Fictitious.

You've waited patiently, so here is the next part to my short story!

Isaac ran over to the ambulance. Jordan looked at him, unable to say anything all she could do was reach for him. Her hand, still warm, grazed Isaac’s cheek. A tear rolled down his face.

“Sir, you’re going to have to move,” said one of the paramedics. He was tall with dark hair and blue eyes. The sleeves on his shirt were tight around his biceps.

“You don’t understand!” Isaac yelled. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to be with her.”

“Sir, if you aren’t family you can’t ride with,” said the paramedic.

The door closed and the ambulance drove away. The police cleaned up the scene and tore down the tape. Isaac sat in the bus shelter for a moment, got up and looked at the bus schedule and walked back to the jeep.

He propped himself against the car. He breathed in and then out. He dug in his left pocked for the key. That’s where he always put his keys but they weren’t there this time. He ran up the block scanning the ground for them. No luck. He walked back to the jeep and looked through the windows to see if he left them in the ignition. They were there.

He got in, turned the key and drove off.

“Where are they going to take her,” he thought to himself.

There were four hospitals in a three mile radius. Each of them was about the same distance from the bus shelter. Isaac drove to St. Peter Hospital first. They had a highly rated trauma unit.

Red light. Isaac rapped his fingers on the steering wheel in a frantically rhythmic beat. He checked the traffic from the left and then from the right, nothing. He stepped on the gas pedal and looked in his rearview mirror to make sure no police had seen him.

He turned into the parking lot and took the first spot he saw. He went to unbuckle and realized that he had not buckled up in the first place. He made sure to grab the keys out of the ignition, locked the doors and ran to the entrance.

The lady at the front desk had daisies on her scrubs. Her hair was neatly tied back and her eyes were steady and calm.

“My girlfriend just got shot! Help,” he said.

“First name,” she asked.

“Isaac,” he answered.

“I mean your girlfriend’s name,” she said.

“Jordan. Jordan Lawrence,” he said, “she’s 5’6”, 145 pounds and has freckles and..”

“I just need the name,” she interrupted.