Page 62 of Call Out
The hairs on my head lift. “Oh yeah?” I do my best to sound casual.
“A witness said the vehicle veered off the road and hit a tree.”
I blow out a steadying breath. “Let’s go.” My hands tremble when I close the rear doors. “Did they swerve to miss another car? Is there another vehicle involved?” I say, jumping into the passenger seat.
“One vehicle, buddy.” Johnny reverses out of the bay and fires up the pulsating wail of our siren. “You okay?” He side eyes me before pulling out of the garage.
“I just hate traffic accidents.” Nerves rattle my voice. “Comes with the job.”
The high moon hangs over the sparse traffic ahead of us. As the ambulance picks up speed, moisture beads my spine. I adjust my collar, claustrophobic and lightheaded. This is what I’ve trained for. Medical emergencies. To save the lives of strangers who need a professional, calm manner and quick reactions. Exhaling, I break out of my inner struggle. These people need my help. Their lives depend on it.
“I’ll be right there with you while we do the scene assessment. It’ll be fine, buddy.” Johnny purposely applies his soothing tone. The same voice he uses when he’s calming injured kids. “We’ve got this. Once we start the primary survey, all your training will kick in. You’re only human. It’s normal to dread the nasty accidents. No one knows what we’ll find out there, but those people need us.”
I nod, wiping my palms down my thighs. “It’s all good. I’m a machine.” I pretend to be unnerved. “They're counting on us.”
Headlights slice darkness, illuminating a parked vehicle by the side of the road with hazards blinking. Beyond the parked car we can see a vehicle in the neighboring field.
The sirens cut out, giving way to an eerie silence that follows a wreckage. Johnny maneuvers the ambulance, parking as close to the collision site as he can. We exit in tandem and crank open the rear doors. Johnny grabs a flashlight and his medical bag, then pats me on the shoulder. I climb inside and gather up everything I need for a site survey. The soles of my boots thud the pavement mimicking my heartbeat. A man with sooty slick hair jogs up behind me.
“It just swerved. There was no reason for it to speed up. At first, I thought it was dodging a stray. The road was empty.”
Inky streaks arc the tarmac, highlighted by a silvery sheen. “Thanks for the information.” I continue to walk. Johnny has a head start, plowing over dry grass.
The bystander latches on my elbow. “The car was going so slow. I was about to pass it. Then it just...”
“Please return to your vehicle. Right now the victims are my priority. You can tell the police everything when they arrive.”
“I tried to help them.” The pale faced man scrubs his eyes as latex gloves stretch over my hands.
By the time I’ve jogged to the entry point, I see dust dancing in headlights and a Volvo similar to Viv’s. That harrowing resemblance scuttles down my spine like a clutter of spiders running free. She’s at home, decorating and eating pizza. Worry bristles my shins, and I stumble over loose stones. The closer I get, the more my stomach coils with dread. I shine the flashlight on the trunk. It’s the same dull shade.
“Danny!” Johnny navigates the terrain, his own flashlight bobbing and bouncing. “I’ve turned off the engine and checked for fuel leaks. They are both unconscious. I’ve called ahead for a second ambulance.” Fingers clamp my wrist. “I need you to take a deep breath, buddy. No matter what you see here, you have to focus.” His cadence is firm with a slight quake on the last word. “Look at me.” Johnny’s eyes drill into mine. “It’s Viv in there.”
Everything inside of me explodes. All the years of suffering, torment and guilt snake together, wrapping around my throat until I all but gasp for surrender. My veins run painfully cold then instantly turn to unbearable fire. Karma is trying to destroy the coveted future we both dreamed of fulfilling. Fate dropped the hammer and called out for Viv as punishment.
“You take Viv, and I’ll work with the other victim. Backup is coming. Help her, Danny.”
I shrug out of his grip and storm towards the crushed wreckage. Stones crunch under my shoes as I close the distance. Blood rushes inside my head, thundering as my heart works double time. Every heavy step pounds the dirt. Fear mutes the world around me when my eyes land on deflated airbags, Viv’s head lolled to the side and her pretty face mapped with hair and a wash of red.
“Viv?” Fear crackles in the stillness. “Can you hear me?” I tap her shoulder gently, cautious of any unnecessary movement. “Open your eyes for me, Viv.” My skin prickles. “C’mon, baby. It’s me.”
Horror feathers my vision when her lids remain shut. I blink away liquid terror, locating a slow pulse. Her breathing is shallow, as if her lungs want to give up. On quick inspection, there isn’t any fluid trickling from her ears and the gash on her head appears to be superficial. Finding a single scratch would break me, but this, this is too much.
Even though my knees weaken, I force myself to take control, to do everything in my power to save my girl.
Lit only by pale moonlight, Viv’s complexion is blanched and her lips ashen.
I’m both a paramedic and a boyfriend. First on the scene to assist and the guy adamant to take her home at the end. Seeing her like this, it squeezes out the very last drop of mental stability I have left. After checking her airway, I carefully secure her delicate neck with a collar and administer one hundred percent oxygen.
“Viv?” A slow pulse barely beats. Lashes fuss. I freeze and thaw at the sight of life. Worry aligns with relief. Silky strands of hair are coated in maroon where blood blooms from the side of her head. The plasma has congealed as if it’s been there for a while. “Can you hear me? It’s Danny.” I persist.
Sirens cry in the distance.
“Everything okay, Danny?” Johnny’s voice intercepts my intense secondary inspection of her skull. “Any serious injuries?”
“So far, a head injury,” I reply, laser focused on my patient. Beneath strands of settled hair, I see the black strap digging into her shoulder, thankful the aged seatbelt held her securely on impact. Nonna was looking out for my girl even from the heavens. “Yours?” I look up, expecting to see a woman from Blossom Grove and locate blonde scraggly hair and a face as white as snow. “Zoe?” Surprise catches a tremor in my tone. “Something’s not right here, Johnny.” Using my forefinger and thumb, I pry open Viv’s shuttered eyelids and shine the light on her pupils. Earthy tones of hazel are engulfed in obsidian. With quick exact movements, I run my hands over her body. “I don’t think this was an accident.”
“Do you know this woman?” Johnny scans Zoe’s body, both of us checking for broken bones and blood loss.
