Pandora's Curse - v4 Read Online Free PDF Page A

blankets, she noted his skin across his torso was deeply bruised, his ribs probably broken. She began CPR anyway, compressing his chest to keep his heart forcing blood through his body. Only when she had her rhythm did she once again pay attention to the paramedic.
    “He was unconscious even while they pulled him from the car. Blood pressure’s too low to measure. His pulse has been thready since we took off.”
    “What about his injuries?” she asked as the stretcher was maneuvered out of the chopper’s cargo area and onto the gurney.
    “Both feet crushed, multiple tib-fib fractures in both legs. Right arm nearly severed, right clavicle fractures, lacerations to face, legs, and back. Pupils are nonreactive. Likely closed head injury.”
    “Was he wearing a seat belt?”
    “No.”
    Anika finally looked at the face of her patient. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. “Asshole.”
    She knew the driver would be coming to the hospital too. He’d be wheeled straight to the morgue, where his parents could claim him. He had been the same age as the man whose life Anika now held in her hands. An hour ago, they’d been playing Formula One driver on the Autobahn in a stolen Porsche. Now both were dead, though one had a slim chance of coming back.
    Astride her patient like a jockey, Anika rode the gurney toward the waiting elevator, her upper body sawing with the beat of the CPR. An orderly had a ventilation bag over the patient’s face and forced air into his lungs in time with her movements. Once the elevator doors closed, she felt a sudden calm overcome her. It was always like this. For the first frantic moments she worked without thought, her training guiding her hands and her body. And now came the descent to the emergency room. She had forty seconds before the door opened again and until that time there was nothing she could do except maintain the CPR’s steady cadence. Her mind was freed.
    It was the gift that kept her sane amid the carnage of negligence, stupidity, and increasingly, violence. Her eyes were on her hands, but her consciousness was focused on nothing at all. She was completely detached now, actually as calm as though she were in a trance. It was the same when she ran marathons. The last quarter of the distance was not run with the body but with the mind.
    She became aware that her heartbeat was synchronized with her CPR.
    The doors opened, and just as quickly the chaos returned. The orderlies wheeled the gurney down a bright hallway toward an open trauma bay. The life-flight helicopter had radioed information about the car crash victim during their inbound journey so nurses and another doctor were waiting. A portable defibrillator was standing by, and a nurse was poised with jelly and the electrodes for the heart monitor. Voices crashed above the sounds of electronics. Amid the pandemonium, Anika continued massaging the patient’s chest until everyone was ready to take over.
    She shifted her weight so the heart monitor could be attached to his bare torso, its green line showing activity only when she compressed his body. When she stopped, he’d flatline once again. The gurney wheels were locked down, and an orderly stood to help Anika from the table, but she vaulted off like a longtime horsewoman, landing lightly on her rubber-soled shoes.
    A nurse intubated him, running a direct oxygen hose into his mouth to keep his lungs working. The second doctor, Petr Heimann, had the defib’s paddles positioned in an instant. “Clear!”
    The young man convulsed as electricity jolted his body. The heart monitor gave a matched spike but returned to a steady whine.
    “Again,” Anika called.
    The defibrillator charged and Heimann sent another blast through the dead man. This time a slow beat followed the spike.
    Come on, come on,
Anika silently prayed as she looked at his ruined legs, already thinking what would need to be done if they could get his heart beating normally. His pants had been cut