Killer Summer

5

Before disturbing it, Walt photographed the scene-including the wrecker and the Taurus. He then lowered the Taurus, hoping Fiona would arrive before the paramedics left. He wanted as much of a record of this as possible, and she was five times the photographer he was.

Malone was coughing while being attended to.

“Respiratory occlusion,” the male paramedic said. “We can’t seem to stabilize him. We’re going to move him.”

Malone’s eyelids fluttered, revealing only the whites of his eyes. Even with his mouth covered by the oxygen mask, he was caught in a downward spiral of suffocation.

Kevin was now on his feet and next to Walt.

“Can’t they do something?” Kevin pleaded. Tears sprang from his frightened eyes. “Help him! Someone fucking help him!”

The paramedics moved the man to a gurney. Puffs of fine brown dirt swirled out from under him like smoke.

Ashes to ashes, Walt thought.

When the convulsions began, the two stopped the gurney and tended to him. But death was upon him, in its unforgiving way. A series of violent, guttural gasps were followed by an oppressive silence, and he had passed.

Kevin went quiet, looking on in horror, longing for a PAUSE button that didn’t exist.

The paramedics, not giving up, finally got the gurney into the back of the ambulance.

Kevin sank wordlessly by his uncle’s side.

“God…” Kevin finally choked out.

“Let’s hope so,” Walt said.