* * *
Main Street was beautiful, a real winter wonderland. The city had put up Christmas lights on the telephone polls, snowflakes, candy canes, presents and Christmas trees. I guess most people believed the weatherman about as much as Jason mom, because the streets were deserted. We walked from one end of Main Street to the other, hand-in-hand.
We stopped at one of the few shops that was still open and Jason got a cup of hot chocolate to go. A snowplow went by as we stepped back out on the sidewalk.
"Check it out." Jason said motioning toward the lane where the snowplow had been. "There must be at least three inches already. Some flurries, huh?"
I wrapped my arm around him—he already had his around me and we started back toward the Rover. We stopped and helped push two cars that had gotten stuck at intersections because they had to stop for the traffic light. A serene quiet fell over us as the last one crested the hill and disappeared. The snow squeaked under foot and it was so quite I could hear the flakes hitting the ground.
I looked up at Jason's snow covered hair and imagined him in his mid fifties. Even graying he would be magnificent.
"What?" Jason said, looking down at me.
"You're beautiful. I love you so much I can't put it into words."
We stopped and Jason pulled off his gloves. "You don't have to." He leaned me back against a light poll, caressed my cheeks in his hands and kissed me.
I glanced up at the lighted Christmas tree on the poll over us and then closed my eyes and soaked in everything that was Jason. Neither of us opened our eyes until the scraping sound of a snowplow approached from the side road at the corner near where we were standing. We both glanced at it as it turned down the same lane that the other truck had already plowed. It stopped, and backed up past the intersection with this horrible beeping, then dropped the plow again and continued past us. In the distance, a pair of headlights crested the hill.
"Where were we? Right, I love you, Izzy Faulkner, with all my heart." He pulled me closer and we kissed again. This was truly heaven. I totally immersed myself in the moment.
Suddenly I heard the crunch of ice and at the same instant, the sound of a car engine and then—I was flying. Glass shattered all around me as I regained my awareness. I landed on the top of a storefront window Christmas display. "Jason!" I screamed. I looked to my right and left, but no Jason. In front of me, the crumpled remains of a small car—a ricer, wrapped around the pole where Jason and I had been standing—still no sign of Jason.
I launched myself out of the storefront into the front of the car. It shot across the street, ricocheting off a snow bank. Derrick—blood streaming down his face from a gash in his forehead stumbled out of the car. He took one look at me and ran. I looked down at the base of the poll and saw Jason's coat. I snatched it away, but no Jason.
"Jason! Jason!" Then I spotted him at the base of the building. I was instantly at his side. It was bad—real bad. There was no blood, except a little from his nose, but he wasn't breathing and his heartbeat was so faint. One of his legs was clearly broken, but the other one looked alright at least at first glance. I blew into his mouth, filling his lungs with air and then tore open his shirt. My heart ached as I ran my hands down his sides and realized how many bones were broken. I blew another breath into his lungs.
"Come on, Jason." I glanced up and down the empty street. A small, inconsequential fire erupted under the hood of Derrick's car, flickering in the steam from the radiator that engulfed the car.
I carefully straightened Jason's body out on the sidewalk. When I did, his heart stumbled and then stopped. "No!" I blew another breath into his lungs and gently put one hand on either side of his neck. A gentle squeeze confirmed my worst nightmare—Jason's spine was shattered. I did my best to align the pieces with my fingers and then gently applied traction. His heart started beating, but he still wasn't breathing on his own.
I blew another breath into his lungs. As it escaped, there was a gurgling sound—at least one of his lungs was pierced—probably from a broken rib. A tremor shook his body. I looked back up and down the still empty street. The engine in Derrick's car was now on fire, the heat blistering the paint on the twisted hood.
Could I keep Jason alive long enough to get him to the woods? Not by myself, I was the only thing keeping him alive—I was trapped. I'd swore to never change him, but this was never part of the equation.
"Come on, Jason, you can't leave me." I pulled a little harder on his neck and his heartbeat grew stronger. Another breath filled his lungs and this time I rested my head on his chest—it was his right lung that had fluid in it. In the distance, I heard the scraping of a snowplow. Maybe it was coming back to do the other lane. I continued to breathe for Jason and wait. I spotted his phone, but it was shattered—it didn't matter anyway, I couldn't let go of him to use it. I kissed him and blew another breath into his lungs—the gurgling was the same, maybe worse.
The scraping was closer now. It suddenly stopped, the engine sped up as the driver shifted into a lower gear and accelerated. Finally, the truck skidded to a stop in front of Derrick's car. The driver got out with a fire extinguisher.
"Over hear! I need help!"
The plow driver ran up to us. "Is he alive?"
"Barely. Can you call for help?"
He started to turn back toward his truck, but stopped. "Are you alright?"
"Just call for help—hurry!"
He ran back to his truck and called for an ambulance, saying there was a possible fatality. He put out the fire and then came back to us as I blew another breath into Jason's lungs. "Is he the driver?"
"No, we were walking on the sidewalk. The driver ran down that side street." I nodded across the intersection and then blew another breath into Jason's lungs.
The old guy took off his baseball cap and scratched his head. "If he hit this here pole, how'd the car get all the way over there?"
"I don't know! I don't care!" I filled Jason's lungs again.
"I'll go see how close they are?" He ran back to his truck. As soon as he climbed in the cab, the surroundings started flashing blue and red—at least the police were here although I couldn't see what they could do. The snowplow operator was putting out flares when the police cruiser pulled up, blocking the intersection. "Over there!" The plow operator pointed toward Jason and I.
When the officer got to us, his face went ashen. He knelt down next to Jason.
I filled Jason's lungs with another breath. "You're Officer Burns." I said.
"Yes ma'am—Izzy."
"You remember me—good. Jason is in critical condition." I filled his lungs with another breath.
"I can see that."
"When the paramedics get here, they're going to want to take control. That can't happen."
"And why not?" Said with a different inflection the tone could have been adversarial, but his wasn't, he just wanted information.
"If I move my hands, his heart stops—his spine is shattered."
"But his heart is beating?"
"Yes. Several—if not all of his ribs are broken and there's fluid in his right lung."
Officer Burns looked over Jason's broken body. "And at least one leg."
I nodded and then filled Jason's lungs with another breath.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Trust me."
"You got it. What else?"
"Make the EMTs listen to me—Jason's life depends on it." I nodded toward the intersection. "See if the plow operator has any tools. I think that sign is thin enough we can slide it under him without aggravating his injuries."
"You got it."
Officer Burns talked to the plow driver. He grabbed his tools and went to work on unbolting the sign. Finally, the ambulance and a fire truck arrived. The EMTs grabbed their gear and headed our way. Officer Burns intercepted them at the curb. "She's a med student home for the holidays. You do what she says, here me?"
"We got this." One of the EMTs said.
"No
you don't." Officer Burns said. "This is her patient and that's an order, got it!"
"It's on you then." the EMT said.
The EMTs raced over to us and as they dropped their gear, the one said, "We got him."
Officer Burns was right behind them, but my snarl backed the guy off.
"Okay." the EMT said.
His partner knelt down by Jason. "What do we have?"
I filled Jason's lungs with air. "Broken right leg, fractured ribs—maybe all of them, fluid in his right lung, can't breath on his own, shattered spine—at least his neck, I'm not sure how far down."
"Heartbeat?"
"Stable, now."
"Now?"
"If I move my hands his heart stops." I filled Jason's lungs again.
It was subtle, but the EMT shook his head. "What do you want us to do?"
"I can't move my hands, so you'll have to check his vital signs as carefully as you can. I don't think the fluid in his lung is any worse, but maybe you can listen—see what you think."
"Okay."
The EMTs went to work, carefully checking Jason's vital signs and injuries.
"You pretty much called it," the EMT said, "heart rate is stable and most of his ribs are broken. His ribcage is shifted to the left side. I think we should put a tube in his chest—his right lung might be collapsed from the pressure and we can't rule out internal bleeding. I suggest we start an I.V. to be on the safe side."
"Okay, just don't move him."
"Will do."
The EMTs carefully splinted Jason's leg with an air cast, then inserted a chest tube. Some blood escaped from the tube when they first put it in, but I could tell it helped.
"I can blow more air into his lungs." I said.
"Good, that's good." The EMT held up a rubber airbag with a curved plastic tube attached to it. "Do you want us to bag him?"
"No, it's too much of a risk to put the tube down his throat."
"Right, good call. I'll have to remember that. You doing okay—getting tired?"
"I'm fine."
Finally, they covered Jason with a couple of blankets. "I think we've got him as stable as we can, but how are we going to move him?" the EMT said.
"With this." Officer Burns said, carrying the aluminum street sign.
"Brilliant."
"It was her idea." the plow operator said.
"What year are you?" the EMT asked.
"Senior."
"You're going to make a hell of a doctor that's for sure."
They slowly worked the sign under Jason while the one EMT kept his stethoscope on Jason's heart—it wasn't necessary, I could hear—feel every beat and react with any variation before the EMT could tell me. When we had the sign about halfway under Jason I think the EMT realized it, but he still kept calling out Jason's heartbeat. He pulled the stethoscope away once the sign was completely under Jason. He glanced back at the ambulance and kind of shook his head.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Things awfully rough. An inadvertent bounce might kill him."
"What about the helicopter?" Officer Burns said. "We could take him to the stadium—it has lights."
"I'll see if they're flying." the EMT said and headed back to the ambulance.
"How's he doing?" Officer Burns said.
"He's still alive." I said. "Did anyone help Derrick?"
"Yeah, one of the EMTs got him, he's in the ambulance."
"I think it was an accident." I said. "He lost control going over the snowplow tracks."
"I'll keep that in mind, but you just concentrate on Jason."
"I will." I filled his lungs again.
The EMT came back. "They said there's a break in the weather coming—they'll give it a shot. I told them the stadium—how we going to get him there?"
"The truck, it has a longer wheelbase—it'll ride smoother." I suggested.
"No place to put him."
"Does the backseat come out?"
"We can make it." one of the firemen said. He and the others headed for the truck.
While they worked on the seat, the ambulance left with Derrick. The EMT returned with two backboards taped together.
I shook my head no. "We can't move him like that."
"I know. Here's what I'm thinking. We lift the patient—"
"Jason." I said.
"Right, we lift Jason on the sign and then slip the extra long backboard under him and then you get on the end of it with him. We have enough manpower to carry both of you over to the truck. We'll slide you in and then head for the school. Officer Burns, can you get someone to get the stadium lights on at the school?"
"Already made the call."
"Did anyone call Jason's parents?" the EMT said.
I'd completely forgotten about his mother.
"I'll call his mother." Officer Burns said.
"No!" I called after him. "Let me."
"Okay, kid, be right back."
The fire truck crew and Officer Burns returned at the same time.
"Okay," one of the firemen said, "We're ready for him."
Just like the EMT said, they got the extended backboard under Jason and I, and secured us to it with tape so we wouldn't move. They lifted us and carefully carried us to the truck. The floor of the back seat was almost the same height, so it was easy for them to smoothly slide us in. The doors wouldn't completely close, but we were ready to go.
"Hold on." Officer Burns said, holding his phone up with the number dialed in, ready for me to talk to Jason's mom. "You sure about this?"
"Make the call and hold the phone up to my ear."
He pressed the button. It rang several times.
"Hello?" a sleepy voice said.
"Mrs. Whitaker, this is Izzy."
"Oh, hi Izzy—what's wrong?" Her voice suddenly filled with trepidation.
"There's been a terrible accident. Jason was hit by a car."
"Where are you? I'll—"
"They're flying Jason to the Frederick Emergency room—"
"Flying?"
"It's bad Mrs. Whitaker. Stay where you are, Officer Burns is coming to get you. He's going to drive you to the hospital."
She had started crying hysterically.
"He's going to be alright, Mrs. Whitaker. I won't let anything happen to him. I'll see you at the hospital. Here's Officer Burns."
He pulled the phone away from me with a nod of approval. "Mrs. Whitaker, Mrs. Whitaker, can you give me your address?"
"Let's go," the EMT said as he eased the door closed as far as it would go.