Free Nothing to Report by Patrick Abbruzzi

RMP into the Gulf gas station so as to not block any emergency vehicles that were responding. I also didn’t want to get blocked in if I had to move out of there in a hurry.
     
    Before I got out of my car, I saw the blood and bodies strewn everywhere. It looked more like a train wreck than a vehicle accident. Blood was on the sidewalk, the street pavement and sprayed all over the storefront windows and facade. It looked as though the B.F. Goodrich tire store on the corner had gotten the brunt of the splattered blood and the scene reminded me of grotesque photos I had seen of the St. Valentine’s Day massacre. The EMS team from St. Vincent’s Hospital was there, too, doing their best to attend to the more serious victims. One of the EMT’s was on his radio calling for more buses to respond to the scene and I quickly called for the sergeant, asking him to have the Accident Investigation Unit also respond ASAP. It was pretty evident that this was a very serious accident and the possibility existed that someone was injured seriously and very likely might die. The next thing I requested was for additional sectors to respond to assist me with traffic and crowd control.
    I walked over to the EMS people for an update. They informed me that they were going to transport two victims immediately to the emergency room and two additional ambulances were en route to the scene. Then they asked me if I could transport another victim in my RMP. I explained to them that I was a solo operator but they said another technician would ride with me while I drove. I walked over to my car and moved it until it was adjacent to the ambulance, then I reached over and opened my right front passenger door.
     
    The technician got in while cradling a little girl who looked to be about seven years old. She was wearing what once was a beautiful white dress but was now splotched with large, crimson blossoms. On her hands she wore matching white gloves which were totally smeared in blood. Looking at her from head to toe, I noticed she had on a single, black satin shoe on one foot and her curly blond hair was caked in blood which was beginning to coagulate. She was barely alive.
     
    Lt. A. sighed. Charlie glanced to his right, not surprised to see that the lieutenant was visibly shaken. The boss’s eyes were beginning to well up but Charlie didn’t know what to say or do.
    “Lou, do you want coffee or anything,” he asked quietly.
    “No. I’m okay,” Lt. A. answered, his voice low and husky with sadness.
    After an endlessly long minute, he seemed to compose himself and lit another cigarette. After a few deep drags, he continued with his story.
     
    The injured girl had gotten to me, but I swallowed my emotions and floored the gas pedal to get her to the hospital. I must have been doing 100 miles an hour on the straight away. When we arrived at the loading dock of the emergency room, the technician next to me asked me to carry the little girl while he ran in to prepare the hospital staff for her.
     
    For a time Charlie didn’t think the lieutenant would finish his story, but after a while, he continued.
     
     
    I gently took her in my arms and carried her in. Before I got through the doors, her head shifted and I realized that the under part of her head was almost totally gone. As I made my way into the brightly lit building, that little angel opened her beautiful blue eyes for just a second. That’s when she found my eyes. I would swear she looked at me, right at me, but looking back now, especially after all these years, I don’t think she was actually looking at me; I believe it was some kind of reflex action. That night though, right then and there, just seconds after the gaze which filled my soul, I saw that little angel’s eyes roll back into her head just like I’ve seen so many times when someone is going out of the picture. I have no doubts that she died on the spot, right there in my arms.
     
    He took another drag of his nearly