Page 29 of Keeping It Professional

“Looks like snow.”

Sophie looked up. “Yeah, guess so.”

“No one knows how to drive in the snow.”

We piled back in the ambulance and drove back to our post. No calls came in, and we sat watching the sun rise. The silence got heavy, and Sophie picked at her sleeve.

“Long shift,” she said.

I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Can’t wait to get home and dive into bed.”

“Yeah, me too.” I covered a yawn. Then it hit me, what if she thought I meant her bed? “My bed, I mean. Not, uh— Oh, man.”

Sophie did a facepalm. I cringed, mortified. The radio sat silent and no calls came in, and we sat marinating in our own awkward sauce. By the end of our shift, we were jumpy as cats, and we couldn’t wrap up fast enough, back at the station. Jones narrowed his eyes at us as he grabbed a clipboard.

“I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s off here.”

I didn’t say anything. Sophie reddened and shrugged.

“Did you guys have another fight? Is that’s what’s happening?”

“Nope,” Sophie said. “We’re fine here. All good.”

Jones looked at her, then he looked at me. “I don’t know what happened here, or what’s going on, but there’s some seriously weird energy up in this room.”

Sophie jumped up. “Well, my report’s done.”

“Yeah, mine as well.” I got up too, and made for my locker. Sophie went for Clive’s office, report in hand. Jones hopped inthe ambulance, but I could still hear him chuckling, and when I glanced back, he shook his head.

“Weird,” he said.

Yeah. Things were weird.

CHAPTER 11

SOPHIE

We got an out-of-town call Friday night, to a crash on a rural road in the middle of nowhere. The local service already had both their rigs out, so when the crash came in, it came to us. We rolled up on-scene expecting the worst — car versus tree on an icy-cold night — but when we arrived, the damage was minor. The car had struck sidelong and scraped off its paint, but not hard enough to set off its airbag. The worst part of the call was locating the driver, who’d got tired of waiting and left us a note.

WENT NORTH FOR HELP – UP TO GAS STATION.

We drove north a few miles and saw nothing but trees, no tracks by the roadside, no hint of life. Miles pulled over at a wide spot and flicked on his high beams.

“He couldn’t have come a lot farther than this.”

“You think we missed him?”

Miles shook his head. “No. I was thinking the snow filled his tracks, but there’s nothing up here. No gas station for miles. I think this fool can’t tell his north from his south.”

We turned around and searched to the south, and soon enough I spotted a figure trudging along kicking up snow. Miles pulled up.

“Hello? You come from that car wreck?”

The driver turned, wiping his nose.

“Yeah. Man, it’s cold. I thought there was a gas station somewhere up here.”

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