"What's our ETA?" A pair of tanned hands gripped the steering wheel, their bone construction beneath the skin showing through due to the consistent hold of a tense position.
The guy in the passenger seat glanced at the G.P.S suctioned to the windshield. "It says seven minutes, but at the rate you're driving we'll be there in three." He looked through the glass of his window, watching the trees whiz past at an abnormal speed; more like a blur of green and brown than actual pines. He blinked dizzily, turning his eyes to the road extending before them. "There's a car ahead of us and they're not moving aside either." he nodded ahead.
The driver zoned his vision through the windshield several hundred feet up the highway. "Maybe he hasn't heard the siren yet."
The passenger lifted his eyebrows and dipped his chin at his friend's response. "You think they didn't—common, really?" he chuckled, watching the car grow closer in view. "You're too positive." He shrugged and watched the road, pressing his forehead to the glass of his window to see the driver as their own vehicle merged onto the opposing lane, drifting back into their own when they passed. He glanced down, picking up a water bottle that rolled around on the floorboard, turning back to his friend. "He didn't even seem to notice the siren, or the word 'Paramedics' in bold letters on the hood, rear and sides of this car—truck?" He laughed, turning to his companion. "Jack?"
"Yeah?"
The passenger rolled his eyes. "I said that car back there didn't even—"
"I heard."
He cocked his head. "Then why didn't you—"
"Because I'm trying to control the hair-trigger wheel of a rescue truck going faster the speed limit." Jack's words splattered the air. He smiled briefly, dropping the expression as he meticulously turned the wheel to compensate for the curve in the road. "Give me the report again?"
His companion held up a finger as he drained the remains of the water bottle into his mouth, afterwards replacing its cap, tossing the plastic thing into the back seat. "The chief said he got a call from a witness who saw a crashed car—strike that—sedan." He affirmed, reading the report sent to his phone. "On the side of highway 3, near—"
"Is that it?" Jack cut in quickly. "There." he stated again, their E.M.T rescue unit approached the back end of a smashed vehicle. "What color did he said it was—blue?"
"Yeah, that's it."
Jack maneuvered the truck off the road in behind the sedan, cutting the siren as they slowed to a stop. "We need to move fast." He pulled the key out of the ignition, shoving into the front pocket of his black cargos as he pulled the latch on his door, throwing his feet out onto the sun-bleached asphalt of the road's shoulder, followed by the rest of his body.
His partner stepped out, slamming his own door as he moved to the back, working quickly as he grasped the release of a side compartment that held various paramedic supplies. "Your side safe, Jack?"
"Affirmative." Jack called from the other side of the chassis as he opened the roll-up slot of a storage compartment, grabbed the hand-grip of his E.M.T jump-bag and pulled it out after him as he strode in the direction of the crash. "I'm going to assess the site."
"Proceeded with caution."
"Check." He called over his shoulder, jogging towards the blue sedan. His boots crunched between the shifting bits of gravel strewn upon the shredded grass as he approached the car, his eyes scanning the site for any immediate danger. He didn't want to become a victim too. Jack set his bag on the ground, rotating his gaze up and down the highway for a few moments to insure there were no cars approaching.
YOU ARE READING
The Emotion Game
Mystery / Thriller(Ranked 30th in Adrenaline, and #1 in Whatsgoingtohappen!) Who would you trust in a room full of strangers? How could you tell who had your back and who was hiding a dagger behind theirs to stab yours? E.M.T Jack Rebel was just doing his job. How wa...
