Bold and Brave

Chapter 3: Powerless

When you open your eyes, you can't quite understand what's happened; then you notice the deployed airbags, the shattered windshield, the crinkled hood, and it dawns upon you that Wheein and you have just been involved in a collision.

You try to turn your head and hiss as sharp, blinding pain slices along the spine in your neck. A moment passes before you attempt to move again, more slowly, and the pain is duller this time. The term whiplash comes to mind, and you know that moving your head is going to be very unpleasant for the next several days, but you'll live.

You manage to twist your neck just enough to get a look at Wheein. Her eyes are closed and her head is hanging loosely over her chest, which sends a ripple of panic through you. You move over to her side, call out her name and gently coax her back to consciousness. When she comes to, you quickly assess her condition—mild concussion—and, after ensuring that she is lucid and able to move by herself, call dispatch to inform them of the situation. You then tell Wheein that you're going to check on whoever else was involved in the accident, determined to rip into them should they turn out to be either drunk or the kind of idiot who thinks that flashing lights and blaring sirens only apply to other drivers. The door on your side is stuck, and this makes you even more furious. You wonder whether the universe is playing some sort of sick trick on you as you make your way through the broken windshield, onto the crumpled hood of the ambulance, and down to the street.

A silver luxury sedan has virtually embedded itself into the front side of the ambulance, and you can't help but notice how close you came to having your legs crushed to a pulp. An elderly woman has exited the sedan on the passenger's side, looking somewhat dazed but otherwise unharmed. You approach her and ask how she's feeling, getting her account of what happened while you examine her.

"My husband," she says, gesturing towards the car. "He was driving and just passed out. I tried to wake him up... I tried..."

She shakes her head and hides her face in her hands, and your anger instantly dissipates. You place a comforting hand on her shoulder and tell her that you're going to take care of her husband, your heart squeezing in anguish at the thought of Byulyi bleeding to death on the floor of a coffee shop that is mere minutes from where you now stand. The elderly woman informs you that her husband has a heart condition, but that he has been taking his medication as prescribed, and that he's also diabetic. You head over to the driver's side and find the man still unconscious. You check his pulse—weak but steady—and make a mental note of how clammy his skin feels.

"How's his diet these days?" you ask, and the lady's expression tells you everything you need to know.

"I've told him he needs to be more careful," she says, "but he won't listen to me..." Her face is a mask of guilt and fear, and you feel your anger flare up again at the realization that a man's poor eating habits are keeping you from getting to Byulyi.

"He'll be all right," you tell the woman, fighting hard to keep your voice even. "It's not his heart. He just needs a glucose injection."

"I'll do it," a familiar voice says. You turn your head—pain stabbing at the back of you neck—and meet Wheein's eyes, which tell you that you're not doing as good a job as you were hoping at concealing your mounting frustration. You decide it's probably best for you to get started on the paperwork while your partner takes care of the impaired driver and his distraught wife.

As you make your way back to the ambulance, something catches your eye and you instantly recognize the uniform of the Seoul police. A young woman is advancing towards you, her steps deliberate and her face grave. You know this is Ahn Hyejin before you even get a good look at her name tag, and she nods at you in recognition.