"Oh, Quinn. There you are," Owen said. He pulled back his hand. "The panel discussion has been pushed back an hour. I can't do lunch, but you can have this buffet voucher they gave me. Maybe we can meet up afterwards."
His eyes skimmed past me and found someone else he wanted to talk to more than me. I could not find a single word to say, so I turned around and left. I fought my way out of the crowded ballroom and through the Luxor's towering lobby. It felt like I could not breathe until I pushed through the front doors and walked out onto The Strip.
The day was heating up, and most visitors jumped directly in cabs. I took off down the sidewalk, glad for the space and the movement. I needed to walk off the acidic feelings Anya's nasty comments and Owen's cold responses had stirred up inside me.
I told myself I was glad to be all on my own. I needed time to think. Though when my phone rang, I picked up immediately.
"Quinn? How are you, honey? Your lab partner just stopped by and told me you quit the nursing program. Where are you?" Darla asked.
"I'm in Vegas," I said. "I just ranked third in another Dark Flag tournament."
"That's awesome, but are you okay? You sound funny."
"I don't know. I just feel lost. I'm supposed to know exactly what I want to do with my life, but I can't even figure out what to do with the rest of this afternoon," I said.
Darla laughed. "You overthink everything. Don't worry, something will come up."
I did not have time to respond. There was a horrible screech and the smell of burnt rubber. Directly in front of me a car with Iowa license plates, full of tourists, slammed on its brakes before missing a right-hand turn off The Strip. It barely missed hitting two people in the crosswalk. The car behind them swerved to avoid a collision and bumped up onto the sidewalk. The few pedestrians scattered, and more than one person screamed as the car slammed into a light post.
"Oh my God. What was that?" Darla screamed into the phone.
"I'm fine, but there was an accident right in front of me. I have to go help." I hung up the phone and ran up the sidewalk.
I scanned the people on the sidewalk. Most had leapt out of the way. A few had fallen but had only bumps and bruises. One woman was crying and holding her ankle.
"I know first aid," I said, "Don't move. I'll be right back to help."
Steam pumped up from the black sedan's hood where it wrapped around the lamp post. Inside, the air bags were just deflating. I could see there was only one person in the car. The young man driving was thrown back in his seat, his eyes closed. I yanked on the driver's side door and pounded on the glass when I saw it was locked.
"Sir? Sir? Can you unlock your door? You need help and I know first aid," I called through the glass.
His eyes fluttered and finally opened. With a bleary look, he fumbled for the lock switch and then closed his eyes again. As I pulled open the door, I heard his groan of pain.
"Don't move. It looks like you may have broken your right arm, but I'm going to take care of that cut on your forehead first, if that’s okay with you." I pulled a pack of tissues from my purse and blotted the blood from his face.
He waved my hands away. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I didn't hit anyone, did I?" He struggled to get out of the car.
"You are not fine and if you feel fine, then it’s only the shock talking. I hear sirens, help is on the way. Until they get here, you are going to stay still and let me help you," I said.
He refused and got out of the car. I spied a long scarf on the passenger seat and grabbed it before I caught him and forced him to stop wandering down the hot sidewalk.
"If you insist on moving around, I'm going to have to put your arm in a sling," I said.
"That's my mother's scarf," he said.
"Then she won't mind." I threw it over his shoulder and tucked his injured arm inside. Immobilizing his arm was the only way to keep the break from getting worse. Then, I pressed a wad of clean tissues against the cut on his forehead. I brought his uninjured hand up to hold it in place. "A woman over there hurt her ankle. Everyone else is fine. You're going to stay still while I go help her."
He winced but nodded. I ran over to a free newspaper machine and grabbed a few copies. Rolling them up created a splint that would keep her ankle stable until she could be transported to an emergency room. I used three hairbands the woman handed me to secure the splint in place.
"Nice work," a voice said behind me.
I looked up to see an EMT in a dark blue uniform. "Sorry. I know the traffic on The Strip can delay you guys, so I thought I would try to help."
"And you did. That splint will hold, so it’s better if we don't touch it. You'll be fine, ma'am, your hero did a great job. How's the driver?" the EMT asked.
"His arm is broken, so I secured it in a sling. He's in shock and keeps trying to walk away. There's also a cut on his forehead, but it seems superficial. The bleeding is already slowing," I said. "I am, I mean, I was, a nursing student."
"Doesn't matter about your training," the EMT said. "You've got good instincts and that's what matters out here. I've seen the best surgeons in the world choke when it comes to accidents. It takes a certain kind of person to be able to jump in, assess, and then help people."