Sonora is back and is looking at me out of her dark eyes in a strangely searching way before she sits down on one of the cardboard stools. Does she have any idea what just went through my mind?
Probably not, because no one has for a long time.
I watch my roommates one after the other. June, who loosens her ponytail with a grin. Sonora, who is still eyeing me from the corner of her eye as if she were searching my expression for the answer to an urgent question. Autumn, who lets herself sink cross-legged onto the not exactly clean floor and smooths her red bangs. Olive, who pushes the plastic cover of the sofa aside and pats the seat cushion before sitting down.
They all believe I’ve put the worst behind me, and logically speaking, that’s true.
Not only as doctors but also as my friends, they know the path I’ve taken. They know about the hard nights, the heavy days, the anxious hoping and the ever-present fear that surrounds people with life-threatening illnesses like tenacious banks of fog that refuse to lift.
What they don’t know, however, is what it feels like to go on afterwards. How hard it is to feel free in your new life, how deeply fear can dig in its claws, how much it controls every step you take.
They all eat pizza without a second thought, run marathons, dream of their careers, of children, of a fulfilled life. There is nothing I want more than to belong with them. I want to dance and laugh out loud while I do it, eat fast food, climb mountains, lie in the sun, go to concerts.
I want to be kissed and feel boundless while it happens.
‘You know what?’ June lets her gaze wander around the circle.
‘Wha?’ Autumn asks with her mouth full.
A warm smile steals onto June’s face. ‘I think this is going to be amazing,’ she says, and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be able to look into the future as carelessly as she does.
Chapter Two
JADEN
An adrenaline rush starts like an electric shock shooting through your body. Hot and unstoppable. The landscape beyond the car window snaps into razor-sharp focus, colours explode with intensity, sounds are clearer, thoughts faster.
I feel my heart, feel how the car takes the bend, the centrifugal force, every inch of my skin. There is only the next movement, the next breath, the next decision.
The life that needs saving.
‘3-4-2, this is Central. What’s your status?’ crackles the radio.
I grab the device. ‘Five minutes to the scene.’ Wherever that is. The road we’re racing along ends in any case in a few hundred meters.
‘Over there!’ Ray points to a narrow track that winds further in the direction of the coast. On the rocky ground it’s barely visible; only the missing moss suggests tire tracks. ‘We have to go this way.’
Alex yanks the steering wheel around and jerks sharply left, my shoulder slamming into the car door. The tires bump along the track, I hold on tight and still get tossed violently back and forth. Every fiber of my body is on high alert.
‘Step on it,’ I shout to Alex; every second counts.
She accelerates as much as she can. ‘The track won’t let me go any faster,’ she replies, her gaze fixed intently on the winding path.
When the emergency call came in twenty minutes ago, the patient was still breathing. But that can change any second, and if his brain is without oxygen for too long, it will have far-reaching consequences. Far worse than a few scratches on the rims or the undercarriage of our vehicle.
Sometimes it’s a matter of seconds.
Seconds our patient may no longer have.
‘The man’s life is in danger!’ I remind Alex, even though I know she’s well aware of that.
Ray rubs his blond full beard and mutters something unintelligible to himself. My gaze flicks again to the tablet in his hands, which shows the details of our call.
‘We should be seeing a trailer and a barn any moment now,’ Ray says.
‘There’s nothing there.’ Alex stretches to try and make something out despite the winding track. ‘No, wait, I see something.’
Yes, there’s a half-collapsed shed. That must be 27 Church Road. Finally!