TWO BIRDS

by Vicki Tyley

Daniel Abbey crouched on the kitchen floor, his broad frame shading his wife from the late afternoon sun streaming through the window behind him. He sensed movement and reeled.

His sister-in-law Leah Jensen stood rooted in the doorway, her eyes and mouth wide in shock.

He gasped, the cloying mix of perfume, blood and adrenaline catching his throat. The knife flew from his hand and clattered to the floor.

“Don't just stand there. Call an ambulance,” he screamed, at the same time clamping his hands over the wound, desperate to staunch the blood flow.

A gurgle sounded from deep in his wife’s chest.

Leah remained frozen in the doorway. Daniel leapt to his feet, his hands and shirt covered in his wife’s blood. He pushed past Leah, shoving her out of his way as he grabbed for the phone.

“Emergency. What service do you require? Police, Fire, Ambulance?”

He dropped to his knees, the legs of his work trousers mopping the blood pooling from his wife’s upper abdomen. “Ambulance.”

The operator connected him. Seconds later he rattled off his name and address, barely pausing for breath. “Hurry.”

“Please stay on the line, sir. An ambulance is on the way. What is your wife’s name?”

“Kristine. Kristine Abbey.”

“Can you tell me if Kristine is conscious?”