The Spare They Came Begging For novel · Chapter 17 of 32

Chapter 17: Harbor ER

It was Moira.

"You saw?"

"I saw. Is she alive?"

"She's in our ER. Potassium's seven point one." I heard the ER behind her, the alarms, somebody shouting for a wheelchair. "They're drowning down here, Clare. Two traumas and a bus full of flu. The ER charge called up for help and I came down. I've got her, but I've got four other people too."

"Did she ask for me?"

"She hasn't asked for anybody. She's barely talking." Moira paused. "You don't have to come. I mean that. Nobody here will think less of you."

I looked at Conor.

He was already holding out my coat.

He drove the way he had the night of the driver's sepsis, and this time I didn't tease him about the lights.

I went in through the ambulance bay in jeans and Conor's flannel shirt.

The ER at Harbor on a Saturday looks like a train station during a fire.

Every bed was full. The hallway beds were full. The waiting room was standing room only, people in winter coats holding their kids and their paper numbers.

Moira met me at the station and tossed me a pair of gray scrubs.

"Bed 14. She's on the monitor. Calcium's in. I'm hanging the insulin now."

"I've got her."

"I know you've got her." She gripped my arm once, hard. "That's what I'm worried about."

I changed quickly in the supply closet.

When I pushed back the curtain on Bed 14, my sister was lying flat with an oxygen mask on her face.

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