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I turn to find the chief, and searing pain lances up my side, making me groan. I open my coat and look down, finding blood soaked all the way through my shirt.
“Ah shit,” I mumble. I look around and find Taylor helping with an oxygen mask. When he’s done, I call him over.
“What’s up, Cap?” he asks, walking over to me.
I open my jacket. “Can you help me out with this?”
Sticking out of my right side is a metal shard from the building. My shirt around it is torn and soaked red. Now that I know it’s there, it hurts like a bitch.
“Jesus. Get in the ambulance.” Taylor yells for one of the medics to come help me up into the ambo.
“Hey, Chief, I’ve got a hunk of metal sticking out of my side, so I’m headed to the hospital with my vic,” I call through my radio.
“Christ, Tucker. Okay, keep me updated.”
“Copy.”
Once the boy is secure inside with me, we take off towards the ER. The sirens blare as Taylor presses gauze around the shard to try and stop the bleeding.
“What’s the status of the kid?” I ask.
“He’s got significant smoke inhalation damage and burns on his extremities. Most of them aren’t too bad, but there is a few second and third degree.”
I nod my head in thanks. My side is burning and feels like hot glass is poking my insides.
We pull into the hospital ER bay, and they roll the little boy out of the ambulance. Taylor hollers to the doctors to get me a gurney as well. I hate that I need it, but there’s no way I’d be able to walk into the ER no matter how much my pride demands it.
He helps me onto the gurney after they roll it up, and then I’m pushed into the ER behind the kid.
“If possible, can you get me next to the kid? He was awake when I saved him. It might be good to have a familiar face nearby if he wakes up.”
“You got it, honey,” the nurse says. She’s in her late fifties if I had to guess, and her silver hair is cropped short.
I’m wheeled into a room, a curtain separating my room from the kid’s. I can hear the doctors moving around in there, calling out for the items they need. I hope he’s okay and will be able to recover from this.
A doctor comes waltzing in and snaps on his gloves. I roll my eyes at his theatrics. He seems like an asshole, and I hate him immediately. I’d like to say I’m being dramatic but after my childhood, I have a pretty good indicator for douchebags.
“Let's see what I can do for you, man,” he says, and I just grunt at him.
“Ah, big intimidating fireman, I see.” I bite my cheek to keep from snapping at him and only because he has the ability to make this hurt twice as much as it should.
He starts looking at my wound and tells the nurse what he’s going to need. She wheels in a cart with multiple instruments on it. All of which are foreign to me.
“Okay, it doesn’t look like it’s hit anything major; we're going to give you some pain meds so this doesn’t hurt as bad, then we’ll pull it out and sew you up.”
I nod my head at him in the hopes he’ll go away. Cocky bastard.
I pull my phone out and send a text to the chief, letting him know I’ll be here a while and that I’ll be on meds, so I won’t be able to come back on shift. His response says they were able to get the fire out and it didn't spread any farther, which is good news.
“Can you get an update on the kid? I pulled him from the fire and want to make sure he’s okay,” I ask the nurse who’s been preparing the room.
“Yeah, give me a second.”
“Thanks.” A minute later, she comes back into the room.
“Looks like they have him on oxygen to help with the smoke damage, but they’re not too worried about it. He’s got second and third-degree burns on his arms and legs, but they’re only in parts, so they’re hopeful he’ll be all right. They’re going to keep him for the next few weeks to make sure the wounds heal properly and don’t get infected.”
“Okay, thank you.”
