Driven by Instinct

Instead of counting pulse beats, she silently mumbled ten Hail Mary’s. A bolt of lightning zigzagged across the dark sky, illuminating the confines of the helicopter with alarming clarity. The loud clap of thunder that followed sounded like a ton of TNT exploding in the night. The sharp sound, distinctly audible through the powerful engine’s roar, caused the startled medical student to suddenly break from her task of taking the critically ill passenger’s blood pressure. Nervously, her fingers caressed the crucifix around her neck, a gift from her mother on her confirmation day.

"Dear Mary, Mother of God," she whispered, her dark eyes wide with fright.

Hearing the whispered plea, Dixie Amato reached across the stretcher to lay a comforting hand on Beckett’s shoulder. "It will be all right, Beck. You’re getting a rather rocky initiation on your first flight, but there will be plenty more for you, and I promise they’ll be much smoother. However, I daresay that Marty may never fly again."

Dixie turned toward the paramedic seated directly behind the pilot. Ordinarily, he was calm, but his usual demeanor was not evident on this turbulent night. His eyes were glued to the small window of the medical helicopter, watching the steel-white glint of the silver blades whirling steadily above them. Breathing rapidly, he grasped the armrests of his seat with a tenacious grip.

Dixie leaned in toward Beckett and tried to refocus her attention. "Russ Harper is damn lucky to have you on board, Beck." She couldn’t help but notice the white knuckles on Beckett’s hands as they held on to the edge of the gurney. The aircraft made a sharp movement, causing Beckett to sprawl against Dixie. The flight nurse reached out to steady the IV bag.

"Hang in there, Beck. We’re only about fifteen minutes away from Chicago and the weather should let up soon," said Dixie.

Beckett sucked in her breath sharply, then shook herself slightly to regain her composure. She looked out the window into the black ominous sky. Her deep thoughts were interrupted by a sudden loud clap of thunder, followed by a jagged streak of lightning, barely missing the aircraft. The strap anchoring the gurney came loose, causing the foot of the stretcher to slide back and forth.

Dixie quickly rose, then bent down to reposition the makeshift bed. "Give me a hand with this, Beckett."

"It’ll be okay, Mister Harper," said Beckett, helping to steady the semi-comatose patient. She was unusually dedicated to her patients, not only by her personal care for them, but also by spending any precious free time that she had researching the diagnosis and treatment of their illnesses. It certainly seemed to Dixie that the phrase, ‘beyond the call of duty’, had been coined to describe Beckett’s dedication to her profession. An additional interest for Beckett in this patient was the fact she had grown up in Sterling, Iowa, the same town as Russ Harper.

In the flash of light from the storm, Beckett looked towards the heavens at the unseen angry Gods who were reeking havoc on the small helicopter. The aircraft bounced around aimlessly at the mercy of the unrelenting wind.