Page 71 of Amnesia

“Unhook her!” I yelled and started doing it myself.

“You can’t do that!” the man demanded, and I nearly busted him in the face.

“She’s freaking out about being tied down,” I explained. “Just unhook her.”

“She’ll fall off the board.”

I unfastened her anyway. The pressure of me moving around and her struggling tipped the board, and her body began to slide.

Everyone reacted, reaching for her.

I caught her, lifting her against my chest. “Fix the mask,” I said, and hands were suddenly there, making sure she was getting the oxygen she needed.

“This is against policy,” the man said as I started walking toward the ambulance.

“Sue me,” I growled.

At the back of the truck, I climbed in with her still in my arms and sat down. Her head rested against my chest, the brown of her eyes never once leaving my face.

“It’s okay.” I promised. “I’m coming with you to the hospital.”

She started to say something, her body tense. I shook my head. “Shh, it’s okay. Calm down.”

“Lay her down,” the guy said when he was in the back and the ambulance doors were closed.

Amnesia made a sound and clutched onto me. I pinned the EMT with a stare, and he sighed and sat back. “She needs monitoring.”

“Hook her up while I hold her,” I said.

“Good thing it’s a short trip to the ER,” he muttered.

I ignored him.

Her body was still trembling, the welts looked like she’d suffered some horrible beating, and my stomach rolled just seeing her in this condition. This was worse than the night I fished her out of the lake.

As the ambulance barreled toward the ER, I leaned against the side and let out a deep breath. Suddenly, I was spent, my body completely drained.

Thank God the pharmacy was that close. Thank God this town was small enough they could get to her in time.

Too many close calls with Amnesia. Too many ways to lose her.

I hadn’t been expecting this. Not at all…

It wasn’t just an allergic reaction. What just happened changed everything.

The official diagnosis: allergic to shellfish.

Unofficially: I was tired of almost dying.

The second Eddie carried me into the ER, a team of people surrounded me, some of them I recognized. I was swept away on a gurney, and Eddie was forcibly told to stay back while they stabilized my condition.

How was I supposed to feel stable when he wasn’t right beside me?

I’d been out of it; I still slightly was. My vision was going dark; my lungs refused to expand. My tongue felt as if it had grown about ten sizes, and my skin was on fire.

But someone tried to kill me. And I wasn’t talking about the lobster roll.

Actually, okay, they hadn’t tried to kill me. They just stood over me and literally wished I would die. Also, they were angry I cut my hair.

---