have to intubate to get O2 to his good lung. Right pupil is blown. We need to stabilize him and get him on oxygen now before we can move him. And we need more hands. I'm calling for help."
I was sobbing freely now, feeling helpless, as I watched them work on Joel. I heard April's voice behind me:
"Beth? What's going on? Oh my God is that Joel?! No, no, no, oh fuck, oh God, what happened to him?"
I stood up and flung my arms around April and wept in anguish on her shoulder.
"They tried to kill Joel, they tried to kill him! Oh God April, I can't lose him, I just can't lose him!!"
With April holding me, I gave in to the panic I'd been holding at bay. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand knives. I couldn't face losing my love, my life, the other half of my soul.
I screamed into April's shoulder. I screamed out of fear that Joel was either dying or dead. I screamed in agony because my world was falling apart. I screamed at the injustice of it all.
April hugged me tightly and rubbed my back.
"He's going to be OK honey; I just know it. God didn't bring you two together in such a special way just to tear you apart so soon."
I wished I could have believed her, but she didn't hear the EMT's field assessment. I finally quieted, just sobbing into April. I lifted my head and looked over and saw Billy Blake, Jimmy Lister, and Dewey Brown sitting on the ground, cuffed. They were surrounded by a phalanx of security guards who were there for crowd control for a concert that would never happen now.
I wanted to go over and wipe that drunken smirk off Billy's face. I started in their direction, but April grabbed me and pulled me back.
"No Beth, you'll only make matters worse. They'll get what's coming to them. Leave it alone."
I stood there shivering with impotent rage. Suddenly pushing through the gathering crowd were officers from the Charlotte- Mecklenburg police force.
Assessing the situation as the officer in charge, I recognized Sgt. Vernon Davis from my law courses. He had taught us initial crime scene investigation.
He also recognized me, and seeing my distraught and dishevelled condition, blood on my face and down the front of my blouse, he asked:
"Beth? What happened? Are you all right?"
I said in a trembling voice:
"I'm not injured, this is Joel's blood, but I'm not alright. Billy Blake and the rest of that scum over there tried to kill my boyfriend. They've beaten him nearly to death! Please, Vern, don't let them get away with it!"
"Did you see them do it?" asked Vern.
"No, I just saw Joel on the ground with Billy and Dewey being pulled off by security."
Vern called out to the security team:
"Anyone witness what happened?"
Two of the security guards came forward stating they heard Joel yelling for help and had come running through the back of the stage to witness the beating in progress.
When the police began taking statements, I lost all interest and turned back to the EMTs working on my precious Joel. He had been intubated and a bottle of oxygen was attached to the tube sticking out of his mouth.
Other paramedics had arrived and were working on getting a collar on him and strapping him onto a backboard. I felt sick to my stomach seeing him in this condition, yet helpless to do anything. I wanted so desperately to throw my arms around him and hold him forever. They lifted him up onto the gurney.
"We're taking him to Novant" said one of the EMTs to me. I began walking beside them as they pushed him along.
Novant Health Presbyterian Medical Centre - I knew it well. My father had been a chaplain there for over 30 years.
"I'm riding with you," I said with determination.
"Are you related?" Asked the EMT.
"I'm his fiancée" I lied in desperation.
"Yes, I can attest, I'm her maid of honor." April spoke up.
"Good enough. But I'm warning you, ma'am, his injuries are very serious. I honestly don't know if he'll make it there."
"Then I need to be with him either way" I said as tears began to flow anew.
"Go," April said to me, "I'll meet you there"
The ride to the hospital was terrifying. Twice the EMT had to shock Joel's heart back into rhythm. I heard him calling it into Novant, requesting the full trauma team be activated. I held Joel's hand as often as I could, imploring him to hang on and fight. I knew he probably couldn't hear me, but I needed to do something.
An army of medical personnel was there to greet us. One of the trauma nurses recognized me as the old chaplain's daughter.
"Beth, you OK? You're bleeding. You know him?"