Dying Breaths {arrows}

[d9 kristof parks {ems}]

Ezekiel Alexander
Narration Thinking "Hearing" "Speech"

Beads of sweat rolled from his brow as Ezekiel worked relentlessly trying to save the lives of those injured in the tsunami. Each of the tents quickly filled to the brim leaving the workers extremely short staffed and overloaded. The doctors in charge carefully worked performing miracles on those brought in, and it amazed him how easily some of the people survived. Yet many were left the tents with broken bones, missing limbs, paralyzed, and some even had traumatic brain injuries, but more often than not, someone would die leaving a somber feeling in the air. It was a feeling Ezekiel would never get used to, however, he knew working in the medical field would bring a lot of pain and sorrow. He knew from his last experiences in district six that district four was in a nightmare, but nothing would mend a shattered heart hiding in stone so nobody could see his true emotions.

Not even a second passed until another person was brought in, and Ezekiel followed the rescuers inside with his eyes fixated on the male lying on the cot. Blood gushed from the wound caused by several bones of protruding from his left leg. Bright crimson spurted from a laceration on his arm, and he stood glued in place as he watched rescuers tie the tourniquet tighter to control the bleeding. Red liquid saturated the bandages wrapped around his head. Many bones were deformed, and he knew it would be a miracle if this man survived, but he has to try for his own sake. "There's an empty bed in the far corner. I'll be over in a moment to take report." He stated calmly while pointing to the corner, yet his eyes fixated on the puddle of blood saturating the ground beneath him, and knew time wasn't on his side. But what really caught him off guard was the two young children following behind. "Can you two wait outside?" He asked quietly still slightly confused.

"Stay with him. He save us."

Ezekiel sighed knowing it was too dangerous to keep them inside the tent because of the potential of seeing dead, maimed bodies. A lightbulb flashed in his head as he realized this man wasn't from four as he was saving them. His heart sank deep into the pits of his stomach as he ran forward following the trail of blood without looking back to see if the children were following. Time stood still, and his feet became heavy, but Zeke didn't want a rescuer to die. Heck, he didn't want anyone to die because their lives were important, however, his heart felt the sudden urge to save this man's life.

His eyes scanned the man realizing he had to control the bleeding before he bled out, and his hands were already unwrapping the gauze before placing more in his face pressing it firmly against the wound, but his attention quickly shifted towards the tourniquet on his arm, and he knew he needed to clamp the artery to stop the bleeding, but his wasn't sure how because his hands started shaking. Tiny droplets of sweat rolled down his face as he called for the doctor to come over because he needed all the help he could get. Zeke's eyes narrowed as he glared at the blood saturating the cot, and he did what he had to do. One hand felt for a pulse, and the other pressed gently against his chest feeling for rise and fall. It wasn't much but it was there. "I'm going to start an IV to get fluids to him. His pulse is very weak and thready."

The doctor nodded while working with the bleeding controlling as much as he could. Zeke's mind was elsewhere, and all he could think of was losing this man before he even realized what happened. He trotted towards the table and picked up a 14 gauge needle from the tray, and grabbed the IV start kit along with the extensions and a normal bag of saline. "What's his blood pressure?" He questioned while grabbing more gauze.

"Eighty over thirty-six!"

Zeke shook his head violently while images crashed through his mind of him failing his mother, and every other patient he was unable to save. His hands clenched tightly, and his eyes were wide with fear as he sprinted back towards the man. "We're losing him!"

His heart stopped, and the world stopped moving. Ezekiel had tunnel vision as he stepped closer to the man before feeling for a vein. Two would be needed, but one would do for now. "Someone grab another 14 gauge needle, a start kit, the extensions, and another bag of saline. Now." He raised his gaze for only a moment before focusing on the task at hand. A small smile spread across his face as he got the needle into the vein the first try. Quickly he hooked up the extension drip set, and placed the saline wide open on the line before attaching the bag to the IV pole. "Artery is clamped shut. I have the laceration on his face stitched. Going to have to get his femur bone inline, but that'll require surgery, so for now we just have to clean it up. We have to stabilize the bones. Keep IVs monitored. There's a chance he may lose his leg."

Fear crawled across his skin as started the other IV in his other arm allowing the saline to flow through him wide open as the doctor walked away to pay attention to another patient the rescuers brought in. "Building fell on him while saving us." Ezekiel heard the cry and soft voice of one of the children standing close to the man on the cot while searching through the database to find his name. That was when his entire mood shifted. Ezekiel remembered images of Kirito Mirisitoma in the seventieth hunger games, and a terrible feeling slammed down on top of him as he listened to the rescuers giving report. His mind was numb as invisible hands pressed firmly against his ears muffling out every sound possible. Rumor had it that Kirito had journeyed to district four to help with volunteering - I must find Kirito.

Ezekiel ran from the tent looking through the crowds of people only stopping at registration to ask if they knew were the victor was; all fingers pointed to a tent. With a nod of the head, Zeke sprinted as fast as he could fighting against the crowd praying he could reach Mr. Miristioma before anything happened. Yet when he reached the other tent, he was out of breath. His lungs begged him to stop, but his mind kept going pushing him forward until he reached a closed door. After inquiring if Kirito was inside, Ezekiel knocked on the door three times before speaking between gasps for air.

"Kirito...your brother... was in accident.... may not.... make it."

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