by J. G. Sumner
A Shot in the
Dark
The Dark Series, Book 1
By J.G. Sumner
A SHOT IN THE DARK
Copyright © 2017 by J.G. Sumner.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: January 2017
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-969-6
ISBN-10: 1-68058-969-5
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
In Memory of Ashley.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
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Chapter 1
Skyler
This was it. This was the first day of the rest of his life, when everything would change forever. Skyler Smith had the helmet strapped on and his bike ready to go. He approached the starting line, knowing he had to land each jump perfectly and ride as he had never ridden before in order to get the sponsorship that would finally turn him into a professional motocrosser. Despite his nerves, he was calm and confident he would do well.
Skyler took in the terrain, the desert landscape that surrounded the track, and the brown rocky hills in the background. It was a scorching day, about ninety-eight degrees, but it felt relatively mild, considering it was the middle of summer. He had certainly ridden in much worse conditions. There were other bikers who looked amped up. Many were doing last-minute checks on their bikes and revving the engines. Some were high-fiving people from their team as well as other riders they had developed friendships with. It always amazed him how differently people responded to the stress. Some were happy and carefree while others were nervous and puking on the sidelines. Skyler was always focused and rarely interacted with others as he was getting ready.
He competed in several events throughout the state and was set to race in the upcoming state championships with other professional riders. This day was different. Skyler had a sponsor who was ready to sign him if he had a perfect run on this course. He would finally be able to start bringing in money, so his mom didn’t have to work so hard. She had struggled for too many years to make ends meet. He wanted to take care of her for a change. And really, what seventeen-year-old kid wouldn’t want to be a professional freestyle motocrosser?
It was his turn to go. Skyler got the green light and he took off, ready to show the world he was the best and deserved this sponsorship. The vibration from the engine reverberated through the handlebars. The heat emanating from the bike warmed his entire body, releasing his endorphins.
The roar of the crowd and the intensity in the air only made him more amped. Remaining focused, he raced down the track with sheer determination and adrenaline pumping. He had the course memorized since he had ridden it many times and knew how to take each turn and when to take off on the jumps. There was no chance for failure.
Halfway around the course, and he had landed everything perfectly. The crowd was cheering. He caught a glimpse of the joy radiating from his mother’s face as he rounded the last turn. The big jump was coming up. He had a new trick he was going to perform that would wow the crowd and make his mom proud.
He’d been working on a hands-free back flip. He had never tried it in a competition but had been working diligently at perfecting it, and he had been successful his last five attempts. By landing this trick, he would secure the sponsorship. The jump was approaching quickly, and he revved up the motor to get up to the necessary speed to perform the trick.
As he got to the base of the jump, Skyler noticed the front wheel was wobbling. His first instinct was to panic, but instead he took a deep breath and counted to five to calm himself. All he had to do was make this jump. He could do it. There wasn’t a chance he was going to miss it.
But doubt filled his mind as the wheel became persistently looser. This is bad. Maybe I shouldn’t do this jump. This could end bad. Man, you have to do this jump. This is what you’ve been preparing for.
As he went up the jump and started the flip, the front tire fell off in midair. A moment of panic surged through him and he continued on, not knowing what else to do as he tried to turn his bike around and land on the back tire.
The surprise of the tire falling off destroyed his timing. Instead, he hit the ground with the bike falling on top of him, and that was all he knew.
***
Laney
“Laney to the radio room, stat. Laney to the radio room, stat!” a voice called from overhead.
Laney finished up with the patient she was working with and rushed to the radio room. Dinah was sitting and guarding the radio, awaiting calls from medics looking for orders to care for the patient and directions on which hospital to go to. The radio room was small, with stark white walls and a window overlooking the ambulance bay, allowing the radio nurse to note visually which medics were coming and going. The radio itself was archaic, looking to be something that was designed in the seventies. Laney was unsure of its exact age.
Dinah was one of the senior nurses who had been working in the department for more than thirty years. She was well respected, and all of the staff loved her and looked up to her. Her short curly brown hair accentuated her petite features and perfectly bronzed skin. Dinah was an avid runner. Her rail-thin body made it obvious.
“Hi, honey!” she said as Laney entered the room. “We have a trauma coming in. I would’ve called you on your phone but I got too busy with the calls. I just had the secretary page you.”
“That’s okay. What’s coming in?”
“It’s a seventeen-year-old who was going off a jump with his motorcycle when he was thrown off. He’s unconscious and his vital signs are unstable. Mercy Air is bringing him in but I haven’t had any contact from the helicopter since they took off. Their ETA is seven minutes. I’ll have the secretary page the trauma team.”
“Thanks.” The kids were especially hard for Laney to care for. “Why don’t these kids ever learn? Why do they keep taking these chances? If they don’t want to wear the damned helmet for themselves, then how about they do it for their loved ones?”
“Well, we know he had a helmet on. We can only hope he was smart enough to be wearing some more protective gear. Unfortunately, I was unable to get that information during the report. Dr. Stone is the trauma doc on today, and he’s the best!” Dinah clasped her hands together and produced a big, goofy grin. Like most of the nurses in the ER, it seemed that Dinah was a little smitten with the dashing trauma surgeon.
“Yeah, but he’s gr
umpy too. Not to mention he’s got the personality of a wall.” Contrary to everyone else, Laney was noticeably unimpressed with Dr. Stone.
“But he’s really good looking,” Dinah said with a sigh, looking like she was reminiscing about another time. “If only I were younger.”
Dinah was interrupted by a loud voice coming through the radio speakers.
“San Diego Community, this is eight-six-nine-three. Are you clear to accept a mild status medical?”
Dinah responded promptly. “Copy that, eight-six-nine-three. This is San Diego Community at zero-nine-fifty-three. Go ahead…”
Laney headed to the trauma room. She passed by a couple of the younger nurses flirting with the paramedics. The medics seemed to enjoy the nurses fawning over them.
Laney shook her head. These girls are always looking for the most eligible bachelor. Laney caught a glimpse of Renay, a cute red-headed nurse, pawing at one of the medics and throwing her head back while laughing. Is that what it takes to get a date these days?
Annoyed, she continued walking to the trauma room. As she entered, she grabbed a lead vest to prevent being radiated by the X-rays that would probably be taken. She headed over to the work station, and began to pull out supplies for IVs, and prepare the gurney for the patient’s arrival.
Suddenly, she could hear the loud thumping from the helicopter blades. All right, Laney, here we go. She pinched her cheeks to get more focused. The adrenaline rush that usually kicked in with each new trauma hadn’t made its appearance yet. Rapidly, the rest of the trauma team began buzzing into the room.
“Good morning, Dr. Stone. It’s nice to see you,” Laney heard one of the nurses say.
Oh boy, here we go. Mr. Personality has arrived.
***
Josh
Josh Stone had been on call for seventy-two hours straight and was trying to get some sleep in the apartment he and the other trauma surgeons shared across the street from the hospital when he got the page that a trauma was coming in. Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to remove the lingering fatigue. He splashed some cold water on his face before he drove to the emergency room parking lot. He figured he would just park and go straight home from there instead of having to go back to the apartment later.
The Porsche Boxter S was his dream car. It was a custom black hard-top convertible with Momo rims and Pirelli tires. The interior was tan, enhancing his beach-bronzed skin. The custom Bose sound system was blaring Blink-182’s “Carousel.” He needed something to wake him up and get his heart beating, and this song was the perfect choice. It got his adrenaline pumping and enabled him to care for whatever trauma was going to be coming through the door.
He pulled into the parking lot, noting several different ambulances and police cars in front of the ER entrance. The medics and visitors turned their heads as he drove into the parking space marked ‘Trauma Surgeon.’
He opened the car door and stretched his long legs out as he braced himself for what lay ahead. He rubbed his eyes again. His body was protesting despite his efforts to wake up. Finally, with all the energy he had left, he pulled himself out of his car, ready to try to repair the next human train wreck that was coming through the door.
As he walked purposefully across the parking lot, the noise from the blades of the rescue helicopter vibrated in the air, nearly obliterating the sounds of anything else. It was coming in for a landing. It was rarely a good thing when the patient was being brought in by helicopter. Fortunately, the nurses and medic crew on the helicopter were better skilled and able to perform more procedures than the average nurse and medic.
As he punched the code that opened the doors to the emergency department, he couldn’t help but think of Laney. She was perhaps one of the smartest, kindest, and most beautiful people he had ever met. What made things better was that she worked with him and he could watch her from afar. He liked to know what he was getting into before asking a woman out, so he had been watching her for about the last six months. Josh never randomly picked up a woman in a bar and was always very methodical about who he dated. He loved watching her. She was caring and gentle with the elderly patients and had a way with kids that put them at ease, and she could make an angry kid laugh within seconds.
He had wanted to ask her out but hesitated, knowing that his lengthy hours always led to failed relationships. There were so many birthday parties, anniversaries, and big events he missed because of his work that none of his girlfriends stuck around very long. As a result, he didn’t date much.
As the doors opened to the department, Josh was greeted by a young red-headed nurse obviously awaiting his arrival.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Stone. Nice to see you.”
She was always very welcoming, as were the other single nurses in the department. She was very attractive, with a petite build, long curly red hair, and blue eyes. She sort of looked like Nicole Kidman.
“Uh,” he grumbled as he passed by, as close to a greeting as he could get at that point. Quickly, she turned to some young medics walking through the same doors he just came through with what appeared to be an elderly person with his foot pointing in the wrong direction. Probably another broken hip from a fall, he thought.
He continued toward the trauma room when the loudspeaker overhead came to life and demanded, “Full trauma team to the emergency department, stat.”
Josh stepped into the trauma room and saw most of the team was already present. They had already received a heads-up that the patient was coming before the overhead page even summoned them. He looked around the room and saw the guy from the lab had a cart of needles and tubes for blood; the OR team was ready in case the patient needed to go to surgery; the X-ray tech was handing out lead vests to the entire team to protect against radiation from the X-rays; and most important, there was Laney on the other side of the room. He took his vest and walked over to the bed, where the patient would be placed.
“Laney, what’s coming in?” he asked.
She had the girl-next-door look, with blonde hair and green eyes. She had her hair up in a surgical cap, almost hiding it completely.
“We’re getting a young guy about seventeen coming in from the motorcycle track at Pala Speedway. Apparently he was going off a jump and was thrown from his bike. He was unconscious when the medics arrived at the scene.”
“These kids on their bikes. When will they learn?” Josh shook his head. He continued to watch Laney as she prepared her paperwork for the patient coming in. She was about five-foot seven, late twenties. She had little freckles scattered across her nose. Her blue scrubs were far too big and he wondered why she would wear some that hung off her body instead of something that accentuated it.
Laney switched on the computer and attempted to log in. “Crap!” she muttered.
Over the last few months, Laney seemed to have more and more problems logging onto the computers. She was perhaps one of the most competent nurses he had ever met, but for some reason, the computer always had her agitated. Josh loved watching her cheeks get flushed when she was frustrated; it made her that much more adorable.
“Dr. Stone! Here they come!” the emergency department tech called out.
The helicopter crew rolled their gurney through the door, squeezing the ambu bag that was helping the patient breathe. They rushed into the room and moved the patient from the gurney to the bed.
“What do we have, gentlemen?” he asked.
The flight nurse responded, “This is a seventeen-year-old male by the name of Skyler Smith, who was riding on the dirt bike track at the Pala Raceway. He was reportedly going off a jump when he lost control of the bike. As he fell, it landed on top of him and the majority of impact was on his head and left shoulder.”
Laney and the team began situating the boy. They began cutting off his pads and protective gear. The flight nurse continued. “He was helmeted but was rendered unconscious immediately, according to bystanders. His blood pressure has been pretty stable most of the
trip at about one-twenty over seventy. However, as we were landing, his blood pressure dipped into the nineties systolic. I started a five hundred cc normal saline bolus. The last pressure I received was one hundred over sixty-two. We were able to establish one large-bore IV in the left antecubital. In addition, we immobilized him on a backboard and placed him in C-spine precautions. I was able to palpate what felt like a broken left clavicle.”
Laney grabbed the IV equipment and began setting up to start an intravenous line in the right arm and draw blood at the same time for the phlebotomist, while the ED tech placed the patient on the heart monitor.
The flight nurse started speaking again. “He responds purposefully to pain. There were absent lung sounds on the left side and his trachea was shifting toward the right. We put in a thirty-one French chest tube on the left and got back six hundred cc of sanguineous blood. We’ve been assisting with respirations with an ambu bag but he probably needs to be intubated.”
“Hold the bagging for a minute and let’s see what he’s doing,” Josh ordered.
The respiratory therapist stopped squeezing the breathing apparatus.
“Okay, he has agonal respirations, and his oxygen saturations are only eighty-eight percent. Let’s tube him. I need a seven point five French endotracheal tube and get the GlideScope ready just in case.”
The respiratory therapist grabbed all the equipment and quickly handed it to Josh.
“I need some crich pressure!” The respiratory therapist immediately placed two fingers over the ’patient’s Adam’s apple and applied pressure.
As Josh intubated, Laney finished up the IV, drawing labs, and began assessing the patient. “I don’t feel any pulse,” she called. “And the monitor’s showing he’s in V-fib.”
“Okay, I just about have the tube in. Just one second. I got it! Check for breath sounds, start CPR, and someone get me an X-ray for placement.”
