Page 17 of Doctor Enemy

“I know, but we’ve got a downed power line in the city, and it’s caused all kinds of problems. I’ve got people coming in from all over the place, and Myers never showed up,” says Glenda.

I groan again. “What about—”

“Honey, Robinson is already in here, and we’re out of residents for the ped cases. And we’ve got a lot of them. So get those pretty little Crocs back on, and get in here. We need you,” Glenda says, and then she tells me her goodbyes, and gets off the line.

Olivia’s phone rings a moment later. She gives another over the top groan before she answers it. “I’m at Lori’s. I know. We have to go back in.”

While she’s on the phone, I go and start changing into a clean pair of scrubs. I take a moment to splash some cool water on my face, and redo my hair, trying to look more human and less like I’m coming off of a double and going in for a red eye with only a few hour’s break between the two.

When I come back out, Olivia’s standing at the door with her key ring looped over her fingers. “I’m going to swing home and change. I need to grab a coffee and some take-out on the way too. You want something?”

“I’m fine, I’ll hit up the cafeteria when I get there,” I tell her, snatching up my own keys. “Come on. Let’s get back into the game.”

“I want a pause button for it,” says Olivia.

I laugh. “You and me both.”

We make our way to the stairs and take them two at a time, hurrying out across the lobby–and then we freeze.

Outside, through the big glass doors of the apartment building, is a torrential downpour. The black clouds that had been hanging low in the sky all day must have finally broken loose, and it’s turned the world outside into a dark gray mess.

“God, it looks more like it’s midnight than it does three in the afternoon,” I tell her, rubbing my face again. I’m exhausted enough that my eyes are prickling. “I can’t stand this weather.”

“Rainy season in Seattle,” says Olivia, with a shake of her head. “Can’t ever stay dry.”

She takes a deep breath and then charges outside. I stand at the entrance of the lobby, watching to make sure that she gets into her car and that it starts up alright. She slams on the horn as she peels out of the parking space, her tires spraying up waves of water in their wake.

Then it’s my turn.

I ready my keys in one hand, take a deep breath, and then charge my way toward my car.

My shoes are soaked in a matter of steps, water sloshing up into the sides of them, soaking my socks almost all the way through. The key catches in the latch, just long enough that my light yellow scrubs are turned rain-dark by the time I slide into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut.

“So much for my hair.” I push a few wet strands out of my face and then start the car. I’m much slower than Olivia had been, more mindful of how easy it is to lose control in this weather. On days like this, I wish that I lived closer to the hospital.

My studio apartment is quaint, and it’s not a bad place to live. But it’s small, and it’s a long drive to and from work each day. I got it because I love the building, it's safe, and even more importantly, it's cheap.

Most of the time, the drive is not a big deal. Weather like this always makes me nervous though, and I’ve worked enough back-to-back shifts that I really am tired.

Should Olivia and I have carpooled?

Too late for that now, I suppose.

The road is pretty much dead. The lights of Seattle form odd, dream-like flashes through the heavy downpour as I make my way slowly down the road, trying to spot the speed limit signs so I can stay within five below.

Fingers drum against the steering wheel. I lean forward, trying to figure out if this is my street, or if I’m on the next one. There’s a flash of something bright in the distance. I can barely make it out. Why is it getting closer?

I slow down, thinking that it’s just–I don’t know. The light reflecting oddly off of something.

I realize about ten seconds too late that it’s actually another vehicle, barreling toward me on the wrong side of the road. The car is coming way too fast, too, and it’s a big one. A souped-up truck that shoots straight toward me.

Shouting, I wrench the wheel to the side, and my own vehicle goes careening into the wrong lane.

There’s so much rain on the road, it’s like driving on black ice. The tires skid. Slamming on the breaks does nothing. The first car misses me, but now I’m the one in the wrong lane.

A second one side slams me. It’s enough force to send my car flipping.

Slam!

---