@amelie-zervas
As the seconds were slowly but surely following one another, Gabriel could feel the noisy background going mute and panic growing in his head. He’d seen this particular set of symptoms hundreds of times but at every former occasion he could simply write down the diagnosis and send the patient out of the ER and up to Surgery Department. Here, at the Holy Family Church, the only up was knocking on Heaven’s Door, probably sooner than they could all leave this damned place.
“Ramirez?” he started, hoping to drag one of EMT’s attention with his voice that sounded way weaker than it usually would.
“What did the hospital say?”
“DIY. Literally, that’s what Reyes said. DIY.”
“I don’t think he meant Paracord Lanyard Keychains, sir. “ A carless joke was something that Gabriel could weirdly appreciate at the moment, and that helped him to get his shit together enough to start moving.
“I hope you’ll like your new boss when they fire me for killing this guy, Ramirez,” Gabriel joked (or not really) while making his way to the ambulance that was parked at the backyard. Luckily, they arrived in a microscale hospital so the only thing he didn’t have to worry about was the equipment.
“I can help you, sir!”
“Don’t you have four kids to feed?”
Gabriel knew that asking anyone from the medical team for help was like asking them to pack their stuff, return the license and apply for a supermarket job. The only career he could risk was his own.
On his way back to the patient, he noticed the girl that he earlier saw dealing with the quartermaster job. She seemed like someone who knew how to think and find her way around.
“You -- What’s your name? And will you collapse after seeing blood?”