Chapter 14

Maybe it vibrated in my pocket and I didn’t feel it. I check my phone again. Nothing. I’ve already deep cleaned the rig to burn off some of this nervous energy. It wouldn’t be so bad if we had some damn calls to go to, but it’s been dead all morning. I read the last three messages over the last three days, and they’ve all been from me.

At the grocery store. Cheese balls are on sale.

Hope you’re having a good day.

Everything okay?

It’s not like he’s stopped texting me altogether, but he hasn’t been as talkative. Before the fire, we would text on and off throughout the day. I’m sure he’s just busy, but with his job, my mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario. I grew accustomed to having a friend. Things didn’t feel so lonely in this small town.

Have I been using him as a crutch? I wince. “Goddamn it, Prescott,” I curse under my breath. I’m falling back into the routine of relying on somebody else. That’s not me. I’m out here because I’m on my own two feet. I angrily shove my phone back in my pocket. No more looking. Friends are everywhere. Go find them. I found the first one at the bar, that’s where all the locals seemed to hang out. Maybe I could find another one there? Or perhaps a coffee shop. There appeared to be a good one in town.

Trudging into the rec room where Matt is watching television, I slump down in one of the chairs. “I’m bored.”

“Whoa! Hey!” Matt shouts, darting his gaze around to check if anybody heard me. “Don’t say shit like that. It’ll piss off the gods, and we’ll be up to our eyeballs in calls.”

I roll my eyes. “The world doesn't work that way.”

“The hell it doesn’t.”

My elbows slip from the arms of my chair, and I tip my head back, staring at the ceiling tiles. I release a frustrated sigh. “Humans just like patterns. They find comfort in coincidences that are mistaken for proof of a higher power.”

Matt scoffs. “Well, aren’t you a delightful little ray of sunshine today…”

My head lolls to the side, then I sit up straighter. “Sorry, just feeling really?—”

“Don’t say the B-word.”

“Fine, fine… But seriously, what’s a girl gotta do to get a patient with a dislocated shoulder or?—”

Tones drop and dispatch cuts through the radio. My face lights up like it’s Christmas morning, and I jump out of my chair.

“Dispatch to Medic twenty-three.” The voice is half static.

Matt points a finger toward me as we head to the rig. “What did I say, huh? What did I say?”

Smiling ear to ear, I wrap my hand around the radio at my shoulder and push the button on the side. “Medic twenty-three. Go ahead.”

I glance over to Matt as we climb into the ambulance cab. “I still don't believe your superstitions.”

“Medic twenty-three, respond to six-four-five Wilson. Six- four-five Wilson. Nineteen-year-old male subject is claiming he was attacked by a… pterodactyl ? Thirteen-twenty.”

Matt overrides the radio.

“Dispatch, repeat last transmission.”

I furrow my brow. What the fuck ? I mouth to him. Did they say pterodactyl ?

“You conjured it. Today is about to suck.”

“Six-four-five Wilson. Nineteen-year-old male subject is complaining of a pterodactyl attack. Suspected drug use. Do you request backup?”

I nod yes. Matt presses his radio and looks me dead in the eye when he says. “Negative. Scottie’s got this one. En route.”

I shake my head. “I don’t do pterodactyls.”

“Today you do.”

I fall to my knees after I walk in my apartment door and kick it shut. I’m exhausted. It started with the teenage patient who ingested approximately 600 milligrams of THC, and ended with a pissed-off Gladys Kravitz with second-degree burns. Apparently, she was so angry her neighbor’s tomato plants were encroaching on her yard that she resorted to M-80s. She’s lucky she didn’t blow her hand clean off. This town is fucking nuts.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I groan. I pull myself up and fish it out with a sigh. Probably Matt giving me shit after the insane day we had.

I see Callahan’s name and flip it open.

Callahan

What are you up to?

Just got home from work.

Callahan

Sorry it’s been busy lately.

No worries. Hope everything’s all right.

Callahan

I think we should talk.

My stomach sinks, but I try to stay positive. I’m picking up a split shift tonight for some extra cash, which means I’ve got roughly six hours left for sleep before I have to be up and get ready for third shift. And I need the sleep.

Sorry, I can’t tonight. Could we meet up for coffee tomorrow morning?

Callahan

How about I stop by your place in the a.m.?

There’s an uncomfortable lump in my stomach. I don’t like the sound of this. Not one bit. I text him my address and tell him that I’ll see him tomorrow.