His eyes widened. "Poppy? Damnit damnit damnit." His voice was low as he mentally cursed himself for not being able to do anything but wait.
The medics arrived about 10 minutes later. One of them, a dark skinned girl with bright blue eyes pulled her bag off her back and began checking Poppy's vitals. "What happened here?" she asked, checking her pulse.
She looked around and noticed the other bodies of the men and Tom. "Oh," she said. "I see." She returned to working on Poppy, slipping an oxygen mask over her unconscious face. She bandaged her head quickly, and checked her pulse again. She frowned but kept calm, cursing slightly under her breath. Working quickly, she pulled out a pair of gloves, and slipped them onto her hands. "Charge to 200," she said quickly. The gloves emitted a faint whine, and she placed them on Poppy's chest, right over her heart. "Clear." Poppy's body bucked as the electrical charge shot through her, and the medic took off one glove to check her pulse before frowning again. "Charge to 400."
Francis sat back and watched helplessly. He ran a shaky hands through his hair nervously, but kept silent.
The second charge caused Poppy to gasp and her eyes opened for a brief moment as her heart started beating again. "We need to get her a blood transfusion now," the medic said to her partner. "Let's get her to the ambulance." "Tom.." Poppy murmured, reaching out. "Please... My dog..." "Come on, honey," the medic said, pulling out a large tube. She placed it on the ground and unrolled it like a scroll, where it solidified into a stretcher. On the count of three, the medics picked her up off the ground and placed her on the stretcher. Poppy gasped with pain, and her eyes found Francis', and she reached out to him. "Got the dog," the other medic said quietly. Tom, still unconscious, was in his arms. "Let's go.
She pursed her lips. "Fine." Poppy took his hand and squeezed it weakly. Her eyes were fearful, and she looked up at him as if wanting some sort of explanation of what was happening.
His hand, which was still trembling, held hers tightly, and his thumb ran gently along the top. He didn't say anything, but watched her carefully.
The medics took off with the stretcher, and they quickly approached an ambulance. They slid them in and closed the door behind them, and the car drove off. "Keep talking to me, sweetie, okay? What's your name, favorite color, things like that." "Uhm.. My name is Poppy Abernathy. My favorite color is green. My middle name is Lark. My birthday is December 12th. I have four siblings, two brothers and two sisters. I'm the middle child."
"That's good. Keep going." "Uh.. I'm engaged to Francis Craw. That guy." She pointed at him. "He doesn't have a middle name. He has one brother, named Miles. He used to explore caves as a child, and he liked the salamanders."
She grinned at him for a moment as the medic inserted a needle into her arm. "He's pretty handsome, isn't he?" she asked the medic idly. The medic didn't even glance up from her work. "He's fine." "Fine? He's wonderful."
She grinned at him before frownin at the needle in her arm. "That itches," she said quietly, reaching to pluck it from her arm.
He took the had that was trying to pull it, and shook his head. "Poppy, you can't do that. It's helping you right now."
