the ambulance and peeked in the back, through the windows. No one in there. He went quickly to the front. He was so strongly anticipating two paramedics sitting in the front seat that for an instant…he saw them. Then he realized it was just EMT jackets slung over the backs of the seats. Maybe they were in the hospital. Helping out. He scanned the dash. Man there was a lot of extra shit in there. Big radio. Some kind of screen, maybe GPS or something. Huh.
He turned at a light, scraping sound from behind him.
The kid was up and coming toward him. Adam’s first thought was, geez, he’s an ugly fucker . The kid’s hair was plastered down on one side and sticking straight up on the other. His tongue was swollen and peeking out between blistered lips. The worst were his eyes: they were glazed looking, almost as though he’d already developed cataracts.
His second thought was: Kid looks dead!
That thought stuck and began to swirl like a slowing accelerating tornado. Once that thought got its full strength, it would be the only one left in his head.
“Yo, kid,” he said. “Your mom is right inside. She’s coming back for you, okay?”
The kid never hesitated, just kept coming toward him at a shambling walk. His eyes never left Adam’s face. Adam watched in surprise as the kid’s bare foot went right over the curb edge and his ankle twisted with a snap, but still he continued his sluggishly steady pace.
“Kid, you better lie down,” Adam said and the tornado was accelerating, accelerating, kicking up wind and beginning to fan the flames of his panic. “Stay back, man, I’m telling you.”
He wasn’t aware of his switch from ‘kid’ to ‘man’, wasn’t aware that it was part of his mind leveling the turf. All he knew right now was that his stomach had tightened and his legs were telling him to move!
But he didn’t and then the kid was on him.
At first, Adam was able to bat him back, pushing roughly at the kid’s shoulders. He wasn’t aware of a high-pitched yelp that was coming from his mouth every time he shoved. Panic was wrestling the blinders down over his conscious actions, readying him for the unthinkable…should the unthinkable occur.
The kid’s efforts doubled and re-doubled; his arms like pistons, he kept coming on. He was snarling and chomping and Adam saw that he had bit off the first half inch of his own tongue. There was no blood, just a blackish jelly that slicked the kid’s lips.
Adam felt his gorge rise. “I’m warning you, man, stay the hell back!” He pushed again and the kid stumbled, the weakened ankle snapping again. Adam shuffled backwards but then the kid was on him again, his foot turned under, the skin scraping off onto the rough sidewalk.
“What the fuck ?” Adam demanded; his voice both loud and weak. How could this be happening? That kid looked dead, he looked dead but he was still coming, still coming on. “Stay the fuck back ; I’m not telling you again.”
The kid’s hands were on his arms and then on his stomach. Adam tried to hold him back, but his arms turned in his hands like muscular snakes and slid forward. The kid was reaching for his shoulders, reaching for his neck. His little hand made a grab at Adam’s windpipe and squeezed and for a brief second, Adam had no air. Reflexively, he kicked out, connecting with the boy’s stomach, sending him back and over. The kid’s head hit the big side mirror of the ambulance with a sound like a melon hitting concrete.
He crumbled silently to the ground. Adam put his hands on his knees and leaned over, a panicked whistle in his throat, trying to catch his breath.
“Danny!” A scream, high and despairing came across from the emergency room doors. His neighbor running over, an EMT running behind her. Adam’s mind cleared and he saw the sad bundle under the mirror for what it was. A little kid, he’s just a little kid. And I killed him, he thought. Now what was he going to do? Get arrested? Go to trial? Go
He turned at a light, scraping sound from behind him.
The kid was up and coming toward him. Adam’s first thought was, geez, he’s an ugly fucker . The kid’s hair was plastered down on one side and sticking straight up on the other. His tongue was swollen and peeking out between blistered lips. The worst were his eyes: they were glazed looking, almost as though he’d already developed cataracts.
His second thought was: Kid looks dead!
That thought stuck and began to swirl like a slowing accelerating tornado. Once that thought got its full strength, it would be the only one left in his head.
“Yo, kid,” he said. “Your mom is right inside. She’s coming back for you, okay?”
The kid never hesitated, just kept coming toward him at a shambling walk. His eyes never left Adam’s face. Adam watched in surprise as the kid’s bare foot went right over the curb edge and his ankle twisted with a snap, but still he continued his sluggishly steady pace.
“Kid, you better lie down,” Adam said and the tornado was accelerating, accelerating, kicking up wind and beginning to fan the flames of his panic. “Stay back, man, I’m telling you.”
He wasn’t aware of his switch from ‘kid’ to ‘man’, wasn’t aware that it was part of his mind leveling the turf. All he knew right now was that his stomach had tightened and his legs were telling him to move!
But he didn’t and then the kid was on him.
At first, Adam was able to bat him back, pushing roughly at the kid’s shoulders. He wasn’t aware of a high-pitched yelp that was coming from his mouth every time he shoved. Panic was wrestling the blinders down over his conscious actions, readying him for the unthinkable…should the unthinkable occur.
The kid’s efforts doubled and re-doubled; his arms like pistons, he kept coming on. He was snarling and chomping and Adam saw that he had bit off the first half inch of his own tongue. There was no blood, just a blackish jelly that slicked the kid’s lips.
Adam felt his gorge rise. “I’m warning you, man, stay the hell back!” He pushed again and the kid stumbled, the weakened ankle snapping again. Adam shuffled backwards but then the kid was on him again, his foot turned under, the skin scraping off onto the rough sidewalk.
“What the fuck ?” Adam demanded; his voice both loud and weak. How could this be happening? That kid looked dead, he looked dead but he was still coming, still coming on. “Stay the fuck back ; I’m not telling you again.”
The kid’s hands were on his arms and then on his stomach. Adam tried to hold him back, but his arms turned in his hands like muscular snakes and slid forward. The kid was reaching for his shoulders, reaching for his neck. His little hand made a grab at Adam’s windpipe and squeezed and for a brief second, Adam had no air. Reflexively, he kicked out, connecting with the boy’s stomach, sending him back and over. The kid’s head hit the big side mirror of the ambulance with a sound like a melon hitting concrete.
He crumbled silently to the ground. Adam put his hands on his knees and leaned over, a panicked whistle in his throat, trying to catch his breath.
“Danny!” A scream, high and despairing came across from the emergency room doors. His neighbor running over, an EMT running behind her. Adam’s mind cleared and he saw the sad bundle under the mirror for what it was. A little kid, he’s just a little kid. And I killed him, he thought. Now what was he going to do? Get arrested? Go to trial? Go
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