CODE RED; the memory protocol.

1

"Charge to 200!"

My voice ripped through the ER, sharp enough to cut through the noise. Monitors screamed, nurses rushed around me, their scrubs streaked with red.

"Clear!"

The girl's body jerked beneath the paddles. Nothing. The flatline burned across the monitor_one long merciless sound.

"Shit" I whispered to myself. "Charge to 300!" I said again, forcing my voice to stay steady. My palms were slick inside my gloves.

"Clear!"

Another shock. Still Nothing.

The silence that followed was heavy_the kind that presses on your chest like guilt.  "Fuck!" I cursed under my breath, letting go of the paddles and trying to stand straight.

"Time of death..." my throat tightened as I looked at the light blue clock on the wall across the room. "12:48am."
I stepped back and pulled off my gloves and dumped it harshly in the bin nearby. I wasn't supposed to be here tonight, Infact I was supposed to be having dinner with my boyfriend but he said he had to go home, family emergency so I decided to come in for a consult in neurosurgery, a favour from a colleague who owed me one. Somehow fate had other plans.

The girl couldn't have been more than eighteen. Pale skin, blood tangled in her hair, a thin gold chain biting into her neck and a few knifes stabs here and there. Someone had wanted her to suffer.

"Doctor Okoye?"

I turned at the sound of my name. A woman stood in the doorway_tall, serious, rain dripping from the hem of her coat. She flashed a badge.

"Detective Chinwe Bassey, homicide unit," she said. "The victim you just lost...she's connected to an ongoing investigation. A serial case."

I blinked. My eyes a little wide. "Serial?"

"Yeah, the gold chain killings. She was the first one we found alive"

My stomach twisted. I looked back at the girl's still body on the table.

"You said her name?" I asked quietly.  The detective flipped open her notebook. "Pelumi Abibola. Seventeen. A bus driver called emergency services, the paramedics said they picked her up at third mainland bridge."

"That is just sad" I shook my head, my mood already went sour. What a night.

"According to them.." she spoke again. "She kept repeating one phrase_over and over."

I looked up at her again, my expression still the same, sour and angry. Why was I the one who had to loose the girl? Why did I walk in at that moment? So many whys. "What did she say?" I sighed.

She gave me a prolonged stare before she said "code red."
My breath caught before I could hide it. For a second, everything in me stilled. The noise, the light, the movement.

"Are you alright, Doctor?"

I blinked, forcing my voice to be steady. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just...that's a medical term."

"Yes." She replied, her gaze lingered on me for a minute. Before anyone could say more, the sound of horrid footsteps cut through the floor.

"Dr. Isabelle!"I turned abruptly. It was Dr. Smart, the general surgeon I'd come to consult with. " we need you in radiology. The patient_his ICP is spiking, and I need your opinion."

"I'll be right there." I said quickly, grateful for the excuse. It was getting tensed in here.  The detective closed her book, "we'll talk again." Her tone calm but unsure about something at the same time.  I didn't look back as I followed Smart down the hall. But the words_code red_ replayed in my mind like na echo that refused to hide.

Did she mean she was having a cardiac arrest or my code red in my lab? How do I know? The paramedics said she didn't have a cardiac arrest until she was rushed in the er, so it couldn't have been cardiac arrest but how could she have known about my own code red, I've not launched my machine yet.

So many questions ran through my mind as I walked to radiology, regretting all my decisions to come in the hospital tonight.

I tried to shake it off, focusing on the medical chart Dr. Smart handed to me. By the time I stepped into my office, my hands were trembling and my head rang this insistent bell.

Cross.

I sat down and reached for my phone, dialing the one person that knows how to calm me down.

"Cross?"

His voice came through on the fourth ring, low and tired. "Hey baby, it's...late, are you... still at the hospital?" He stammered.

"Yeah" I said running my temples. "You sound tired, are you okay?"

"I've had a long day my love" he nearly murmured. "The other trauma surgeon was out today so I handled a lot of his case and mine."

Cross didn't work at the hospital I worked in, I remember the day I met him, he was elbow deep in a patient's open chest, barking orders like a man who didn't know what hesitation meant.

"Suction...clamp!" He strengthened out his hand immediately and the clamp was placed in them. His voice steady even as the blood pooled faster than the scrub nurses could clear it. I'd been called down for an emergency consult, the patient had sustained severe cranial trauma in a highway accident and they suspected a brain bleed.

I pushed through the OR doors, still in my coat, my hands in gloves raised high as I walked in. "Dr. Okoye, this is Dr. Adewanye" an intern said. "He's leading trauma on this case...he's from Presbyterian hospital."

He didn't look up immediately. His hands were deep in the wound, and when he finally spoke, it was clipped, efficient, sexy. "We've stabilized the thoracic bleed, but we're loosing pressure fast. You'll want to check her pupil_ possible intracranial bleeding."

There was something about the way he looked at me, he was handsome, his long glossy hair seeped out of his black scrub cap, he had very brown eyes. I was a little intimidated when he looked at me, I worried if I have tied my scrub cap well, or if my coat was ironed probably.

"You neuro people always think the brain's the boss" he muttered, almost teasing.

I should have said no when he asked we go for coffee in the cafeteria, but something in his voice_the mix of exhaustion, charm and curiosity, made it hard to walk away. "The cafeteria's coffee is trash." I smiled. My knees literally went weak when he smiled back, he had dimples, his smile was charming, sexy and made me feel lost in our own little world.

"Baby, let's talk later, I'm wiped." And just before I could say anything more, the line disconnected. I look down at my blank screen, feeling the unease crawl back. It didn't sound like him.

I set it down and walked towards my lab, the corridor light flickered as I walked, maybe the generator again or just bad wiring, but it made the whole place feel wrong.

The smell of antiseptic mixed with cold metal hit my nostrils as I pushed the door open. My machines sat in the dark like sleeping beast, monitors faintly humming. I stepped closer, fingertips brushing the edge of the console, and felt a faint warmth.

Someone had been here.

I froze, heart stuttering as the monitor flickered. The main screen lit up for a second. My name sat in the session log.

PATIENT ID; ISABELLE OKOYE.