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“And I though the view of the beach was nice.”“Yeah, there’s the mountain, the river and the city,” Roman remarks offhandedly. “But the beach is different. The sound of the crashing waves and the sun setting over the horizon is so much different.” He unlocks the door and steps back, allowing her to enter.Lucy stops just inside the door to look around. The room is bright. The white paint lets the evening sun shine of it, setting a glow about the place. The living room appears to be the center of the apartment with everything else less focused. It is much like her bungalow except the apartment has two closed off bedrooms upstairs, bathrooms, both upstairs and down and a much larger kitchen.“Roman, this place is grand, but it’s only you” she says, looking around with wonder then her tone gets serious. “It is only you, right?”The man chuckles at her tone. “Yes, of course it is.”Lucy smiles at him, almost in a devious way. “You know, you wanted to take me on my floor not long ago.” She. Give me a call once you break out of the firehouse. I’ll have my porch light on for you.”I heard the tones for our truck go off, and turned to leave. “Gotta go! I’ll call you as I head out!”We pulled up on the scene of our shooting after the police. (which, by the way, is my very FAVORITE sequence of events. I get kinda nervous, when I have to let dispatch know that our “sick person”, is ill due to unbluprinted holes, leakage of Good Red Stuff, and unknown whereabouts of the shooter. Bad times.) One of the officers waved us over to the victim, and we set to work, searching for and stopping the bleeding, assessing his ability to breathe, and attempting to sort out his particular catalog of woe, with an eye to determining how much care we would render at the scene, and how much would wait for transport.We looked at each other, and nodded. Doug tossed me the handie talkie, and grabbed the medic bag. “Need a board? Or a collar?”“Nope. Just diesel.”He hot footed it over to the truck,.
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