My story is a fairly non-traditional doctor story, a paranormal called "You Don't Need a Doctor"
When a gunshot victim comes into Alan's ER, he jokes that this guy doesn't need a doctor, he needs a veterinarian. As he keeps working, though, the patient seems to be getting less hairy and less hurt. All except for the bullet wound that's now festering badly. Alan is shocked when his patient seems to miraculously heal as soon as he removes the bullet. He's even more shocked when the guy turns up at his house later to offer a very personal thank you.
Can he figure out Shiloh's secret before it's too late?
***
Here's an excerpt!
"Shit, Tony, this guy doesn't need a doctor, he needs a veterinarian." I pried open the mouth of the guy who'd just come into emergency, staring at the amazing set of canines he had. He'd been shot, and the wound was a mess, seemingly already festering.
Christ, the guy was fuzzy, too.
"Looks like one of those dog-faced boys from the circus." Tony was a great RN, but he'd been working in trauma a long time and had developed a little of the gallows humor you saw when the patient came in unresponsive. It was a defense mechanism, though, and I understood.
"He's not that bad, but yeah, he's on the hairy side. Do we know what happened?"
Tony was doing his job, trying to find a vein to get that IV in, get the fluids going. Janey, the ER tech, was hooking up monitors, waiting to see if I wanted oxygen.
"The intake says he was found at the site of a drive-by. He was unconscious and only partially responsive. EMTs feared some sort of paralysis."
"Drive-by?" There was one bullet, and it had gone in at the lower ribcage. Usually drive-by shooting victims ended up peppered with bullets, or had completely random placement. This looked like it had been aimed for the heart.
"We need to determine how soon he can take surgery, then. That bullet is going to have to come out."
"His vitals are holding steady." Janey started reading off numbers, and I stared a little. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig. There was no way his pressure and heart rate were that good. No way.
"Tony, can you take the monitor for a moment?" Janey waved her pager, and we both nodded. We were shorthanded as hell tonight, and everyone had eight places to be, at least.
Tony nodded, and I started cataloging the issues. The contusions seemed more in line with a beating than a drive-by, but you never knew what was going to happen when someone hit asphalt.
"Does that bullet wound seem… I dunno. Shallower?"
***
Find it here!
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