1
HAYLEY
“Sure is quiet tonight, isn’t it?”
Hayley Milton froze in her tracks, going from passing the central desk in the Oakridge ER at a brisk trot to becoming a statue of horror as the words processed through her brain.Did he just…?Slowly, her head turned to face the intern who had uttered The Forbidden Phrase.
She wasn’t alone. Every single Oakridge Hospital employee within earshot from medical professionals to cleaners and orderlies had turned to stare at the intern as well, making the young man blush tomato red and begin to squirm in place. Even a few patients over in chairs looked nervous.
Hayley cleared her throat. “What… did… you... say?”
The intern—Patrick Butler, one of the surgical trauma interns, she recalled—ran a nervous hand through his spiky blond hair. “Um, it, it seems?—”
Hayley held a hand up as everyone around them sucked in apprehensive breaths. “Don’t say it again, Doctor Butler. Once will unfortunately be more than enough.” She sighed and lifted her head to address the room. “Batten down the hatches, everyone. It can happen anytime in the next couple of hours.”
The hospital staffers scattered, scuttling off like nervous crabs. The patients in chairs who were watching the goings-on remained where they were, but with a more palpable aura of anxiety than they’d had before The Forbidden Phrase had entered the atmosphere. At the desk, Hayley was left with Dr. Butler. “Nurse Hayley,” he began, but closed his mouth immediately as she shook her head.
“You have doomed us, Doctor Butler,” Hayley informed him, pulling the hair elastic out of her honey-blonde bun so she could tie it up more tightly in preparation for the inevitable trauma onslaught. “You said the one thing we are never,everto say in an emergency department. Perhaps the night hasn’t been overwhelmingly busy thus far.” She wrapped her hair into a tight knot and stretched the elastic band around it. “Because you said so, however, it will now become a nightmare for the emergency department, the trauma team, and for my ICU.” Hayley patted the pockets of her black scrubs, making sure she had lip balm, a couple of ink pens, a penlight, and hand sanitizer at the ready.
“I was just making an observation,” Dr. Butler pleaded, his blue eyes round as gumballs.
Forcing her mouth up into a tight smile, Hayley grabbed the young would-be trauma surgeon by both of his upper arms. “That is one observation you never, ever make out loud, Doctor Butler. But buck up. There’s always one person in an intern class that makes the same mistake you just did. You’re in…” She paused, wondering what to say. “…company. You’re in company.”
“Good company?” Dr. Butler asked hopefully.
“Um, just company.” She patted his arm and let him go. There was a whole checklist of things she kept in mind for occasions when some green intern or thoughtless attending said the night had been quiet. She had to count beds, see if anyone scheduled to be moved out of the ICU could go a little earlier,make sure they had all the supplies they needed, and think of something she could do for her staff if and when the flood of disaster eventually ebbed.
Of course, there was always every chance The Forbidden Phrase wouldn’t actually result in an avalanche of trauma, but in Hayley’s long years of experience as an ICU nurse, it always did. So, better to be prepared in any case.
On her way to the ICU, she noticed one of her navy-blue sneakers was untied. Hayley knelt down in a corridor to remedy the situation, making sure she was out of the way of any passing people or gurneys. Her fingers flew to secure her lace, and then she stood up, preparing to look both ways into the stream of people in the corridor so she didn’t run into anyone.
Just as she took her first step, she was all but bowled over by a white lab coat in a real hurry, finding herself hip-checked into a nearby gurney. “Hey!”
The doctor who had run her over spun around briefly, her long, curly black ponytail swinging. “Sorry,” she said breezily as she twirled back around. “Be more careful in traffic.”
Hayley blinked in disbelief at the cavalier victim-blaming. But was it a surprise? This was not the first time she had found herself under the treads of Dr. Deborah Morales’ Nikes. The head of Emergency Medicine barrelled through the hospital like she’d never heard of the concept of a casual stroll. She also never watched where she was going, always believing it was the job of slower movers to simply assume she was coming at all times and to stay out of her way. She was incredibly attractive—and tall, dark, and gorgeous she was exactly Hayley’s type—but since the first day she’d rolled up to Oakridge on her Kawasaki motorcycle, she’d annoyed the hell out of Hayley with her blatant recklessness.
Rubbing her hip where she’d bumped it on the gurney railings, Hayley grimaced.That’s gonna leave a mark. No sensedwelling on it, though. She had things to do. There would be time later to track down Dr. Morales and give her a piece of her mind. Not that it would make a difference; it never did. She would just feel better for getting her irritation out. As long as she remembered to turn and walk away before Dr. Morales rolled her eyes at her, she’d feel like she got the upper hand.
But first, there was an incoming disaster to prepare for. Hayley shook herself, drew her shoulders, and headed for her ICU to get everyone ready.
It took less than an hour for all hell to break loose.
One semi out on Santa Monica Boulevard later—where it wasn’t supposed to be at all in the first place, let alone careening out of control into the intersection with Wilshire, taking out cars and trucks like bowling pins—and Hayley was getting run off her feet in the Emergency Room, working alongside the ER docs and nurses to quickly assess which patients should immediately come to her department for extended care.
There was a dizzying array of injuries, burns and broken bones and scrapes and head wounds and organs she shouldn’t be seeing on display. The semi driver had been whisked directly into surgery by Laura Foster and her trauma surgery team as soon as he arrived with a ghastly crushed-in chest. One by one, other victims were dispatched around the hospital, whether for surgery, ICU admission, examinations, or admission onto one of the floors for specialized attention.
Hayley finished helping with an assessment that ultimately wound up being surgical and moved on to the next trauma bay to see if she could lend a hand. Paige Bellows looked up, tendrils of her brown hair that had escaped from her ponytail flying aroundher harassed face. “Hayley, thank God. Can you come push 10 milligrams of epinephrine to this guy while I continue my exam?” She pushed back her flyaways and offered the man in the bed a reassuring smile as she moved her hands to his abdomen. “Tell me what you feel when I press here.”
“Pressure,” the man gasped out, his face contorting. “Ouch! Ten! Ten!”
“Ten on the pain scale, and cool to the touch compared to the surrounding area,” Paige murmured to Wren Miller, the emergency medicine resident standing next to her. Wren noted this down on her tablet while Paige frowned. “Mr. Fleury, is it tingling or burning in addition to the pain?”
“Yes,” he replied, his brow sweaty and his face still creased with pain. “The steering column really hit me hard.”
Paige nodded. “Let me consult with my colleagues here.” She beckoned Wren and Hayley outside of the trauma bay and kept her voice low. “Well, it’s not good.”
“Acute abdominal compartment syndrome?” Wren asked, tapping through the notes on the tablet.
