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Ian and Marcus had their hands full, too. PVC's had started to show up on the monitor. And although Ian had a line, it wasn't going to run because he couldn't raise the bag. Red blood had already started to streak back up the tubing. "Jeremy," he called.
Jeremy stuck his pale head down between the cars like an inverted jack-in-the-box, took in the situation with a quick glance, nodded, and disappeared again.
"Can you reach the lido?" Ian asked. "I think it's time."
"One hundred of lidocaine," Marcus pushed the prefilled syringe.
Ian squeezed the bag to flush the line. He reached for a pulse and wondered what he would do if he couldn't find one. "One hundred," he announced. "PVCs perfusing." Things could be worse.
Ian looked up when he heard the music. He had heard the exchange between Andy and the cop, but had already forgotten it. Louis Armstrong was drifting heartily beneath the train. "Thank you!" Andy shouted up to the unseen police officer. "I don't see why we can't be civilized just because we're under a subway train."
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GLOSSARY
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