Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“That’s it?” I asked in a small voice. “That’s our last bag?”
He silently nodded. As administrator, organizing things was his job. He looked not just humiliated but crushed at having overlooked something as basic as blood.
To my amazement, Corrigan stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, mate. None of us are at our best.”
Bartell gave him a stern look, unsure if he was being sarcastic, but Corrigan’s expression was completely sincere. Bartell nodded and sighed, accepting the olive branch.
“Okay,” said Corrigan. “This is what we’re going to do. Maggie?” She looked up, still red-eyed. “I need you to go into town and get everybody who’s not injured and get them here, now, donating blood.” She started to argue but he cut her off, nodding at Earl. “Maggie, this is the best thing you can do for him, okay? I need you to do it because I trust you to get it done.”
Maggie blinked uncertainly, then nodded. She planted a kiss on Earl’s cheek and marched out into the street.
When I looked round, Corrigan was looking at me. No: everyone was looking at me. Corrigan’s eyes were full of pity. I didn’t understand at first. Then I realized I was still holding the last bag of blood. It would be close to an hour at the earliest before we could get the first donated blood. Both Earl and the gunman needed a transfusion now.
Oh crap. What do I do?
Corrigan stepped forward but I put my hand up to stop him. However tempting it was to huddle behind him, Earl was my patient. It was my responsibility. I took a deep breath. “We’re giving this bag to him,” I told everyone. And nodded at the gunman.
Lloyd muscled forward. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” He was shaking with anger. He pointed to his mentor and looked around the room for support. “It’s Earl!”
There was a low rumble of agreement from the rest of the ER. Staff, townsfolk... everyone loved Earl.
Every cell in my body screamed at me to back down. A week before, I would have done. But I stood my ground and looked Lloyd in the eye. “Earl can have the very first bag of donated O-neg we get,” I told him. “But this guy needs the blood more.”
Lloyd stared at me. I stared right back. I could feel Corrigan’s eyes on me, willing me on.
Lloyd dropped his eyes and stalked off, cursing. I let out a long breath and handed the bag of blood to Krista to hook up. “I’m sorry,” I told Earl.
He weakly shook his head. “I trust you, doc.”
Those four words sent me close to tears. What if I’m wrong? What if I just saved some scumbag and killed Earl? Unable to speak, I patted his shoulder.
To my surprise, he gripped my wrist and pulled me close. Corrigan frowned and came over as well.
“I gotta tell you something,” said Earl. “In case….”
“You’re going to be just fine!” I told him sternly, not liking where that thought was going.
“Just in case,” he croaked. “Mining company tallied up what Colt and his men stole. Some drills, some jackhammers... and you were right: explosives.”
“Did they use them at the bank, to open the vault?” asked Corrigan.
Earl shook his head and pointed to a man in a suit, across the ER. “I talked to the bank manager, when they were bringing us in. They didn’t blow the vault door, they drilled it. And they stole eight crates of explosives. Enough to put a hole in the world.”
All the talking exhausted him. His eyes closed and he passed out, leaving Corrigan and me staring at each other in fear.
* * *
The next few hours were a blur. I was way, way, way out of my element, right at the center of the chaos. Every few seconds, another patient stopped breathing and needed to be intubated, or they crashed and needed resuscitation. When I was doing surgery, it wasn’t anything like I was used to. There wasn’t time to be careful or neat, or to plan or double-check. I was cutting, clamping and suturing as fast as my fingers would move. Every patient was thirty seconds from death: if I made one mistake... it felt like being in a falling elevator, waiting for the impact.
There wasn’t time for Corrigan and I to speak but I could feel his eyes on me as we worked. Rooting for me, believing in me, willing me on.
Eventually, the blood started to arrive and that bought us some breathing space. Earl got the first bag and his color started to improve. Maggie ran in to check on him, then ran back to the waiting area to keep the blood drive running. From what I could see, she was doing everything short of physically dragging people out of their homes and squeezing the blood out of them.