Page 92 of Great White
“She’s dead,” she cries. “He killed her.”
I pull off my shirt and put pressure on the gunshot wound and scream, “Medic! We need a goddamn medic right now!”
“She’s dead,” Dove just keeps crying, repeating the words. She’s in shock and losing a lot of blood fast.
“Stay with me,Tiburona,” I plead with her.
Dove stares up at me with sunken eyes. “Tate,” she wheezes.
“I’m right here.” I beat back my emotion.
Dove smiles faintly. “I think I’m good with the chickens and goats now.”
I laugh through unwanted tears. “We’ll have a dozen of each. And we’ll be happy, I promise. Esta´s enredada con mi alma,” I whisper. “Cuando nos tocamos, las nubes se llenan, los cielos retumban, y la lluvia cae. La belleza de nuestro amor es parte de la tempestad.”
Dove’s smile gets a little bigger and her eyes a little starrier. “The beauty of our love is in the storm.” Her eyelashes flutter, and then her lids close.
“Dove.” I nudge her, tears streaming down my face like a downpour. “Dove, don’t go to sleep. Where is the fucking medic!” I scream again.
Too many minutes later, people flood the room. Paramedics, police officers, and Taylor.
I don’t know how long Dove was down for, but the paramedics had trouble finding a pulse. Everything is moving so fast but also in slow motion. She is bandaged, bagged, and put on a stretcher all while I just watch.
Helplessly.
Completely helpless.
I climb into the ambulance with the paramedics buzzing around the rig like bees.
I just hold Dove’s hand and pray. It’s all I can do right now.
My mother is a religious woman. When I told her I wanted to be a cop, the first thing she did was light a candle and pray to St. Nicholas.
I’m not sure of the saint I should pray to now, so I just cast a wide net hoping one of them will hear me.
A sharp beeping sound begins, cutting my prayers short. The paramedics bump and move, one cursing under his breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“Pulse ox is dropping fast. We need to intubate, or she’s not going to make it to the hospital.”
I watch, again helplessly, as they poke and prod her with things, sticking a scope down her throat, then a small tube. The beeping doesn’t stop once she’s intubated, which makes my anxiety spike.
“Why isn’t it working?”
“She’s lost a lot of blood. She’s fighting right now.”
I gaze at Dove vacantly. I feel like my whole world is suddenly in this little room, and it’s shrinking fast. The walls are closing in and light is fading.
“Dove, please,” I beg her again. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met. You can’t give up now. Stefania wouldn't want you to. She’d want you to live.”
The ambulance comes to a stop, and the back doors swing open.
There are doctors already geared up and waiting for us.
The entire medical staff pulls her out and wheels her away, the paramedics reading in the surgeons on her vitals.
I’m stopped by one of the nurses just inside the emergency room.
