The Ambulance

In front of Clement was a very grisly scene: the former club president’s tiny car was practically wrapped around a thick, ancient tree. On the other side of the cracked windshield, he could see rags that were supposed to be airbags, stained by an alarming amount of red. He didn’t dare imagine what could have given them the very singular colour. An ambulance, showering the surroundings with its flashing lights, was hastily parked on the curb next to the wreck, and between the two cars a very heated scene took place.

Clement slammed on the breaks right before the ambulance, overshooting the site by about five meters. He parked on the street without any regard for oncoming traffic, threw the door open and jumped out, leaving it ajar like last time.

“What the hell do you mean you can’t take all three of us? Aren’t your ambulances designed to do that?” he heard Eliza yelling. This meant the two others were alive, so Clement slowed a little to catch his breath.

“I told you, Miss. They’re pulling out older models from storage to try and accommodate the sheer numbers they are dealing with. These things are tiny, I won’t be able to fit into the back myself, with your friend in there.”

Clement rounded the corner, and saw Eliza facing off a tall medic, with Jean leaning awkwardly on the wreck behind her, murder in her eyes.

“What’s going on here? They can’t take you all?”

The medic turned to him, expecting a bit of support: “You must be the other friend she was talking about. Please, calm her down, and explain that we can just take the worst-wounded one.” His pleas were promptly ignored:

“Where is the third? Is he alive?”

“Yes, sir. Safely inside the ambulance. Many broken bones, I imagine, but he is stable.” As he was saying this, he saw Eliza slip past him and towards his truck. Evidently, she was done negotiating with the man. If even she couldn’t tolerate dealing with him, he wasn’t to be trusted or pitied.

“Let’s see the inside of the ambulance.”

“Right away, sir.” It seemed that his hoarse, tired voice had caused the medic to believe that he was much older than he actually was, because along the short walk he made many appeals and excuses to his “maturity:”

“Damned highschoolers. First they race around drunk, and then they call for us to come rescue them. Especially at such a time, when the entire city’s going to shit. Please, tell those women to behave themselves.”

“Oh, I'm sure you would do much better in such a situation. No squirming or whining, just straight, honest business."

The medic continued grumbling, not quite understanding the thinly veiled threat directed at him: “To tell you the truth, I don’t even have to be here. I’m just a volunteer. They called me in because they were short-staffed. Gave me this can of bolts and a partner with a suspended license to haul me around.”

He finally opened the door, and it turned out to be an even tighter fit than Clement imagined: the tiny stretcher that __ lay on was crammed between IVs, heart rate monitors, and a thousand other medical devices he did not recognize. The machines seemed full of life, though, and that gave Clement some hope that the man they were keeping alive would live.

“Guess you’re right,” he said dryly, “I suppose I’ll have to take the ladies.”

“See! And she was giving me so much hell for it, too. I’m just trying to do my best to help, here. That stupid-”

Clement cut him off: “We’re all trying to do our best here. Also, thanks for taking the worst, but my other friends don’t look too great either. Is there any medicine you could give us?”

“Huh?” His tiny porcine eyes darted around, not wanting to meet Clement’s. “I can’t give you anything. Strict hospital policy. They’re gonna be short on everything in a few hours.”

“But they need something. At least fresh bandages and painkillers for a few days. This was a nasty car accident.”

“No, they look alright to me. Tell them to sleep it off, or something.” The fat man confidently dismissed all of Clement’s concerns, as if still in some office or call center.

“Alright? They wouldn’t have called an ambulance if they were alright. One’s got an injured leg and the other can barely stand. Have you seen her?”

The medic’s eyes finally met Clement’s “I apologize, but I cannot give you anything. The most I can do is send another ambulance here, but we are so overloaded… It’s a miracle I got here in the first place.”

Not much of a miracle, given how unhelpful you are, Clement thought. This continued for a few more outbursts, until the young man realized that he would not yield. Guess this will have to be done the hard way, he thought to himself.

“Look, man. I don’t care if you’re a volunteer or a medic, or whatever else, but my friends are in pain and need the meds. I can write an IOU, I can pay you in cash right now, give you stocks, silver, IDs, tools, whatever you want. Name your price”

The medic’s eyes narrowed in disgust: “Young man, that’s called a bribe. Absolutely, utterly reprehensible behaviour. Completely unacceptable. I won’t notify the police about this just this once, but if I hear you using such language again, I will be obliged to do so.

To Clement it was not entirely clear whether he was enjoying the desperation in his request, or had reclassified him as just another high schooler in the improving illumination, someone to be disrespected and ignored just like Eliza was, or he was really that law-abiding and principled, but his face was looking more and more punchable with every such phrase he uttered.

“You are making a very grave mistake.” Clement shifted to a more comfortable stance, preparing to fight for the painkillers. If the word “attitude,” something he had hated from his earliest school days, was brought up, then he would definitely pounce on his adversary.

Then, the disgust on the medic’s face gave way to fear. A figure materialized in Clement’s peripheral vision to his left.

“Painkillers. Bandages. Everything else you can spare. Who knows when you lazy bastards will come back for us.” Eliza passed Clement shakily and loomed closer and closer to the medic, brandishing a hammer from the pickup truck’s toolbox.

Muttering something about how the police would be hearing about this, he handed them a rather hefty bag, then jumped into the shotgun seat of his ambulance with a single “For shame!” The engine started, rather reluctantly, and the ambulance raced away from them, kicking up clouds of dust.

“What a prick. People like that are the reason society is gonna collapse. Putting their stupid trivial rules ahead of the founding maxims of our civilization.” Eliza commented.

“The founding maxims, like threatening ambulances with violence.” Clement commented, dryly, evidently not too proud of himself.

Despite the gravity of the situation, she laughed. “No, idiot. The maxim of sharing with those who need it. Especially when you have an excess.”

“Whatever. Anyways, let’s get out of here in case he actually calls the police. Jean, you good?”

“Oh, yeah, doing great over here.” she said, faintly. Clement was relieved that this usual sarcasm hadn’t left her, indicating some soundness of mind.

“Can’t walk, can you?”

“No.” both young women answered at the same time. “You weren’t here to see her leg, but I assure you, it’s bad,” Eliza warned, “We’re gonna have to carry her to the car.”

This task was much easier said than done, because the pickup truck was raised a good 30 centimeters higher than a regular car would have been. Eliza wasn’t in any condition to help move her friend either, fearing a concussion to have occurred, but she helped out by opening the door and reclining the shotgun seat, until eventually they managed to get Jean into the truck without causing her much pain.

“Where to?” Clement asked, his breathing still uneven from the nontrivial task.

“The closest house to here would be yours, so there, I guess.”

Before Clement could tell her the reason he had left his house in the first place, though, gunshots rang out in the distance. This time it wasn’t just one, but several, from different calibers fired frantically, from the direction of the city. Jean flinched, immediately grimacing because she moved her leg, and the other two crouched behind the car.

“Nope. Observatory it is. I packed enough stuff to go there, anyways.” Clement said in a small voice once the shooting had stopped. The others did not object.