Authors notes: I'm not medically qualified, nor do I know much about the American medical or legal system, so I apologise for any mistakes in this or any subsequent chapters.
"A Shot Without Warning"
"OK, Diane,"
Doug opened, swinging through the trauma room doors with the same easy charm and grace he always had. I had, even as a med student, envied his way with the world. His vigour, his seemingly natural charisma, though irritating, was impressive.
"How's he doing?"
He addressed me instead. I looked down at the chart in my hand.
"Pulse 120.BP 100/40."
"OK, good, well, we're just waiting on a call from…"
His words were interrupted by a loud crash as the trauma room doors slammed open. I wheeled instinctively, saw Lucy stagger and fall against the metal cupboards, then saw a man just inside the doorway. Doug stepped forward, beside me, and without fear made direct eye contact with the man.
"Can we help you?"
His tone was brisk, flat, without fear. Despite myself, my knees trembled.
"Dad!"
Liam screamed, a mixture of terrified and confused. I flashed a glance in his direction, all at once realising just what we might be caught up in. His eyes were bright and shining with terror.
"Can we help you, Mr Andrews?"
"I've come to see my son. I've come to make her pay,"
I've never seen such cold determination on anyone's face. Fear shot right into the core of my soul and I was frozen. I hated it, but I couldn't move. The gun was produced from an inside pocket, glinting evilly in the artificial light, and lined up with Liam. I don't know if I saw his intentions or even if he knew he was doing it, but somewhere between the aim and the shot, Doug put himself between the bullet and the boy.
The first gunshot was shocking. I didn't expect him to fire, so when he did the sound exploded into my mind with an incredible force. Pain shot through me from my upper arm, and I turned to see blood staining my white coat red. With the second shot, I ducked, and I can't clearly remember the rest. There were two further shots, people screaming and glass shattering.
Once the final shot faded away, I opened my eyes again. Doug lay, spreadeagled, on the floor by Liams bed. Diane shrieked hysterically, a high-pitched irritating sound. I recovered myself enough to crawl over to his side. I counted two entry wounds, one just below his sternum, one through the left side of his chest. I could see his eyes were wide open, and that his chest didn't rise and fall as it should.
"Doug? Doug, can you hear me?"
I didn't expect an answer. My stomach twisted and I struggled to function. Every breath was a struggle, heavy and long. Lucy appeared in my line of vision, a bruise rising under her left eye.
"What can I do?"
She said, blocking out reality, and ever eager to help. I gestured towards the patients mother. Diane was still shrieking, and I feared on the point of hyperventilation.
"Calm her down. Get Mark, and keep Carol out of here!"
I commanded, leaving myself virtually breathless. She turned away to do my bidding. Without help or basic observations, I resorted to simple CPR in an attempt to revive my fallen comrade. But I could barely breathe for myself, so every movement was an effort. My leaden limbs wanted to give up, telling me it was useless, but I carried on. Mark burst through the doors seconds later, and fell to his knees beside the patient.
"Shit, what happened?"
Came the disbelieving question, the tone low and heavy.
"Two entry wounds, no respiratory effort, massive blood loss,"
I stuttered eventually, still mechanically performing CPR. I was increasingly aware of an intense pain in my arm. Mark pulled my hands away, put his fingers to Dougs neck.
"He's been like this since it happened?"
I nodded, clenching my fingers round Marks wrist, just trying to hold on to something. My knuckles turned slowly white, and the reality of the situation dawned on me.
"I think he's gone,"
"Do you want me to call it?"
I asked instinctively, needing to grasp the full enormity of the moment. Mark shook his head almost wistfully, no sign of tears in his eyes.
"No need, he died on impact,"
My eyes travelled around the room, as I absorbed the full blow. I released Marks wrist and sat back on my haunches. The gun lay abandoned on the floor, a hot, guilty weight of metal. Mr Andrews stood in the hallway, shaking violently. Security arrived eventually, and led him away. I couldn't look at him and feel anything but hatred. He looked pitiful, but I couldn't pity him.
"Shall I call the coroner?"
Haleh asked softly, one hand on both our shoulders. I nodded slowly.
"And call the police. This is a crime scene,"
Mark added. She turned away. It was then I looked up and saw Carol in the doorway. I struggled to my feet, and stepped unsteadily towards her, my words and actions now unclear. I saw no sign of emotion in her. No wetness in her eye, no tremble in her hands. Her face was white against the shock of black hair. She seemed frozen.
I didn't make it to her. I know that now. I blacked out before I got to the doorway. I wouldn't have known what to say, how to reach someone as devastated as she was. So I fell into the open arms of oblivion and was lost to reality, at least for a while.
"A Shot Without Warning"
"OK, Diane,"
Doug opened, swinging through the trauma room doors with the same easy charm and grace he always had. I had, even as a med student, envied his way with the world. His vigour, his seemingly natural charisma, though irritating, was impressive.
"How's he doing?"
He addressed me instead. I looked down at the chart in my hand.
"Pulse 120.BP 100/40."
"OK, good, well, we're just waiting on a call from…"
His words were interrupted by a loud crash as the trauma room doors slammed open. I wheeled instinctively, saw Lucy stagger and fall against the metal cupboards, then saw a man just inside the doorway. Doug stepped forward, beside me, and without fear made direct eye contact with the man.
"Can we help you?"
His tone was brisk, flat, without fear. Despite myself, my knees trembled.
"Dad!"
Liam screamed, a mixture of terrified and confused. I flashed a glance in his direction, all at once realising just what we might be caught up in. His eyes were bright and shining with terror.
"Can we help you, Mr Andrews?"
"I've come to see my son. I've come to make her pay,"
I've never seen such cold determination on anyone's face. Fear shot right into the core of my soul and I was frozen. I hated it, but I couldn't move. The gun was produced from an inside pocket, glinting evilly in the artificial light, and lined up with Liam. I don't know if I saw his intentions or even if he knew he was doing it, but somewhere between the aim and the shot, Doug put himself between the bullet and the boy.
The first gunshot was shocking. I didn't expect him to fire, so when he did the sound exploded into my mind with an incredible force. Pain shot through me from my upper arm, and I turned to see blood staining my white coat red. With the second shot, I ducked, and I can't clearly remember the rest. There were two further shots, people screaming and glass shattering.
Once the final shot faded away, I opened my eyes again. Doug lay, spreadeagled, on the floor by Liams bed. Diane shrieked hysterically, a high-pitched irritating sound. I recovered myself enough to crawl over to his side. I counted two entry wounds, one just below his sternum, one through the left side of his chest. I could see his eyes were wide open, and that his chest didn't rise and fall as it should.
"Doug? Doug, can you hear me?"
I didn't expect an answer. My stomach twisted and I struggled to function. Every breath was a struggle, heavy and long. Lucy appeared in my line of vision, a bruise rising under her left eye.
"What can I do?"
She said, blocking out reality, and ever eager to help. I gestured towards the patients mother. Diane was still shrieking, and I feared on the point of hyperventilation.
"Calm her down. Get Mark, and keep Carol out of here!"
I commanded, leaving myself virtually breathless. She turned away to do my bidding. Without help or basic observations, I resorted to simple CPR in an attempt to revive my fallen comrade. But I could barely breathe for myself, so every movement was an effort. My leaden limbs wanted to give up, telling me it was useless, but I carried on. Mark burst through the doors seconds later, and fell to his knees beside the patient.
"Shit, what happened?"
Came the disbelieving question, the tone low and heavy.
"Two entry wounds, no respiratory effort, massive blood loss,"
I stuttered eventually, still mechanically performing CPR. I was increasingly aware of an intense pain in my arm. Mark pulled my hands away, put his fingers to Dougs neck.
"He's been like this since it happened?"
I nodded, clenching my fingers round Marks wrist, just trying to hold on to something. My knuckles turned slowly white, and the reality of the situation dawned on me.
"I think he's gone,"
"Do you want me to call it?"
I asked instinctively, needing to grasp the full enormity of the moment. Mark shook his head almost wistfully, no sign of tears in his eyes.
"No need, he died on impact,"
My eyes travelled around the room, as I absorbed the full blow. I released Marks wrist and sat back on my haunches. The gun lay abandoned on the floor, a hot, guilty weight of metal. Mr Andrews stood in the hallway, shaking violently. Security arrived eventually, and led him away. I couldn't look at him and feel anything but hatred. He looked pitiful, but I couldn't pity him.
"Shall I call the coroner?"
Haleh asked softly, one hand on both our shoulders. I nodded slowly.
"And call the police. This is a crime scene,"
Mark added. She turned away. It was then I looked up and saw Carol in the doorway. I struggled to my feet, and stepped unsteadily towards her, my words and actions now unclear. I saw no sign of emotion in her. No wetness in her eye, no tremble in her hands. Her face was white against the shock of black hair. She seemed frozen.
I didn't make it to her. I know that now. I blacked out before I got to the doorway. I wouldn't have known what to say, how to reach someone as devastated as she was. So I fell into the open arms of oblivion and was lost to reality, at least for a while.