Excerpt
From Chapter 1 -
At first I was taken aback by the man's actions. The shock gave way to a burning curiosity. What could possibly be his problem? I darted up the steps, caught the still-closing door, and stepped inside.
The scene before me immediately confirmed my fear that this trailer had nothing to do with the Red Cross, or any real medical practice.
Right past the door on one end there was a table, two folding chairs, and a wastebasket. On the other end was a desk and a kitchenette. It smelled as new inside as the outside looked. On the end of the table lay a line of uncapped syringes filled with a brownish substance. The garbage was uncovered and contained a pile of used needles. Two olive-skinned men were scrambling to unload something from the refrigerator into a large cooler. They were so engrossed in their project that they didn't even notice me slip in.
A scream from the parking lot broke their work-induced trance.
Their heads snapped up. The closest man snatched up the cooler. He sprinted straight at me. The other man yelled something in a language I didn't understand.
Before the adrenaline could even hit my veins, I felt myself lurch toward the man.
He had at least fifty pounds on me and a good deal of momentum built up as we collided.
The cooler crunched into my chest.
I groped in the air, but couldn't catch hold of my assailant.
I flew back against the table and landed on the floor. The man kicked open the door and ran through.
The second guy had been right behind him, but stopped as he reached the door. He turned and glared at me lying on the floor. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. He marched straight for me.
The instinct for survival had taken over now. Out of the corner of my eye I spied one of the full syringes, fallen to the floor with the crash. I reached for the needle and sat up.
The second man was now upon me. Time almost stopped for a moment and I saw him draw his right leg back in slow motion. As his kick collided with my stomach, I saw my hand plunge the syringe into his left thigh.
His eyes opened wide. He gasped. The man's fury was replaced with fear.
He staggered back and pulled the syringe out of his leg, then stared at it for a moment and let it fall to the ground. A mumbled prayer or perhaps a curse crossed his lips and he turned to leave. Without a backwards glance he went out into the night.