M McDonald - March Into Hell

Jim cast a glance over his shoulder when he didn't feel the press of Jessica, Dan and Mark behind him. Their progress was stymied and Mark appeared rooted to the sidewalk. He turned towards Jim, his face drained of color, his eyes, huge and fixed on the mob. Jim saw him shudder when a sea of hands reached for him. He was teetering on the edge of panic. Jim had seen the signs before in other situations. It went beyond the deer in the headlights look. It was akin to a deer surrounded by a pack of salivating wolves. He swore when he noticed that Taylor kept his weight off his right foot. That was probably part of the problem. Not only was the guy surrounded, but he was hobbled too. Just like a deer with his tendons slashed. Easy prey.

Jim fought his way back to the trio, wondering when the hell the cops would arrive. At that instant, a child darted between legs and touched Taylor’s hand, then dashed back with a squeal of triumph. Like a switch being thrown, people swarmed forward, their mass too much for four people to fend off.

Even the reporters started looking frightened and now many turned to face the crowd, adding their own shouts to those of Jim’s. Taylor’s shirt sleeve was torn by some seeking hand, and he tottered as he lost his balance for a second. If it hadn’t been for a reporter steadying him, he would have gone down. Jim hated to think what the outcome would be if that happened.

Several babies were shoved towards Mark and he limped backwards, holding his hand up. Over the din, Jim could barely hear him as he pleaded,“I’m not what you guys think. Please…just let me go inside.”

In response, another baby was pushed towards him. At the same time, the crowd surged forward, knocking the infant from the mother’s hands. Mark dipped his shoulder and caught the baby between his right arm and his chest, using his left hand to steady the infant.

The mother screeched,“He saved my baby! Did you all see that?” Instead of taking her baby back, she lifted her arms heavenward and closed her eyes, swaying back and forth, chanting, "Praise the Lord."

Jim reached Mark and took the child and returned her to the mother, startling her into opening her eyes. With a snort of disgust, Jim put one arm across Taylor’s shoulders, and shoved people with the other as he forced their way through the crowd. Taylor let out a strangled groan as Jim dragged him along. He hated having to pull Mark , knowing the guy was hardly in the best shape to be rushed through a crowd, but there was no other option.

Sirens announced the arrival of the police-finally-and also caused the people to turn their attention away for a moment. It was all they needed the door open, Dan blocked the crowd from entering, and Jim and Mark stumbled into the building.

The dim interior, so quiet after the screams and shouts, seemed almost unnatural.

Lily was waiting inside and took Mark's arm, letting him lean on her as he hobbled towards the back of the studio. It took the combined strength of the other three to shut the door and lock it against the push of people. The trio leaned back against the door, gasping for breath. Nobody spoke.

Mark limped to his desk and collapsed onto his chair, his head hanging as his chest heaved.

Jim staggered over, surprised at how drained he felt. He sat on the edge of the desk. His heart still raced, and he couldn’t imagine what Mark was feeling. Hearing pounding, he looked to the door, glad to see Dan remained against it, standing guard. Jessica had crossed to the back corner of the office and was filling a paper cup from a standing water cooler. He glanced back at Mark. “You okay?”

Mark nodded but didn’t look up. His right elbow rested on his knee and his hand reached under his sling to rub his abdomen. Jim remembered the stab wound he’d suffered and he noted a long scratch on Mark’s exposed shoulder. Jim grimaced. It was his fault. It was his job to see that Taylor made it through the crowd, and he should have anticipated something like this. Instead, he had failed miserably.

Mark took the cup from Jessica and guzzled the water. Jim pushed off the desk to grab a drink too. After he downed the first cup and re-filled it, he finally felt his heart slow down. He tried to take stock of the situation. "How's it looking out there?"

Dan peered out the front window then threw over his shoulder, "I think it would be best if you got out of sight, Mark.”

Jessica edged towards the windows. “I wouldn’t put it past them to break out the glass.”

Jim followed her gaze, his mouth dropping open at the faces pressed against the window. “I guess this didn’t go quite how we planned.” Uniformed officers began moving people back from the windows, but Jim could see it wasn’t an easy task.

Mark raised his head at that, a hint of smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “No?” He straightened, wincing as he did, his eyes going to Jessica. "Thanks for the drink, but about now, a shot of whiskey might be more appropriate."

Jessica smiled. "I hear you. I think I could use one myself."

Jim wanted to join in the conversation, and knew that after the harrowing encounter, a little light-hearted banter was exactly what Mark needed, but he had to stay focused. Just because they hadn't seen Kern, didn't mean he or one of his followers wasn't lurking in the crowd.

"Hey! I can fill that request!" Lily practically leaped across the room and flung open a cabinet against the back wall.

Mark took a deep breath, then raised his hand in a stop gesture as Lily reached behind some folders and lenses, and pulled a bottle of liquor out of the cabinet. “That's okay. I was only kidding, Lily. I’m still on antibiotics and I don’t know how they would react to alcohol. I appreciate the thought, though. I'm sure it would have taken the edge off.”

Dan grimaced and said, “Sorry about how this went down, Mark. I should have called back-up before you guys even got here. I just didn't think the crowd would be so aggressive. I mean, they were out there singing hymns a little while ago."

Mark waved him off. “It's not your fault. I shouldn’t have stopped moving. I just kind of…froze, I guess.” He raked his good hand through his hair and Jim didn't miss the slight trembling.

For all his lighthearted talk about shots of whiskey, Jim could see how shaken up he was inside. He crossed to stand in front of Mark. “Seriously, I need to know if there was any damage done.”

Mark looked at his foot, hesitating. “Not really, but my foot got stepped on pretty good.”

It took a moment for Jim to realize Mark was probably afraid to look-not that he could blame him.

Jim's own stomach churned at what they might find, and didn’t know if he could look either. “Should I call paramedics?”

Mark pushed back in the chair. “No! It’s fine. Last thing I want to do is add to the circus.”

Jessica strode over from the windows. “Let me see.” She took her jacket off and threw it over the back of a chair before bending on one knee reaching for Mark's foot.

Jim made a mental note to thank her.

Mark withdrew his foot from her grasp, and turned so that it was under the table. He wore an expression of horror. “It’s fine!”

“Christ, Mark, it’s just a foot. It’s not like she asked you to drop your pants.” Jim shook his head in mock annoyance.

Jessica's face turned pink and matched the color of Mark’s ears. She, at least, overcame her embarrassment. “Come on. It’s either that or we take you back to the hospital for them to look.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed and he looked from Dan to Jim and over to Lily. When no one offered any refuge, his shoulders slumped. He leaned over and tried to reach his laces to untie them, but stopped short and grabbed his stomach, his eyes screwed shut in a grimace. It was few seconds before he opened them again. Lily closed in on his side, her hand going to his back.