Jeremy got himself up and stumbled toward the closest pay phone, which was nearly a block away, to call an ambulance. Since she had shot him through the right thigh he really couldn’t drive, and that fact pissed him off more than just getting shot had. A trail of blood marred the sidewalk behind him as he finally staggered through the phone booth doors and got a hand on the receiver.

He dialed 911 with shaky hands, getting blood all over the phones numbers. The bullet hadn’t gone all the way through and Jeremy felt close to passing out from the pain. Up in the sky the clouds opened up and rain started to fall on the phone booth.

“That fucking whore.â€? Jeremy said under his breath, and then the cool, calm, and commanding voice of a female switchboard operated cut through his muddied conscious.

“Hello, this is Jenny. You have dialed 911, what is the nature of your emergency?

“I don’t care if your fucking name is Jenny or John, and I know who the fuck I called, I need a God damn ambulance. STAT and shit!â€?