Lone Wolf

New Abilities

Updated 10/09

The jogging woman had to have called the emergency line, or else it wouldn't have explained why an ambulance whirred into the parking lot right as I stumbled into the welcoming area of the park. Sirens still blared as two paramedics hopped out of the now parked ambulance and surveyed the area for immediate trouble. People, who now started to file into the park entrance to begin their day with a hike, backed away from me, gaining myself more attention. One of the paramedics spotted me and took a double take, undoubtedly making sure I was the person they had been called about. I was still standing and, other than my torn and bloodstained clothes, I felt like I looked perfectly fine.

The paramedic who was first to notice me stared for a moment, keeping his eyes on mine. While I could only make out the features of his cropped, black hair, light brown skin, glasses, and uniform that consisted of a navy button down and trousers, if I focused enough on his body, I could pick up on his heartbeat. It was calmer than the woman I had passed on the trails, but it was still quick with adrenaline for his job. He did the opposite of what I thought he would do, and instead of running to me to ask what was wrong, he stood taut next to the ambulance, facing me. I had never had to go to the hospital before, much less be taken by an ambulance. I didn't know whether I should walk over to them or wait for the paramedics to approach me.

The man and I continued our stare off of awkwardness before someone in the growing crowd around me shouted, "She is over here!" Gaining the attention of the second responder. She did what I had expected and ran towards me. As she ran, I realized how much smaller she was than I was at my five feet and seven inches and wondered how she got into a job saving people that could end up being twice her size. Even with her high, pulled-tight bun, she was still several inches shorter than I was.

"Ma'am, are you okay? What happened?" The woman asked, flicking her fingers above her shoulder—motioning for her partner to come help. Despite being frozen earlier, he was now in motion and pulled a stretcher from the ambulance to bring over to us.

"I do not think that is necessary," I said as I pointed to the stretcher. The more time I spent out of the desert, the more I told myself that I was fine. I felt better now that I had stopped walking, and despite sounding crazy, I felt more rejuvenated than ever. I could feel the blood pump through my veins and my legs twitched to run. My mental state may have been something I was ignoring at the moment, but small victories was how I saw it.

The man carrying the stretcher finally got close enough that I could actually smell him, although I wasn't really that close. Ever since I had left the hiking trails, my nose acted on hyperdrive, and I was able to pick up scents I never had before. I felt like I was in a candle shop being bombarded by every sandalwood and pachouli scent varieties ever made. I tried to breathe through my mouth more than my nose, but it only got worse as I could taste everything in the air.

If the hospital didn't put me in the psych ward, I would admit myself from how crazy I had become. It had to all be in my imagination. No one could taste the air or smell odors from yards away, right?

What made me inhale with the intent to smell all of the odors was the fact that the male paramedic's aroma was stronger than everyone else's and had a completely different underlying scent. From what I had picked up so far, everyone I had passed had different fragrances from their body wash and sunscreen, but they all shared something in common that I couldn't put a name to.

This man did not share that scent.

He smelled a lot like leather seats and disinfectant, which was probably from sitting in the ambulance, but there was also a woodsy pine and dirt odor underneath it all. His clothes were pristine, even wrinkle free as if this was his first call of the day, so I couldn't believe he had been romping through the forest this early morning.