Mirrored Cuts

Chapter 46

Flint had canceled our study session for the next night with no explanation. So I decided to drown my sorrows in adrenaline.

I slid on my tactical pants that my mom had sent me as an apology for her inaction. I focused on the pants to try to change their aura from guilt to rebellion. This shift was going to be about rebellion. I tightened my belt and tied my insecurities down. My plan was to pass a call. That would have made me feel so much better. My crew chief for that night was Carl. As I arrived at the office, Lily stormed out, her face averted so I couldn't see her tears. That was the first sign to turn back. Carl put his fist through the plaster wall in the equipment closet. That was the second.

I put a radio on and played with the equipment in the jumpkit. Perhaps I could layer gauze over the hole in the wall and keep it there with medical tape. I could tourniquet Carl's hand to a pole and keep him from doing more damage. I could put a face mask over my mouth to keep myself from inhaling the toxic atmosphere. I wrapped my radio in an ace bandage, because it must have been broken. We weren't getting tones.

I hit it. It was either a coincidence or fate, because it blared out tones at the exact second that my hand collided with the ace wrapping. I leapt to my feet and thanked the universe that I hadn't tourniqueted Carl's hand to a pole. I needed him on the calls, regardless of his issues.

"Move out, crew," Carl said.

I tried to put everything I knew about him out of my mind. Just follow him, I urged my legs. They reluctantly obeyed.

"I missed the dispatch," I said. I wasn't sure if I wanted to follow you.

"It's a female with stomach pain. She's in the wellness dorm."

I ran after him. The wellness dorm wasn't far, and taking the car wasn't worth it. We would get there faster by relying on good old fashioned legwork. I fell behind, trailing Carl by thirty feet. I wasn't sure if it was practice or Darwinism that made the crew chiefs the way they were, but they were consistently faster runners than everyone below them. I tried to close the gap by sprinting. When we reached the door of the dorm, I was gasping, ready to keel over. That was probably the third sign.

Carl stood with his legs shoulder width apart, shoulders solid. "Take a second."

I nodded, afraid I wouldn't be able to make noises that sounded like words.

"Ready," he said after five seconds.

I took another deep breath and said yes, even though I really wanted to sit down for a few minutes so I didn't look like a sweaty fool when I walked in. We took the elevator up. For that, I forgave Carl for making me move before I was ready.

At her room, we knocked to request entry.

"Come in," a voice close to tears said.

We opened to doors and stepped around the clothes arranged by the wind on the floor. Each had fallen in an inconvenient location. I pulled my gloves on and tried to move some shirts away from the patient. I introduced myself and asked her what was wrong.

"My stomach. It hurts so bad." She held her stomach like it would fall off if she let go.

"Carl, can you take vitals?" Delegating was good. "I'm going to palpate your stomach. Just tell me if anything hurts."

She moved her hand away from her stomach, inch-by-inch so I could press on the four quadrants.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," she said.

Apparently, everything hurt. I asked her what she ate: a burger a few hours ago. I assumed it was food related, made an ass out of you and me. I figured that she had gotten food poisoning.