Red and white and then red, white, and blue line the shoulder of Interstate 5.
Ambulance, fire trucks, police vehicles light up the the once dark skies and it's a beautiful sight knowing I'm no longer alone with my battle to keep this stranger alive.
Uniformed men and women sprint to us with bags of supplies in hand.
"What do you know?" A female paramedic strictly asks me as I stand to my feet.
I wipe cool, wet stands of grass off my legs, bloodied fingerprints staining my slacks, and I begin to tell her all the medically necessary things I know about his condition. She leaves me standing alone to relay information to the others who are circled around the stranger. I watch them strap a brace around his neck, bandage what they can temporarily, and carefully lift him onto a gurney. My curiosity is piqued for an update but I know better than to ask.
"Jess?" I hear someone call my name from behind.
I turn to see Jake walking up.
"Oh, hey Jake.."
Jake, a fairly handsome paramedic I frequently see at the hospital delivering patients to the emergency room stands before me now.
"Working after work huh? Pretty gnarly ey?"
I let out an exasperated breath that I've been reluctant to release as it escapes through my lips creating a faint white cloud caused by the chilled air.
"Something like that," I tirelessly whisper out.
I momentarily avert my gaze to an ambulance, one that is presently loading a one-foot-already-in-the-grave man into the back of the life-saving vehicle. The doors simultaneously close and within a nanosecond they're driving off in the direction I just came from.
"You coming with?" Jake breaking me of my void thoughts.
"Huh?"
"To the hospital? Ya know since you just saved that man's life, don't you want to see it through?" He asks with a hopeful smile.
A smile I can't seem to return back to him. The last forty-five minutes rewind and play over in my mind. Guilt engulfs me fully, I should have given that mangled man on his way to the hospital, my second home, a way out. If and only if he even makes it through, what sort of life will he have? Surely an unfamiliar one in the very least. The life he had forty five minutes ago is shattered in millions upon millions of pieces now. When he coded I should have allowed him to succumb to his natural fate but instincts, especially being in the medical field took over, and saving his life regardless of the outcome ahead had taken over. If he didn't have a death wish before, he sure as hell will be desperate for it soon enough.
Directing my attention back to Jake and his questions I simply shake my head no, "It's been a day, I'm going home."
His smile drops with slight disappointment, "It's all good, I get it, have a good night Jess." And with that, he turns his back to me and saunters back to the awaiting emergency vehicles on the side of the road.
Jacob Morrison, nearly six feet, light blonde shaggy, yet tamed hair, and baby blue eyes could make women fall to their knees with his smile alone. He's a fairly new paramedic, born and raised in California, from what I know nearly lived on the beach and was a lifeguard for years and it shows, his appearance alone screams surfer Cali boy. He's incredibly sweet and still in the optimistic phase of his career. A phase I once resigned in myself. Years of chaos, trauma, and tragedy change a person. I once thought I could save the world one heart attack at a time but boy was I wrong, like really wrong. I have witnessed awful freak accidents, pure evil from one human to another, self-inflicted harm and so much more.
I wave to Jake right before he closes the ambulance door and he returns it before the lights are switched off and begins pulling onto the interstate and driving away.
I wrap my arms around myself and then remember I'm still covered in blood. It's no longer bright red and sticky it's darker, nearly brown, and dry to the touch. I let out a sigh before starting my way back to my car.
"Miss?" I hear a man call out after me.
I turn back around giving the man my full attention and noticing several medics and police officers still lingering at the scene.
"I'm Officer Thompson, we'll need to collect some information from you," he runs a hand through his black hair looking defeated, not wanting to deal with this any more than I do. I nod and follow him to his brightly flashing police car, giving him my information and full statement on the incident.
Thirty minutes later I'm free to leave and I don't waste a second doing just that but before driving off I text my colleague and closest friend Charlotte letting her know she'll be getting a new patient in the ICU soon.
That is, if he's not already in the morgue.