The Vulture's Vow

Summary

The world was a smear of sound and pain. The screech of tires on asphalt, the sickening grind of metal against bone, and then a darkness that smelled of gasoline and hot rubber.

I was being lifted, the world tilting crazily. A voice cut through the fog. "This one's critical. Prep him for surgery now. Get ahold of his family to sign consent."

A wave of something—adrenaline, maybe just pure terror—cleared my head for a second. I tried to lift a hand that felt like it belonged to someone else. "My wife… Claire… she's busy. I can sign."