Below the Belt(51)

“What the hell do you think the problem is?” Higgs asked as they walked over to get their bags. He glanced around and sighed. “Shit. Where did I leave my shirt?”

The female training intern waved her hand. “I draped them all over the fence there, so they’d dry.” She batted her eyelashes. “But if you just want to keep it off, you know, for ventilation purposes, that would probably be best.”

Higgs smiled absently, then walked with Brad to get their shirts. “Is it a bad sign that she makes me feel old? It’s like jailbait or something.”

“Technically, I doubt she’s jailbait. She’s gotta be at least twenty, but I know what you mean.” Brad grabbed his shirt, but didn’t put it on. The thing was still wet. All draping it over the fence had done was to make it wet and hot. He grimaced as he balled it up and tossed it in his bag. He was definitely going to need another laundry night sooner than later.

Of course, with the way he and Marianne had used the washing machine when it hit the spin cycle the night before . . . laundry was hardly a burden. He grinned at the thought.

“Wanna grab some tacos?” Higgs asked as they walked to the stadium benches. The MPs were there already, speaking to the first two Marines. “This shouldn’t take long. I was hoping to eat at least seven of those, then take a good two-hour nap.”

“The nap sounds good. Tacos, though, sound revolting.” He gagged as Higgs made a sound of deliciousness and rubbed his stomach. “Seriously, we just ran like nine miles, and you’re going to throw taco meat in that gut?”

“Tacos are a gift from God. Don’t judge.” Higgs let his bag drop to the ground. “I’m about to lose another one.” He nodded toward the Marine by Marianne, who was now draped with several more washcloths, over his shoulders and neck. She was speaking to the male intern, who nodded rapidly and sprinted for the gate.

“One of yours, then?”

“Yup. He wasn’t going to make it either way. His attitude sucked and he cut corners. But that doesn’t look good.”

Even as they watched, the Marine slumped farther until Marianne called Nikki over to help lay him flat out. The stadium bleachers grew quiet as they watched Marianne dunk a full towel into one of the tubs of ice water—which had been refilled at least once by the interns—and drape it over the Marine. Another quiet minute passed while she repeatedly dunked washcloths into the icy water, then placed them under his armpits and around his neck, even stuffing a few down the guy’s shorts.

He heard the distant ambulance wail, and he wondered how they’d gotten there so quickly. The hospital was at least ten minutes away—maybe six or seven minutes with no traffic and traveling with their lights running. Then he realized she must have called them before just now. She knew what she was doing. She’d seen the heatstroke coming before it hit.

The entire group, coaches included, watched while the medics hopped out, loaded the Marine onto the stretcher, and took him. Marianne sent Levi on with them, shouting a few instructions before watching them leave, hands on her hips.

He could see, even from behind, that her posture spoke of anger. He wasn’t sure who she was angry at, though.

“Damn,” Higgs whispered. “Hope he’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” Brad murmured, but he acknowledged even then, he was hoping just as much for Marianne’s sake as he was for the Marine’s.





CHAPTER


15


She fought back the tears. For an hour, while she spoke to the MPs, while she spoke to the coaches, while she spoke to her supervisor and finally while she made the call to the base hospital to check on her heatstroke Marine.

But the moment she heard he would be okay, she’d gone to her car, driven three blocks away, parked at the back of the commissary parking lot, and let the tears flow freely.

She let herself jag for a good ten minutes, then ordered herself to dry it up. He was going to be fine, and this was a hell of a learning experience—for her, and for the coaches and the athletes, too. As much as she hated thinking of it like that, she knew watching one of their own struggle with the heat would make the lecture she planned to give that much more impactful. She drove back to the gym, knowing she would find Coach Ace there. It was time to have a bit of a come-to-Jesus with him, and to accept part of the responsibility herself.

After a quick check in the flip-down mirror of her car and another minute spent with a cool water bottle over her eyes, she was ready to enter the dragon’s lair. She knocked on the door frame and waited until the large man’s head lifted. When he motioned her in, she sat down and waited for him to finish scribbling.

“Damn paperwork,” he muttered. “Every time I lose one, I’ve got reams of paperwork to shit out and hand back to someone. Makes me want to keep all of them just to avoid it.” When he put the final period on whatever form he was filling out, he did so with a vicious jab of the pen. When he looked up, he looked amused. “That’s a total lie. I wouldn’t keep some of these guys even if I had twice as much paperwork. So, Cook, I assume you’re here about Johnson.”

“Yes, Coach, I am. First off, I spoke to the hospital, and he’s doing okay. His temp is stable and his vitals are normal. They’re going to observe him a few more hours, keep him on the IV to make sure he’s hydrated then let him go.”