She could barely stand on her own, but she was determined to take care of me.
Someone pushed a bottle into my right hand.
I spilled as much as I drank as I chugged the bottle down.
I was about to chastise myself for not saving some for Madi, but John was helping Madi drink her own bottle.
She was significantly less greedy and messy than me.
“You need a doctor.” I didn’t recognize my own voice.
She looked at my arm. “You need one more than me.”
“Oh, for the love of God, you both need a doctor and you’ll both see one as soon as you let us help you into the ambulances,” one of the paramedics said.
“Ambulance,” I corrected him. “We go together.”
“Fine,” the paramedic sighed, “Just get in the bus.”
We irritated our saviors even more by arguing over who’d ride on the gurney until John stepped in. “Madi, get your ass on the gurney.”
Not wanting to deal with the logistics of the paramedics disarming me, I asked John to take my gun and holster as we watched the paramedic assist Madi onto the gurney.
With IVs in our arms to rehydrate us, the paramedics checked the extent of our injuries, treating what they could, as we drove to the hospital.
Chapter 43
Madi
Ihurt.
As my adrenaline subsided, pain flooded my system.
Everything hurt.
Inside and out.
My lungs, nose, and throat.
My arms, legs, and chest.
I lifted my arms.My wrists are shredded.
I touched my cheeks and felt bandages.
Tears filled my eyes as my body started to tremble.
The small tremors quickly escalated to full on shaking as panic joined the pain.
“Help her.” A gruff voice penetrated the pain induced fog in my mind.
“The morphine should kick in any second now,” a calm voice answered.
And it did. Taking my consciousness with the pain.
I woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by white walls and beeping machines. The air tube in my nose supplied a steady stream of clean air, no doubt oxygen rich, and the IV in my arm probably provided steady doses of morphine based on my pain-free state.
My eyelids still felt more like sandpaper than flesh as they blinked over my eyes.
