In the shadow of Naples

7.

The night in Naples is oppressive and restless. The warm air that had been so pleasant earlier in the evening now feels like a heavy blanket pressing down on my chest. I lie still in bed, my heart pounding in my ears as I listen to the sounds around me. Scooters race through the narrow streets, their engines roaring like predators on the hunt. Cars screech through the corners, and shouting and banging on doors echo through the walls of my apartment. Each sound penetrates deep into my bones, and my breath catches every time the noise comes closer.

Footsteps in the stairwell send a shock through my body. I burrow deeper under the blankets, my breath uneven, and my muscles tensed in fear. The sounds of running feet reverberate in the narrow space, drawing nearer and nearer. Then, to my utter horror, unmistakable gunshots ring out. The sharp cracks are close, like a firefight happening right next to my bed.

My entire body freezes. It feels as though time stops for a moment, and I find myself in an icy silence where my thoughts have no anchor. What if they come in here? What if I... My phone suddenly vibrates next to me on the nightstand. I'm so startled that my heart skips a beat. With trembling fingers, I grab the phone and quickly answer, afraid the sound will give me away.

"Hello," I whisper hoarsely, my voice barely more than a breath.

"Good evening, sorry for the time," says a voice on the other end. "I'm Dr. Rossi, the head of the hospital. We're in complete chaos due to the recent attacks. You officially start next week, but we really need your help now."

The urgency in his voice cuts through my frozen thoughts. "I'll be there right away," I say resolutely, hanging up without further hesitation. It's as if a switch flips in my head. The fear is still there, but now there is a purpose. I need to do something.

With a pounding heart, I leap out of bed, quickly gather my things, and freshen up as best I can. My hands are still shaking, but I force myself to stay focused. I tie my hair back in a ponytail and throw a coat over my shoulders. The adrenaline courses through my veins as I head quickly to the door.

When I open my apartment door, the destruction in the complex immediately becomes clear. The hallways are littered with shards of glass and overturned furniture. The smell of smoke hangs heavy in the air, and I see bloodstains on the floor and bullet holes in the walls. A shiver runs down my spine. "What am I doing here?" I think, as fear takes root deep inside me. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Outside, it's even worse. The streets are a chaotic mess of sirens, flashing lights, and screaming people. Police officers, ambulances, and fire trucks battle against the flames licking hungrily at the night sky. Smoke plumes cast dark shadows against the moonlight. I get into my car and drive through the maze of people and vehicles, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. My thoughts race as fast as the scenes outside my window.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I rush to the department where I will be working. Inside, there's an organized chaos: everyone moves quickly and with purpose, but the tension is palpable. I search for Dr. Rossi and find him in the midst of the action. His face is etched with exhaustion, but his eyes are sharp and piercing.

"Dr. Jones, glad you made it," he says, pulling me aside quickly. "We're dealing with a wave of injuries, many gunshot wounds and severe injuries from explosions