He staggered toward George’s car, coughing from the smoke. He needed to sleep somewhere. He limped a few paces when two paramedics swiftly approached him. They walked him to the ambulance and told him to lie on the bed while they cleaned the blood from his hands and face. His nose had finally stopped bleeding. The loss of blood and earlier exertion had drained Jason’s young body of all his energy. “You’ll be all right now, son. I’ll take you to St. Mary’s Hospital and they will check you over,” the paramedic said. “No, I want to go home now,” Jason coughed. Jason climbed off the bed and tried to stand. The paramedic pushed against Jason’s shoulder. “No, son, stay on the bed. You need to go to the hospital. You are injured and have breathed in a lot of smoke.” Jason swiftly knocked his hand away. “I’m not in the mood to argue, sir. I want to go home. I need to see George Young.”
