Young Writers Society

Chapter 2.2

A/N: Previously, Skylar, Kiersten, Issac, and Darien have retrieved important files from a government building and escaped from the building, but Issac was shot in the side and Darien suffered a head injury. Their goal is to make it safely back to their headquarters across the city. All feedback is appreciated, as always!

"Everyone out of the way! Out of the way! This is a medical emergency!" Kiersten shouted as Darien and Skylar carried Issac through the crowds. Skylar gripped Issac's ankles as tightly as she could, and Darien had his arms looped underneath Issac's armpits. Issac was turning even more pale by the second, and he was only occasionally moving.

The sounds of the city began to fade as people gaped at what was happening; the shouts were quieted as the people grouped together to form hypotheses about these strangers carrying a sick boy. "Why, they're all so young!" a woman close to them exclaimed, and Skylar grimaced. So much for blending in. Despite the crowded space, many of them respectfully made way for the procession and quieted for a moment. The road felt eerie without the familiar screams of children at play, the farmers shouting about their wares, the arguments that filled the entire square. The rambunctiousness faded, and with it, Skylar's familiarity with this city. She felt comfortable when she could disappear, when she could fade into the background of the vibrant city amidst all the people who wanted to take center stage. Now she had been forced into the spotlight, and it made her heart skip a beat as she considered the possibility that someone might recognize them and report them or catch a glimpse of her face.

The three of them kept their faces turned downwards, and Darien even twisted Issac's head so that he wasn't identifiable from a distance. Skylar caught a whiff of lavendar from a nearby peddler who claimed that the lavendar would heal all ailments, waving bottles of lavendar oil in the faces of pedestrians and brandishing boxes of purple lavendar in the direction of anyone who paid him any mind. Even this crazed old farmer couldn't take the attention off Skylar and her group; they all pushed him to the side to continue staring at their procession.

As they dodged people, Skylar glanced around to see if there was anything that could incriminate them and was once again struck by the neat organization of the city. Towards the fringes of the city, tall, boxy apartments stretched several dozens stories into the air, but the center was dominated by hole-in-the-wall restaurants, government offices, and the occassional grocery store, post office, or other indicator that millions of people lived here. Despite the hustle and bustle, everyone had somewhere to be; people in business clothes milled around on break, parents pushed children in strollers or clutched the hand of their older children, school-aged children huddled in gaggles and snapped pictures of the scenery on the palm-sized phones that had become all the rage these days.

They reached one of the four-way intersections that the capital was known for, and Kiersten confidently led them to the write. They weaved through traffic until they reached a less congested part of the city, where Darien swung Issac back onto his shoulders and Skylar stepped behind him to block view of Issac's limp body dangling from Darien's shoulders.

"How far are we?" Darien whispered, his voice strained.

"Not far," Kiersten reassured him. "It's only a few blocks away. Shouldn't you know this?" She flashed a smile at him to show that she was joking.

The joke was lost on Darien. "I'm a bit busy," he snapped, and the smile slipped off Kiersten's face.

"Let me take a turn carrying him." Skylar placed a hand on Darien's shoulder, and he nodded gratefully and helped move Issac to Skylar's back. Issac's arms were completely limp, and he couldn't even hold onto Skylar's waist with his legs, so Skylar clasped his hands in front of her neck and walked hunched over so his feet wouldn't drag. It didn't help that Issac was several inches taller than her, so his toes often touched the ground, but that was the least of their problems. The two of them followed Kiersten, Skylar dutifully bearing his weight the entire way there.

The headquarters of ORWEO were somewhat unremarkable; to the untrained eye, it resembled an abandoned warehouse used in the days before automated machines drastically cut down the workforces and eliminated the need for most of the warehouses in the city. The black building was only two stories high, but it was large enough to hold at least 500 people comfortably. Kiersten pulled a key out of her boot and let the three of them in through a door in the side that no passerby would have ever been able to see; it blended in seamlessly with the rest of the black panels on the side of the building.

As soon as they stepped inside, they were greeted with a smattering of applause from the people in the console room. One of their leaders, an older man nicknamed Grey, clapped Kiersten on the back, but everyone's enthusiasm faded when they saw Issac.

"What happened?"

"Gunshot to the side. He lost a lot of blood and isn't doing too well. We need to get him to the medics immediately."

"You got it." Grey lifted Issac onto his back with ease and took off at a light jog in the direction of the medic's station.

"How did the mission go?" one of the other leaders of the mission questioned them, her blue eyes lighting up.

"It was a relative success, perhaps a little bit closer than we wanted it but we made it out okay, except for Issac." Skylar winced at the thought of Issac's injury. "We have the files you need. There were..." Skylar paused to count in her head. "Seven casualties. On our way out, some of the regular workers must have caught wind that we were there and assaulted us on our way out. They got regular office supplies and attacked us when we went through. Darien got hit pretty badly, you should check that head injury out."

Darien shrugged. "I'm fine." His voice had a bit of an edge to it.

"You know the rules, Darien," someone else spoke up. "Head injuries mean that you need to get cleared by the medics before you go on another mission."

Grumbling, Darien got to his feet and left the room, pushing aside the black curtain that separated this entryway from the rest of the building. The attention shifted to Skylar and Kiersten, who were both waiting there awkwardly.

After a few moments of silence, Kiersten cleared her throat. "I guess I should go see how Issac is doing."

"I'll go with you," Skylar said immediately, and the two of them nodded politely to the rest of the people in the group. The two of them made their way through the rooms, each one sectioned off by black curtains, until they reached the medical wing. Carts with various medical equipment lined the areas, and Issac and Darien were positioned on two of the three beds that they had available. There were only four medics, and all of them were huddled around Issac, all wearing full surgical gear and arguing about the best course of action.

"We need to get the bullet out of him first thing," one of them, Maria, was saying as Kiersten and Skylar entered. "It could cause an infection if we just stitch him up."

"He's losing too much blood," Sydney, another one of the workers who had been there since the start of the organization. "We have to stitch him up first, at least until he's recovered, and then we'll determine if we should open him up again."

"Marie is right," one of the other medics interrupted. "We need to stop wasting time arguing and just stop the bleeding and closely monitor him before he loses too much blood. Who has his file?"

"Right here." The medic's assistant, a young boy of about 14, sprinted into the office and handed a paper file to the medic who was talking. "Sorry it took so long, it wasn't properly alphabetized."

The medic didn't respond but thumbed through the papers until he found what he was looking for. "He's B+. We'll find a donor so we can make sure he has enough blood. Until then, Marie, stitch him up and then make sure that he's comfortable and has enough fluids in his system." The medic turned around and noticed Kiersten and Skylar for the first time.

"What's the prognosis, doc?" Kiersten asked.

"He should survive. It was close, though. You got him here just in time. Even a few more minutes and he could have died from loss of blood. It's quite a nasty wound; I'm not sure why the bleeding didn't stop. We'll have to look into that after we get him taken care of. His recovery time is probably about 2 or 3 weeks, depending on what surgeries we have to do, but he should be back to normal at the end of his recovery time. Might have a good-looking scar there, though."

Skylar breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear. Thanks for everything you've done for him, doc, and tell the rest of your crew that we appreciate it."

"Of course. It's our job." The medic smiled at both of them and then stepped past them to begin looking at Darien's wounds. "I think Maddox wants to talk to you."

"We'll make our way over there. Thanks." Kiersten nodded at him, and Skylar waved her thanks as they detached themselves from the sides of their comrades and proceeded to the main gathering area.