He leaned back to look toward the LuminOptics parking lot through the rear window. They were running towards the truck, pistols held in front of them. Bastards! Kevin thought and yanked open the rear sliding glass. He shifted the pistol to his left hand and fired.
The gunmen dove behind the low retaining wall separating the drainage ditch on the other side from the parking lot.
“Kevin!” Erica yelled. “He’s hemorrhaging. We need to get him to a hospital now!”
He looked at the driver’s door and saw blood dripping from the armrest.
“You take care of him,” he said. “I’ll drive.”
He kept aim on the retaining wall as Erica dragged Murray to the right. She was straining mightily, but gravity was on her side.
“Okay!” she said when she was in position.
He fired the last of the bullets and jumped into the driver’s seat. The truck had stalled, so he had to waste precious seconds shifting it into Park, turning the engine over, and shifting it back into Drive. In the rearview mirror, he saw a head poking around the end of the retaining wall only a hundred feet behind them.
He slammed the accelerator down, but the rear wheel spun in the muddy ditch. Shit! The rear was a live axle; if one wheel was spinning the other wouldn’t turn. He looked down, praying he would find what he was looking for. At first, he panicked, not seeing it. He’s got to have it! Kevin thought. Where the hell is the knob? Then he realized he was looking for the wrong thing. It wasn’t a shifter. It was a rocker switch on the console.
“Thank God!” he said and engaged the four-wheel drive system.
He pushed on the gas again. This time all six tires bit into the ground. The truck wanted to stay pointed straight ahead so he had to force the wheel to the left. The truck bounced as it came out of the ditch and level on the pavement. Looking in the side mirror, Kevin floored it.
Barnett and Kaplan were racing toward them, lifting their pistols to fire.
“Down!” he yelled and heard the hail of bullets hitting the truck bed’s rear door.
They continued accelerating and Kevin raised his head. The gunmen were now 100 yards behind them. Their pistols were now at their sides, knowing that they were too far away to take an accurate shot. Kevin came to the T intersection and turned right without stopping.
“I think we’re okay now. You can sit up.” His father was slumped against Erica. He wasn’t unconscious as Kevin had earlier thought, but he was on the verge. Erica unbuttoned Murray’s shirt, which was soaked in blood.
“How is he?” Kevin said.
“It’s hard to tell. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Should we stop and try to do something for him?” He began to slow down.
“No, I’ve got some pressure on it now. I couldn’t apply it as well when I was crouched down. The most important thing is to get to a hospital as soon as we can. Do you know where one is?”
“I think so. I saw one on the way here. It can’t be more than five minutes from here.”
Kevin wasn’t paying as much attention to the road as he should have been, and the truck hit a foot-deep pothole. The impact jarred Murray awake.
“What? Where are we?”
“It’s all right, dad. You just rest. You’ve been shot. We’re taking you to the hospital.”
“I surprise you?” Murray slurred the words.
“Yeah, you did. Thanks. Now just be quiet. Erica’s taking care of you.”
“After I dropped you off, I saw a car that was near my house this afternoon. Looked like the guy was watching you. I decided to hide and see what he wanted. Trouble.”
“You did real well, Murray,” Erica said. “Don’t try to talk.”
“Saw their guns. Saw them chase you. Had to do something. I…” Suddenly, he began to wheeze, trying to take in huge breaths with great difficulty.
“Damn!” Erica said.
“What? What is it?”
“It sounds like a hemothorax.”
“English!”
“I can’t tell for sure, but I think he’s got a collapsed lung. It’s okay, Murray. Just try to breathe normally. We’ll make you feel better in a few minutes.”
“What do we do?” Kevin asked.
“We can’t do anything. Just get to the hospital.”
Murray continued to gulp for air, clutching his chest. As the truck sailed through a green light doing seventy, Kevin spotted a blue sign with a large capital H. Below it, another blue sign said two miles.
Dr. Jake Hammersmith studied the board, looking to see who could be admitted to make more room in Community North’s ER. In his new position as chief resident, he had to make the tough decisions. Maybe he could get Neurology to take the head trauma in room 3. It was really a toss-up; the man was babbling about miniature robots living in his brain, but Psych had already said they wouldn’t take him without insurance. Maybe if…
The ER door burst open and a man ran in, skidding to a halt in front of Jake. The man was covered in blood.
“I need help!”
“It’ll be okay,” Jake said as examined him for wounds. “What happened to you.”
“Not me! My dad! He’s outside! Come on!” The man ran toward the door, waving for Jake to follow.
“Peter!” Jake yelled. “Get a gurney outside, stat!”
He ran outside with the man. Peter was right behind him with the gurney.
A huge dualie was parked with the driver’s side next to the ER door. “What happened?” Jake said as he climbed into the truck.
A woman in the passenger seat had her arms around a large man who was unconscious. Both were soaked with blood.
“At least one gunshot wound to his chest,” the woman said. “He’s lost over two pints of blood. Possible hemothorax.”
“How about you two?” Jake said.
“It’s his blood,” she said. “We’re fine.”
Jake removed the bundle of torn clothing the woman had been using as a compress. He tore away the man’s shirt and inspected the wound. “You a doctor?” he asked the woman.
“Not yet. Just started my fourth year at South Texas.”
“What’s your name?”
“Erica.” She pointed at her male companion. “This is the patient’s son, Kevin.”
Jake didn’t waste time with formalities. “Kevin, is he on any medications?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s possible,” said Erica. “He has lung cancer.”
Kevin’s eyes widened. “What? How do you know that?”
Before she could answer, Jake said, “Kevin, what’s your father’s name?”
“Murray.”
Jake lightly slapped Murray’s face. “Murray, can you hear me?”
Murray nodded groggily, still struggling for air. Then he passed out again.
They carried Murray from the truck and placed him on the gurney. Jake kept pressure on the wound, knowing it wasn’t going to do much more than keep the gurney clean.
In seconds, they burst into the trauma room. Kevin started to follow them in. Jake was about to ask him to leave when Erica pulled him outside.
“They’ll take care of him,” he heard her say. “We’ll just be in the way.”
An orderly moved the portable curtained partition so the trauma scene couldn’t be viewed from the hall. Still, Jake knew that Kevin and Erica would be able to hear the commotion.
“On my count!” he said. “One, two, three!” They lifted Murray onto the trauma table, and the five doctors and nurses in the room were on him immediately, starting IVs, hooking him up to instruments, and intubating him.
Jake put the stethoscope to Murray’s chest listening for breath sounds. The med student was right about the hemothorax. Breath sounds were present on the right, absent on the left. Blood filling the chest cavity on Murray’s left was not letting his lung inflate.