Trigger Discipline (Team Oh Sh!t #1)

Chapter 1

RADIO SILENCE

Blake always thought he would be dead when the world ended.

After all, isn’t the sun just one giant explosion?

A ticking time bomb waiting to blow, taking the solar system and all life as they know it with it.

That was a terrifying thought. But when the clock was counting down from eight billion years—well, you’d have to forgive his hubris in thinking the end of the world would have nothing to do with him.

Whenever a major world event occurred, everyone always asked, ‘what were you doing?’ Where were you when the Berlin Wall fell? When President Clinton looked into the camera and denied sexual intercourse with a White House Intern? When those planes crashed into the buildings?

Blake Lewis never thought his response would be that he was sitting in his ambulance, arguing about smoothies on a Tuesday.

“Look, 711 is a classic, but we can’t afford to stand on ceremony. Wawa has all the flavor options and additives.” The ability to add caffeine to his strawberry smoothie negated all other arguments in Blake’s opinion.

His EMT partner Tommy rolled his eyes, slurping the green drink he insisted on sucking down every morning. Allegedly, it had ‘super foods’ or some shit. Blake thought it looked like a puréed Chia Pet.

“Wawa tastes like pre-packaged preservatives,” he responded primly.

“Ok, health freak,” Blake grumbled, rolling his eyes as he finished the final sentence on his report from the last call. “The guy who looked me right in the eye and told me that ‘quinoa tastes better than mac n cheese’ does not get an opinion on taste.”

Tommy shrugged, finishing his drink and setting the reusable cup back in the cup holder.

It had been a slow morning. Blake never knew if that was a good thing or not.

On the one hand, it afforded him prime napping time.

Years of working as a paramedic had taught him to sleep when he had the chance.

Against a wall, on the stretcher, head lodged between the window and the oh shit handle—he’d done it all.

The problem with a slow shift meant he felt every agonizing moment ticking by. Like he’d been working for hours when he’d only started at seven. Sighing, he settled back into the seat and closed the Toughbook, making sure it was plugged in and charging before dropping it into the footwell.

Tommy sang along quietly to the radio. Tommy Blevins was probably the least objectionable partner Blake had ever worked with. Competent, respectful, and he used deodorant. It might be that all-natural aluminum-free shit, but Blake would take it.

At twenty, he was nearly ten years younger than him, and his demeanor made him seem younger still. His fluffy light hair was always falling into his eyes, and he walked around with a bright smile and sparkling eyes. Even an early morning was something for Tommy to be happy about.

As much as Blake had tried to keep his work and personal life separate, Tommy had begun to blur the lines.

He regularly came over to watch movies and hang out, one of the few people who could tolerate Blake’s interruptions for behind the scenes trivia and other irrelevant details.

And to Blake’s unmitigated horror, he had bonded with his coworker turned begrudging friend.

Which probably said more about Tommy than it did about him. Tommy was quiet and pleasant, likable.

Blake was not.

If resting bitch face were to be personified and walking around in a paramedic’s uniform, it would be called Blake Lewis.

“Want to go back to the station?” Tommy asked as he drove through the late morning traffic.

They’d just dropped off a bullshit head injury call.

It was always bad when he had to wade through a herd–or was it a pack?

Maybe a pride? Of cats to get to the patient.

But when she complained that her ‘Jesus Loves Me’ sign, held up with a tiny rusted thumbtack, had fallen off the drywall and hit her in the back of her head?

Well. He’d had better calls. Worse, too.

He could practically feel the doctor’s long-suffering stare as he deposited her in the ED bed and skedaddled out as fast as the nurse could sign.

Blake and Tommy had an ongoing bet. They’d start a movie whenever they got back to the station and bet on how much of it they’d get to watch before the next call came in. Tommy had a supernatural sense for that kind of thing. He was currently kicking Blake’s ass.

“I guess,” he answered, looking out over the dewy morning. The sun struggled to pierce through the heavy cloud cover, and it promised to be a still day. “It’s your turn to pick the movie.”

“Sweet,” Tommy smiled as he brushed some hair from his face. “There’s a new documentary on animals in captivity I want to watch.”

He groaned, dropping his head back into the seat rest. “No. No way. I thought we banned documentaries?”

“You said no more vegan documentaries.”

“The last one actually had a woman who claimed she was the Veggie Prophet.”

Tommy bristled. “She was an aura reader.”

“I draw the line at ‘Veggie Whisperers’, Tommy.”

They pulled out of the stoplight and accelerated down a side street that they used as a shortcut.

It didn’t save much time mileage wise, but it avoided the bulk of downtown traffic.

It also had the bonus of driving past a donut shop.

Blake lowered his window to get a whiff of the fried sugary confections.

“This one doesn’t have any vegetables. It’s about the cruelty of animals kept in captivity. They’re interviewing leading biologists and animal husbandry experts.”

Blake sighed as they drove past the donut shop. It was the little things on his shift that made his day.

“Why do they keep making these documentaries?”

“Because it’s important to raise awareness of the subjugation of animals and the cruelty they experience for capitalistic gains.”

Blake didn’t answer. He didn’t disagree with Tommy. Not in the slightest. But humans also murdered each other, so maybe their cruelty wasn’t limited to just animals. Maybe humans were just garbage.

Tommy’s phone rang. He’d set it in the cupholder so the charging cable could reach. Blake reached over and checked the screen.

“It’s your mom,” he responded. “Want me to answer?”

“Sure.”

Tommy’s mom was a surgeon at the bigger hospital on the other side of town. As domineering as she was smart, she often called to check in on her son. Her adult son, who just last month was finally allowed to move into his own place. Blake would never stop mocking him for that.

He clicked the speaker phone and held the phone out toward Tommy. It was against company policy to speak on the phone while driving, but his mother would literally not stop calling until Tommy answered. Blake didn’t mind being a biological hands-free headset if it meant some peace.

“Hello?” Tommy called out, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Tommy!” The call was laced with static. His mother’s voice cut in and out as the line crackled and fizzed. “Get…of town! There’s a…”

“What? Mom, you’re breaking up. I can’t hear you.”

“’m saying…get…town! Now!...north…there’s…”

The line went dead.

Blake glanced at the phone. The screen read, ‘call failed.’ He redialed only to receive a dead tone.

“That was weird.” Tommy glanced over at the phone in his partner’s hand. “Maybe she was in a bad part of the hospital?”

Hospitals had notoriously spotty cell coverage. But there was something strange about the dial tone. On a whim, Blake pulled out his phone and tried to call his dad.

Thumbing through the screens, he looked up to where his service bars were indicated. Instead of a couple of bars, he had a frowny face.

“No service,” he mumbled, looking down to see the same on Tommy’s phone even though he used a different carrier.

“Maybe we’re in a dead zone?”

They drove this route multiple times a shift. Blake had never had an issue with it before. Maybe there was some kind of weird update or something? He powered off his phone, waited thirty seconds, then powered it back on again.

Same thing.

As they got closer to the station, he looked up at the computer mounted to their dash.

Unless they were on a call, it had a map on the screen with their location.

Once a call came in, it automatically connected to the address dispatch plugged in and gave them a route.

Most of the time, Tommy ignored it. He knew the city better than any computer.

The screen was blank. Blake had never seen it blank before. He tapped it, trying to see if it somehow got unplugged. The cord was fastened snugly.

Blake jumped as the radio crackled to life.

“Attention all units: we are currently in a statewide emergency. Prepare to handle mass casualties. More inform—”

The radio popped and then went dead.

Tommy slammed on the brakes in the middle of the road, staring down at the Motorola radio latched to the dash just under the computer. Blake felt his mouth go dry.

“Did she just—”

Tommy reached for the radio. “Dispatch, can you repeat?”

Silence.

The radio was never silent.

Blake felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Tommy kept trying to reach dispatch, his calls increasing in pitch.

Blake felt a small breeze kick up through the open window.

The smell of ozone was strong, and he found himself turning toward it, sniffing.

There was something underneath the ozone. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Let’s go back to the station. We can use the landline there.” Tommy was already smashing down the accelerator; his lips pressed in a thin line.

It was as solid a plan as any. They had a landline and a bigger radio at the station. Maybe the firefighters who were also based with them had a working cell. Or radio. Or something.

Just as Tommy rounded the corner of the building, something boomed in the distance. The ambulance’s wheels squealed as it shuddered. Tommy slammed on the brakes, looking at Blake.

“What the—”

Another boom exploded, closer this time. Followed by another. And another. Blake wasn’t an expert, but he knew they weren’t the sounds of transformers blowing.

Yanking open the passenger side door, he stepped out onto the running board to look back towards downtown.

Thick black smoke was curling up into the sky. Not just in one or two places, but dozens. Now that he was out of the truck, he could hear screaming. Goosebumps erupted along his arms.

Blake knew what a terrified person sounded like.

The screams ripped through the overcast sky. Another boom made him wince as it rocked through him. A skyscraper peeking over the squat buildings began to tremble, wobbling for a moment, before it began crumbling in on itself.

“Holy shit!” Tommy shouted from inside the truck. He was watching from the rearview mirror. “That was the Midsouth Building!”

Blake ducked back into the truck. “We need to get there.”

“But we don’t know what’s going on!” Tommy cried as he slammed the truck into reverse.

“Doesn’t matter. There’s going to be casualties.”

Blake tried not to think of just how many there would be. The MidSouth Building contained forty floors of businesses, and it was the middle of a workday.

“Was it a plane? Or a bomb?” Tommy asked, trying to keep his voice calm as he made an illegal U-turn and accelerated toward the massive cloud of smoke and dust rising into the air.

Blake snatched up the radio.

“This is a call to anyone who can hear: we’ve got an MCI downtown. Repeat, multi-casualty incident downtown.”

The radio bounced against his chin as Tommy hit a pothole. He didn’t get a response. Blake refused to think about what that meant as he leaned forward to look over the dash, while a shadow drifted over the street in front of them.

He looked to the left to see a utility pole falling into the road. Right in front of them.

“Tommy! Watch out!”