Page 2 of The Demon's Fire
Her feet lost contact with the deck. Her body stretched into a graceless dive. A rush of air cooled her face. She saw the ground rise as she fell toward it.
With the roar of an approaching train sounding in the distance, a prolonged, piercing scream rang in her ears. Later, she realized it had escaped from her own lips.
Then she heard nothing until she awoke in an ambulance heading for the ER.
A man bent over her, adjusting a blood pressure cuff on her upper arm, putting the stethoscope bell against her skin. When he inflated the band, it grew tighter. Still tighter. He released the air with aswoosh.
His lids flipped up, brown eyes studying her. “You’re awake. Good. Just don’t move around too much. You hit your head pretty hard.”
He turned to write something in a book. Probably her blood pressure.
Skyler inspected the blurry ambulance. The gurney jiggled with each bump in the road, making her aware they were traveling. How did she get here? She blinked a few times, wiggling her fingers. Lifting her arms was more difficult. Unable to rise, she took deep calming breaths to fight the panic bubbling inside her.
She cleared her throat and swallowed, her words slow, ragged. “What happened?”
“You had a nasty fall. From reports, some guy jumped down to drag you back onto the platform. If he hadn’t, you’d be gooier than the peanut sitting on the railroad track.”
“What?” she asked, her eyes slitting.
“You know, peanut butter.” He smiled at his joke.
Skyler was not amused. “I kind of remember falling, though I recall nothing afterward.” She touched the bandage on her forehead. “Ow!” Her arm flopped to her side. After a moment, she patted the surrounding area on the gurney. “Where’s my cellphone?”
“You can call people later. And don’t touch your head too much. You were bleeding a lot. We did a fast patch.” He shifted when the siren stopped blaring. “We’re here. Sit tight. We’ll get you out.”
After two guys lifted her stretcher from the ambulance, they wheeled her into the ER. Her memory was still fuzzy. They transferred her from the cart to a bed, followed by a flurry of activity. Someone shined a light into her eyes. The same person took her blood pressure again. A needle pricked her arm. The emergency medical team said goodbye as they wished her luck. The nurse instructed her to remain quiet while she waited for a doctor.
Then, the only sounds she heard came from outside the room. Soft-soled shoes padding up and down corridors. Beds wheeling to and fro. Voices shouting orders. Chit-chatting. Messages blaring over an all-call.
A woman wearing glasses, a stethoscope, a white coat, and clogs entered. “Okay, let’s see what’s wrong.” She scanned a chart. “What’s your name?”
“Skyler Maxwell.”
She waved a penlight in Skyler’s eyes, telling her to follow the light.
Pushing away the hand, Skyler said, “Find my cellphone. I must call my office.”
“Plenty of time for that later. We’ll assess the severity of your injury first. Tell me what happened.”
“I was waiting for the red line L at Fullerton Station when I fell onto the track.”
Skyler did not say someone pushed her. Though commuters rubbed shoulders, jostling each other in the crowd, she remembered two hands on her back before a shove off the edge. “The EMT said a man pulled me out of danger. If not for him, I would be dead. Now, I insist you hand me my purse.” Skyler eyed the name badge. “Dr. Longmer. And my cellphone. My office will want to know why I’m late.”
“Have you been ill or dizzy lately? Anything that might make you fall?” The doctor persevered.
“No.” Skyler struggled to sit. She glanced around for her leather bag before the room tilted.
“Not so easy to get up, is it?” Dr. Longmer watched, finally grabbing an arm to assist her.
Skyler twisted away from the woman, returning her head to the pillow.
“Your pupils are okay, but I still want a CAT scan. If all checks out, we’ll release you. The nurse will re-bandage the gash on your forehead. You should visit your regular physician to see if a medical issue caused you to fall. In the meantime, you can take acetaminophen, rest, and avoid strenuous activities. Let’s get you to radiology.”
“I don’t need a CAT scan. What I need is to sit still for a few moments before I call my office.”
Unfazed, the doctor breezed out, sending in the nurse to help Skyler out of her clothes and into a gown. Before she could voice another objection, the nurse stepped aside for an orderly who arrived to wheel her down the hall where a lab tech administered the scan.
With that out of the way, he returned Skyler to the room. She drummed her fingers on the mattress as the nurse wasted valuable time talking with someone in the corridor before sauntering inside to check wounds, slap on some medication, and re-bandage her forehead.
