Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“No, no, no, no.” My words are frantic, my head dizzy as I shakily put fingers to his carotid artery. At first, I can’t feel anything but then… something faint. That’s his pulse, right? I lose it, think I find it again, and fuck… I don’t know. I only know I can’t help him.
I dig my phone out of my pocket, dial 911. It’s all a blur as I pace outside Wade’s open door, telling the dispatcher what’s going on. Another car comes down the road, pulls over and a woman runs up asking me what happened.
I just shake my head, not able to verbalize. I have no clue what happened. Wade’s truck is in his lane of travel and there was clearly a head-on collision, but past that… I just know that my brother is hurt, possibly dying.
“Are you all right?” the woman asks, a hand on my shoulder.
“It’s my brother,” I choke out. “He’s hurt bad.”
She looks at Wade, then back at me. “Sit down, honey. You look like you’re about to collapse.”
“I can’t,” I say, my voice shaking, moving to stand by him. I put my fingers against his neck again, and yes… I think that’s a pulse. “I need to stay with him.”
The woman gently tries to guide me away, but I resist, my focus solely on Wade. “Help is on the way,” she says sedately. “Just hold on.”
Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder. A police car arrives first, an officer stepping out and assessing the scene quickly. “Everyone all right here?” he asks, but his eyes are already on Wade’s truck.
“He’s hurt,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “The man in the sedan is dead.”
The officer nods, speaking into his radio. Moments later, a fire truck pulls up, followed by an ambulance. The scene becomes chaotic, with emergency personnel shouting orders and moving with practiced urgency.
“Step back, sir,” one of the paramedics commands, but I can’t move. “We need to get in there. Step back now!”
The woman gently pulls me away, her hands surprisingly strong. “Let them do their job,” she murmurs.
I watch, feeling utterly helpless as the paramedics assess Wade’s condition. They call for the Jaws of Life, and the sound of shearing metal fills the air. I can barely hold myself together and I feel like I’m going to puke.
“Is there anyone I can call for you?” the woman asks, her voice kind but firm.
“My brother Ethan,” I manage to say, giving her his number. “Tell him it’s Wade. Tell him to get to the hospital.”
She nods, pulling out her phone and making the call. I can barely hear her over the noise, but I know she’s doing her best. I stand back, hands on top of my head, watching helplessly as the paramedics work frantically, finally freeing Wade from the wreckage. As they lift him onto the stretcher, I hear snippets of their conversation. “Severe chest trauma… possible cardiac contusion… need to stabilize him.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I watch as they load Wade into the ambulance, his face pale and bloodied. The world blurs around me.
“We’re taking him to County General,” one of the paramedics says. “Follow us if you can.”
I nod, barely comprehending. The ambulance speeds away, sirens blaring. I walk like a zombie to my truck, my hands shaking so badly I can hardly get the keys in the ignition. The drive to the hospital is a blur, my mind racing with fear and guilt.
My phone rings but I ignore it. I’ve got the steering wheel gripped so tightly for control that I can’t even think to try to answer.
It seems to take forever but then the emergency room looms before me. I park in a loading zone, not caring if I get ticketed or towed, and rush inside where a harried receptionist greets me. “My brother… Wade Blackburn… he was just brought in by ambulance.”
The nurse nods, her expression sympathetic. “They’re working on him now. Have a seat, and someone will be out to speak with you soon.”
Looking around, I see the lobby is half full. I collapse into the nearest chair, my body shaking uncontrollably. I can’t lose him. Not like this. The reality of the situation crashes down on me, and all I can do is pray that Wade will survive, and somehow, we’ll find a way to mend what’s been broken.
I stare at the floor, willing it to swallow me whole and make this go away. I ignore the bustle of activity around me but every time the double doors open past the reception desk, my head pops up, wondering if I’ll be getting good or bad news.
“Trey!” I hear my name and look up to see my parents and Ethan.
I stand, trying to say something but nothing comes out. My dad puts a reassuring arm around my shoulders, leads me back to the chair. They sit around me. “What happened? The woman who called Ethan said it was a bad car accident.”