Chapter 4

“Incoming!”

It started with someone hollering. Then, jumbled speaking reached a crescendo and slowly faded as several pairs of squeaky comfortable shoes rushed toward the ER entrance.

“Cubicle 2-B’s open.” Carlton said that.

The whoosh of the parting glass door and the sound of ambulance stretcher wheels bumping over the threshold were familiar. The memory brought yet another jolt of pain no one had yet brought anything to curb. I couldn’t help but consider the notion that the lack of attention was due to my outstanding debt.

“Twenty-five-year-old male,” a new masculine voice said. “Hit and run. Victim nonresponsive.”

“Hey, there.” Carlton’s voice was soothing and calm, friendly and caring. “Do you know where you are?”

The chaos was coming my way.