Page 87 of Rescuer
Jackson nodded and made his way to the other room. Four boys, all around Dylan’s age, sat on a couch that at one time had probably been pristine white but now had dirt and blood splotches in various places.
He started toward them. A girl ran into the room, screaming. “Help! Zack isn’t moving!”
Jackson told the boys on the couch to hold on and ran after the girl. She led him outside to a finished deck. A boy with blond hair and the slightest hint of stubble on his chin lay as if sleeping on the wooden surface. Jackson dropped his bag and knelt beside him.
He watched the boy’s chest. It wasn’t rising. Felt his neck. No pulse. Jackson opened his bag and took out Narcan. Made sure nothing was blocking the kid’s nasal passages and airway and administered the drug into each nostril. While he waited for it to take effect, he grabbed a pair of scissors and a CPR mask. He settled the mask over the boy’s nose and mouth. Next, he sliced the shirt open and immediately gave him two rescue breaths, watching the chest rise and fall, then moved over beside the body, knotted his hands together, and started chest compressions. The sternum and ribs crunched. Better broken bones than dead.
“Go out front. Tell the police officer that as soon as more paramedics arrive, I need them here.”
She hesitated, staring at the boy.
“Go!”
She bolted. Jackson continued with his compressions. He didn’t dare stop now that he’d started. He had no idea how long he’d been at it when Trevor ran out the door and knelt on the other side of the teenager.
Jackson paused, his arms aching.
Trevor felt for a pulse. “I’ve got it!”
Jackson sat back on his heels. The boy’s chest rose by itself. “Let’s get him ready to transport.” Working together, they soon had an oxygen mask in place and had lifted Zack to the stretcher waiting nearby.
Jackson saw the girl waiting anxiously by the door. “We need a name, and we need his information.”
She hurried to them, arms crossed over her middle as if to ward off a chill, and gave his name, age, and address. As they were moving him, Jackson and Trevor passed Eve, who was working on the students who’d been in a fight.
Mark was talking to another group of boys nearby. “Where did you get the drugs?”
“I don’t know, dude.” The boy speaking had a mullet and an attitude. “Wilson Sparrow lives here, not me. His dad had the stuff. He didn’t tell us where he got it.”
Jackson glanced at Mark. He knew that name. Wilson Sparrow was state champion on the wrestling team. Dylan looked up to him. Which meant Jackson had met both the kid and his father at wrestling meets.
“You’re telling me that William Sparrow, the assistant superintendent, has a private stash of Neurosync?” Mark lowered his tablet, his eyes going flat.
“Why are you stopping?” Trevor looked at Jackson.
Jackson hadn’t realized he’d halted. He muttered an apology and kept moving, his mind racing. This was getting crazy.
He and Trevor continued stepping around students milling in the hall like a human obstacle course, then ducked through the door. The air outside had developed a bite. They loaded the teen into the ambulance.
“At least that one will survive.” Trevor sighed.
Jackson knew he was thinking about the boy who’d died. He looked at his friend. “Sorry, Trev.”
Trevor nodded. “It’s always hard when a patient dies. Doesn’t matter if the person is a complete stranger.”
Jackson nodded. “Part of you always feels like you failed and let them down.”
After all the injured had been tended and the police had gotten statements and called parents, Jackson made his way back to his truck. He still didn’t feel like going home. He had so much churning in his brain.
He decided to go for a drive to clear his head and ended up near Swanny’s place. He hit his speed dial and selected Swanny’s name.
“Jackson. What do you know?”
Jackson rolled his eyes. Swanny had picked up that phrase in college. No one else he knew said that in greeting.
“I’m about two minutes from your house. Mind if I stop over?”
“Fine by me. Door’s open.”
