Page 102 of What Hurts Us

Cal tipped my chin up and kissed me. “Fly safe, Wonder Woman. Come home to me. I’ll be here tomorrow to carry you up to bed.”

* * *

“How was last night?”I asked Rah-Rah and Frodo as AB and I ran through the morning gear checks, making sure everything was in place for a flight before we settled in for the shift.

Rah-Rah folded her bedding and shoved it in her plastic storage bin. “Last night wasn’t bad. A transport in the afternoon and an MVC after dinner. Caught the tail end ofReal Housewivesand got a full night off sleep.”

I stood in the supply closet that was catty-cornered to the bunk room, filling my pockets with the instruments, tape, and bandages that I preferred to keep on my body. While we could carry almost everything we needed in the bird, moving around the small bay while wearing a clunky helmet when a patient was on the stretcher made searching through tiny storage compartments a nightmare.

I slid a pair of kelly clamps into my thigh pocket, then grabbed a handful of alcohol swabs.

“What was your transport?” I asked.

“An OD.”

Another overdose?It seemed like every shift, we had at least one. Men. Woman. Old and young. Rich and poor. High-roller executives and users who were destitute.

“Have a good one,” Rah-Rah said as she shouldered her bag. “I think we fly together next shift. AB’s going on vacation.”

I gave her a two-fingered salute. “See ya.”

Odin swapped out with the pilot who had been on shift earlier. Loki trotted over to his crate. I grabbed the bag of treats I’d picked up at the Falls Creek Filling Station and offered him one. He gobbled it down in two snarfs, not leaving so much as a crumb.

Paisley June Gilbert handmade the bone-shaped cookies with love and sold them at any spot around town that would stock them. The ones I had grabbed, along with my customary energy drink, were pumpkin flavored for the fall.

It was odd knowing things like who ran a dog-treat business or walking into The Copper Mule and having no less than ten people greet me. None of whom were employees.

I dropped down into a rolling chair and got to work. Twenty minutes later, my email inbox was clear, a message politely detailing my qualifications for a pay raise had been sent to the base’s business manager, and an incoming email noted that I had passed my TPATC course.

AB finished a walk-through of the helo while I put together a list of the inventory we were running low on. I pawed through the refrigerated case of drugs and added them to the sheet.

Business as usual.

AB headed for her bunk to grab a cat nap while I plopped down in the recliner beside Loki’s crate. I plucked the newest Whitney West book out of my bag and turned to the dog-eared page.

I had just gotten to the good part when tones dropped. While Odin responded, I begrudgingly set aside the sexy banter and made a quick trip to the bathroom.

Nothing like getting hung up at a scene in the middle of nowhere with a full bladder.

Odin confirmed that our crew was taking the request and jogged through the crew quarters, out to the hanger. While AB and I grabbed our gear, we regurgitated the information that we’d been given.

Female. Twenty-six years old. Approximately sixty kilos. A neighbor had called 911 about a possible domestic problem. When cops arrived, they found her hiding behind a couch in a pool of her own blood, sporting multiple stab wounds. EMS was en route, but without the ability to transfuse between the scene and the hospital, she wouldn’t make it. Cops had already started canvassing the area for the attacker.

We barely got off the ground before we landed again. The scene was a small house outside the town limits. Blue and red lights danced in the daylight. The skids hit the patchy brown grass. I yanked off my helmet and took in the mess.

This was the part of the job that I loved—the part I lived for. Dropping down in the middle of chaos and feeling completely calm. It was like surfing, like the moment you find yourself in the middle of a pipeline, surrounded by an unconquerable force of nature. When you come out the other side, you hear the crash, but in the middle—in the middle, there is only calm.

We moved on muscle memory, unloading the gurney and shouldering our bags.

Shane and Mia, an EMT fresh out of school, were on the scene.Thank goodness.

I would trust Shane with my life. After multiple tours in the Middle East as a combat medic, nothing fazed him.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Shane said as he kept a constant eye on her pulse. “Don’t know how long she was like this before the neighbor called it in.”

“Where’s the neighbor?” I asked as I started a line. The patient’s blood pressure was scary low. I hollered for AB to prep for takeoff. We needed to get her into an operating room STAT.

The radio on my shoulder chirped as Odin called ahead and updated the hospital intake team.

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