Page 3 of The Cauldronball Run
Licensed paramedic/EMT needed for high-priority medical transport from New York to Los Angeles and back again in quick turnaround time frame.Must be willing to drive at fast speeds.Must be comfortable with unconventional situations.Discretion essential.15,000 gold for no more than five days' work.Serious inquiries only.
He stared at the completed ad.It looked like exactly what it was—a desperate attempt to recruit someone for something sketchy without actually admitting to the sketchy part.
This is insane,he thought.I'm a responsible EMT with three jobs and a spotless record.I save lives for a living.
His phone buzzed with another overdue payment notice.Your payment is now 15 days overdue.
He had worked his ass off for medical school, taken on crushing debt to better himself, spent three years working multiple jobs just to stay above water.He followed every rule, respected every protocol, and he was still drowning.
What had responsibility ever gotten him besides loneliness and debt?
The memory of yesterday's shift supervisor pulling him aside still stung."Look, Grimjaw, I know you mean well, but Mrs.Henderson from room four complained again.Says you're too intimidating, makes her nervous.Maybe try to be more approachable."
Approachable.He was seven feet of green muscle with tusks.The only thing that made him approachable was distance.
But that wasn't the worst part.The worst part was watching his human partner get credit for saves that J.J.had made, seeing other EMTs get promotions he'd been passed over for, knowing that no matter how good he was at his job, he'd always be seen as the monster in scrubs.
J.J.hit publish before he could talk himself out of it.
The response came so quickly he wondered if it was spam:
I'm a licensed paramedic with five years of experience in emergency medicine.I have a spotless driving record.I'm available immediately and comfortable with unconventional situations.Can we meet tomorrow to discuss details?- F.Moonbeam
He read the email three times.Someone had actually responded to his crazy ad.Someone with medical credentials and a name weird enough that they might not run screaming when they met him.
He typed back carefully:Meet me tomorrow at Mel's Diner off I-95 at 2 PM.I'll be the big guy in the EMT uniform at the corner booth.I’m J.J.
His finger hovered over the send button.Tomorrow he'd either have a partner for the most dangerous thing he'd ever attempted, or he'd spend five minutes watching someone's face change from professional interest to barely concealed terror when they realized what he was.
Story of my life, he thought, and hit send.
J.J.pulled back onto the highway, already pushing seventy in a fifty-five zone.The cops knew his ambulance by sight.The EMT badge and the emergency transport excuse had gotten him out of more tickets than he could count.It helped that most officers considered a seven-foot orc in medical scrubs either reassuring or terrifying enough not to argue.
Three days until the Cauldronball Run.Three days to fake medical paperwork, convince a complete stranger to commit federal crimes, and convince himself that his modified ambulance would keep up with actual professional street racers.
But for a quarter million gold and the first real chance at freedom since he'd graduated med school?
J.J.Grimjaw was willing to risk it all.
Even if it meant lying to someone desperate enough to answer his sketchy ad.
