Interesting fact: I apparently had not yet come up with the title for this story back then, as the original floppy disk file (which I do not have on me and cannot use even if I did, otherwise I'd be copying and pasting!!) was titled merely "dami.wps."
Please see the introduction to the second draft of this story for all the details. Then have fun comparing the two; I know I will. This has been RETYPED from the hardcopy and so if typos are present, and are not followed by [sic], then please point them out to me because they were committed on accident as I retyped this. Sorry.
I know this story predates the other version, but I will just place it around the same time of writing, and estimate that it's from around 1998-2000, though probably earlier than 2000.
Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2
THERE WAS A FLURRY of noise as the back doors of the ambulance swung open and a gurney was wheeled out. Shouts to get out of the way echoed down the hospital halls while nurses and doctors ran this way and that; the paramedics surrounded the gurney and transported it down the hall to the emergency room as fast as they could. "Hook up the electroshocker, stat!" the head doctor ordered, and a little machine was wheeled up beside the gurney. [Note--yes, I am aware--NOW--that this machine is in fact called a defibrillator. Didn't know that back then. One good thing about rewriting.] The paddles were pulled out; all the while one of the other doctors had been administering CPR. [Note--would they be doing this?? Recall that Dami received a STEERING COLUMN to the chest, and his ribs are broken...] He hoped they wouldn't need the machine, but their patient was fading fast. The heart monitor had been hooked up and the beeps emitting from it were growing ever more erratic as the emergency equipment was pulled out and set on the tray. Suddenly it stopped altogether, and there was only a high-pitched drone. The doctors looked up at the monitor.
"He's flatlining!" the head doctor said. "Give me the paddles!"
They were handed over; the doctor shouted, "Clear!" and pressed them to the patient's sides. Their patient jumped convulsively, but the monitor showed no change. He tried again. Again his patient jumped, but fell back limp again, his head rolling to the side, his eyes closed and the oxygen mask covering his mouth. [Note--again, I do not think they have the mask on when they're defib...um...whatever the hell they call this.]
"Damn it, we're losing him," he cursed. "Turn the thing up! Clear!" And he tried the paddles again.
Outside in the hallway another outburst of noise arose. Several people ran in and had to be held back by a couple of policemen outside the emergency room doors. Two of them were little kids and they were wailing to be let in. The other three were adults, one a woman, one a young man, and the other apparently a priest from the way he was dressed. The woman started screaming to be let in, flailing her arms at the policemen as they grabbed her, trying to coax her to stay out of the way. The young man and the priest pulled up to the counter, breathless.
"Tell me," the priest gasped, "is he going to be all right?"
"We don't know, Father," the nurse behind the counter replied as calmly as she could. "I'm not the one--"
"Doesn't anybody around here know what the hell's going on?" the young man cried, circling around and heading towards the policemen. The priest attempted to stop him but grasped only empty air. "You there! what's going on in there? How bad is it? Tell me what's going on, or I swear I'll scream and wake up everybody in the damn hospital!"
"They're doing everything they can--" one cop said, still attempting to calm the hysterical woman down, while the other talked softly to the two sniffling kids.
"Would everybody just sit down and be quiet, then we might be able to find out how it's going," the nurse at the counter called out above the hubbub. The young man looked ready to retort, but the priest took him by the arm, saying something in his ear, and he retreated to the sofa, sullen but subdued. The two kids followed, still sniffing and crying, and curled up in the priest's lap while he held them, whispering that everything would be okay. The cops finally got the woman to calm down a little bit, though she sank down on the floor and continued crying into her hands. [Note--yep, original version is much more melodramatic.]
Right now one of the policemen was talking to the nurse. "It was a hell of a sight," he was saying in a low voice, trying not to let the others hear. "The thing was a total wreck. They had to use the Jaws of Life and even then it took pretty long just to get him out. It was wrapped around a tree. I can't believe he's still alive."
"Don't speak too soon," the nurse muttered.
"They're still checking it out," the cop went on. "It looked like an accident at first. But as soon as they all got away from it the thing blew. Just like a geyser. All that wrecked fiberglass just blown up into the air. Hell of a fireball. After they put it out there was hardly anything left. [Note--in the newest version of events, I believe the bomb did not detonate; it was instead removed.] Real shame for a car expensive as that. But they said it looked like it could've been a bomb."
"Bomb? But why didn't it go off before the wreck?"
"That's what we don't get. It must've been timed, and then the wreck happened. Or maybe he was going to stop or something so someone tried to force him to keep going--so he'd still be in it when it blew. Only he got in a wreck first. If we hadn't shown up when we did he'd be scattered all over the Lower Peninsula by now. Hell of a sight," he said again.
The emergency room doors opened, and the head doctor stepped out, letting them close slowly behind him. All of those waiting outside stood up, anxiety written all over their faces. He looked at them, removing his gloves, then stepped forward to the priest. He let out his breath.
"I'm sorry," he said. "We did all we could. There was nothing else we could do to help him."
All of the color drained from the priest's face, and he looked ready to pass out where he stood. "When?" he whispered.
"12:07. Like I said, we did everything humanly possible--"
The doors were thrown open. "Doctor," said a shaking intern, his voice strained, "we think you should come see this."
The doctor rushed back in, the priest following. "What is it?" he started to ask, when he heard an erratic beeping and looked up at the monitor. He also grew pale.
"It just started up again, out of nothing," the intern stammered. "We don't know how, but it did--"
The doctor immediately started barking out orders to wheel the patient to a more suitable place where he could be cared for. An IV was hooked up and the gurney wheeled out. "You stay here," he said, following. The priest did as he was told; he could hear the woman and the kids outside cry out when they saw the gurney with its patient taken away. He leaned against the cold wall, his hand resting on the electroshocker, the other going up to shield his eyes. When that didn't work he started rubbing his temples, trying to stop breathing so hard. After he'd gotten himself sufficiently calmed down he glanced up at the clock. It read 12:34. He shuddered silently just as the doctor came back in, again removing his gloves, but for good this time. The priest watched as he went to the other side of the room, dropped the gloves in a trashcan, washed his hands and face in a washbasin, dried them off, and turned back to him. For several moments he couldn't speak.
"It must be a miracle," he said slowly. "I'm not the sort of man who puts much stock in things like that but that's the only explanation I have."
"How long was he...how long was he dead?"
The doctor sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Nine minutes, twenty-three seconds," he replied. "I thought for sure we'd lost him. But like the intern told me, his heart just started up again, all on its own." He shrugged helplessly. "I really have no idea how this could have happened, Father, but it did. It's next to impossible. I've never had it happen before. I don't think I ever will again."
"Is he going to make it?"
Another shrug. "I can't be certain. If he makes it through the next forty-eight hours, then there's a good chance he will." He stepped forward, putting his hand upon the priest's shoulder. "He's a real fighter, Father. I've heard stories of people coming back from the dead but there was no way I ever thought I'd witness one do it. He's got to be pretty damn tough to stick this through, pardon my language. You have one hell of a nephew."
The priest smiled faintly in the dim light. "You don't know Damien," was all he said.
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