Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

“I have an ambulance on the way, but I’m going to stay on the line with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

A tear leaks down my cheek, mixing in with the rain as I brush my thumb across her face, feeling helpless. “She pushed her; she pushed her over the fire escape railing.”

I hear sirens in the distance and I look over at Phoebe—or where she was before I turned away from her. She must’ve moved in the time I’ve been on the phone.

“Okay, I need you not to touch her. I know it’s hard but please don’t move her in any way if she’s had a fall. I hear the sirens in the background, hold on until they get there.”

I start to tell her there’s nothing else I can do but Amelia’s lifeless face distracts me, the words getting caught in my throat. She deserves better than a dirty alleyway, better than this end.

I hear nearing voices and croak out, “Help! Over here!” Shouting it louder a second time.

“Sir? Are the paramedics there?” the operator asks. Police and paramedics race toward us and I nod even though she can’t see me.

“Sir?”

This time I voice it out loud. “They’re here.”

I stumble backward, my hand landing in a puddle as I helplessly watch them try to find a pulse.

The medical jargon they’re throwing around confuses me and I get the strength to stand up, stepping forward. “What’s happening? Is she gone? Please don’t tell me she’s gone.”

One of the police officers steps in front of me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Sir, I need you to let these men do their job.”

My vision goes blurry from the tears that fall. This can’t be it for her—for us.

I thread my hands in my hair as they strap her to a stretcher, the equipment they’re using blocking my view. “I’ve found a pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there.”

“Let’s move!” the other one replies as he starts to push the stretcher away.

“Are you not going with her?” one of the officers asks me in my daze. “We’ll follow behind and catch you at the hospital.”

I leap into action, running beside her and holding her hand until we reach the ambulance where it slips out of mine as they lift the stretcher up.

I climb in after them and they shut the doors, banging on the front to let the driver know they’re ready to leave. The ambulance starts up and pulls out of the lot, sirens blaring. It all adds to the seriousness of the situation, but a niggle of hope is blooming somewhere because they’ve found a pulse.

I can’t stop staring at her but when one of them starts to put rubber gloves on, I shout, “No! She’s allergic to latex!”

When she told me that little bit of information, I never thought I’d need to tell anyone else. I wish I didn’t have to. This shouldn’t have happened, not to her. Not to the one person who means more to me than I ever thought humanly possible.

He looks down at the gloves in his hands and back at me. “It’s okay, they’re latex free.”

I don’t reply as he puts them on and prods her with needles before placing a mask over her face. She looks completely lifeless and my mind drifts back to before this whole ordeal. How long has this been going on for?

Now I know what she was keeping from me—from us all—I wish I would’ve pushed more. I wish I’d have said that I wasn’t letting her move out on her own and insisted she move in with me, or at least let me help her move.

The packages and all her strange behavior makes sense now. It had to have been Phoebe sending them all along.

“Phoebe!” I even scare myself with my exclamation and one of the paramedics turns to me.

“Sorry, what was that?”

I shake my head. “The woman that pushed her got away. She fell with her though so I think she may be hurt. She couldn’t have gotten that far.”

“When we get to the hospital you can talk to the police. Make sure you tell them everything you know.”

“That’s the thing: I don’t know much. I just know what I saw.” I wince as the sound of their bodies hitting the ground plays through my mind on a loop.

“That’ll be enough for now,” he says before turning back to Amelia and checking her pulse.