“This is CRT-42. We are inbound to Puyallup-14 with a dwarven male, non-Awakened, multiple gunshot wounds. In shock with heavy blood loss. Vitals unstable. Heart rate variable. BP 42 over zero. ETA two minutes. Uploading scan data now.”
“Roger, CRT-42. Puyallup-14 has a trauma team standing by. Reception bay is clear.”
Max continued to work on the dwarf’s wounds as Rocky relayed medical data to the nearest DocWagon™ medical facility. By the look of things, he’d been shot at least seven or eight times. His chest and abdomen were a bloody pulp. Multiple red lights were flashing on the system, and it looked very grim for the guy, whoever he was. His implants pegged him as a driver, and judging by his gear, this wasn’t the first time he’d been shot at. Not that any of that mattered to Max. The EMT’s job was to get him to the hospital still breathing, and he was damn well going to do it.
Max grabbed the stretcher as the ambulance careened around another corner. He slapped on yet another trauma patch to try to stabilize the dwarf. Rocky continued to apply pressure to the worst of the wounds. As the red lights continued to accumulate, the ambulance pulled into the trauma bay at Puyallup-14. A half dozen medical staff waited to take dwarf. Max lost sight of him as they wheeled him into the trauma suite, but there were least two yellow lights on the monitor before they disappeared.
With a long shift still ahead, Max headed into the break room to get some sofkaf. As he raised the cup to his lips, he realized that he was still covered in the dwarf’s blood. He tossed the drink into the recycling bin and headed off to the washroom. Twenty minutes of scrubbing and a change of uniform later, Max emerged to fill another cup.
As he was walking back to the ambulance bay, one of the trauma surgeons emerged from the clinic. He walked over and got her attention, glancing at the ID badge clipped to the white coat.
“Doctor Brown? How’s the guy we just brought in? The dwarf with the multiple gunshot wounds?”
The red-headed woman looked at Max and shook her head sadly. “We weren’t able to help him, too much damage. I’m amazed he lasted long enough to get here. You guys do good work out there.”
Max nodded solemnly and headed back to the ambulance. He tossed the second cup of soykaf into the recycler as well.
Well, you win some and you lose some. Guess it just wasn’t his lucky day.