Saving the Dead (17 page)

Chapter Eight

Allergy to Cats

The only time during transport that they had any silence from their less-than-savory patient was when Justin had started the IV on him.  At first, the paramedic student didn’t know what to make of the irate man suddenly going deathly still and silent.  When Ramirez saw his eyes roll back in his head he actually snorted.

“What happened?” Justin asked, looking genuinely nervous that he had done something wrong.

“Looks like he passed out from the IV.”

“No way!”  Justin exclaimed. “But he was shot!  How can an IV make him pass out after that?”

“My guess is that he really doesn’t like needles.”

Unfortunately for the crew, Johnny’s silence was short lived.  When he woke up a few minutes later he was livid. “I know you motherfuckers put something in that to make me fall asleep!  What the hell kind of sick bastards are you?”

It only went downhill from there, stepping through the doors of the emergency room was as much a relief as an annoyance.

“Help!”

Everyone looked around at the oddly girlish scream as the ER doors opened up.

“Sir, will you please calm down,” said Ramirez from the front of the stretcher.

“Really?” said Drifts.

“Yeah, fucking really!” shouted Johnny. “You ambulance drivers didn’t do shit for me on the way here!”

“Mr. Thompson, will you please shut up!” said Officer Stromberg.

“Don’t tell me shut up, bitch!” snarled Johnny.

“Talk like that again, and I’ll have my student start another IV on you,” Ramirez said conversationally.

Johnny’s head whipped around. “You wouldn’t!”

Ramirez held up the needle in question. “I have the 14-gauge right here.”

Johnny’s eyes bulged. “That’s not a needle, that a motherfucking sword!”

“Then shhh.”

Gloria approached them, “What have we got here, gentlemen?”

“GSW to the buttocks.  Appears superficial with a low caliber.  Vitals are stable.”

“Superficial my ass!” shouted Johnny.

“I believe that is what the man just said,” Drifts retorted.

Gloria smiled despite herself. “Yeah, I took your radio report.  We were debating about trauma activating him, but we heard all the commotion he was making and decided to hold off.  Why don’t you take him to room 10?”

“Commotion I was making?” shouted Johnny. “What kind of bitch-ass remark is that!”

“Wait,” said the nurse.  She approached Johnny with a dangerous look in her eye. “One more outburst like that, sir, and I’ll be sure that you get the largest Foley catheter we have, without lube.  I will ensure that we do things to make you curse the day your mother even met your father.  In other words, don’t fuck with me, young man.  I haven’t had my coffee yet, and I’m not in the mood for your shit!  Is that clear?”

Johnny opened his mouth to respond, but there was something about the glint in the nurse’s eyes that gave him pause.  He closed his mouth.  Then a moment later he said, “Yes, ma’am.”

The crew just stared at the interaction with open disbelief.  The nurse turned her gaze onto them. “Very well, gentlemen. You can proceed to room 10.  I will have security meet you there to ensure his continued cooperation.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Ramirez.

As they walked to the room, Drifts said, “Next time we’re here, I’m bringing Gloria a cup of coffee.”

When they left the room, Johnny made one last parting shot. “Don’t let me see you boys again.  If I do, there will be a motherfucking reckoning then!”

Officer Stromberg who escorted them in asked, “Mr. Thompson, was that a threat?”

He looked at her evenly. “Naw, bitch.  That was a motherfucking promise.”

She looked at the crew. “Do you guys want to press charges?”

Ramirez shrugged, “We’ll consider it.”

In the ambulance bay Drifts took another drag on his cigarette, “God that sucked.”

Ramirez asked over his paperwork, “What, you didn’t enjoy that shooting?”

“That wasn’t a fucking shooting!  That was a fat bastard with a boo-boo on his ass!  So are you going to press charges?” Drifts asked.

Ramirez shook his head. “No.  I don’t like going to court unless I absolutely have to.   Besides, I could go my whole life without seeing that guy again.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“That guy was an asshole,” said Justin.

“Yes he was, Justin. Yes he was,” Ramirez agreed.

Their radios crackled. “Triple-Three!  Unit Triple-Three, we need you to clear the hospital for a code two shooting at Seventeenth and Peg!”

Drifts yelped with excitement as he leapt up into the driver’s seat. “This is what I’m talking about!  I live for this kind of shit!”  He keyed the mic. “Triple-Three en route!”

“You in kid?” he called back.

“I’m ready,” said Justin.

“All right! Let’s do this!”  He gunned the engines and hit the sirens as they peeled out of the bay.

“Leo, aren’t you pumped?”

Ramirez flipped through the map book. “I’m positively on the edge of my seat.  Take a left on Wright.  That should take you to Seventeenth.”

“What?”

“Take a left on the street Wright: W-R-I-G-H-T, the name of the street we want to go down.”

“Oh okay.”

He veered Triple-Three sharply onto Wright Avenue.

Dispatch called on the radio, “Unit Triple-Three, change of calls.  Respond to Keene and Twenty-Third on a short of air code one.”

“No!” shouted Drifts.

Ramirez sensing potential trouble took the mic first. “Triple-Three responding to Keene and Twenty-Third on a short-of-air.”

“No!  No!  No!  No!  No!  No!  No!” Drifts hammered the ceiling of the ambulance with each word.

Oblivious to the EMT’s tantrums, dispatch continued to give them the particulars. “Triple-Three you are going to 2301 Keene Avenue, to the Rising Star apartment complex.  You are going to apartment 7G on a short-of-breath.”

“Responding,” Ramirez told them.

“That S-O-B took my G-S-W!” Drifts roared.

Dispatch called out, “Unit Three-Fifty-Two, Three-Five-Two please respond to Seventeenth and Peg on a code two shooting!”

“Of course they give the fucking call to that Harrison prick!” Drifts grumbled.  Drifts continuing to rant as they drove down the street.  Ramirez occasionally grunted a conciliatory admission.

Harrison’s voice called on the radio, “Dispatch, this is Three-Five-Two we’re having trouble finding our way through the construction that’s running across Peg.”

Dispatch responded, “Standby, Three-Five-Two.”

Two heartbeats passed and Ramirez picked up the radio after glancing at his map book “Triple-Three to Three-Five-Two.”

“Go ahead Triple-Three.”

“Backtrack to Wernick Avenue then take it to Twenty-Second over to Reese.  From Reese, you should be able bypass all that construction to make it to Seventeenth and Peg.”

“Got it!  Thanks, Triple-Three!”

“Anytime, Three-Five-Two, stay safe,” said Ramirez.

Drifts scowled at his partner. “What the hell, Leo?  They just ganked our call.  Let them figure their own way!”

Ramirez cocked an eyebrow, “You’ve been lost too.  It’s about the patient, not how I feel about Harrison.”

Drifts shook his head muttering under his breath, “I’m working with a fucking saint.”

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the gated fence of the Rising Star apartments.

“Triple-Three on scene.”

“Acknowledged, Triple-Three,” said Dispatch. “Three-Five-Two, what’s your status?”

“We overshot it! We’re at Eighth and Ryan!”

“Whoa,” Drifts paused as he unloaded the cot. “They literally overshot their call by a fucking mile!”

“Wow.” Ramirez sighed. “Come on, there’s nothing we can do for them now.”

“There was nothing we could have done for them before, Harrison always was a grade-A moron.  I remember when you trained him.  That man would never look at the map book.  Well, I sure as hell bet he wishes he’d paid attention now!”

“I’m sure he does too.”

They approached the building’s outside door and pressed the door buzzer for 7G.

A woman’s voice came over the intercom. “Yes?”

“Ma’am, did you call an ambulance for a medical emergency?” asked Ramirez.

“Oh, yes.  I will see you in a bit.  Come on up.”  She buzzed the door open and Ramirez ushered them in.  Drifts, shaking his head took the lead pulling the stretcher.  Ramirez caught Justin’s eye and showed him three fingers.  Justin looked at him quizzically as he changed it to two fingers.  He was about to ask when Ramirez motioned him to silence and showed him one finger.  Then he pointed at Drift’s back.

On cue Drifts said, “You’ve got to be motherfucking kidding me!  Dollars to donuts, I’d bet you a million bucks that the stupid bitch on the intercom is our patient?”

Drifts looked back and his frown deepened. “What the hell are you two smiling about?”

“Nothing, Sam.  Nothing whatsoever.”

“No, seriously, what’s so funny?”

Ramirez just shook his head as they walked through Rising Star’s pristine lobby and pressed the elevator up button.  The door open with a ping.

Drifts stepped in first. “What’s giving you two such a great little chuckle?”

His radio crackled. “Unit Three Fifty-Two is on scene!”

They looked at each other.

“Looks like they finally made it,” said Drifts.

Ramirez nodded.

They remained solemn for a moment then Drifts broke it. “So tell me, what the hell do you guys find to be so fucking funny!”

The elevator opened and they stepped off onto the seventh floor.

“Here’s the spot, apartment 7G,” said Ramirez.

Their radio crackled again. “Unit Three-Five-Two en route to Children’s Hospital emergent with one pediatric trauma.”

Justin exclaimed, “Holy shit!”

“Whoa,” said Drifts.

Ramirez said, “Sam, go ahead and turn down your radio, please.  Like it or not, our job is here.”  Drifts grumbled under his breath but did as he was asked.  Ramirez stepped off to the side of the door pulling the Justin with him. “Never stand directly in front of the door when you knock.” He then knocked and called, “Paramedics!”

Justin asked, "Why not?"

"In case someone blast through the door with a gun.”

Justin’s eyes widened. “People do that?”

Ramirez shrugged. “It’s been known to happen.”

A hail of bullets didn’t come, but there was a series of locks being opened on the other side.  Moments later, the door cracked opened revealing the heavily made-up face of a woman.  She looked them up and down and said, “Just a moment.”

She closed the door and they could hear her slide the chain off before she opened the door again.  She was rail thin and dressed more for an immaculate dinner party than the late hours in her home.  They could not tell if she was middle aged or elderly from her combination of bulletproof makeup and overt plastic surgery.  The corners of her mouth twitched in a cursory resemblance of a smile as she said, “Oh good, you’re here.”

Most of this was actually lost on the crew as they were far more distracted by the pungent odor wafting out of the room. Drifts stepped back and his hand shot to his mouth.  His stomach convulsed violently as he fought to maintain its contents.

The woman’s mouth twitched in a quick frown for the EMT, but she took control of it and waved them in. “Do come in, please.”

Ramirez pushed the stretcher against the wall of the hall corridor and followed her in.  Justin came behind him holding the medical bag and monitor.  Drifts came last as tried to breathe only through his mouth.

“What can we help you with, ma’am?” Ramirez asked.

She patted his forearm gently. “Oh, I'll be with you in just a moment.  I just need to get my babies settled in.”  She flashed the medic one of her static smiles, “Just a moment.”

She pushed a rolling suitcase to Justin. “Young man, be a dear and carry this for me.”

“Your babies?” Ramirez asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “My kitties need their food and water filled before we leave.”

Drifts looked up sharply. “Cats?”

She opened a side door and over fifteen cats came scrambling out.  With them, the smell of cat piss increased exponentially.  The cats meowed and fanned out, crawling over her and walking towards the dumbfounded crew.  The woman made kissing faces to the felines, which was quite a feat considering her taunt facial muscles.

“That’s right babies." she said. "Momma has to go to the hospital now.  Don’t you worry your little furry heads.  Mr. Norman will be by to check on you first thing in the morning.”

Ramirez watched as some of the cats approached, and Justin knelt down to pet a few.  Drifts scrambled back against the door, his face flushed and his eyes beginning to water. “Leo!”

Ramirez called, “Ma’am?"

“Oh, call me Minnie.”

He continued, “Minnie, can you put your cats away again, please?  My partner is highly allergic to them.”

Minnie eyes went wide. “Oh!  I’m so sorry.  How inconsiderate of me.  It's been so long since I have encountered anyone unfortunate enough to not know the love of a good pussycat.” Justin averted his eyes with a snicker.  Drifts shot him a murderous look through watery eyes.

“It is a burden that he has to bear, but he gets by.”

Drifts transferred the daggers of his stare to his partner’s back moments before his face contorted. "Achoo!”  Drifts sneeze reverberated off of the walls.

“Oh my!  Sir, cover your face when you sneeze like that!  I would think that someone with your medical training would know better.”

“Minnie, could please call your cats now?” Ramirez asked again.

“Couldn’t your partner wait outside?”

Hearing this, Drifts's back stiffened and he released the door’s handle.  He might be miserable, but he was nothing without his pride.

“No.  My partner and I are a team.  He goes where I go.  You’ve called for help, and we’re here.  Now could you please put your cats away?”  Ramirez’s tone never changed, but his aura of authority became palpable.

Taken aback by his directness, Minnie relented.  “Oh, very well.” 

She stepped back inside the foul-smelling room the cats had exited.  Moments later there was the sound of cat food being shook in a bag. “Kitties, come and get your nummies!”

Ramirez offered Drifts his handkerchief.  The EMT accepted it with a muffled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Drifts blew his nose into the cloth.  He looked at Ramirez. “Sorry I’ll just keep this until I get the chance to clean it,” he said with a congested lisp.

Ramirez nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

Drifts looked down at Justin, “What’s your deal, kid?  How come this doesn’t bother you?”

Justin shrugged. “I grew up on a farm, remember?”

Drifts glowered at him. “Shut up, twerp!”

 Minnie closed the door behind her. “Okay, my little angels are all tucked in for the night.  They’ll be safe until my neighbor can check on them in the morning.” 

“So,” she looked at them brightly, “I guess we’re all ready to go then.”

Ramirez cocked an eyebrow. “Not quite yet, ma’am.”

“I told you to call me Minnie.  Ma’am makes me feel like a little old lady.”

“I apologize.  But we still don't know why we're here.”

“Oh, you’re here because I called.  I needed a ride to the hospital,” she explained cheerfully.

“Why do you need a ride to the hospital?” Ramirez asked patiently.

Behind him Drifts started to cough in spasms.  Ramirez was secretly thankful that his partner was temporarily robbed of his power of speech.  Despite his current wheezing state, Drifts’s opinion radiated into the room.  Ramirez could still hear his partner’s colorful responses in his head.

Minnie set her jaw. “That is kind of a personal question, don’t you think?”

“It is,” Ramirez conceded. “But it is one of a few that I intend to ask.”

Minnie eyes bulged with indignation. “That’s pretty impertinent for an ambulance driver.”

Time froze.  Ramirez glanced back at his partner.  Justin’s head swiveled around to gape at the now-irate EMT.  Ramirez met Drifts’s bulging eyes and gave him a smile and a nod.  Drifts relaxed visibly.  He recognized his partner’s look.  It said,
Don’t worry, Sam.  I’ve got everything under control.

Ramirez turned to look at her with the full intensity of his gaze. “No, ma’am, I am a paramedic, not an ambulance driver.  I’ve been one for over twenty-seven years.  That means I have dedicated over half of my own life to preserving of the lives of others.  I served on the first line of defense against the daily chaos, and I was there when the outbreak destroyed that line.  I sacrificed a lot to see others through the dark years that followed, and I and many others like me sacrificed even more to rebuild that line, which you now take for granted.

Behind him, Drifts’s hand shot into the air. He wheezed for air as he said, “Preach it, Brother Leo!”  He then fell into another coughing fit.  Minnie looked at Drifts sharply but remained silent under the severity of Ramirez’s eyes.

He continued to speak in a low tone. “I have dedicated my life to the protection of others, so I take a very serious interest when someone dial 911 to ask for help.  Now, please tell me again: Why are we here?”

Minnie took a moment to regain her composure. “Well, for the last several months I’ve had quite a bit of trouble with the sniffles.  It’s been bothering me quite frequently, I might add.  So I thought I would go to the doctor to have it checked out.”

“So you called 911 because you’ve had the sniffles for several months, and you decided that tonight at three o’clock in the morning was the best time to be evaluated?”