Page 70 of Amnesia

“I need an ambulance. Amnesia is going into anaphylactic shock. I need help. Now! Behind the general store, in the field,” I hollered and then shoved my phone in my pants without even ending the call.

People heard me yelling and stopped to stare. “I… need an Epi… Pen!” I yelled, hoping someone would hear. “An EpiPen!”

My heart was near bursting out of my chest. I wanted so badly to turn and look back, but I was afraid if I did, I’d lose my shit.

All I could think about was getting her help as fast as humanly possible.

Please don’t die. Please don’t leave me again.

One of the pharmacy employees came rushing out of the store, running toward me. My eyes zeroed in on his hand and what he was clutching.

“Throw it!” I yelled.

He did, and I dove at the medicine, snatching it out of the air and hitting the ground on my side. Upon impact, I bounced up and raced back toward her. She was still lying in the same place, not moving at all.

“I’m coming,” I yelled, my chest about to explode.

Her lips were turning blue when I dropped down beside her, turning her face to look down. Shit, she looked horrible. Welts covered her arms, neck, and face. Her lips were slightly puffy.

“Hang on, baby.” I urged, ripping open the EpiPen and jamming it into her thigh.

The second it was administered, I leaned over her, smoothing the hair away from her face, and I started to pray. Leaning my ear down beside her lips, I listened for the sound of her breath.

Almost instantly, she gasped, and I nearly fell back in relief.

“Thank fucking God.” I moaned and gathered her close to my chest.

I could hear the EMTs arriving and knew they’d be here within a minute. She was breathing now, each inhalation sounding like pure pain, but it was better than not breathing at all.

I held her out, looking down into her face.

“Eddie,” she wheezed.

“It’s okay, baby. You had an allergic reaction. It’s okay now. You’re going to be fine.”

Her body began to tremble, and I hunched closer around her, trying to give her my body heat.

“We need you to move back, Eddie,” one of the EMTs said.

I glanced over my shoulder and frowned. “She’s having trouble breathing.”

“We can help her,” the guy said. I’d gone to high school with him.

As they laid her out flat, her hand reached for me. I sat down nearby, holding her hand while the medics worked.

In no time, they had oxygen on her, her body strapped to a stretcher, and they were picking her up off the ground.

Suddenly, she began to struggle and cry. I heard her screaming something, but the mask on her face muffled her words.

“Whoa,” one of the guys said, and I rushed to her side.

“Am, I’m here,” I told her.

Tears streamed down her face. She blinked up at me, pleading, then struggled against the straps holding her down.

“Unhook her,” I said, flat.

“We can’t,” the man replied.

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