Scream

Reyna Copulas

Nodding, I say, "Alright," before following Aero to room 4516. "Okay, what's going on?"I ask the patient.

I snatch the clipboard from the slot on the whiteboard with a food schedule. Motorcyclecrash. Patient Oscar "Ozzy" Alvarez, 18, was hit by a car while motorcycling down apopulated street. He's allergic to penicillin. Blah, blah, blah...where's the actual injurycount? I flip a few pages before finding it. There are major parts of his body that sufferroad burns and he's suffered from an arm being fractured in three places. I'm about to askhow one of these wounds could've possibly been the culprit for all the blood on Aero'shands when I notice exactly how his arm broke. 

 One of his bones pokes out of his tanned skin, protruding right next to a major artery. The cut bleeds a lot but it doesn't gush as much as a severed artery would. Maybe the wallof the artery was only nicked. "What did you do to do this?" I question, examining thebloody arm. 

"I sat up using this arm," he moans in pain, gritting his teeth.

"Who the hell sits up using one arm?" I question.

"Reyna!" Aero calls. "Not important."

"Right," I agree. "I think a major artery was nicked. We need to get the bone back in place and slow the bleeding down."

"Slow it down? Why can't you fix it?" Oscar questions, eyes a kaleidoscope of various colours.

"I'm eighteen," I argue. "I don't exactly have my PhD."

"And we don't have any machines to give you a proper X-Ray," Aero supports my position. "So slowing it down is going to have to be okay with you for now."

"So, what? Do we just push the bone back down?" I question, hushed.

"I can hear you," Oscar argues. "But yeah, that's what the nurses did."

Aero and I lock eyes – a silent understanding: let's do this. I brace Oscar's arm whileAero pushes it down. I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of bone scraping boneanytime soon. Oscar's groan turns into a shout as it goes back into place. "I'll hold ittogether, you get some medical wrap," Aero demands.

"On it," I say, already ahead of him, scavenging the drawers as if the identity of the killer would be in there.

"Bottom drawer," Oscar supplies

I drop down to the drawer and yank it open. The contents rattle and spill as I toss outjunk I don't need, desperately searching for the wrap. Finally, my fingers close around thetan spool. "Bingo!" I unravel the material and rapidly circle Oscar's arm, Aero moving hisarms when necessary. 

"You said you were eighteen?" Oscar asks, trying to think of something else.

"We both are," I answer, focused on the task at hand...or is it the task at arm?

"You go to Solaris High?"

I nod in response, manoeuvring around Aero's hands.

"I'm transferring there. I was turning onto the road, and I'd never been there before. I didn't see the oncoming traffic lane and – bam! I'm on the ground...bottom line, maybe I'll see you guys around."

Warily, I look at Oscar, unable to say what I'm thinking.

"I mean," he shrugs. "If I make it through the night."

"Yeah, there's that," Aero grumbles.

After I finish wrapping him up, I go to the sink to rinse my hands when I realize there'sno power. No running water, which means..."Is it hot in here or is it just me?" Aeroquestions, fanning his shirt.