The smell of ozone and burnt skin filled the cramped ambulance.
"Clear!"
The paramedic slammed the paddles onto Cyprian’s chest again. His body arched off the stretcher, a violent, unnatural spasm that made my own heart stutter.
I watched the monitor. The green line stayed flat. A single, high-pitched tone screamed that I was a widow.
"No," I whispered, gripping his cold hand so hard my nails dug into his skin. "You don't get to quit. You are the Savage. You survive. That’s your job."
"Charging to 300!" the medic shouted, sweat dripping down his nose. "Clear!"
Thump.
The body jerked.
I held my breath. The world narrowed down to the black screen of the monitor.
Beep.
A pause that lasted a lifetime.
Beep... beep... beep.
A ragged rhythm. Weak, chaotic, but there.
"We have a sinu
