One Night To Wed. Alison Roberts

line.

      She saw one of the dark shapes move and a moment later Angus was back beside her.

      ‘She’s been shot in the leg. It’s fractured her femur and there’s been heavy blood loss. I’ve got a dressing and pressure bandage on it and I’ve given her some pain relief, but she’s in shock. How far from your surgery are we?’

      ‘Not far.’ Fliss matched his whisper. ‘I was going to climb over the Carsons’ fence there to get to the street. My place is two houses down from there.’

      ‘I’m going to carry Maria.’

      ‘Maria?’ Fliss was shocked. ‘What was she doing here?’

      ‘Hiding, I expect. She’s not too big so I can carry her, but not over a fence.’

      ‘She’s pregnant,’ Fliss told him. ‘Thirty-six weeks.’

      ‘I did notice.’ Even the whisper sounded wry.

      ‘Her babies have come a bit earlier each time. This is number five.’

      ‘Definitely not over a fence, then.’

      There was an undercurrent of amusement in the whisper now. And something else. A response to a challenge. Excitement, even.

      ‘I’m going to have a word with Seth. We might need some extra cover so we can go down the street.’

      The consultation with the still unseen Seth took less than a minute. Then they waited for perhaps another ten minutes until they were given permission to carry out the planned rescue mission. Angus went back to Maria but Fliss was ordered to stay where she was for the moment. It was a long time to sit in silence, knowing that every minute could represent a deterioration in their patient’s condition.

      She needs oxygen, Fliss thought. And fluids. Being in shock would be a danger to the baby whose survival depended on the oxygen supply it received from its mother’s blood.

      Maria adored her children and after four girls she was convinced that a longed-for boy was due to arrive. Fliss had visited their alternative lifestyle block where they grew most of their own food and home-schooled their children. She had envied the contentment and solidarity of the self-sufficient family. She couldn’t let anything horrible happen to Maria or the baby.

      The wave of anger towards the perpetrator of this violence shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to Fliss. It was people like that who shattered the lives of innocent people, including children.

      The way hers had been shattered all those years ago. Sitting in the cemetery with the memories of her own losses made Fliss all too aware of what the repercussions of random acts of violence like this could be. The effects could be so far-reaching they could interfere with the rest of your life. They could put what you wanted more than anything out of reach. Could undermine and destroy relationships.

      As hers had been.

      The force that had plucked her father from her life had not been something a person could be blamed for because no one had ever been caught for the arson attack that had started the house fire. That her firefighter father had been caught when the roof had collapsed unexpectedly had been deemed a disastrous miscalculation. A terrible accident but one that came with the territory of such a career.

      Some of her earliest memories had to do with that nebulous force of danger that had hung over her father’s career, reinforced by her mother’s anxiety every time he’d gone on duty. For the first time, however, Fliss could feel hatred for the person who’d committed the mindless act of starting that fire in the first place. The same kind of hatred she was experiencing towards whoever was roaming through Morriston right now with a loaded gun.

      And she could find an outlet for such a negative emotion much closer to hand. In the men who chose a career that brought them close to that kind of evil. Who waited for it to happen. Looked forward to it, even, because it provided excitement. When Angus came back to her position, Fliss found herself watching for evidence of that career satisfaction.

      ‘You guys are enjoying this, aren’t you?’

      ‘Keep your voice down, Fliss.’

      ‘This must be the biggest callout you’ve ever had.’

      ‘Shh!’ The hiss was a command. ‘We’re moving. Follow me, and, for God’s sake, shut up.’

      Fliss shut up, her anger replaced by fear. Angus gathered Maria into his arms seemingly effortlessly and Fliss walked beside him with Seth on her other side. She presumed they had cover from other members of the squad, although she couldn’t see anyone.

      Maria bravely kept as silent as she could, her pale face pressed into Angus’s shoulder, her broken leg hidden by the long, flowered dress she wore. The ungainly knot of humanity crept slowly along the street until Fliss breathed an audible sigh of relief.

      ‘This is it. My surgery.’

      A faded sign designated the add-on to the small cottage as the ‘Morriston Medical Centre’. Fliss had left her keys with the rather cumbersome kit back at Jack’s house but it didn’t matter. The door, panelled with opaque glass, that led into the small waiting room was never locked. Fliss reached for the handle.

      ‘Wait!’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Has this door been unlocked since you left?’

      ‘Yes. I never lock it on Wednesdays. I usually hold surgery hours between seven and nine and if I’m called out, people need somewhere to wait.’

      Seth and Angus exchanged a glance and Fliss dropped her hand. What if someone was waiting inside who wasn’t a patient? It had never occurred to her that she needed to fret about security in a place like Morriston.

      Things were never going to be the same after this.

      ‘I’ll check it out,’ Seth said quietly. ‘Stay here.’

      He was back only moments later. There hadn’t been much to check. A waiting area, a toilet, the consultation room and a small storage space. The connecting interior door that led from the waiting area into the cottage was always locked from the house side. If Fliss wanted to enter her home during working hours, she would walk around the corner to the small verandah that had her front door exactly in the middle.

      Angus carried Maria straight into the consultation room and laid her gently on the bed. Seth locked the outside door behind them and then pulled the curtains closed.

      ‘Don’t turn on any more lights than you absolutely have to,’ he instructed.

      Fliss put a desk lamp on the floor, angled the head down and switched it on. The pool of light wasn’t enough but a small penlight torch provided a narrow, bright beam that wouldn’t be obvious from outside.