Read Online Do Opposites Attract? by Kathryn Freeman - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathryn Freeman
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He’d seen it many times before, both with Medic SOS and on the battlefield. She hadn’t. He didn’t have the time or energy for more than one patient.
‘What’s she doing in the truck?’ Tessa looked pointedly at Brianna, who was staring defiantly out of the window.
‘Apparently she’s coming with us,’ Mitch replied absently, his mind already thinking ahead to what he might find, what he would need.
‘You’ve got to be kidding. She’ll just get in the way.’
Clearly incensed at being discussed as if she wasn’t there, Brianna yanked open the door. ‘I can hear, you know,’ she told them. ‘And I won’t get in your precious way. I’m just here to observe.’ With that she slammed the door shut again.
Tessa raised her eyebrows at him, but Mitch merely shrugged. He wasn’t going to get embroiled in a female spat. Taking the coward’s way out, he helped Dan load up the rest of the equipment.
The atmosphere in the truck was tense as he drove to where the boy had been found. Next to him Brianna folded and unfolded her arms, wrapped her hair into a ponytail, and finally stared out of the window. Behind him, on the back seat of the truck, Dan closed his eyes and a stony-faced Tessa glared at the back of Brianna’s head.
Once again, Brianna shifted in her seat. ‘Having second thoughts about tagging along now?’ he asked.
‘No.’
He almost smiled. As if she’d admit to being wrong. ‘Ever seen a bad injury?’
‘My mother once cut her hand on a kitchen knife.’
He couldn’t help himself. He snorted. ‘Don’t tell me. She needed one, no maybe two plasters?’
‘She needed stitches,’ Brianna muttered, refusing to look at him.
Casting his eyes down to her hands, he saw how tightly she clutched them together and felt a twinge of sympathy. ‘You want my advice? When we get there, don’t look.’
He brought the truck to a halt outside the ruined remains of a small house and flung open his door. Leaving it up to the rest to bring the equipment, he headed straight towards the cluster of people. A woman, presumably the mother, lay on the ground, weeping loudly and cradling the boy’s head in her arms. They all looked up as he approached.
‘Doctor, doctor,’ the mother cried in Spanish, tears streaming down her face.
Mitch nodded at her and hunkered down next to the boy. He might have seen several such injuries, but it didn’t take away the immediate feeling of repulsion. Poor little mite. Gently he began to examine him, trying to find out if the pole had skewered any vital organs. Thankfully the boy was unconscious, though the family confirmed he’d been awake when they’d got there.
‘It looks like it’s just missed his heart,’ he reassured the mother in his serviceable Spanish.
While Mitch and the others raced to the child, Brianna hung back. From what she judged to be a safe distance, she allowed her eyes fleeting glances of the scene, keeping them at head height so she wouldn’t accidentally glimpse the poor boy on the ground. She felt really, really shaky. Mitch and Tessa had been right. She had no place here.
Suddenly the crowd around the boy moved away, and Brianna’s eyes unthinkingly shifted downwards, towards the child. Instantly she knew she had to look away, but found she couldn’t. It was as if someone had hit the pause button and she was left staring at the grotesque sight of a long rusty pole sticking out from the top half of a child’s body.
Oh my God.
A tidal wave of nausea hit her, clawing at her stomach, and the air she sucked in came out in short, rasping breaths. She felt cold and clammy and rubbed absently at her arms, trying to warm herself, all the while her eyes fixed on the distressing sight in front of her.
‘Brianna!’
Through a fog of horror, Brianna heard Mitch’s harsh voice yelling at her. She blinked and slowly moved her head, as if coming out of trance. Dimly aware of him motioning for her to move away, she turned and took a few
‘What’s she doing in the truck?’ Tessa looked pointedly at Brianna, who was staring defiantly out of the window.
‘Apparently she’s coming with us,’ Mitch replied absently, his mind already thinking ahead to what he might find, what he would need.
‘You’ve got to be kidding. She’ll just get in the way.’
Clearly incensed at being discussed as if she wasn’t there, Brianna yanked open the door. ‘I can hear, you know,’ she told them. ‘And I won’t get in your precious way. I’m just here to observe.’ With that she slammed the door shut again.
Tessa raised her eyebrows at him, but Mitch merely shrugged. He wasn’t going to get embroiled in a female spat. Taking the coward’s way out, he helped Dan load up the rest of the equipment.
The atmosphere in the truck was tense as he drove to where the boy had been found. Next to him Brianna folded and unfolded her arms, wrapped her hair into a ponytail, and finally stared out of the window. Behind him, on the back seat of the truck, Dan closed his eyes and a stony-faced Tessa glared at the back of Brianna’s head.
Once again, Brianna shifted in her seat. ‘Having second thoughts about tagging along now?’ he asked.
‘No.’
He almost smiled. As if she’d admit to being wrong. ‘Ever seen a bad injury?’
‘My mother once cut her hand on a kitchen knife.’
He couldn’t help himself. He snorted. ‘Don’t tell me. She needed one, no maybe two plasters?’
‘She needed stitches,’ Brianna muttered, refusing to look at him.
Casting his eyes down to her hands, he saw how tightly she clutched them together and felt a twinge of sympathy. ‘You want my advice? When we get there, don’t look.’
He brought the truck to a halt outside the ruined remains of a small house and flung open his door. Leaving it up to the rest to bring the equipment, he headed straight towards the cluster of people. A woman, presumably the mother, lay on the ground, weeping loudly and cradling the boy’s head in her arms. They all looked up as he approached.
‘Doctor, doctor,’ the mother cried in Spanish, tears streaming down her face.
Mitch nodded at her and hunkered down next to the boy. He might have seen several such injuries, but it didn’t take away the immediate feeling of repulsion. Poor little mite. Gently he began to examine him, trying to find out if the pole had skewered any vital organs. Thankfully the boy was unconscious, though the family confirmed he’d been awake when they’d got there.
‘It looks like it’s just missed his heart,’ he reassured the mother in his serviceable Spanish.
While Mitch and the others raced to the child, Brianna hung back. From what she judged to be a safe distance, she allowed her eyes fleeting glances of the scene, keeping them at head height so she wouldn’t accidentally glimpse the poor boy on the ground. She felt really, really shaky. Mitch and Tessa had been right. She had no place here.
Suddenly the crowd around the boy moved away, and Brianna’s eyes unthinkingly shifted downwards, towards the child. Instantly she knew she had to look away, but found she couldn’t. It was as if someone had hit the pause button and she was left staring at the grotesque sight of a long rusty pole sticking out from the top half of a child’s body.
Oh my God.
A tidal wave of nausea hit her, clawing at her stomach, and the air she sucked in came out in short, rasping breaths. She felt cold and clammy and rubbed absently at her arms, trying to warm herself, all the while her eyes fixed on the distressing sight in front of her.
‘Brianna!’
Through a fog of horror, Brianna heard Mitch’s harsh voice yelling at her. She blinked and slowly moved her head, as if coming out of trance. Dimly aware of him motioning for her to move away, she turned and took a few
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