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I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing. Short, shallow breaths that didn't aggravate the broken ribs.
In and out. Stay conscious.
Joy.
I needed to get to Joy.
The sirens were louder now. Close enough that I could distinguish between ambulance and fire truck.
I blinked, and then I saw a paramedic looking through the spider-webbed windshield at me. Had I passed out?
“Sir? Can you hear me? We're going to get you out of there.”
I tried to nod, but the movement sent lightning bolts through my skull.
“Joy,” I managed to whisper. “Danger. Must get to her.”
“Sir, you need to stay still. You've been in a serious accident.”
“Brake.” I shuddered and blinked. I opened my eyes and saw the paramedic talking to someone else. “Brake. Not accident.”
The paramedic's expression sharpened. He said something to his partner that I couldn't make out. Then he was back at the windshield.
Everything after that became a blur of activity. The Jaws of Life peeling back the truck's roof like a tin can. Careful hands stabilizing my neck. Then I was floating. There was an ambulance. God, every bump in the road sent fresh waves of agony through my chest.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, catching fragments of radio chatter. Broken ribs. Possible pneumothorax. Concussion. Dislocated shoulder.
Bright lights. I was in a hospital. I was being wheeled again, and the lights got even brighter. Doctors and nurses swarmed around me, calling out medical terms I didn't understand.
“Sir, we need you to stay awake. Can you tell me your name?”
“Graham Wallace. Navy. Serial number—”
“Graham, you're not in the Navy anymore. You're in Tennessee. LeConte Medical Center. You've been in a car accident.”
Right. Car accident. Brake lines cut.
Joy.
“My girlfriend. Need to call her. She's waiting for me.”
“We'll take care of that. Right now, we need to focus on getting you stable.”
A needle slipped into my arm.
“Wait,” I slurred. “Need to talk.”
“Graham, we need you to stay still while we work on you.”
“Where’s Joy? I need to see…”
Whatever they gave me made the pain recede to a manageable level, but it also made thinking harder. The world took on a dreamy, disconnected quality.
Someone was calling my name. Not the doctors. A different voice.
“Graham! Jesus Christ, what happened?”
Simon. Simon was here.
