Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Kent pulled his phone out of his pocket. He clicked on the phone icon, and his thumb hovered over Maeve’s name. Texting wasn’t his favorite form of communication, but Maeve insisted they chat throughout the day. He felt it was often informal, and the tone of the message on the other end depended on the receiver. Kent was someone who picked up the phone to call his parents and tell them something, regardless of how minute. He was also known to show up at their house just in time for dinner. He liked the face to face because he loved seeing people’s reactions.
He wanted an answer to his earlier text because something wasn’t sitting right with him. He went back and forth in his mind on what he should do. Nothing made sense. He knew her parents were out of town. So why was she lying?
On the other side of the lounge, some of the other medics played pool. Kent pocketed his phone and went to watch the game. Ruben Cross and Jenny Dillard were in a heated match, playing to see who would clean the toilets. It was Jenny’s assigned duty, but she’d challenged Ruben and said she could beat him. He’d agreed, and they were currently tied at two games each. Kent sat on a stool and watched his friends go back and forth. The trash-talking was both out of hand and comical. Every time Jenny lined up for a shot, Ruben would start dancing or whispering in her ear. When it was Ruben’s turn, Jenny pretended to undress. There was a long-standing rumor that they were a couple, but neither would admit to it. They rode together, and it was against policy to date your partner. Asking for a new partner would mean a different shift, and it would also mean disciplinary action for Ruben. He outranked Jenny.
When the eight ball sank, Jenny threw her arms up in celebration, and then started dancing. Ruben tossed his stick down and muttered something unintelligible about everyone’s bathroom habits. No one enjoyed cleaning the bathrooms.
Kent followed Ruben out of the lounge, and headed to the first floor, where another rig pulled in. The back door opened, and Zach Lacey climbed out. He looked exhausted, and Kent could guess why. Not all calls were easy. Some were downright hard and unbearable. Their captain had lost someone today, which was never good, and by the looks of it, Zach had as well.
“Dinner’s cooking,” Kent said after Zach had hopped out of the rig. “Do you need help to restock?”
Zach shook his head. Most medics preferred to restock on their own. It was their rig for twenty-four hours, and they needed to know what supplies they had. Kent wouldn’t take Zach’s refusal of help personally.
Kent started sweeping. His method was to push the dirt toward one wall and scoop it up from there. Everyone had their own way of doing things, and their deputy chief didn’t care as long as the facility looked clean all the time.
By the time he’d finished, it was time for dinner. They all sat down, thanked Damian for their food, and took their first bite. Some got three or four bites in before the alarm sounded.
Structure fire.
Kent listened clearly. He didn’t want to miss any of the important details. It was unlikely he and Damian would go, but they’d be on standby. One by one, the others stood and raced downstairs. Within seconds, sirens blared through the building as buses left. Six of them remained. They would wait for their captain to tell them where to stage and be there to help if needed. Kent hated fires. Anytime he was on scene, he felt helpless. He needed to do something when he responded to a call, and waiting patiently wasn’t a strong suit of his. He welcomed action and blamed his years of deployment with the army. This unit never had a dull moment.
The remaining medics finished dinner, stored and marked the leftovers, and cleaned. Kent cleaned the bathrooms to help Ruben out, while Damian tidied the lounge. The entire time, the radio told them what was happening at the scene, and when the second ambulance left, Damian and Kent made their way to their rig. They set off with only their lights on. There was no need for a siren until a call came in requiring their services.
They staged two blocks away and shook their heads as onlookers went to the scene. Neighbors and lookie-loos often clogged streets and access points for emergency personnel. They could be bothersome unless they had valuable information. The people walking by now were nosy. Nothing more to it.
“What satisfaction do they get?” Damian asked.
Kent shook his head. “I don’t know. Social media fame? I know if that was my house, I wouldn’t want this on the internet for everyone to see all the time.”