Hey there. Here is the latest story in my short story collection, Slums of Buckhead City. I figured I'd share the story here and offer a link to the collection at the end if you are interested in checking out more. If y'all like this one, I may also post more of them here so you don't have to log into Amazon to read them.
I hope you enjoy the story.
The ambulance interior was streamlined and utilitarian, full of the fresh smells of antiseptics and polishing agents. The white walls practically gleamed. You'd never know the night before it had been sprayed with the blood of some corporate exec with multiple gunshot wounds. Hell of a way to terminate an employment contract. His corporate Platinum LifeEtern insurance had also been cut mid-way through the procedure. They had to dump him on the pavement outside a Doc-in-a-Box in a filthy strip mall. No way to know if he had survived.
Rochelle DuPont didn't much care, truth be told. Sure, some of the people she had seen in the job genuinely tugged at her heart, but some silver-haired sleazy office boss who had probably climbed the corporate ladder knifing anyone else who got in his way just didn't elicit sympathy the way a kid might. She stretched her neck and massaged her shoulder, not even noticing the LifeEtern employment patch on her other arm flash over to an advertisement for upgraded health plans.
Her partner, Sasha, didn't care either. She was too busy engrossing herself in a soap opera being projected under her eyelids, occasionally only shifting to chuckle at a joke or gasp as some new revealing storyline. Apparently one of the soaps had just revealed it was entirely a robot's simulation storyline to erase three whole seasons. Rochelle always wondered how Sasha could handle that crap. It was funny to her how different the two of them could be; Rochelle tall and lithe with tight braids, Sasha stouter and muscular with a bob. And terrible taste in television.
The two were sitting in the back of their ambulance as it endlessly executed its predetermined patrol route through Buckhead City's upscale streets. LifeEtern was an insurance and healthcare provider that catered to the high rollers; get stabbed, shot, or set on fire, and depending on your plan, you could expect a quick pick up and quality treatment. There was never any reason to go to poorer districts.
Suddenly the engine roared loudly. Automated sirens kicked on. Sasha opened her eyes and sat up, disabling the soap. They'd had a call.
A small screen embedded in the wall flashed to life, revealing a scruffy man in his early-thirties in a small cubicle surrounded by photos of him and his smiling husband. Noah was one of the local LifeEtern dispatchers; he looked tired as he swapped between a large monitor and the comm screen. “Hey Rochelle, hey Sasha, hope you weren't bored. We got a pickup for you,” Noah didn't sound excited. He had been doing this too long.
Sasha frowned. “You always call during the best parts, man. I was just about to find out whether Johnny was getting a leg amputation from the nun robot explosion.”
Rochelle rolled her eyes in response. “Now that is a sentence I never thought I would hear.”
“Yeah, thrilling,” Noah yawned. “Anyway, it's work time. Looks like a vehicular accident. Automated rideshare made a misread and jumped a curb into a sidewalk cafe. We got a few injured, but don't worry about them. Just one…whoa.” Noah whistled. “Diamond level plan. Don't even bother looking at anyone else.”
“Never do,” Rochelle quipped.
“I know that's right,” Sasha chuckled as the two bumped their fists together.
Noah waved his hand in the air. “I get it, you're professionals. Still, Diamond protocol. Gotta tell the man upstairs. Your ETA is 45 seconds.”
The screen flashed blank. Rochelle and Sasha both immediately shook their limbs to limber themselves up. Sasha grabbed her med bag, while Rochelle tapped in a code on the drone stretcher to prep for rapid call.
The earpieces the pair wore trilled to life. The two medics twitched their jaws to activate in unison. They were greeted by the perpetually frustrated baritone of their executive admin, Charles, a man who seemed to live only in starched suits. If you cut him, he'd probably bleed corporate propaganda.
“Ladies, it's your boss. I have been informed you have a diamond contract on this call. I want you both to know I will be monitoring closely and expect success.”
Rochelle and Sasha exchanged glances. Sasha made a face like she was gagging. Rochelle stifled a chuckle. “Yes, boss, of course.”
His voice remained unchanged. “Excellent, that's what I like to hear. Talk soon, ladies.”
The call cut out, and Rochelle smirked at Sasha as they felt the ambulance slow. “Ladies,” she grunted with enforced depth. Sasha laughed, then stifled it as the vehicle stopped. The rear doors flew open, and both women charged out.
The scene was chaotic. Chairs and tables were flipped over, some smashed to pieces and scattered over cement sidewalk now blackened from tire marks. A four door sedan with aftermarket body mods, someone's bad attempt at a luxurious appearance, sat wedged into the shattered glass window of the cafe. The hazard lights were blinking. People stood by, watching, photographing, murmuring to each other beyond holographic cordons set up by static Gold Shield officers, Buckhead City's corporate rent-a-cops in lieu of city government responsibility. Several bodies littered the street, those unlucky enough to be in the car's way when it came flying off the road. The Diamond was sitting beside a flipped table and screaming about pain as he held his arm close, the only obvious mark on his body being some scuffing on his suit. The flashing lights of several squad cars lit the scene in silhouettes of blue and red.
As Rochelle and Sasha stepped into the mess, a nearby cop looked up with hope. He had both hands pressed to the top of someone's head, but blood was still oozing between his fingers. “Ah, thank God! I need some help over here!”
“Negative! Not our concern!” Rochelle and Sasha both made beelines towards the Diamond, the drone stretcher floating easily behind them. Both women were scanning him, but his only injury was a broken arm. Easy fix, they'd inject the site and have him to the hospital for a nano session. He'd probably be fine in an hour. From the sounds he was making, he'd probably be whining that whole hour too. Corporate suits always whined.
Sasha quickly knelt by the Diamond and was already pulling high end painkillers out of her med bag and removing the sterile paper wrappings off that showed these were only for the premium clientele. The corporate cop was shouting again behind them. “Damn it, come on! This guy is bleeding bad! I need some damn help!”
Rochelle turned to glare at him, “Not a customer, man-” She choked mid-sentence as she caught a good look at the bleeding man in the cop's arms. She'd never met him before, and his injuries had left him a mess, but his face had been all over the photographs of the cubicle she'd been looking at just a minute before. Noah's husband was lying there, bleeding out as a corporate policeman was trying to hold back the tide, and Rochelle realized she could barely remember his name. Rick? Richie? Damn. Her body was already kicking into action. She turned back to Sasha.
“I need a pack of coagulant and a hemobuilder now!”
Sasha had already slotted the painkiller cartridge in the syringe gun and was shooting up their moaning Diamond. She looked up in confusion at her partner. “What?”
“Never mind, there's no time!” Rochelle grabbed the med bag and rifled through for the tools she needed. Even Bronze level could get a coagulant, but the hemobuilders for rapidly regenerating lost blood to keep someone alive kicked in at Gold level. She pulled the packages she needed and was on her feet and running towards the cop in a heartbeat.
Already her earpiece was trilling. She flexed her jaw out of habit. Charles sounded annoyed. “What are you doing, Rochelle? You have a Diamond on site, and I see you're taking Gold level gear to a non-customer. I can't even begin to tell you how problematic that is.”
“I know it's against corporate policy, sir, but I don't have time! I know this guy!” Rochelle was already kneeling by the cop, whose LED name tag read STONE in blue dot lettering.
“I don't care if you do know him,” anger was starting to creep into Charles' voice. “You need to go back to the Diamond. Now.”
“Sir,” Rochelle held her voice almost to a whisper as she looked down at the bleeding man, “it's Noah's husband.”
There was only the briefest of pauses. “And Noah is covered by a Bronze-equivalent LifeEtern company employee plan. That plan does not include spousal coverage. Walk away, Rochelle.”
Rochelle looked at the body before her, then at Stone. He had overheard enough of the conversation; his eyes were locked on her. She glanced over her shoulder at Sasha; same thing, her partner's eyes locked on her, her face worried. The Diamond was sedated. The drone stretcher was prepped, and Sasha could get him on no problem. Bodies still around, the dead from the accident that hadn't been covered by LifeEtern plans. The crowd of onlookers seemed to be holding their breath, seemingly staring at her. Even the other Gold Shields on the scene weren't moving, just watching her now. His name suddenly popped into her head: Ricardo.
“Screw you, sir,” she muttered and used her teeth to tear open the Bronze coagulant packaging. Stone smiled and removed his hands from the wound to let her pour the powder in place. She slid out a piece of sterile bandage and let him press it in place while she opened the Gold hemobuilder injector.
Behind her, she could hear Sasha loading the Diamond onto the stretcher. It was up and flying back to the ambulance in a matter of seconds. Rochelle looked back over at her partner, caught her worried smile, winked in response. Sasha nodded and followed the drone.
Charles suddenly roared in fury, “That's it, you're done! Fired! In fact, IN FACT, you've stolen company property!”
The exec's cries broiled into a mass of angry yelling, and Rochelle hung up on him. She turned to look Stone in the face. “Hey, Officer Stone, can you get this guy to a hospital? It would be a nice favor to me.”
Stone nodded, rising to his feet to motion for another Gold Badge to come help him, not noticing that he was covered in another man's blood. “Yeah, you got it, I can- ah, hold on.” He tapped his radio receiver and looked off into the distance. “Go for Stone.”
The other cops made similar gestures, all staring off into the sky for the same moment. They turned their gazes slowly back to Stone and Rochelle, looks of confusion and concern flashing briefly. Stone glanced between them. Rochelle looked over at Sasha as she sat in the ambulance, the stretcher now loaded. One door swung shut, but Sasha held the other open, not wanting to abandon her friend if she needed her.
“Say again, you say a medic, Rochelle DuPont, stole LifeEtern equipment and used it illegally?” Rochelle's eyes widened, and she stared up at Stone. Stone was staring back down at her. He stood in silence for a moment, thinking.
Then the corners of Stone's mouth turned up in a smile. “That's a negative, I don't see anyone like that here. Caller must have given bad intel. Now if you don't mind, I got a guy I gotta get to a hospital.”
Rochelle stood. The ambulance behind her flared to life, and she looked back to see Sasha wave and close the door. Another Gold Badge jogged over to help Noah's husband. She smiled at Stone. “Thank you,” she said.
“Don't mention it. I didn't see nothing.”
Stone hefted one end of Ricardo, while the other Gold Badge took his feet. The two carried him off towards a squad car. Rochelle watched them go, then turned and surveyed the scene.
Finally, she reached up to her shoulder. Her fingers wrapped around the electronic patch. She tore it away and dropped it on the blood-soaked sidewalk. The last thing it did was flash a final mocking “LifeEtern: Saving Lives is Our Business” before it died.