14 | True Or False

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"I thought this was a joke, but we're really doing this, aren't we?" Isaac blew out a puff of warm air from amid naturally carmine-coloured lips.

"Yup," Caliana answered, eyes glistening with mirth. "But isn't it exciting? What a way to end my first set of nights. I'll bet you've never done this before, right, Dr Rhys?"

Dawn crossed her right arm over her chest, cradling herself from the nippy breeze, before uttering. "I'm telling you; Callie gets to have all the fun." The faint freckles that streaked her cheeks had been obscured by a claret flush; a direct consequence of the wind whipping and waning against her pale skin. Her body trembled against the turbulence of the wind, and her knees buckled slightly as though it took a wealth of effort to hold her own body weight.

"Well, it is only fair since she's the one who organised it all." Preeti defended, hands splayed out in front of her in a futile fight against the wind, the air tousling through her hair, resulting in several buoyant curls. "I'm honestly more surprised that neither I nor Isaac thought of it. It seems like such an obvious solution now."

"It was nothing, really," Caliana replied, sheepishly. "When the representative mentioned human patients, at first I thought she was bonkers. But then, it clicked – of course, humans aren't the only types of patients! So, then I called the nearest Zoo, and asked if we could use their scanner, and they were only too happy to accommodate us."

Isaac gaped down at her again, an assortment of puzzlement and something else paddling within the pool of his irises. Caliana couldn't quite put a finger on it; was it admiration, awe, or something else completely? His gaze ricocheted away once Caliana met his look, eyes returning to the open patient compartment at the back of the ambulance. The vociferation of the diesel engine came alive and alerted them to the presence of their patient – Mr Campbell situated at the back. "It was a good call; I'll give you that much." He said honestly. "But I'm not quite understanding why I'm the one having to play chaperone on this trip."

Preeti shrugged her shoulders, her hands now firmly set by her side in evidence that she had long since given up her battle against the assault of the cataclysmic wind that had rendered her hair an unruly mess. "There has to be a senior there in case of an emergency. And since you are Callie's supervisor, it just makes sense that it'd be you."

Caliana sported a coy smirk. "I think Doctor Rhys is worried that he'll fit in a little too well with the animals at the zoo and run the risk of getting left behind." She secured her palm over the left side of her chest and continued, "But hand on my heart, I promise I won't let that happen to you."

Preeti snorted a laugh, but before Isaac had any opportunity to utter a snarky retort, Dawn spoke up. "Isn't it time for you to go now? I'm rather fond of my hair, and at this rate, if I'm stood out here in this wind for a minute longer, I won't have any left!" She positioned her hands on Caliana's back, shoving her into the back of the ambulance before she could object. "Have a safe journey, buh-bye."

Isaac leapt in after Caliana, waving a curt hand at Preeti as he did so. Luckily for him, Mr Campbell's body lay on a flat gurney between the two of them, creating the perfect barrier. He was heavily sedated, evidenced by the endotracheal tube ensconced within his airway, his chest rising and falling with each passing second. He watched as Caliana placed a cordial hand over Mr Campbell's. "When I first met you, I told you I would make you feel better. And I'm going to keep my promise to you. We're going to find out exactly what's going on, and then we'll be one step closer to giving you the treatment you need." She whispered despite there being no way in hell that Mr Campbell had reserved any consciousness to be able to appreciate her words.

Caliana peeked up at Isaac from beneath mascara-laden eyelashes, witnessing that he'd now grabbed a book out of the cardiac arrest makeshift duffel bag. She squinted and noticed that it read 'ABCs of Anaesthesia'. She noted how his raven-coloured tousled hair neatly sat in waves on his scalp, stopping short at the nape of his scrub top. His left hand was hooked firmly within his scrub trousers, his palm thumping a rapid staccato beat upon his outer thigh, a disjointed sound that beheld little rhyme or rhythm and foretold of the whirlwind of thoughts sprinting through his brain.

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