Saxon's Savior (Protect and Serve #3) - Pandora Pine Page 0,23
for years. Every possible overdose call I’d get sent to when I worked in Newburyport would have me praying the victim wasn’t Sistine. I wouldn’t have to worry about that happening here in Gloucester.
“Right?” Dallas asked, sounding annoyed.
“I’m sorry, what?” When I turned, Dallas looked as angry as he’d sounded.
“Hey! Eyes on the fucking prize here. This isn’t the time or place for you to be daydreaming.” Dallas turned left. “I asked if you restocked the NARCAN.”
“I did. I always keep it stocked with an extra or two onboard, just in case.” I had good reason for keeping the life-saving medication stocked. Gloucester was one of the hardest hit Massachusetts communities in the opioid epidemic.
Dallas shot me a funny look. One I couldn’t interpret. He wasn’t angry or annoyed, but beyond that, I couldn’t figure out what it meant. Not that I had time to, we were pulling up to the house.
Two Gloucester Police SUVs were parked out front with lights and no sirens. I only had a second to recognize Kennedy before Dallas had parked the ambulance and jumped out. I met him at the back of the ambulance to grab our bags.
“What’s the situation, Kennedy?” Dallas asked, thankfully sounding like his head was in the game.
“Kid came home from school and found his mother passed out on the sofa. Said she was taking her medicine.” Kennedy wore a grim look. “Anders got the call-out and he’s been doing CPR.”
“Jesus Christ.” Dallas looked thunderstruck. It only lasted a minute before he bolted for the house, running as if his life depended on it.
I followed quickly behind. Dallas went right to the patient who was lying prone on a dirty-looking sofa. She was a disturbing shade of grey. I had a feeling the woman was a goner.
A nine or ten-year-old boy stood away from the scene, calling out his mother’s name in a cracked voice. He looked scared, rather than shocked. Obviously a kid who’d seen his mother have a mishap with her “medication” before.
Shoving the littered coffee table out of the way, Dallas set the woman on the equally dirty floor. I watched while he administered the NARCAN, ripping the plunger out of the package and sliding it up her nose.
“What’s your Mom’s name?” Dallas shouted to the boy.
“M-Marcie,” he answered, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Come on, Marcie.” Dallas tapped the side of her face.
I grabbed the AED and charged the paddles. “Anything?” I asked, kneeling down on the floor beside my partner.
“No heartbeat.” Dallas sounded panicked.
“Get out of the way.” I cut Marcie’s shirt and applied the AED pads. They didn’t indicate a heartbeat was present. “Clear!” I shouted before shocking the mother. She remained flatlined.
Dallas started compressions. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face. He was giving Marcie all he had and then some.
“Clear.” I pushed Dallas back and administered a second shock. Still no heartbeat.
Resuming CPR, Dallas shouted her name.
Grabbing the thermometer from my bag, I took Marcie’s temp. It read eight-nine degrees. “Dallas, she’s gone.”
“No, she’s not,” He insisted, with a crazed look in his eyes. “Shock her again.”
I didn’t know what the hell was going on with Dallas. Now wasn’t exactly the time to play twenty questions. “Clear!” After Dallas moved back, I pressed the shock button again. Marcie was already dead, what I was doing couldn’t hurt her anymore.
“Mom! MOM!” the little boy shouted from across the room. I saw Kennedy dart over to him and taking his hand, led him out of the room.
No one knew better what was going to happen to the boy than Kennedy and his brothers.
The AED showed Marcie was still flatlined. I knew she wouldn’t be coming back.
“Grab another dose of NARCAN!” Dallas ordered as he started chest compressions again.
“No. Dallas, she’s gone. We have to let Marcie rest in peace.”
“She’s not gone. We have to keep trying.” Dallas moved from her body to rummage around in his bag for another dose of NARCAN.
I couldn’t let him waste another one. “Dallas, stop.” I wrestled the med-pack from his hands and chucked it into my bag. “Let’s go outside. The cops need to do their job.”
“No!” Dallas shouted. He cocked back his fist and swung at me, connecting solidly with the left side of my jaw.
“Jesus Christ!” Without stopping to think what I was doing, I hauled Dallas over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and headed for the door. Ozzy and Kennedy ran toward us as I walked down the front steps.