Finally Home

26. Tyler

Light. Rolling. Then darkness.

And then blue and red lights and pain. What happened. Where was I? Where's Sam?"

I tried to get my bearings and looked around. I'm in the truck. But there's something wrong. I'm sort of, hanging? I looked out the windshield but it was cracked. When did that happen? I'm going to have to get that replaced. Ugh.

There's something wrong with the way outside looks. If I look out the driver side window, I can see the sky. Too much sky. I looked over at Samantha. She was against the window, her eyes closed. Was she sleeping? And why couldn't I see out her window?

Voices. I can hear voices. They're calling out but they sound far away. Suddenly, a face appears in the windshield through the cracks.

"This one's conscious!" I hear someone yell.

"Sir," they say, looking at me. "Sir, please stay still. Try not to move your head too much. You've been in an accident and we're going to get you out. Is there anyone else in the car with you?"

"Sam," I whispered. It hurt to talk. It hurt to breathe.

"Is Sam your son?" The person asked.

"Daughter," I said. "Samantha."

"Okay. Is Samantha okay? Is she awake?"

"Sam? Honey? Can you hear me?"

I tried to look over but the person told me not to move my head.

"She's not answering," I said.

"Okay. How old is your daughter? How old is Samantha?"

"Um, 16. She's 16," I said.

"Okay, great. And can you tell me your name?"

"Tyler," I groaned out. My chest felt like it was on fire.

"Okay, Tyler. I'm Eric. You're doing great. Stay with me. Does Samantha have any medical conditions we need to be aware of?"

"She. She's diabetic. Type one. She has a pump and a monitor. It's getting late. She's going to need a snack."

"Okay, we'll worry about a snack when we get you guys out of there, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, as Eric got blurry.

"Stay with me Tyler. Where were you guys coming from?"

"Cavs," I groaned.

"You were at the game tonight? How was it. Did the Cavs win?"

"I think so," I said. "I forget the score though."

"That's okay. Do you remember who they played?"

"Toronto, I think. The dinosaur team," I said.

"Must have been a good game," the person said. Did he say his name was Eric? "Okay, Tyler, we're going to get your door open. I need you to stay perfectly still. When we get your door open, I'm going to put a collar around your neck to keep it stable. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, trying to close my eyes. I was so tired.

"Tyler, don't close your eyes. I need you to stay with me, okay?"

"Uh huh," I said, blinking hard to try to stay awake.

"Sam, come on. Time to get out of the car." I reached for her.

My door was pulled open and strong hands fit a collar around my neck. Another set of strong arms wrapped around my chest. I cried out. It made my chest hurt so much more.

"Tyler, we're going to pull you out so we can get a good look at you and get to Sam, okay? I know it might hurt some, but we need to get you out."

"Okay," I groaned again.

It hurt a lot, but somehow I found myself lying on a board but on something soft. There were people all over. Mostly trying to do something to my truck.

"Tyler?" Eric said, coming into my line of sight. "Samantha is trapped in her seat. We have to cut the roof off your car to get her out, okay?"

"It's a car. Get Sam," I said.

He nodded at me and then signalled something to someone behind him. I heard a loud piece of machinery start up.

Paramedics were checking me out, checking my eyes, my head, asking me questions, feeling my arms and legs and chest. I cried out when they pressed on my chest on the side.

"Broken ribs," someone said. "Flail chest. Arms and legs are intact. Might have a concussion. BP is 140/90, heart rate is 129. I'll chalk that up to adrenaline for now. Let's keep an eye on that and start an IV. Give him some oxygen to supplement. No guarding in the abdomen. No pain response on palpation. Pupils are equal and reactive bilaterally. Small laceration just above the hairline. Might not need stitches."

"Sam?" I asked.

"Who's Sam?" The person asked.

"His daughter. They're cutting her out right now."

"Tyler, they're going to get Sam out soon, okay. We have to get you to the hospital."

"Is Sam okay? I need to know if Sam is okay!" I cried. I didn't care about the pain in my chest.

"Tyler," Eric said. "Look, they're pulling her out now."

I was on a backboard and tied down, so they turned me over onto my side so I could see. Sam was lying on the pavement. Her eyes were closed. Blood was coming from, somewhere. Her face was covered in it. She was like a rag doll.

"Sam!" I cried out. "Sam! It's Dad! Wake up!"

I watched as the firefighters beside her started doing chest compressions.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I cried. "Sam! Wake up! Please Sam!"

"Let's get him out of here," I heard a voice say. Before they put be back on my back I saw the firefighters setting up an AED. Sam's heart wasn't beating.

"Sam!" I cried as they wheeled me into the ambulance.