2 Years, 2 Weeks, 2 Lives
2 Years,
2 Weeks,
2 Lives.
(The Author's Cut)
by
Phil Cocker
Copyright Phil Cocker 2014
The prequel story to the Eric Peterson Series.
Other books by Phil Cocker.
The Kylapitar (formerly published in paperback, but has also received the “Author's Cut”, and also available in ebook format).
And coming soon in the Eric Peterson series
Worlds Apart.
Earthbound.
2 Years, 2 Weeks, 2 Lives was first published in Great Britain in 2009
As a Numpty paperback
By Numpty Publishing.
Copyright Philip Cocker 2009
The right of Philip Cocker to be identified as the author
of the work has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of Numpty Publishing.
Printed in the UK by PMM Group.
Original Version published in Paperback
ISBN 978-0-9563302-0-8
ISBN 978-0-9563302-2-2
Acknowledgements.
For everyone who has cajoled me to keep going. From Sam’s tiny nugget of an idea for Lost and Found through to my very good friends Toby & Di, helping me to keep focused while I changed my life around. From Neil for believing in a marketing strategy and to all of the Agents who so kindly refused this work, but wanted me to keep going to find a way of getting these stories to you, my (hopefully) interested, amused and engrossed reader.
This is also for the gorgeous Loafy for making me realise what is truly important in life. To the lovely Hannah for the wonderful cover artwork and finally, to my beloved Paula whose single desire was to want to read an actual copy of the book.
I can only thank you all.
So, why “The Author's Cut”?
This a little like the Directors Cut version of a film, only by the Author, obviously. When I originally wrote this novel, it was as a taster for the series. Unfortunately it ended up at 25,000 words. I still self-published it, to see if it would be liked, and to help a local charity.
I apologise to all those of you who purchased a copy of either of the original novels. Since then, the story has developed, and as such I believed it would help the overall story if the plot-lines were extended across all of the series of Eric Peterson books. I do thank all of you who purchased an original copy, as you helped raise a substantial amount for the St. Catherines Hospice.
Flash!
July 22nd 2011, 18:37.
“The patient is called Eric Peterson, he’s 12 years old, suffering from concussion. He received a nasty head wound just above the joint between the Occipitale and the Parietale sections. It's probably fractured” The Paramedic spoke in a clear, firm, and unmistakably broad Chorley accent. Her large sturdy frame helped push and guide the gurney around, bashing through the first set of doors into the Royal Preston Hospital. “So far he’s been unconscious the whole time, he’s unresponsive to all stimuli; and the pupil’s blown in the right eye.”
Eric screamed his head off, yet not a soul heard him. The pain from the wide and deep gash in the back of his head hurt so much, he thought a truck had run over him. His voice sounded harsh from his screaming and he thrashed and fought against his frozen muscles, his arms, legs, and head lashing from side to side within his mind. Yet, more than anything else, he could not understand why nobody around could see him move or hear his cries for help.
“OK then.” The Doctor clapped his hands together as the doors burst open. “We’ll need to start him on an IV, check his bloods, get him on a fresh infusion, let’s get him checked for other injuries, and get the portable X-ray in here.” Calling out to the other medical staff who started to buzz around Eric’s Ambulance gurney as its wheels squeaked and bounced over the door jams into the awaiting Emergency room.. “OK, on three.”
Everyone had automatically taken their places around Eric and the adjacent bed, transferring him over from one to the other on “Three.”
The Paramedic pulled the gurney away at the right moment, placing it at one side, far from the swarming huddle of medical staff, but stayed in the room, one arm crossed over her chest, the other hand holding her throat, as if she was stifling back the sound of the fear she had gurgling up from within..
“Do we know how Debbie?” The Doctor asked, standing adjacent to the Paramedic in a Peter Pan pose, watching her very efficient team drag over a myriad of equipment, root through drawers for gauzes and bandages, and stab a cannula into the crook of Eric’s arm.
“OW!” Eric forced the word out as the needle punched through his skin and into the vein, yet to everyone around him, there was no visible reaction.
“Yes, sorry Sue,” Debbie finally responded to the question. “Erm, yes, the Police think it was a lightning strike on the Garage, then they think it hit some flammables and boom, this young fella gets blown halfway across the garden and his head hits a low wall.” She took a deep breath.
The Doctor, satisfied that her team had got everything completed, glanced from side to side. “Mum?, Dad?” Wondering why Eric had appeared alone.
“Mum!” Eric heard the name and called out once more, his frozen features suffocating the sound.
Debbie’s face saddened. “Emma’s at home, as Simon, her husband and Eric’s dad, was in the garage at the time.”
“Oh.” Was all she could add, then wondered why she’d used first names. “Do you know them?”
“Yes, Eric is Tom’s best friend at school.” Debbie replied. “Lovely lad, so polite, a little shy to start with, but he has that warming charm, that something so…” She fought for the words while she stared at the comatose best friend of her son. “So…, well, they’re all a lovely family.” She swallowed hard. “Emma asked if I could keep an eye on him, until they’ve...” She nodded at the statue-like child on the bed.
“OK. We’ll he’s in the best place, as you know more than anyone else. “Sue’s bedside manner, reserved for relatives of the patient kept her voice calm and soft. She placed a hand on Debbie’s shoulder. “He’ll be OK.”
“It’s Tom I’m worried about, how he’d cope if he lost Eric.”
“That isn’t going to happen, not on my watch, and I’ll stay here until he’s stable.” Sue replied, watching a nurse cut through Eric’s jeans, having already removed his shirt.
“I know.” Debbie huffed a laugh. “I tell everyone the same words all day long, but when it’s close, it’s not as easy to believe.”
“You can stay for a while, but I just need to do a few checks, OK?” Sue asked her friend, squeezing her hand to give her some comfort.
“Thanks, I’ll get the gurney loaded and call through to base to have a break.” Debbie raised a weak smile as she turned away.
She returned a few minutes later to a room that calmly bleeped and pinged, a spaghetti run of tubes and wires running from various parts of Eric’s body into clear and red bags, and various pieces of monitoring equipment. Even to her experienced and well-trained eyes, it was a shock, made more so because she knew the patient.
“Any news on his Father?” Sue asked.
“The fire’s out.” Debbie replied, her voice flat.
“That’s quick, which is good.” Sue replied, trying to add a little hope to the situation. “That means it shouldn’t be as hard to get him out.”
“Hmmm.”
“So we might be expecting him in here soon?” Her professional side coming to
the fore once more, planning the next move, managing the resources she had to hand, and also trying to keep her friend occupied..
“There’s a Special Rescue team on their way, as the garage is just a pile of rubble.” Debbie stared blankly at the monitors, not reading the numbers that she would understand and interpret as well as any other member of staff in the room. Her fingers twirled a clump of her auburn hair absently. “How’s he doing?”
“Quite well, considering all that’s happened. We’ve stemmed the blood for now, although the skull is fractured; he hit the corner of the wall as he fell, with a fair old crack.” Sue karate chopped the palm of her hand. “The X-ray doesn’t show anything floating around, but we’ll monitor that to see how that heals.” She glanced at the monitors to see what they were telling her. “Everything else is as good as could be expected, in fact, to be honest, he’s doing better than someone in his condition. Either he’s a very lucky young man, or someone very special is looking after him.” Sue flashed a weak smile at her friend.
“Lucky? Lucky?” Eric asked in the solidified world he now lived within. “I’m in a coma and you think I’m lucky.”
“Did you call John?” Sue asked, her eyes watching her friend carefully.
“Yes, he’ll bring Tom up this evening, as he should be on a ward by then, I said.” Debbie replied.
Sue pursed her lips. “I