Ambulance Hijacked: Snacks Before Saving Pregnant Woman

Anger and panic surged through me before I could even process what was happening.

"You bought junk food? Are you trying to kill the woman in the back?"

I gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turned white.

The hospital director, Corey Johnston, nonchalantly tossed two huge bags of chips and jelly onto the passenger seat.

He even sneered at the dust on the car seat and gave me a sideways glance.

"Don't raise your voice at me, you brat. My daughter has loved these handmade chips since she was a kid. If I'm late, they'll sell out."

Behind us, the pregnant woman on the stretcher let out a gut-wrenching scream.

Teresa Kennedy, the intern nurse, sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "Dr. Johnston, the patient's blood pressure is crashing, and the amniotic fluid has already drained."

Her hands were covered in blood as she desperately pressed down on the gauze.

"We have to get to the hospital in ten minutes, or we're going to lose both of them…"

Corey just scoffed and tore open a bag of nuts.

He popped one into his mouth, his words muffled as he chewed. "Young people these days are so weak. Back when I was a field medic, women were out harvesting wheat right up until they went into labor. Giving birth isn't some grand tragedy. Don't try to scare me."

As I looked in the rearview mirror at the woman's deathly pale face, my heart raced.

She was drenched in cold sweat, her hair soaked through. She bit her lip tightly, barely having the strength to groan anymore.

She was curled in a ball from the agony, and the sterile pads beneath her were already soaked crimson.

I slammed the gas pedal to the floor, and the ambulance roared forward.

The sudden jolt threw Corey back, and his nuts spilled onto the floor.

He exploded in a rage. "Matthew Brock, are you trying to get us killed? You're ruining my snacks! What is my daughter supposed to eat now?"

Suddenly, he lunged forward, grabbed the steering wheel, and yanked it sharply to the right.

The ambulance swerved violently across the highway, tires shrieking against the asphalt.

Cold sweat broke out across my back as I fought the brakes to keep us from flipping.

"Are you insane? We're on the highway!" I screamed.

However, Corey pointed at my nose with a sense of righteous indignation. "I'm the hospital director. This is my vehicle. You're just a damn driver. Who do you think you are, lecturing me? Now, take the next exit."

I stared at him, completely stunned. "The exit? The hospital is straight ahead. That exit leads to Brackford."

Corey pulled out his phone and checked the time. "My daughter is resting in Brackford. I'm dropping these off on the way. It's only a 12-mile detour. It won't take more than 15 minutes."