4.

Hannah

"Can you tell me once more what happened?" The paramedic asks. He's a tall older man, but he looks firm and dependable, so a summary of what just happened rolls off my tongue. However, my focus is on the injured man and the relief that I would get to keep my promise to him.

"It doesn't seem like he's lost a lot of blood, but his pulse is weak, we need to get him in right now," the paramedic is saying, and I'm nodding while wondering what had happened out there, if the injured man had been in a fight, if whatever the altercation was, was worth pulling out a gun for. Different thoughts keep infiltrating my mind when a small tap on my shoulders startles me.

"You zoned out there, but you have to come with us," he says, his eyes slightly narrowing in concern. I drag in a breath and nod.

“Of course, I have to come. I work at St Marie,” I say to the man. He looks down at me, sarcasm blatant in his eyes.

“You don’t say.”

I narrow my eyes at him, holding my tongue because I have to go with them. I made a promise to the man to make sure he lives to see another night, and I have to see it through, so I can’t afford to lose focus.

A cold wind hisses at us as I stuff my phone in my tote, holding on to my now bloodied jacket as the other paramedics, two other younger men and one lady, lift the injured man into the ambulance. A strong urge to look up to the sky again hits me, but there is no way I’m falling for it again. This experience is more than enough for an entire year, ‘cause I’m not about to have something horrible happen to me again. I’m not sure I can take it. From Mr. Green eyes at that bar, to this man getting shot… It’s just too much for me.

I’m taking a deep breath when the sudden halt of the ambulance startles me, shaking and throwing all of us forward a little.

“For Goodness’ sake,” I mutter under my breath. I’m not psychic, but I have a feeling something bad is about to happen again.

I bite my upper lip as I roll the handles of my tote bag twice around my left palm to secure it, leaving out my thumb, all the while keeping my eyes and ears wide open.

“Get out of the car, old man!” A very deep and groggy voice calls out from outside. My body stills, and my blood freezes over as fear crawls into my veins, latching itself to every blood cell it can find until it overshadows the oxyge,n and it feels like I’m choking on my own blood.

“W-what’s going on?” I hear myself—no, a more inaudible, very shaken, very desperate version of myself, the version I was with Connor— say, but I don’t even feel my lips move.

“It seems you’ve gotten not just yourself, but all of us into trouble,” the female paramedic says, rolling her eyes to the back of her head in stark annoyance.

“I-I,” I start to say, but before I can get more words in, the back doors of the ambulance are violently pulled open that they creak at the joints. A harsh gust of wind slaps my face first before my eyes settle on the two hefty men in black; one with his rifle pointed at us, and the other, the one who most likely opened the doors, with his rifle on his shoulder.

“Like someone I know always says, “What do we have here?” The man with his rifle pointed to us asks, a very nasty smirk in his lips as he asks.

My eyes flutter, and in my peripheral vision, I see the injured man lying in front of me, and a clear vision of a rifle pointed at me. I’m doomed.

“Please, sir, we’re not trying to interrupt your… your w-work,” I start to say, and I can feel the disapproving stares burning into me from every angle of the ambulance, but I can’t back down now.

“But we just need to take this man to the hospital, which is not so far from here. I promise we’re just doing our work.”

I don’t even stop the tears that suddenly begin to roll down my face.

“This man… he was shot, and-and he’s dying. I have to make sure he’s okay. I promised him I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Silence meets the end of my words, a loose end so to speak, like I have a full beard the length of Rapunzel’s hair gracing my face, like I am some act in a circus, whose work is to entertain, but I’m the least entertaining.

“Save your grand Wonder Woman speech for your dead grams when you meet her tonight,” the man with the rifle on his shoulder says, a very heavy mocking tone in his voice.

Something must’ve possessed me, because I hurriedly reach into my bag and pull out my phone, waving it at him with no fear.

“If you don’t let us go right now, I’ll call the police. I’m sure they’ll have a field day with your reasons for stopping an ambulance on duty.”

Both men pause and stare at me, clearly amused.

“Is that so?” The one with the rifle pointed into the van asks, and in a blink, my phone is removed from my grip and in the hands of the man with his rifle on his shoulders. I don’t even know how he did that.

“Maybe that’ll teach you to shut your mouth!” the man says and bangs the ambulance doors close.

“What in the world is wrong with you?” the female paramedic asks, her eyes wide and blazing, obvious anger brimming from them.

“Are you stupid or just—” She starts to say, but the passenger door opens, cutting her off.

“Scoot in, will ya?” I hear one of the hefty men say, and the older paramedic scoots in to make space for him, while the other takes the driver's side, leaving the driver outside.

Are they just going to leave him there? What will happen to him?

“What’s happening?” I mouth to the other three paramedics, more to the men, since the female clearly has a bone to pick with me.

“Are you new here?” One of the male paramedics asks, but before I can answer, the hefty man on the passenger’s side rudely taps the back glass.

“Shut your traps!”

And it remains silent, save for the crunching sound of tyres on asphalt, then on gravel, which was an indicator that we had more or less left proper civilization, and we’re in a place where it will not matter if I scream. No one would hear me, and no one will come for me.

I take a deep breath, willing myself to keep my composure, but I fail. My vision blurs, and I hang my head slowly, letting the tears drop. We’re in such a dire situation, but I can’t stop thinking about how I’ve let the injured man down. I promised I wouldn’t let him die, but now I can’t even guarantee my own safety.

The car comes to a complete stop, and no one dares to move, except, of course, our captors. They jump out of the vehicle immediately, leaving us there without so much as a show of concern for the dying man.

“Why did you two return with a whole ambulance?” A strong voice asks.

“Long story short, Boss. There was an accident, but we brought back some spoils,” one of the hefty men replies.

The first man scoffs.

“Fool! That should be the least of your worries! Did you bring him?” He asks.

“Yes, Boss. C called Capo on the way, told him about this little accident,” the hefty guy says.

“You call stealing an ambulance a little hiccup. I’d hate to see what a big hiccup is. Empty the vehicle,” the first man orders, and in no time, the men who brought us here come in, blindfolds and binds us, then leads us out of the van. I don’t even know how to check if the injured man was taken or not because I can’t see a thing. The darkness doesn’t help.

The stench of cold hits my nose the moment I step into what feels like a hideout, and I can immediately tell we’re at some type of warehouse, or a place with an open space, especially with the way the voices of the men echo around.

“You say all these people were at the scene to help him?” The one who speaks sounds like the first man, but I can’t be too sure since I didn’t see his face, and I’m still blindfolded.

“Yes, Boss. This bastard came prepared. He seemed to have bet his life on this one to save him,” I hear, and I can’t help the feeling that I’m the one they’re talking about.

How do I defend myself? I’m a nurse, and it’s my duty to help the sick and injured. I don’t even know the man.

I can’t even speak, because without my eyes to access the situation, it’d be wrong to open my mouth carelessly.

I hear the sound of tyres crunching gravel again, suggesting the arrival of someone, or a group of people? I can’t be so sure, but soon enough I find out.

“Capo is here!” A high-pitched voice announces, and everyone seems to scamper around, as if trying to make last-minute checks to ensure everything’s alright before his arrival.

Then it dawns on me.

CAPO? As in a Mafia head?

“Hopefully not,” I mutter to myself, but it makes sense. Everything makes sense, from the hijack to the rifles, to kidnapping, to a warehouse with more men? Yes, this is something extremely dangerous, like a mafia layout.

The moment the Capo walks in, I feel it. And it has everything to do with his aura, the way the air around us thins, almost suffocating, and then a whiff of pine and whiskey and something expensive and equally dangerous, branches out, forcing itself into what is an already suffocating air, just to prove a point.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

A moment of quick realization hits me. Something tells me I know who that voice belongs to, but I refuse to believe it, because accepting it means accepting defeat…and subsequently death.