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Chapter 1 - The Crash Meet
“Sir,sir,canyouhear me?” I call out to the man trapped inside the vehicle. The airbag had deployed. He’s restrained by his seatbelt and remains motionless covered in blood.
Wearing gloves, I reach in and feel for a pulse. It’s faint but steady. “Can you hear me? You’ve been in a car accident, sir. We’re going to get you out of here and take good care of you. Can you tell me your name?”
His lips quiver, but no sound emerges. Blood covers everything, so it’s difficult to determine the source of the bleeding. I push aside the deflated airbag to get a better look. That’s when I catch sight of a gun holstered at his side. I recoil at the sight of it, but then remember I’m here to perform my job.
From above, I hear rustling and see Brian, the EMT assigned for tonight’s ride along, making his descent.
“What’ve we got here?” he asks, carrying a stretcher board and neck brace. “Are they alive?”
“Yes, I’ve got a steady pulse on a white male, adult, early thirties. I can’t determine the extent of his injuries until we can get him out of here.” I touch the man’s face gingerly, his eyes are mere slits. He blinks when I shine the little flashlight into them. “Pupils are equal and reactive.”
Brian peers in at him and then examines the door. “Damn, looks like we’ll need the jaws on this one. Sweet ride though, hope to hell he had insurance.”
“We need to get him out of there, quick,” I say forcing him to focus. Jeez, men and their cars.
Brian hurries off to retrieve the hydraulic scissors that will rip the door off like the lid off a tin can.
While I wait for Brian, I reach over and grip the driver’s left hand. His eyes flicker open as if startled, and they fix upon me with great intensity before they slide shut. But not before I saw their fierce anger, followed by the subsequent relief that I wasn’t…who? Is the gun for protection?
“Sir, can you squeeze my hand?” I grow anxious at his lack of response, fearing he’s slipping into unconsciousness. But then I feel the slight pressure around my fingers. “All right, good job. Now can you tell me your name?”
His eyes open a fraction and his gaze slides over to me as his lips move. “Se…Sebastian.”
“Sebastian, very good,” I say as pleasantly as I can muster. “Sebastian, can you tell me where it hurts? Any neck, hip, or back pain?”
He grimaces. “All…over.”
“Okay, we’re going to take good care of you,” I say, still gripping his hand. “But first we need to get you out of the car. Okay?”
Sebastian manages to groan a response, but at least he’s still conscious. I glimpse Brian making his way back over carrying the portable engine and the hydraulic scissors to cut through the crushed door. Thank God this EMS attendant is built like a linebacker.
I’ve got to prepare my patient for the noisy machine.
“Sebastian, you’re going to hear a really loud noise, don’t be alarmed. It’s the engine that powers the hydraulic device to get you out safely. You ready?”
He groans in the affirmative, turning to me. His eyes are piercing blue sapphires when they connect with mine. I give him a small smile to reassure him.
I signal Brian to let it rip. He fires up the portable engine and hauls over the heavy cutting tool. At about that time, the flashing blue and red lights of a patrol car come into view and we hear car doors slamming. A few seconds later, we see two officers with flashlights making their way down the embankment toward us. Brian makes steady progress in cutting through the door.
“Hi, Officer Reilly and Officer McKenna here,” says the older one in a brief introduction before he crouches down for a closer look at the wreckage. “What do we have here? Geez, almighty.” He turns to look at me. “Is he alive?”
“Yes, I think he’s going to make it,” I reply, willing Brian to hurry.
“You running the tags?” Reilly says to McKenna.
“Yeah, I got it,” he turns the tablet screen toward McKenna. “It’s him, or his car anyway.”
I turn to look at them. They know this guy?
“As soon as he’s talking.” O’Reilly says sternly, “We’ll want to have a word with him.”
Instinctively, I go on defense. The care of my patient is all that concerns me. “Look, the man’s been in a horrific accident, can you give him a minute?”
O’Reilly and McKenna exchange looks. “Do you have any idea who this is?”
“Yeah, he’s my patient,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.
