CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Simon
Some days wereworse than others, and it turned out this day was one of the worst Simon had experienced in a long time: call after call with no time to decompress. It probably didn’t help that he had a lot on his mind, worrying about Patrick and the fact they hadn’t heard anything from the police in the two days since the break-in.
When the days were quiet they seemed to drag by and the guys were continuously looking at the clock, the hands moving so slowly that sometimes it felt like the end of the shift would never arrive. Today hadnotbeen one of those slow days, though. They’d been on one call after another, starting with a minor car accident, followed by an incident at a local high school where a student had had an anaphylactic reaction to something they’d eaten in the cafeteria. Then a retiree with a heart attack, then a workman who’d fallen from a ladder.
Simon and Josh, and the rest of the crew, had only just sat down to a long overdue meal, Simon swallowing a couple of mouthfuls of pasta in a simple sauce before he was dropping the fork into his bowl and pushing back from the table.
When the alarm sounded, Simon was grateful for the adrenaline that had him bounding to the truck. The surge gave his exhausted body the impetus to move, and move quickly he did, almost on autopilot. Simon started the engine as Josh, who was working with him that day, hauled himself into the seat beside him. Lights flashing and siren blaring, they followed the other vehicles out of the station and headed to the location given over the radio; a residential street about ten minutes away.
The buildings and streets flashed by until Simon put his foot on the brake, slowing their momentum. “Come on, move over, you damn idiot.” He thumped the heel of his hand on the steering wheel as he waited impatiently for the car ahead to move out of the lane and allow them to pass. He sounded the horn to draw further attention to them, but why that was even necessary, given the racket they were making, was beyond him.
“Why are people such idiots?” Josh asked, but it was a rhetorical question. They dealt with ignorance and selfish drivers on almost every callout, people who ignored the sirens and the lights, living in their own little worlds, most likely with their music blaring so they were completely unaware of anything around them. The ones that pissed Simon off the most were the people on their cell phones, oblivious to anything going on around them—not to mention the fact that cell phones, or more correctly, their reckless owners, were the cause of so many needless accidents. People needed to pay more attention on the roads.
Eventually the people in the small yellow hatchback seemed to realize the emergency vehicle was behind them and moved slightly to the right, allowing Simon to squeeze the truck through the small gap. Once it was clear of traffic, and it was safe to do so, he floored it, and a few minutes later they arrived at the scene.
Rescue were already there, and Simon and Josh joined them, laden down with their equipment. They were all clustered around a sedan that was backed at an angle against a midheight retaining wall that ran the length of a driveway.
“I didn’t mean it. I just got out of the car for a minute to open the garage door. I didn’t know he’d gotten out of the car, too. Is he all right? I thought I’d put the park brake on. IknowI put the brake on. Oh, Jesus.”
Simon gave the panicking man only a quick glance before checking out the patient. The sight that met his eyes took his breath away.
The child lying on the concrete driveway, partway under the car that was wedged against the wall, was only three or four years old. The little boy was wearing jeans and a red T-shirt with a racing car print on the front. His clothing was ripped and torn, with a dark tire tread mark marring the bright fabric of his top. For a moment, the small boy was replaced with an image of another little boy, this one about the same age but wearing a bright yellow sweater that had been knitted by his grandma. That sweater had Superman embroidered on the front, the little boy’s favorite superhero. Not that the red-and-blue figure was obvious, given the amount of red soaking through the yellow wool….
“Simon, are you okay, buddy?” Josh nudged his side, and Simon shook his head to clear away the thoughts—things he tried not to think about but that were now fighting in a jumble inside his head.
He swallowed heavily against the rising bile. “Yeah, sure. Sorry.”
“Someone’s got to help my son. Why are you all taking so long? Get him out of there!”
Simon focused back on the scene in front of him, trying to assess the situation. He took a couple of deep breaths.
You can do this. Be professional. This is what you’re trained for.
He looked to the man and spoke. “They’re moving as fast as they can, sir. We need to take all precautions to minimize harming your son any further.”
“Just tell them to hurry it up, will you,” the man snapped.
One of the child’s arms was grazed from elbow to shoulder, and there was an obvious bump on the boy’s forehead, the bruise already forming a dark shadow underneath his pale skin. The rescue team surrounding him prevented Simon from seeing any other possible injuries. As much as he itched to move forward, to get to the child, to assess him properly and start treatment as soon as possible, he stood back and let his colleagues do their work. He had to wait only another moment or two before they beckoned, indicating the child was clear, and they finally stood back to allow him and Josh to work.
The child had been placed on a spinal board and moved a couple of feet from the vehicle that had knocked him over and, by the looks of the tread mark, had run him over. Simon dropped to his knees and started his assessment, Josh working from the other side. The child was conscious but not crying, something that worried Simon. He looked at Josh and saw the same concerns reflected in his eyes. Sometimes a child crying and calling for their mother or father, no matter how distraught, was better than the dead silence of a child staring sightlessly while all the drama went on around them.
“Richie.” Simon glanced up at the shriek as a woman ran up the driveway and tried to get to the boy.
“Ma’am.” One of the rescue guys grabbed the lady around her shoulders and halted her progress. “You need to stand back and let the paramedics do their job.”
“Oh, my God! What happened to my baby? What’s going on? Is he going to be okay? Oh, my God, Richie.” She collapsed into the arms of the man who’d stopped her, folding in on herself as the tears flowed and the sobs increased. Simon tried to tune out both the hysterical crying and the calming words that were doing nothing to soothe the woman—not that that surprised him; Simon knew what it felt like to watch helplessly as someone you loved lay injured.Helplessly! What a fucking joke!He shouldn’t have been helpless. Simon had skills and training, he should have known exactly what he was doing—
“Simon!” He snapped his head up at Josh’s stern calling of his name.Fuck!Josh glared and his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Focus! We need to get this kid transported ASAP.”
Simon gave the kid—Richie—his full attention. He’d been distracted for only a moment, but that could have meant the difference between life and death. Between the two of them they rechecked the boy’s vital signs and burst into a flurry of activity.
“He’s in shock,” Simon said.
“Agreed. And from the looks of the tire mark, and his vitals, I’d say we’re looking at pelvic damage. I’m worried about internal bleeding.”
“Shit. The bump on his head looks nasty, too.”
Josh kept his voice low, as he glanced at Simon. “That’ll be the least of his problems if we don’t get him to the hospital soon.”
Simon rummaged through the equipment then looked across the prone body to where Josh was looking for a vein on the kid’s thin arm.
Simon shot a worried glance at the parents, who were now being held off to the side and comforted by what Simon assumed were neighbors or friends. “You think he’ll bleed out?” Simon asked in a whisper, not wanting the parents to overhear. Jesus, this whole thing was way too familiar. Déjà vu brought with it a sense of dread, the feeling settling like lead in his belly.
“Let’s just hurry,” Josh said, bending back to his task.
Josh prepared to give the kid fluids, while Simon focused on binding his pelvis to stop any movement. They adjusted the neck brace and nasal cannula, covering him in a blanket until finally he was prepared for transport.
They loaded the boy into the back of the ambulance. Josh followed him in and Simon helped the mother up into the back, before shutting the doors securely and making his way to the front of the vehicle. He only relaxed slightly when they arrived at the hospital and passed their young patient over to the staff at the emergency room. As he and Josh stepped clear of the hospital, he took what felt like his first full breath in hours.
