The Final Race by Oliver Chiapco

Author:Oliver Chiapco
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-938008-45-0
Publisher: Hillcrest Media Group, Inc.

Chapter Eleven

Vampires

It was 6:40 a.m. The sun was just peeping through the horizon when Blake Randall pulled over at the doctors' parking lot at the San Diego Regional Hospital. Still dazed from his previous shift, he gently slapped his cheeks as he turned the ignition off. For the first twelve hours of the last twenty-four, he had stabilized six gunshot wounds, intubated four patients in respiratory distress, administered antivenin to two folks bitten by a rattler, sutured a dozen lacerations, spinal-tapped three infants, pronounced one patient dead on arrival, and revived three trauma victims who had slipped into cardiac arrest. The man was a self-professed adrenaline junkie. If he wasn't sky diving, he was bungee jumping. If he wasn't bungee jumping, he was dealing with bullet holes, stab wounds, and shattered bones at the emergency room. Today, he was hungry for more.

Blake grabbed his backpack and silver thermos mug. He nudged the Audi's door closed, squeezed the keyless remote, and then headed straight to the warzone. An attractive Mexican-American nurse with brown eyes and full lips greeted him at the entrance and told him that he had better be wearing his roller blades. He grinned and said not to worry. His sneakers had retractable wheels—in case the going got rough, which was pretty much the daily forecast. He quickly eased into his office, threw his backpack onto a leather couch, and then sat behind the desk. He noisily yawned and wished he was back in bed. An extra hour of sleep would have been nice. He checked the time. He had fifteen minutes. He put on his white coat and loaded his front pocket with a zillion pens. Then he flung his stethoscope around his neck and proceeded to look for the post-call doc.

It was the shift from hell, Blake's grumpy old partner ranted. Blake just grinned. The old doc looked pooped. His coat was all ruffled. His hair looked like a bird's nest. And it seemed like he had grown a full beard in the span of just twelve hours. The crabby old man wasted no time and pulled out the list of patients from a nearby desktop. He cranked his neck, yawned like a lion, and then impatiently gave Blake the rundown. Two asthmatics who had been wheezing up a storm. A teenage girl who had chugged a whole bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol soon after she was dumped by her boyfriend. A little kid who got mauled in the face by the family pit bull. Three more lacerations. A nosebleed. And three folks with fevers that were totally out of whack. Eleven patients all in all—plus two more drive-bys on the way from the nearest gangland. Oh, and a million more sick folks insanely packed in the waiting room. Nothing that you can't handle, the veteran wrapped up.

"Great!" Blake said. "Go home. Get some sleep. I'll see you in twelve hours."

As soon as the grouch disappeared through the door, Blake's internal siren started blaring. The race was on.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.