Prologue
The ambulance maneuvered down the meandering road, its siren pounding the still, night air. Tyler Connell gripped the steering wheel tightly, the usual twinge of fear and anxiety racing through him. A golden strand of hair fell into Val Lanier's blue eyes as she bent down, settling in the passenger seat. Hank Beecham sat behind the two, gravity surmounting his face. Jaime Waite, leisurely rested in the shadows on the brown, leather seat, which lined the left side of the far back. Suddenly, the car screeched to a halt in the parking lot of a tall, broken down apartment building. The EMT squad quickly dispatched the ambulance, armed with first aide, a stretcher, and every bit of self-assurance they had within themselves. Hank led the three inside, Jaime tagging behind.
Alarming the civilians, they rushed up three sets of creaky stairs, but finally reached the third floor. Val studied the string of doors, which lay in front of her; trying to remember which room number she had been directed to go to. "Room 10!" She suddenly cried, sending her team members across the hall. Hank busted the door open and the four hustled into the small, apartment building.
A small, middle-aged woman was sprawled out on the carpet, her body frail and white. An older lady hovered over her, worriedly. "What happened?" Hank asked, rushing to the victim's side.
"I was coming to collect the rent," the stranger replied, "and I found her like this." Hank, Val and Tyler huddled around the helpless body, gently pushing the older lady out of the way. However, Jaime stood frozen in the entrance, his hands shaking uncontrollably. After assessing the situation, Tyler muttered, "Drug overdose." Jaime leaned against the rim of the doorway for support. His dark eyes studied the dim, miserable apartment in confusion. The squad didn't even notice his absence, too overwhelmed to realize he was about to faint. Jaime escaped to the cool hallway, collapsing on to the hard ground, propping his back against the wall.
Madison Graves