Welcome back again! Since you are here, I'm assuming you've read Parts 1 and 2 of this story, and you probably hate me a bit right now. I would too. I'm glad you came back anyway! And at least this wasn't too long of a wait, was it? This is the eagerly anticipated conclusion of The Trainer. As always, I'd love to hear what you think! I enjoy every comment and message, even the ones that tell me I'm in trouble. Especially those; they show me how much you care! As for the previous parts, a warm thanks goes out to my wife, to Broken Spokes, and to all of you for giving feedback. And now, without further ado, happy reading!
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"Jamie!" Amy scrambled frantically over to her dog, who was breathing heavily. She whimpered when Amy touched her. There was so much blood. Jamie's muzzle was covered in it, and a trail of drops through the open door showed that she'd done some damage to the attacker. There was a large pool of blood around Jamie's back leg, which was slowly expanding even as Amy looked at it. It made her feel sick and she urged herself to think. She needed help. Jamie needed help.
With trembling fingers, she looked for her phone, which miraculously was still at the side of the bed. The burglar must not have seen it in the dark or he would surely have taken it.
Amy acted without thinking. She called the first person that came to her mind. The one person who would know what to do.
"Please pick up," she pleaded to the dial tone.
"Amy? What...," came finally the groggy voice on the other end. A wave of relief coursed through Amy. She hadn't heard that voice in over a month and she hadn't realised how much she'd missed it. She had avoided any contact with Charlie. Trying to get over her, trying to respect her wishes to not engage with someone who was due to leave the island. But in this moment, there was no one else she could have called. She needed Charlie. She started crying, finally overwhelmed with stress.
"Amy, calm down. What's going on?" If Amy had had any concerns that Charlie may have been upset by Amy calling her, she was proven wrong. There was nothing but concern in Charlie's voice.
"She's been shot," she sobbed into the phone. "It's her leg. She's bleeding. Oh Charlie, I think it's bad!"
"What are you talking about? Who's been shot?" Charlie's usually calm voice gained an edge of panic.
"Jamie-ie-ie..."
Without needing any further details, Charlie got down to business: "Okay, Amy, listen carefully. Here's what I need you to do. I need you to tie something around her leg, higher up than the wound; a belt or something, or a tea towel. You've seen them do that in movies, right? Make it really tight. You need to stop the bleeding. Can you do that?"
"Yes, I think so," Amy snottered, wondering why she hadn't thought of that. She spotted the trousers she'd been wearing the night before draped over a chair. She ripped the skinny belt from around the waist and kneeled down next to Jamie, putting the phone on speaker.
"There's so much blood," she said, feeling herself get queasy again.
"Look where it's darkest. That's where the wound is. Can you see it?"
Amy saw a darker puddle in the centre of Jamie's thigh. The blood there seemed to well up when Jamie moved. "I see it," she confirmed.
"Tie the belt above it, Amy. Make sure the bleeding slows down."
Amy got to work, making Jamie yelp with pain when she pulled the belt tight around her leg.
"I know, I know. It's okay, baby girl. You'll be alright," Charlie was saying. It took Amy a moment to realise she was talking to Jamie and not to her.
"I think it's slowing down," Amy said, seeing the blood not forming any new bubbles.
"Great. Well done, Amy. Now I need you to very carefully put her in your car, okay? Wrap her in a blanket so you can lift her without hurting her. Make sure she's comfortable. Drive to the vet, okay? The one where we cleaned her up. I'll meet you there. I'll call and make sure someone is there."
Amy hadn't even thought that far. Of course the vet wouldn't be open. Her phone told her it was nearly 3 am.
"Okay, okay...," she stammered. She hung up the phone and got to work. She grabbed the biggest beach towel she had and wrapped it around Jamie, carefully avoiding her sore leg. She managed to get the dog in the car. Jamie was significantly heavier than the first time she'd handled her like this, all those months ago.
It was when she rushed back to her apartment to lock up that she saw the broken window next to the front door. The intruder must have broken that to get in. There was nothing she could do about it, apart from propping a left-over moving box against it from the inside and hope for the best.
Amy made it to the vet clinic in record time and was greeted by one of the vets she recognised from her earlier visits with Jamie. Charlie wasn't there yet but that was hardly surprising considering how far she had to go.
She helped the vet carry Jamie onto his examination table and watched as he carefully inspected the wound.
"You did good to stop the bleeding," he said. "The bullet is still in there, so that needs to come out. You may want to wait outside," he added kindly.
"But she'll be okay, right?" Amy asked with a sniffle.
"She's lost a lot of blood but it looks like the bullet has missed the important bits. I'll know more when I get in there. Please..." He ushered her to the door in a friendly yet determined manner and Amy could do nothing more than to sink into one of the plastic waiting room seats to cry some more.
When Charlie burst through the door a while later, she wasted no time. She rushed over and gathered Amy into her arms, hugging her tight. Amy sobbed into her shoulder, soaking Charlie's hoodie with her tears.
