Part 8.
Mark yelled into the phone
and paced the room. "ELIZABETH! ANSWER ME!!! HOW IN THE HELL DID
THIS HAPPEN!?"
There was no answer on the
other end because Dave's cellphone had fallen to the floor. Elizabeth stood
in
shock, watching Cindy drag
a young man into the apartment.
"GOD! What happened!?" Elizabeth
knelt beside the man and checked his pulse. Cindy cradled him in her
arms.
"It.. It's Danny.. I.. I
found him like this outside the building.. Kurt and him had a fight again..
K-Kurt got out
the gun.." Cindy whimpered,
brushing the hair from Danny's closed eyes.
Elizabeth cursed, ripping
the shirt open and revealing a rather large gunshot wound to Danny's stomach..
"Jesus Christ.. Where is
that bastard?? I'll kill him myself."
Danny was a regular at County
General. Broken ribs, arms, legs.. You name it.. Danny had it in a cast,
over
the past year that he'd
been dating Kurt. It was general knowledge that Danny was gay.. Dave never
had tried
to hide the fact. But it
was still a sore subject.
Elizabeth's cursing was greeted
by the soft metallic click as Kurt's shotgun was pointed at temple. "Your
brother is a fucking loser..
You know what he did today?!" Kurt growled.
Elizabeth shook her head
and grabbed a fallen dishtowel, holding it against Danny's wound as Kurt
held the
gun to her head. "No.. I
don't Kurt.. Why don't you tell us. Tell me why you had to shoot Danny."
Kurt laughed. "Seriously?
You're even more fucked up than your brother. He was leaving. He said he
was
leaving me. Said he was
going come live with you. He said.. That you told him to move out.. He
said that you
called me a sick bastard
and that he should get away from me. He said he wasn't going to take it
anymore."
There was distinct hurt
in his voice as it trembled. How anyone could care for somebody so much.
Somebody
that they used as a shooting
target and a punching bag, was beyond Elizabeth's comprehension.
He pulled the gun off Elizabeth's
temple and pointed at the back of Cindy's head. Kurt smirked, his high
forehead and low sloping
brow only reinforcing the man's sheer stupidity. One could wonder what
Danny had
ever saw in Kurt. He certainly
wasn't handsome, or nice.. One could only hope that Kurt was the greatest
lay
in history because.. Otherwise,
Kurt really didn't have anything going for him. "Now.. Dr.Dave.. Fix my
boyfriend or your girlfriend's
brains get blown all over your nice kitchen."
***
Mark stared at the phone.
Elizabeth.. In trouble.. Jesus Christ. Quickly he hung up the phone and
dialled 9-1-1,
and yelled for Dave.
"Malucci.. Get my wife's ass down here.. NOW!!"
"911?? Hi.. I.. I have an
emergency.. Yeah.. Somebody's been shot.. The.. shooter's still.. Still
there in the
apartment. Yeah.. 67 Bridge
St.. Apartment.. Uh.."
Dave walked into the room, Tescotickle asleep on his shoulder. "Apartment 32B.. Wh-what's wrong???"
***
"Certainly, Kurt.." Elizabeth
replied through clenched teeth. "He needs medical attention.. Blood.. Paramedics..
I can't do anything for
him here.."
"FIX HIM!!!!!!!" Kurt's gun
left Cindy's head for a split second, firing at the coffee pot and shattering
it into
pieces. His blonde, dirty,
greasy hair fell in his dull, bug-like eyes and he blew it back with a
puff from his
chapped, bulbous lips. He
looked like Kurt Cobain crossed with a stunned, blind sheep who'd been
beaten
severely with an ugly stick.
Yes.. Elizabeth said to herself. Kurt was an ugly bastard.
"I.. I can't.. I don't have the-" Elizabeth stammered.
Kurt fired again at the package
of coffee, causing it to explode, sending puffs of 'Columbian Fine Ground'
into
the air. "I don't care if
you have the stuff.. Improvise.."
**
"What's wrong Mark." Dave said worriedly as Mark talked to the 911 operator.
"I wish you wouldn't do that.." Mark muttered.
"What?!" Dave stared at him confused.
"Don't call me Mark.. You..
You're not her.." Mark replied, his voice shaking.. "She.. She's in your
apartment
with your brother and his
crazy shit of a boyfriend."
"What happened?" Dave's eyes widened and his skin turned a sickly shade of gray.
"Kurt.. Shot your brother..
Now he wants you.. her.. to fix him.. I.. I'm pretty sure he had a gun.."
Mark
swallowed, pacing the floor.
"Here.." Dave handed Mark,
Tescotickle and walked from the room. "I'm going to fix this.. I'm going
to kill
the bastard myself."
"NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! You can't!!
You're in my wife's body.. If.. If anything happened." Mark ran after him,
the baby
asleep in his arms.
"If anything happens.. Nothing
will. I'll be fine.. Elizabeth will be fine. Let me handle this.. It's
family
business.." Dave glared
at Mark. "My brother needs me. I don't care if I'm stuck in the body of
your wife, I'm
going to my brother."
"B-but-" Mark stammered
"No buts.. Are you driving?" Dave tossed him the keys.
"I.. I.. What about Tescotickle?" Mark looked at the baby asleep on his shoulder.
"His name's Andrew, Dr.Greene.." Dave sighed walking to the garage.
"Actually I sorta liked Aethelbeorht.. Beorhtie Greene.." Mark smiled slightly.
"Yeah.. But do you want to
wake up one morning with your balls surgically removed and transplanted
on
your forehead? Remember..
You ARE married to a surgeon." Dave returned Mark's nervous smile.
"Right.. Andrew it is.."
Mark chuckled nervously. "We can drop by County on the way, leave him there..
The
nurses will take care of
him.."
Dave nodded, glancing at
Elizabeth's tasteful small gold watch. "I.. I guess we have time-" If they're
not all
dead already.. Dave finished
in his head.
"They'll be fine, Dave.. Everything will be okay." Mark said with more confidence than he felt.
"I.. I hope so, Dr.Greene..
What if-" Dave glanced out the window, watching the world pass him by as
Mark
drove like a bat out of
hell.
"Don't even finish that sentence,
Malucci.. Don't even think it." Mark careened around the corner, his tassled
loafer pressing the gas
pedal to the floor.