Page 4 of Mercy Written in Blood

Akiko exhaled. The theatre doors opened and an anaesthetist hurried in, followed by an operating department practitioner.

"Are we moving?"

"We're moving."

Renji kept one hand inside the patient's chest as the bed was unlocked from the floor. The team pushed through the corridor at speed. People flattened themselves against the walls to let them pass; a porter pulled a cleaning cart aside; two medical students stared as the open chest crossed their path, then quickly remembered to move. The lift was waiting — cleared for them before Renji asked.

Inside, Akiko glanced at his hand.

"You realise most surgeons prefer to wait until theatre before holding a patient's heart?"

"Most surgeons lack ambition."

"Most surgeons possess common sense."

"That explains why they rarely achieve anything interesting."

Aoi gave a short laugh from behind the transfusion equipment. The sound eased something in the lift, and Renji felt it happen and allowed it. Fear made people clumsy; a few seconds of levity did not lessen the seriousness of what they were doing.

The doors opened directly onto the surgical floor. They moved again.

Three hours later, Renji stepped away from the operating table. The patient's abdomen remained open beneath sterile drapes, but the bleeding had slowed to a manageable ooze. The damaged section of liver had been packed, the ruptured splenic vessels controlled; vascular surgery had repaired the largest pelvic bleed while orthopaedics stabilised what they could. The young man was not safe — safety was still far away — but he was alive. For now, that had to be enough.

Renji stripped off his outer gloves.

"Leave the packs in place," he said. "Temporary abdominal closure. We'll reassess once his temperature and coagulation improve."

The surgical registrar nodded.

"Take him directly to intensive care. No delays in recovery."

"Yes, Doctor."

Renji looked towards the anaesthetist.

"Call me if his lactate rises again."

"I'll call you if he so much as looks unhappy."

"Good."

Renji stepped back from the table. Only then did he notice the ache across his shoulders. His scrubs clung damply to his back, and there was a tightness behind his eyes that suggested he hadbeen awake longer than was sensible. He could not remember when he had last sat down.

Akiko appeared beside him as they left theatre.

"You need coffee."

"I need the relatives."

"You need both."

"The relatives first."

"They've been told he made it out of surgery."

"They haven't been told what that means."

Akiko pulled off her surgical cap, damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead.