-"Please, just get us to Lincoln.."

Larry spotted an older lady who appeared to be hospital staff standing near another dirty and bloody young boy that he hadn’t notice before.  He was sitting off to her side, and she stroked his hair gently as she stared transfixed by the spectacle along with everyone else. 

Another victim by the looks of him. 

He had a blood stained bandage on his hand and his arm was held in a cloth sling.  He stared in stunned silence at the man as he worked around the other children.  To his other side, two older men in long white coats were staring toward the man and quietly speaking.  They appeared to be doctors. 

Larry made his way to them and introduced himself.  He was a little angry by all of this.

“I just found their wreckage,” he said.  “Can someone tell me why no one is helping that man?”

One of the doctors huffed a snorted and sarcastic murmur and turned, walking away from them down the hall.  The other lifted his hands in an exasperated gesture.

“He won’t allow us to treat them!” Dr Bunting said loudly, in an exasperated and amazed voice.  He was clearly incredibly frustrated. 

“He exploded on my staff, and now he won’t let us treat them!”  He waved his hand around the room.  “Any of them!  He is extremely agitated, and frankly I am afraid for my staff’s safety!” 

Larry couldn’t believe it.  Why would he deny his kids care from these people?  What the hell was going on?

“Does anyone know his name?” Larry asked.  The nurse by the boy spoke up from beside him.

“It’s Doctor Styner,” Marilyn said.  “He’s a doctor from Lincoln.”

But Larry already knew where he was from, and the name struck him into silence.  He had in fact known dad for many years, having seen him and spoken often with him at Lincoln General Hospital, where Larry was a frequent fixture in the course of his job.  The realization of the discovery hung confusingly in the air as he watched this wretched figure before him feverishly working on his kids as the hospital staff looked on, unable to aid in any way.  Right here, like this, Larry did not even remotely recognize this man.

Another pretty young nurse quietly sidled up to one of the little boys and began to fasten a blood pressure cuff around his bicep.  The man shot a look around at her that made her freeze, but then he turned his attention back to the other boy and let her continue without a word.  

Helen softly but quickly smoothed the blood pressure cuff over Rick’s arm.  He wasn’t in good shape, she knew.  Dr. Bunting had already seen he had a bad head injury, but Dr. Styner had shut them down early on, and no further diagnosis had been made or any more X-rays taken.  She felt compelled to at least try to help these poor kids, though.  She refused to just watch them die doing nothing.  So far, dad had not made any steps to stop her from checking vitals.  So she did what she could.  It was all she could do.

She caught the eye of the young policeman that had just walked in.  He looked anxious, too.  She was sure this had to look crazy to him.  He nodded to her and she smiled nervously, and then shifted her attention back to the little boy before her.  She felt helpless, like she was walking on eggs.

Larry slowly walked toward dad, who defensively looked up as he approached.

“Dr. Styner?” he said softly.  Even through the swollen face, Larry could detect the hostility in dad’s eyes.  When dad recognized him as a cop, his demeanor softened a little.  He sheepishly looked back at the young boy on the table, and brushed his hair back from the bloody wound on his head.  Dad didn’t seem to recognize Larry as someone he knew, and if he did, it didn’t show.

“Dr. Styner,” Larry said again.  “Do you know who I am?”  Dad looked at him again.  He was obviously in shock.  He appeared to be operating on nothing but adrenaline.  He didn’t respond.

“What happened?”  Larry asked.  It was a silly question, but he had to say something.

“We…crashed,” dad croaked.  “Out in the field…” 

He looked down and stared at the boy for a few seconds.  Up close, dad looked even worse.  His lips were swollen and cracked, slurring his speech slightly.  Up close it was easy to see that his right eye was swollen completely closed and dried blood filled in every inflamed groove around it, sealing the eyelid shut with a clotted and scabbing mortar of blood. 

A small flap of skin on the right side of his head had been peeled back, and was now stuck roughly back in place, held there only by the coagulated blood that still oozed down his forehead and over his cheek.  Another deep wound was obvious on the same cheek, but wasn’t bleeding so bad anymore, although the stains on dad’s clothes seemed to indicate that it was a great deal as some point.  Larry could make out dark circular bruises on dads face and head, which he recognized had been made by the casings of the instruments when dad’s face was pummeled into them on impact.

His left shoulder was obviously immobile, and the way he walked, Larry could tell he had suffered at least some level of internal injuries.  In short, dad was a real mess.  Larry could scarcely believe he could even be on his feet at all in his condition, yet alone why someone here hadn’t just taken control of this situation, forced him to lie down, and sedated him.  It just wasn’t the way things were done down here, he guessed.

Helen moved up quietly beside dad.  Larry could see she wanted to take the young boys vitals.  When dad became aware of her, he quickly shifted himself in front of her to head her off, defiantly glaring at her.  Larry could see her fear, even if it was only for a moment.  He was still a cop, and wasn’t about to let the situation spin any further out of control especially into violence.  He stepped between them, facing dad.

“Look, doc, she just wants to take his vitals,” Larry said.

“They don’t know what they’re doing!” dad snapped, glaring at her over Larry’s shoulder.  Larry tried to calm him.

“It’s just vitals, doc,” he said.  “Let’s just let her do that.” 

He gently touched dads arm, not sure what he would do if dad got pissed and decided he wanted to fight.  Larry would have really hated to force him down and put him in handcuffs.  The act of forcing him to the ground alone might just kill him in his state. 

However, Larry was surprised and gratified that dad moved with him as he led him a short way from the table.  Helen began to fasten the cuff around my arm.  The other staff didn’t move.

Dad stared at the floor and began to tell Larry what he thought had happened.  Dad told him a staggering story of the field and his search for the highway and the men who picked him up.  Dad looked around for them for a moment, but didn’t see them.  Ricky and David had already left, not knowing what else to do.  Dad never got to thank them. 

He went on to tell Larry about the locked door and that he didn’t think the staff at the hospital was able to provide us the care we desperately needed.  He went on about Rick’s neck, and things that they didn’t do that they should have.  Then suddenly he looked straight at Larry with desperation and grabbed his sleeve.

“Please,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Please, just get us to Lincoln.”

 Larry realized in that moment that if any of these kids was going to get help tonight, it would be up to him. 

It had nothing to do with the competency of the staff here he knew; it had to do with getting them somewhere where the doc would let them be treated.  He pressed his lips together considering his options and gently patted dad on the shoulder.  Dad turned and moved back to the table where I lay.  He didn’t yell at the nurse this time, but just let her do her thing.  He was resolved, for the moment.

But Larry had a few tricks he could try and asked one of the staff if he could use a telephone, then followed him out of the room to an empty office just up the hall.  Helen glanced up to see him go.  She felt better when he was there.  She tried to ignore the man glaring at her as she tried to work, but it didn’t help much.