The Wicked by LA Banks

Author:LA Banks [Banks, LA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror & Ghost Stories
Published: 2010-05-21T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

The carnage that met Damali’s eyes made her run toward the villa in a flat-out dash. Big Mike was on the ground panting, sweat pouring down his contorted face as he struggled against a huge section of deck-rail wood that had pierced his abdomen like a stake. The overwhelmed nymph flitted anxiously between Mike and Hubert as she furiously tried to heal wounds, not sure of who to tend to first, her loyalties severely divided.

“Medic! Marlene!” Damali shouted, coming to a hard slide next to Mike in the sand. “Berkfield! We’ve got a man down!”

Berkfield struggled to rise from the sand, dazed from the blast, but couldn’t. On a mission to save a life, undaunted, he tried to drag his injured leg with a compound fracture behind him. He yelled out in pain as the broken thigh bone shifted under his skin.

“Okay, okay, stand down,” Damali said quickly, realizing that Berkfield was too weak from his own injuries to help her heal. She gently pressed one hand to Mike’s forehead to siphon away the pain, causing him to groan when she touched her other hand near the gaping wound, and then threw her head back, panting. “Where’s Mar? I need another healer to go in with me,” Damali called out. She opened her eyes and looked down at Mike. “You hang in there with me, Michael Roberts. You hear me, you big ox!”

Inez came through the shattered doors first, screamed, and rushed to kneel beside Damali. “Oh, Jesus, Lord have mercy!”

she said, rock

ing on her knees next to Mike with her arms wrapped around her waist.

“Where is Marlene?” Damali shouted.

“She fell down hard and hit her head on the counter trying to body-shield Sara from a black blast. Marjorie is trying to get her up,” Inez said, choked. “She was unconscious.”

Jose was flat on his back where he’d been blown from the roof. Juanita was hunched over him, patting his face trying to bring him around, while also trying to pick thick panels of glass out of his chest with shaking fingers.

“Don’t move him,” Damali ordered. “He could have injured his spine from the way he fell—I’ll get to him in a minute, after I triage this man who’s bleeding out.”

J.L. was sitting on the sand, his head leaned back against the villa, his eyes closed and clutching his right arm to his side. Krissy ripped her T-shirt and began making a tourniquet and shrieked to Damali as she realized that the limb had been nearly severed from a black lightning strike.

“Damali! He’ll lose his arm!” Krissy screamed, frantically working to stop the bleeding.

“Tie the tourniquet as tight as you can and start working on that man —stat! Focus everything you’ve got to start knitting tissue back together!” Damali hollered across the beach.

The moment Krissy touched J.L., he arched with a wailing sob. His agony set Damali ’s teeth on edge and she watched flickering blue static run down J.L.’s body and terminate where the limb had been disconnected to only hang by ligaments and muscle.

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