Crash Into Me (Into Me Series Book One)

Chapter Twenty Four - DOA

"Is somebody gonna fucking help me in here or not?!" I scream, sinking the heels of my hands into the chest of the teenager on the gurney.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...

I feel his ribcage break as I compress, pumping his blood through his body for him. Caroline appears around the corner with a crash cart, her eyes quickly assessing the scene. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" she mutters under her breath. She grabs the defibrillator, connecting the pads to the cord and then to the teenager.

Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, twenty four...

"We need some fucking help!" she yells, turning on the defibrillator.
Brian appears, swiping his hair up, "Good Christ, the hell happened to him?!" He grabs the AMBU bag, pressing it to the teen's face, pushing air into his lungs.
"Stop compressions, analyzing rhythm," Caroline demands. I freeze in place. "... asystole, fuck!"

I shove my hands into his chest again. I look down at him. 16. Just got his license. Was taking his girlfriend out on a date. Beautiful grey eyes that are fixated on the ceiling, devoid of light, pupils fixed and dilated. I stare at his eyes. His girlfriend was DOA. Head smacked the windshield, brain matter was present. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen...

"I'm pushing epi!" Mark yells, appearing out of no where. I nod, feeling my lungs burn as my body begs me to stop. Adrenaline pumps through me. I've been coding bodies none stop for the last hour and a half. We've lost 12 of them. We're getting desperate to save even just one of them.
"Hanging NS wide open through the IO!" James announces.
"Pick up the pace, Jet. I know you're tired, come on! Push! We'll switch next round," Caroline tells me, nodding.

Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen...

I look at her. She stares back at me. I know Caroline almost as well as I know myself. I know this is killing her. She knows this is killing me. I look to Brian, whose face is stone cold and unmoving, streaks of blood smeared on his arms. He stares in the kid's eyes. He looks like Carson.

Twenty nine, thirty. Brian pushes two breaths in.
One, two, three...

"Fill me in, what's going on?" Dr. Rodgers asks, taking the rhythm strip printout from Caroline.
"Sixteen year old male, restrained driver. Blunt force trauma to the chest and face from airbag deployment. GCS of nine on arrival. GCS currently is four. Unknown medical history. Been down for three minutes, last rhythm check showed asystole. One epi is in, no defib given, NS running wide open through the IO. Pupils fixed and nonreactive," I ramble.

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty...

"Fuck!" Dr. Rodgers exclaims, carding his hand through his hair roughly. He fixes the kippah on the crown of his head as he looks at the bed before him with shifting eyes, "Alright, let's do another rhythm check, someone switch with Stark, she's getting tired."

I step back off of the stool and walk around to the other side of the bed, manning the defibrillator. A flat line continues across the screen, "Still asystole."
"Alright, get back on the chest. Give me another epi, push vasopressin, and let's hang norepi, see if the sugar in that can get us some traction," Dr. Rodgers rattles.

Mark switches the empty fluid bag from the pressure bag, so I grab the D5 and norepinephrine. I pull up 4mg, shooting it into the 250mL bag of D5W. I shake it aggressively and puncture the insertion port with the tubing. I prime the line quickly and pull it through an IV pump. I start the infusion as Mark is pushing the epi and vasopressin through the IO.

Caroline continues compressing, counting to herself under her breath. I watch the monitor closely, trying to distinguish if there is a rhythm under the spikes from the compressions. Caroline grunts in frustration, shaking her head at the teenager. I feel for a pulse with compressions and find one. Good. His blood is at least circulating. I look at the IV in his arm and see blood around the insertion site. Panic starts to flood through me as I look at his eyes and ears, where blood slowly trickles down his skin as well.