Page 28 of What We Break
Brennan gasps and rubs his bald head while everyone laughs, including him.
"Chief woke up violent today," I say, slapping Brennan on the shoulder. "You need some ice for that burn?"
"Get out of here, Garrison."
"Alright, Garrison," Tony says, grabbing his radio. "Ready for another night of weird?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
We head out to check our equipment, running through our usual routine. Tony's been my partner for two years now, and we've got a good system. He's steady, experienced, doesn't panic under pressure. Plus he's got a good sense of humor, which helps when you're dealing with the kind of shit we do on a regular basis.
"So," Tony says as we're checking our supplies, "you gonna ask that nurse out or what? Laine, right?"
"Already did." I try to sound casual, very focused on counting gauze pads. "We went to breakfast this morning."
Tony stops what he's doing and stares at me. "You went out with her already? Like, right after shift?"
"Yeah. You owe me five bucks by the way."
He just shakes his head. "And?"
"And what?"
"How was it, you idiot?"
I can't help smiling. "Good. Really good. She's..." I crack my knuckles, trying to find the right word. "I don't know. Different."
"Different how? Aside from being hot and not running away when butterfly guy tried to take flight?"
"Like she actually listens when you talk. And she's funny. Smart as hell." I realize I'm grinning like an idiot and force myself to focus on the supply checklist. "I don't know. It's hard to explain."
"I fucking knew it!" Tony grins. "You were making eyes at her all night. I'm surprised you waited until after shift to make your move."
"I wasn't making eyes."
"Dude, you're practically glowing right now. It's disgusting."
Glowing? What the fuck.
Before I can respond, our radio crackles to life.
"Unit Four, respond to I-5 southbound, mile marker 194. Multi-vehicle accident, possible entrapment, multiple casualties."
Tony and I look at each other. The light mood evaporates instantly.
"Unit Four responding," Tony says into the radio, already moving toward the ambulance.
"Kinda makes you wish it were a festival call," I say, climbing into the passenger seat.
Tony hits the sirens and we're racing through traffic, everything else forgotten except the job ahead of us.
I know this is going to be bad before we even get there. Multi-vehicle on the highway means high speed impact, which means serious injuries. Maybe fatalities. My stomach tightens as Tony weaves through traffic.
"Mile marker 194," Tony says. "That's the curve right before the Beltline exit."
I know that stretch. People fly through there doing eighty, maybe ninety. If someone rear-ended another car at that speed...
It's worse than I fucking thought. Three cars, one semi truck, and what looks like a chain reaction that started with someone not paying attention. Metal everywhere, glass scattered across both lanes. My brain automatically starts triaging before we even park.
