A.N. - Do not adjust your television set...It's really me! To all of my fellow lecterphiles - I'm sooooo sorry I've been all MIA. I missed you! I got so busy because I've been here there and everywhere doing everything all at once that I had to unsubscribe from the mailing list 'cause e-mail got clogged with so much and I stopped writing chapters and reading others...It's all very tragic , hehe. Anyway , I'm attempting to finish all of these things up 'cause I'm going off to St. Malo (France) for a long time to study French , and Internet access and comp access is gonna be shifty. So enjoy these last stories , and (something I haven't gotten to demand in toooooo long...) REVIEW!
"God , How did they get all the way out here?" One of the paramedic's , an old , middle-aged man in chest-high waders , questioned as he pushed his way through the knee high water.
"Must have been drunk or something. Got stuck before the storm came." The fireman at his side answered without much thought. The two men were descending into the water of the Mead Creek. The rest of their rescue team waited on the shore , an ambulance was waiting on the road not far away for the victim. This car , a small blue accord, had been spotted from the air in the river bed lodged against a tree. The water had been rising ever since last night's simple Thunder-storm had spiraled into patches of small tornadoes.
"I suppose," Leaning into the broken window , the paramedic looked over the woman grimly. She was crouched into the fetal position , arms securely over her head. "It's a woman. Must not have been too drunk , she knew what to do..."
He reflected outloud , reaching in to touch the exposed part of her neck gently. The team on the otherside chatted to each other quietly , all waiting with a stretcher for his word. The fireman was silent with a crowbar in his hands , obviously itching to use it and get out of the cold , quick water.
"She's alive. Give me that thing..."
Ever since Callandra had been a child , simply the thought of going to the Doctor had frightened the living daylights out of her. She used to crawl into the linen closet and sit amongst Mrs. Feline's kittens whenever Mama would threaten a shot or check-up. They'd pounce over her legs , mewing and whining for their mother and food until the noise was enough to attract Mama and Callandra was hoisted off for the Doctor anyway.
She'd cry and pout , even once trying to escape out the car door , until they got there and she received her chocolate. Afterwards , life was sweet and wonderful again , until the next trip.
Memories of such times seemed extremely evident in her subconscious mind as the men lifted her into the back of the cream-coloured ambulance. Residents on the road had gathered to watch their operation , though many had left after they saw the scene. Ever since she'd been removed from her car , Callandra had resorted to thrashing about , every now and then calling something rude or pleaying out to them in french , before going silent again.
"Keep her still , will you?" The paramedic that had pulled her from the car complained to the others that were attempting to hold her down while still being careful not to damage anything further. He was making a rather futile attempt to place an IV in her arm within the van. Their small , county hospital issued equipment did not include straps , much to the disappointment of all members.
"Aidez , Mama! Je suis desole..." Callandra called out one last time as the paramedic slid the needle in slowly. She fell back against her stretcher as though admitting to losing the battle somehow , the distressed look on her face remaining.
"Must have some brain damage , don't you think? I've never saw one act like that." One of the medics in the back remarked dryly , passing the head man that had been working on the IV a small kit.
"Possibly. Maybe that's just normal."
They all nodded their agreements silently , going back to various tasks. Up front , the driver was rattling away merrily on the radio. Callandra began to stir and each member watched wearily while they worked , careful for another outburst from the woman. She was slowly regaining consciousness , fighting through the barrier of the concussion such a crash had given her.
"Doesn't she look familiar to you?" One of the medics yawned out minutes later. They were approaching the outskirts of town now , and each was hopeful for a break from the runs they'd been given all night after the storm.
"How so?"
"I don't know...she just does. Not local though , you heard the crazy stuff that's been coming out of her mouth. Just familiar."
"Hey,I know!" One of the more silent and scrawny members of the group suddenly announced from the front , twisting around in the passenger seat to look at them. "She looks like that crazy chic that was killing people in New York! You think that's her?"
"Stephen , go back to your hole , they found and shot that woman days ago. Don't you ever listen to the news?"
Quiet again , the man turned around in his seat looking both embarrassed and angry. He heaved a heavy sigh like a child would and faced straight ahead. In the back however , amongst the triumphant grins of the paramedics , Callandra Knott was regaining her strength.
Slowly , her eyes flicked open. The ceiling of the van was immediately presented before her , and then the faces of the scraggly-looking men who lined the walls amongst medical equipment and machines. A shudder rippled through her body. She was in an ambulance.
"Hey , how old you think she is?" One of the men grumbled out , trying to complete the paperwork ahead of time. He looked across the ambulance to the head medic who looked down upon the face of Callandra , suddenly at as much ease as it had been minutes ago.
"Oh...I don't know...27? Yeah,put that down. Looks kinda old..."
Concussion or no concussion , the man had just violated one of the most sacred rules of this earth , and Callandra felt her blood boil. He'd called her old! The nerve of that hick...Him and his fleet of wannabe-southern-drawl farm boys out here calling her old...A scowl knitted over her features despite who was watching. Ignoring the headache that was launched into affect upon the light , she opened her eyes completely , glaring firmly at the man. Callandra began to sit up , feeling her limbs scream in protest. When she placed her hand on the stretched for support , the bones in her arm ached so terribly she was sure it was broken.
"Holy crap!" He exclaimed , surprised at so much movement from the formerly dormant woman.
"Don't worry. Be grateful. You , at least , won't be getting any older..."
A.N.-Alright. Having written that , I know it was short , and in my opinion a little hurried , but that is what I get for not writing in so long. This chapter was simply to bridge the gap in time between those former chapters and those to come. I'm estimating 2-3 more before this story is finally completed and I can finally celebrate , hehe. So don't flame me too harshly until you see what else is to come. Deal? Now , click on down to that little review box...
"God , How did they get all the way out here?" One of the paramedic's , an old , middle-aged man in chest-high waders , questioned as he pushed his way through the knee high water.
"Must have been drunk or something. Got stuck before the storm came." The fireman at his side answered without much thought. The two men were descending into the water of the Mead Creek. The rest of their rescue team waited on the shore , an ambulance was waiting on the road not far away for the victim. This car , a small blue accord, had been spotted from the air in the river bed lodged against a tree. The water had been rising ever since last night's simple Thunder-storm had spiraled into patches of small tornadoes.
"I suppose," Leaning into the broken window , the paramedic looked over the woman grimly. She was crouched into the fetal position , arms securely over her head. "It's a woman. Must not have been too drunk , she knew what to do..."
He reflected outloud , reaching in to touch the exposed part of her neck gently. The team on the otherside chatted to each other quietly , all waiting with a stretcher for his word. The fireman was silent with a crowbar in his hands , obviously itching to use it and get out of the cold , quick water.
"She's alive. Give me that thing..."
Ever since Callandra had been a child , simply the thought of going to the Doctor had frightened the living daylights out of her. She used to crawl into the linen closet and sit amongst Mrs. Feline's kittens whenever Mama would threaten a shot or check-up. They'd pounce over her legs , mewing and whining for their mother and food until the noise was enough to attract Mama and Callandra was hoisted off for the Doctor anyway.
She'd cry and pout , even once trying to escape out the car door , until they got there and she received her chocolate. Afterwards , life was sweet and wonderful again , until the next trip.
Memories of such times seemed extremely evident in her subconscious mind as the men lifted her into the back of the cream-coloured ambulance. Residents on the road had gathered to watch their operation , though many had left after they saw the scene. Ever since she'd been removed from her car , Callandra had resorted to thrashing about , every now and then calling something rude or pleaying out to them in french , before going silent again.
"Keep her still , will you?" The paramedic that had pulled her from the car complained to the others that were attempting to hold her down while still being careful not to damage anything further. He was making a rather futile attempt to place an IV in her arm within the van. Their small , county hospital issued equipment did not include straps , much to the disappointment of all members.
"Aidez , Mama! Je suis desole..." Callandra called out one last time as the paramedic slid the needle in slowly. She fell back against her stretcher as though admitting to losing the battle somehow , the distressed look on her face remaining.
"Must have some brain damage , don't you think? I've never saw one act like that." One of the medics in the back remarked dryly , passing the head man that had been working on the IV a small kit.
"Possibly. Maybe that's just normal."
They all nodded their agreements silently , going back to various tasks. Up front , the driver was rattling away merrily on the radio. Callandra began to stir and each member watched wearily while they worked , careful for another outburst from the woman. She was slowly regaining consciousness , fighting through the barrier of the concussion such a crash had given her.
"Doesn't she look familiar to you?" One of the medics yawned out minutes later. They were approaching the outskirts of town now , and each was hopeful for a break from the runs they'd been given all night after the storm.
"How so?"
"I don't know...she just does. Not local though , you heard the crazy stuff that's been coming out of her mouth. Just familiar."
"Hey,I know!" One of the more silent and scrawny members of the group suddenly announced from the front , twisting around in the passenger seat to look at them. "She looks like that crazy chic that was killing people in New York! You think that's her?"
"Stephen , go back to your hole , they found and shot that woman days ago. Don't you ever listen to the news?"
Quiet again , the man turned around in his seat looking both embarrassed and angry. He heaved a heavy sigh like a child would and faced straight ahead. In the back however , amongst the triumphant grins of the paramedics , Callandra Knott was regaining her strength.
Slowly , her eyes flicked open. The ceiling of the van was immediately presented before her , and then the faces of the scraggly-looking men who lined the walls amongst medical equipment and machines. A shudder rippled through her body. She was in an ambulance.
"Hey , how old you think she is?" One of the men grumbled out , trying to complete the paperwork ahead of time. He looked across the ambulance to the head medic who looked down upon the face of Callandra , suddenly at as much ease as it had been minutes ago.
"Oh...I don't know...27? Yeah,put that down. Looks kinda old..."
Concussion or no concussion , the man had just violated one of the most sacred rules of this earth , and Callandra felt her blood boil. He'd called her old! The nerve of that hick...Him and his fleet of wannabe-southern-drawl farm boys out here calling her old...A scowl knitted over her features despite who was watching. Ignoring the headache that was launched into affect upon the light , she opened her eyes completely , glaring firmly at the man. Callandra began to sit up , feeling her limbs scream in protest. When she placed her hand on the stretched for support , the bones in her arm ached so terribly she was sure it was broken.
"Holy crap!" He exclaimed , surprised at so much movement from the formerly dormant woman.
"Don't worry. Be grateful. You , at least , won't be getting any older..."
A.N.-Alright. Having written that , I know it was short , and in my opinion a little hurried , but that is what I get for not writing in so long. This chapter was simply to bridge the gap in time between those former chapters and those to come. I'm estimating 2-3 more before this story is finally completed and I can finally celebrate , hehe. So don't flame me too harshly until you see what else is to come. Deal? Now , click on down to that little review box...
