While this story is HOL appropriate, it might be triggering (car accident) for some.
There is yelling, outright screaming. Heavy rain barely drowning out the fearful voices that seemed to join the cacophony of sounds with each passing minute.
‘Mom!’ I scream, looking left and right, but I cannot find her. All I can see is bent metal everywhere, cars piled up on top of one another and people running away, or worse, still.
I check the driver’s seat again, but she wasn’t there. I try not to think about the human-sized hole in the front window. I move away from it, ignoring the stinging pain in my chest. ‘Mom!’
I hear sirens in the background, but I keep stumbling around the cars, around the people, until something grabs me from behind. I try to fight, but I notice the black and yellow reflective uniform and a logo on the sleeves, our town’s fire department.
‘You okay kid?’ a gruff voice asks. I look up and see a stern man, around my dad’s age, but with kind eyes. He is supporting a teenager, who has a pretty deep-looking wound on her arm.
‘I’m looking for my mom,’ I say in a small voice.
‘I’ll try to find her kiddo,’ he said, looking between us. ‘Can you do me a favor, champ?’ the man asks, as I nod. ‘Why don’t you take her and go to those tents over there,’ he points to the left where I can just barely see the white tops. ‘Your mom might be there.’
I glance at the teenager again, she looks to be close to tears. I nod and the man gently put her arm around my shoulders. ‘You’re very brave kid,’ he says as he leaves.
‘Come on, it’s not that far,’ I tell the girl and we start our slow walk to the tents.
I come back to reality when a solid, but light, punch hits my shoulder.
'Come on rookie, multiple MVA on I-95,' my partner says as we jump into the rig, me in the back and he behind the wheel. 'Don't freeze,' he yells as we speed down the roads cars moving out of our way because of the siren.
It takes us ten minutes to arrive, mostly due to lighter traffic than usual and my partner's excellent car maneuvering while speeding. I sigh as I see the crowd of onlookers.
We take the stretcher from the back of the rig and start pushing through the crowd. I admit I am quite liberal with the use of elbows.
‘EMTs, move away!’ I yell for added effect and the people slowly step back.
I kneel down by the person lying unmoving on the ground, ignoring the coppery smell already wafting through the air.
Time to get to work.
Thank you Dario!