“I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Does that mean we’re scrapping the plan?”
“No. Just wanted to get that off my chest.”
An EMT emerges from the building with an old woman in a wheelchair. He pushes her toward the van as the driver opens his door and steps out. He’s a bear of a guy, nearly seven feet tall, maybe two hundred fifty pounds, the majority of it muscle. Shaved head, broad-shouldered, he’s the kind of guy who probably wouldn’t easily back down, even if a gun were shoved in his face.
“I think we should skip this one.”
Ashley peeks around the corner as the two EMTs open the back and wait for a lift to lower to the pavement.
“The old lady, right?”
“Sure. That’s the reason.”
Once the lift comes down completely, they back the old woman’s wheelchair onto the metal plate and secure her with straps and then stand back as the lift rises into the air. Soon she’s in the van, secured even more, and the lift disappears and the two EMTs climb back into their respective seats.
“Let’s wait for the next one.”
Ashley doesn’t respond.
I glance back to check on her and immediately say, “Oh fuck.”
Eli and Marta are standing there. Eli’s face is red with anger. And in his hand, hidden from the rest of the street but very clear to me and Ashley, is a gun.
• • •
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”
When neither of us answers, when it becomes clear our attentions are focused on the gun, Eli makes an exasperated noise and shoves the gun in his pocket.
I blink and look up at him. “How’d you find us?”
“Why are you here?”
“We’re not waiting around for David to get killed.”
“You’re not?”
“No, we’re sneaking in and saving him.”
He laughs. He glances at Marta but Marta doesn’t seem to find it funny. Her face is pinched, concerned, scared.
The transport van peeks around the corner. It pauses for traffic and then pulls out, headed in the direction of the hospital.
Eli’s smile fades. He watches the ambulance for a few seconds. “Not a bad idea. How were you going to do it?”
“Wasn’t really sure. Figured the guns would come in handy.”
He nods, thinking it over. Another glance toward Marta, who doesn’t speak, and then he says, “I have a better plan that’s potentially less violent.”
“Such as?”
He reaches into his jacket pocket, a different pocket than which he had placed the gun. His hand comes back out with a black object.
“Know what this is?”
“It’s a Taser.”
“Exactly.” He hands it to me. “Now here’s what I want you to do with it.”
forty
It was another twenty minutes-nearly going on two o’clock-before a second ambulance approached the rear of the nursing home.
Ashley stood with John halfway down the block, huddled around a parking meter, John acting like he was depositing coins. Across the block strolled Eli and Marta, side by side, like any older couple out for an afternoon constitutional through the city.
The ambulance was one of those large boxes. It slowed for the turn, disappearing from Ashley’s and John’s view. Eli and Marta could see it from their vantage point, though, and a few seconds later Eli shook his head slightly as he and Marta continued down the block.
No go. This was another pickup, not a drop-off.
And so they waited. The ambulance reappeared and drove off toward the hospital. Traffic-what little there was on this side street-went back and forth. Five minutes passed, then ten minutes. Ashley and John walked up the block, then down the block, taking their time. Across the street, Eli and Marta did the same. They tried not to be conspicuous about it, but anyone watching long enough might scratch their heads at the inanity of their movements.
Finally, after twenty more minutes, another ambulance appeared.
Ashley and John took their positions by the parking meter. Eli and Marta once again started their stroll across the street.
The ambulance slowed to make the turn, then disappeared around the corner. Ashley and John watched Eli and Marta. For several long seconds neither of them made any signal. Then, slightly, Eli nodded once.
Which meant it was time.
• • •
After making its drop-off, the ambulance started back toward the street. It was going at a slow enough speed, the driver pressing on the brake, but still that didn’t stop Ashley and John from completing their part of the plan.
They were headed down the sidewalk, laughing at nothing, giggling at nothing, John reaching out and tickling her side and Ashley doing the same, going for that spot right behind his arm, and John, turning around, jumped back at the same instant the ambulance appeared around the corner.
Ashley saw it all happen. She saw John jump back just as the ambulance appeared and abruptly stopped. She saw that it barely hit John, but still he fell to the ground, groaning loudly. Ashley, summoning all her courage, followed through with her next part.
She screamed.
The driver and passenger scrambled out of the ambulance. At the same moment, Eli and Marta hurried across the street.
There was little traffic passing by now. One car going south and that was it. It passed them as Eli and Marta reached the other side of the street, as the ambulance driver and passenger approached John, who was still on the ground, his face lowered, groaning.
“Are you okay?” the driver asked.
“Sir,” the passenger said, “what hurts?”
Ashley, not quite sure what to do, screamed again.
“I saw what happened!” Eli shouted. “I saw you hit him!”
“Sir”-the driver now, turning to him-“please let us do our job.”
“And what’s that?” Eli countered. “Running over pedestrians?
Ignoring him, the driver crouched down beside John. The passenger did the same.
“Sir,” the passenger said, “we’re going to turn you over now.”
They placed their hands on John, but that was as far as they got. The moment they touched him, John stopped groaning and flipped over, the Taser already in hand. He tased first the passenger, then the driver. It was only a few seconds each, but both the driver and passenger yelled and convulsed and fell back.
No telling how long the after-effects would last-only seconds, according to Eli. Also no telling who might be glancing out their window, or about ready to turn down the street. They needed to act fast.
Ashley and Eli went for the passenger, just as John and Marta went for the driver. The passenger didn’t put up much of a fight, still dazed. The driver, however, growled and tried to take a swing at John. John used the Taser on him again. The driver’s legs buckled and he fell to the ground, forcing John and Marta to half-drag him toward the back of the ambulance.
How many seconds had passed so far, Ashley didn’t know. She had meant to try to keep track but after the first five seconds it all became a blur.
They got the back doors opened and John jumped inside, pulling the driver up with him. Next was the passenger. Then the rest of them were inside, Ashley pulling the doors closed.
It was tight in the back, but still they managed to make it work, keeping the driver and passenger in the middle, both still groaning in pain.
Eli had his gun out, pointed at the two men. “Strip.”
The driver and passenger didn’t move. They didn’t speak. They just stared back at Eli, at the gun in his hand.
“Do it,” Eli said.
The passenger went first, taking off his jacket, then unbuttoning his shirt, then his pants. The driver followed suit a few seconds later.
Marta and John, meanwhile, rummaged through the supplies lining the side of the ambulance. They came away with some straps. John held them up. Eli nodded and told the driver and passenger to set the clothes aside and lay down.
“What is this all about?” the driver asked.