1. Milan Rivers #2
I spun around just in time to see a man stumble from between two black SUVs, one hand pressed tightly against his side as blood oozed through his fingers.
The nurse in me recognized it immediately. There was too much blood pouring to fast… I knew he wasn’t going to make it far.
He looked up and our eyes met. Fear, pain and desperation all wrapped in one flashed across his face before he started toward me, struggling to stay on his feet.
A man dressed in all black stepped out a second later with his gun still raised in his hand.
He started to pull the trigger again then stopped and turned his head … straight toward me. Even from where I stood, I could feel him looking at me.
Not because I'd witnessed the shooting, but because he'd just realized... I'd heard every damn word.
My pulse slammed against my ribs as I stood here frozen, staring at the man in all black with the hoodie.
For one terrifying second, neither of us moved.
He slightly tilted his head, his gaze never leaving mine.
I couldn't see his face beneath the shadow of the hood, but I knew he was still looking straight at me.
"Her." The word was barely above a whisper, but it carried through the garage like he’d shouted it.
Another man stepped out from behind the SUV, his gun still hanging at his side. Unlike the first one, he hadn’t bothered covering his face. I caught the outline of a beard before he looked in my direction.
He asked, "What about her?"
"She heard us."
Shit.
My stomach dropped as I instinctively took a step backward, then another.
Before I could turn and run, the man bleeding in front of me tried to say something, but the words got caught behind a mouthful of blood.
He staggered another step before grabbing the side mirror of a parked car to keep himself from collapsing.
The two men exchanged a look then one of them started toward me. Every survival instinct I had screamed for me to run, but my legs refused to cooperate. The only thing separating us were a few parked cars.
He closed half that distance before the sound of approaching sirens echoed through the garage. Not one… but several. Almost at the same time, the employee entrance flew open, and two hospital security officers came running outside.
"What the fuck is going on?" one of them yelled.
"There!" someone screamed, pointing in our direction.
The bearded man cursed under his breath. His attention shifted from me to the growing crowd filling the garage. Nurses, visitors, security... people were everywhere now.
"Damn," the bearded man then hissed. "We gotta move."
The one in the hoodie didn’t move right away. He looked at me one last time, almost like he was irritated. Like I was a problem he'd have to come back and deal with later.
A second later, both men took off toward a black SUV parked near the far end of the garage. Tires screamed against the concrete as the vehicle sped toward the exit, disappearing before anyone could get anywhere close to it.
Everything around me sounded muffled.
People were yelling. Someone was crying. Another person kept shouting for an ambulance, not realizing we were standing less than fifty yards from one of the busiest emergency rooms in Atlanta.
"Oh my God..."
The wounded man collapsed to his knees and that was all it took to snap me out of my shock.
I dropped my bag and ran.
"Sir!"
He hit the concrete just as I reached him. Blood spread beneath him so fast it made my stomach turn, but the nurse in me took over before panic had a chance to.
I dropped to my knees, pressed both hands against the gunshot wound, and applied as much pressure as I could.
“Stay with me,” I said firmly. “Look at me. Do you hear me?” His breathing came in short, uneven gasps as his eyes fought to stay open. “Stay with me… please.”
He tried to speak, but nothing came out except blood.
"Hey." I pressed harder. Warm blood soaked through my hands and onto my scrubs, but I didn’t care.
Footsteps rushed across the garage.
"Trauma team!" someone shouted. "Move! Move!"
Within seconds, doctors, nurses, and paramedics came rushing through the employee entrance with a stretcher.
One of them slid beside me.
"Milan?"
I looked up.
"Nia…"
Her eyes dropped to my blood-covered hands before meeting mine again.
“What the hell happened?”
“I… I don’t know. They shot him.”
Nia didn’t ask another question.
“On my count,” she called out. “One… two… three.”
Together, we lifted him onto the stretcher before the team took off toward the emergency department. I didn’t stop to think about whether I should follow them or not… I just ran.
The automatic doors flew open before we reached them.
"GSW to the abdomen!" one of the paramedics shouted as we pushed through the emergency entrance. "Male, approximately mid-thirties. Pulse is weak. Pressure's dropping."
The controlled chaos I'd expected to walk into my first night hit me all at once.
Doctors called out orders before the stretcher even reached the trauma bay. Monitors beeped from every direction, stretchers rolled past carrying other patients while a nurse hurried to clear Trauma One.
I stayed beside the stretcher, keeping both hands pressed against the wound as we rushed toward the trauma room. Blood continued slipping through my fingers no matter how much pressure I applied.
“Keep that pressure on,” Nia called over the commotion.
“I’m trying.”
“No, you’re doing fine. Just don’t let up.”
I nodded and pressed harder as we pushed through the trauma room doors.
Within seconds, doctors and nurses surrounded him, calling out instructions while somebody cut away what was left of his shirt and another nurse hooked him up to the monitors.
The room moved fast, but everybody seemed to know exactly where they needed to be and what they needed to do.
I pulled on a pair of gloves and stepped closer. “What do you need me to do?”
Before anyone answered, a hand landed on my shoulder. I turned to find the charge nurse looking me up and down, her eyes stopping on the blood covering my scrubs.
“Who are you?”
“Milan Rivers.”
“The new nurse?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her expression tightened. “How’d you end up in here looking like that?”
“I was outside when it happened.”
Another nurse looked up from the other side of the bed. “She’s the one who was holding pressure on his wound before we got outside.”
Nia nodded without taking her attention off the patient. “She stayed with him the whole time.”
The charge nurse looked back at me, and I could tell she’d already put two and two together. Then she asked, “You witnessed the shooting?”
“I…”
Before I could answer, two Atlanta police officers walked into the trauma room with hospital security right behind them. One of the officers looked around until his eyes landed on me.
“Is she the witness?” he asked.
The charge nurse nodded. “Yeah.”
The officer walked over. “I’m gonna need you to step outside with us.”
I looked back at the man lying on the bed. “I can still help.”
“You already did,” the charge nurse said. “We’ll take it from here.”
Everything inside me wanted to argue. Walking away from him felt wrong, especially after fighting so hard to keep him alive, but I knew I didn’t have a choice.
I slowly pulled off my gloves, my hands trembling more than I wanted to admit, and started toward the door. I’d only taken a few steps when I heard somebody call out behind me in a fragile voice.
“H-Hey…”
I turned around and found the man staring straight at me. Blood stained his lips as he struggled to lift his hand, his fingers barely moving while he fought for another breath. Something told me he wasn’t just reaching… he was trying to tell me something.
I took a step closer.
“Nia,” I said, keeping my eyes on him. “I think he’s trying to say something.”
Nobody looked up. The room was too busy, and every doctor and nurse were focused on saving his life. His eyes never left mine as his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to tell me something, but no words came out.
Then, without warning, the steady beeping of the monitor changed into one long, piercing tone.
“He’s coding!” Somone shouted right before the room went into full chaos.