Laughing Fate Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Holy Crap!" David scrambled down the ledge, sliding down the slope on some loose gravel.  He gave Puck a quick once over and then sprang into action.
    He opened his cell and called the local hospital, letting them know that they would be arriving with a patient. Then he helped Potter get Puck up the slope, which was easy considering that Potter wouldn’t give up his hold on Puck, he had her cradled gently against his chest, and would glare at Dave any time he offered to help.
    Potter thanked Dave absently and gently laid Puck on the backseat of his car.  She looked so vulnerable, lying there like that.  He was so used to seeing Puck full of life and mischief, that it scared him to see her so lifeless. He laid a trembling hand on her neck to check her pulse. It was still beating steadily, if a little faint.
    Potter sighed with relief and jumped into the driver’s seat. As he sped up the mountain he crooned to her, told her that everything was okay and that soon she’d be seen by a doctor. She didn’t wake the whole time, who would have thought that Potter would wish to see battle in her eyes?
    ‘No,’ thought Potter, ‘Not wish…beg. I would beg to see her open those fiery eyes and scare the wits out of me.’ He made it to the hospital in record time, and soon he was watching as Puck was taken away.
     
    ****
     
    She dreamed of being in an angel’s arms. They were strong and warm and smelled faintly of sea salt. She loved that smell. Her angel muttered angrily and eventually he went away. It was so black and somewhere there was a hammer banging against something incredibly too loud.  The ping of the hammer’s blows hurt her head, in fact her whole body hurt. Puck wrinkled her nose and thought about killing the hammer happy bozo.  Wait, why was her world black? Was she dead? Well, the old preacher man had been right then, Puck must be in Hell.
    Then her angel was back, bringing with him the ocean smells that she loved. The hammering stopped and she was lost in a memory of past surf trips with her Dad. Those had been such happy times, her Dad surfing while she boogy boarded closer to shore.  He had used that exact brand of surf wax…
    Her angel was holding her hand, his thumb lightly stroking her soft skin. It felt really soothing, keeping the hammer at bay, to feel her angel’s touch. It took her a second to focus on what he was saying; surely he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying, was he?  He was muttering about demons and the fires of hell. What kind of angel was this?
    Slowly his words drifted over to her and she began to understand what he was saying. He sounded concerned, angry, and panicked.  Maybe, his voice wasn’t so soothing after all. Puck thought she recognized that voice...who could this angel be? And what was this she was feeling? She still enjoyed the sensations of him holding her hand, but his voice was putting her on edge. Kind of like nails being scratched on a chalk board, but she didn’t want her angel to stop talking.
    “If you don’t wake up you damn fool woman I’m gonna kill you. Who else but you could manage to almost die in the ten minutes I left you alone? Ten minutes! My god! You’re not safe to be on your own! Are you listening to me, you devil incarnate? Wake up and show me the fire in your eyes. Hell, rant and rave at me! I don’t care just wake up you fowl tempered shrew! Do what you’re told for once in your life and WAKE UP!"
    That was not an angel’s voice. Scrunching her nose, Puck tried to think of who it sounded like...
    "Potter! Stop yelling at my sister!" cried a true angel’s voice. Perri sounded scared, poor thing. Some one had to tell Perri it was all going to be ok and Potter wasn’t doing it...stupid man.
    Puck moved her other hand (which had an I.V. stuck in it) slowly, searching for Perri’s.  Puck could feel the surprise jump through Perri when Puck grasped her hand and squeezed reassuringly.  Potter, who was still stroking her