“What?”
“Created a monster who uses puns against me.”
Mike laughed as I flipped on the radio to drown out any other comments his sugar high wanted to lob out, but when Bing Crosby began to croon about a winter wonderland, Mike groaned and jabbed at the buttons to change the channel.
“I can’t believe they’re still blasting Christmas music in January. Didn’t they get the memo that Santa Claus already came to town, and all he brought me was a damn snow blower? When the hell am I gonna use a snow blower around here? I think my in-laws called in a favor.”
Chuckling, I brought my coffee up to my lips and blew softly, while Mike continued to flip through the stations until a country song began to play. He started to sing along, something about naming babies and dogs, which would normally have me eye-rolling him to death. But since his mouth was now otherwise occupied and he wasn’t digging for more information out of me, I didn’t bother putting up a fight to change the channel. Let him belt out “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” for all I cared. Until a call came in, my mind would be preoccupied by…otherthings.
A quick tone alert came through the radio, and I punched the music off as a call came through from dispatch.
“Unit 110, please respond Code 3 to the intersection of Mercer and Thomas on a multi-vehicle accident with injuries. Fire responding for possible extrication.”
I picked up the receiver. “Ten-four, Unit 110 en route. ETA less than two minutes,” I said, as Mike dropped the plastic bag on the ground at my feet and flipped on the lights and siren.
“Not how I’d want my day starting out,” he said, cutting through an intersection to make a left on Mercer.
“Saddle up,” I said. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long one.”
Traffic going east was already beginning to back up, the roads congested at the height of morning rush hour. Now with the accident up ahead and the cars unable to move to the side, Mike had to pull us into the suicide lane to get by. From theopposite direction, a backup unit, along with two police cars and a fire truck, veered toward the intersection, though it looked like we’d get there first.
I could see the smoke rising up ahead, and as we got closer, it seemed to be coming from beneath the hood of a black four-by-four truck that had smashed into a?—
“Oh shit… Ollie…” Mike’s voice trailed off as we both caught sight of the crushed passenger side of the car that had been T-boned. The crumpled car had been no match for the bigger vehicle; it looked like they’d skidded into the middle of the intersection during impact. The car’s hood punched up at an awkward angle with the truck half inside, and broken glass littered the road.
I’d seen the sight so many times before, but never had the breath left my lungs in a rush, never had a faint ringing sound filled my ears, and never had a wild sense of panic seized my chest like it did right then.
Because the mangled car, the one I was responding to, was none other than Reid’s bright red Mazda3.
two
IT’S STRANGE WHAT you remember in those seconds of pure horror. When the world goes into slow motion and everything as you know it has changed.
I remember Mike pulling us up close to the accident, my hand on the door before we had even rolled to a stop. I remember seeing the lights of the other responders out of the corner of my eye, almost there but not quite. We were the first, and in a situation where seconds could mean the difference between life or death, I knew I had to act—fast.
“Listen, why don’t you take over backup while I assist—” Mike started, but before he could finish that thought—and before we’d even fully stopped—I was jumping out of the rig and running toward the wreckage, the pounding of blood in my head all I could hear.
Smoke billowed out from beneath the truck’s hood, but I didn’t see a fire, and there were no gas leaks. Because of where the cars had landed, traffic had stopped in all directions, and barring a rogue asshole trying to maneuver around the accident, the scene would be safe from any more potential incidents, at least until the other emergency personnel arrived.
As I got closer, I could see just how bad of a shape his car was in, but it was the outline of Reid slumped over the wheel’s airbag that had my heart stuttering and the prayers starting.Oh God, please let him be alive. Please don’t let him die. Please help me.
The driver’s-side window was cracked with a smear of blood, but still intact, and I tried not to look at it as I lifted the door handle and found it locked. I wasn’t about to take the chance of breaking a window near him, and I needed to get to him fast, so I ripped out the blood pressure cuff from the bag I’d grabbed before exiting the ambulance. With my fingers, I jerked the top of the doorframe open enough to stick the cuff inside and then began to pump.
“Come on, come on,” I said, feeling the clock ticking down as Reid lay motionless inches away. As the cuff expanded, the door began to spread away from the car, giving me enough access to unlock the door with a thin rod and then wrench it open.
My heart beat faster than it had my whole life, but somehow my hands were steady as I drew on my gloves and then took a hold of Reid’s wrist, all the training and years spent in emergency situations keeping me grounded.
He had a pulse, thank God, though it wasn’t as strong as I would’ve liked and his breathing was shallow. But he was alive.For now.
“Reid?” I said, needing him to answer me, but there was no response.Fuck.“Reid, if you can hear me, I’m gonna get you out of here. I just need you to stay with me, okay? And don’t try to move.”
A groan emerged from his throat, as I quickly sliced his seatbelt apart and then began to take a visual assessment of his injuries. He had blood oozing from the gash on the left side of his skull, where it looked like the force of impact had thrown his head into the driver’s-side window, so there was definite head trauma, and possible neck and spine injury. There seemed to beno other major bleeding, though the damage I couldn’t see was always what worried me the most. Not to mention the smoke escaping from the hood of the truck made it hard to see or even breathe.
“What have we got?” Mike said from behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see he had the stretcher and cervical collar ready to go. One of the fire and rescue squad teams came to a stop behind us for backup, while the others went to the four-by-four to extricate the driver of the truck, who I could see was alert and trying to exit the vehicle by himself.
I rattled off Reid’s vitals as I unlocked the back door for Mike and then returned my focus to Reid. Mike climbed into the back seat, and together with the others, we began the complicated dance of getting Reid out of the car while keeping his spine stable.
“Slow…slowly,” I said to my team as Reid began to mumble incoherently. “I’ve got you, Reid. We’ve all got you.” And then to further soothe him, I began to explain what was happening. “You’ll feel several pairs of hands on different parts of your body right now, and that’s because we need to make sure we’ve got your spine immobilized while we get you out of the car.”