Page 2 of Sebastian

“Hang in there, buddy,” I murmured, trying to offer some semblance of comfort to the patient as we navigated through the smoke-filled street.

It seemed like only seconds before Mercy hospital loomed before us, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos of the night. As the ambulance screeched to a halt, I could feel the weight of the victim’s fate resting heavily on my shoulders.

The back doors swung open and Ellie grabbed the foot of the stretcher.

“Let’s move, Newt!” Ellie’s voice cut through the urgency of the moment, her eyes focused and determined.

Together, we sprang into action, unloading the stretcher with practiced efficiency. The wounded man lay motionless, his breathing shallow and labored, his blackened skin still smoldering with the remnants of the inferno that had nearly claimed his life.

The emergency room doors flew open, and a flurry of activity ensued as doctors and nurses rushed to our side.

“We’ve got a severe burn victim, no ID,” I called out to the waiting medical team, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

With swift precision, the attending ER doctor took control, assessing the victim’s condition and calling out the applicable treatments to their co-workers.

As we swiftly made our way down the short hallway, Ellie gave them a rundown of the patient’s stats when he’d been delivered into our care, and our other observations during the ride over, as well as the procedures we’d followed in the field. Everything was standard protocol and we followed it without even having to really think about it.

“Trauma bay two,” one of the doctors barked, his voice sharp with urgency.

As the John Doe was wheeled into the emergency room, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of relief. We had done everything in our power to get him here safely, but now it was out of our hands.

“Good job, Newt,” Ellie said, her voice soft with admiration as we watched the doors swing shut behind the victim.

I nodded, a sense of pride swelling in my chest. “Thanks, Ellie. You too.” I flashed her a smile as we traversed back though the hospital, exiting the sliding ambulance bay doors with a swish of air behind us.

As we made our way back to the ambulance, the evening air filled with the sounds of the bustling hospital, a reminder of the countless lives being saved within its walls.

Back in the ambulance, even as the tension of the moment began to ease and the adrenaline began to ebb, it left behind a sense of exhaustion mingled with quiet satisfaction.

Ellie and I exchanged a weary glance, the silent acknowledgment of knowing exactly how the other felt in that moment passing between us.

“Another shift on the books,” she said, her voice tinged with weariness.

“Yeah,” I replied, a tired smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “But we made a difference tonight. That’s what counts.”

“We did. Let’s get back to base and get this baby cleaned up again for the next shift.” Ellie flashed me a smile and nodded as she turned the key, the engine of the bus roaring to life before she pulled out into the near silent streets of Baton Rouge.

As we navigated the almost empty streets, the events of the evening played over and over in my mind. The sight of the burning building, the desperate rush to save the victim, and the hectic scene at the hospital—it was all a reminder of why we do what we do.

As the city lights blurred past, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to make a difference, no matter how small. Because in the end, it wasn’t about the glory or recognition—it was about being there when people need us most, ready to answer the call, no matter what the night may bring. And I wouldn’t change a moment of it.

CHAPTER 2

Sebastian

“Sebastian,” the Starbucks barista yelled out.

I swiveled my head around, my heart rate skipping a beat and then giving a one two punch in my chest. I sighed as I checked the drink placed on the counter.

Yep, it was mine.

“It’s just Bastian,” I said as I accepted the cup, but they’d already moved on to the next customer by then and didn’t hear me.

It was just a mistake. There was no way anyone here knew my real name, though my current moniker of Bastian wasn’t all that far off. Really, I shouldn’t be surprised when that kind of thing happened, but I suppose all the years of being hyper-vigilant had taken their toll. Fifteen years of being hunted. Fifteen years of staying one step ahead of the potential danger with my head on a swivel and my brother at my back. Fifteen years of hiding from David Russo and his henchmen. The New Jersey Mafia Boss and his goons had been a royal pain in my ass for a long-ass time.

Really, was it any wonder I startled sometimes when someone called out my real name?

Well, at least my order was right. A flat white with hazelnut. I sighed again, my heart returning to a normal beat beneath my chest.

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