The air hung heavy with the antiseptic scent of disinfectant, a stark contrast to the earthy fragrance of pine needles and damp soil that clung stubbornly to Max's clothes.
"Hi," Emily's voice was hoarse as she spoke to the nurse, Sarah, who stood before her with a polite, yet professional demeanor. "He needs some help" She added.
Sarah, the nurse, Had been a whirlwind of efficiency. Her smile which had been constrained all this time, faltered slightly as she took in Max's disheveled appearance. "Is he bleeding profusely or at all?" she asked, her voice polite but professional.
Emily's eyes darted to Max who stood beside her. A grimace creased his brow, his face pale and drawn.
His head tilted back slightly. A single, jagged cut marred the smooth skin above his left eye, already beginning to bruise a sickly purple. A thin sheen of sweat clung to his forehead, matting his usually unruly dark hair. She could tell that he was in a lot of pain.
She stammered a bit before finally responding to Sarah's question.
"No, but..." Emily started, unsure how to explain the situation.
"Is it an emergency?" the nurse interrupted, her gaze flicking between Emily and Max.
Before Emily could answer, Max, who had seemingly regained some energy, spoke up.
"No, it's not an emergency," When Max had spoken, his voice had been a mere croak, barely audible above the low murmur of the waiting room.
Emily felt a pang of fear twist in her gut. This wasn't the confident, quick-witted Max she vaguely remembered from their chance encounter. This was a stranger, weakened and vulnerable, relying entirely on her for help.
The nurse sighed. "Then, ma'am, can you please fill out this form and have a seat?" Sarah said, handing Emily a clipboard with a stack of papers attached. "The doctor will be with you in a moment."
Emily stared at the clipboard, a sense of helplessness washing over her. What exactly was she going to fill out in the form?
The clipboard felt more like a weight than a simple form. Each sheet of paper seemed to mock her with sterile questions: name, address, emergency contact – none of which she could confidently answer for Max.
The only thing she knew about Max was his first name. And even that was based on the assumption that Max wasn't the shortened version of his first name.
She supposed the best course of action would be to help him fill out the forms himself.
'She was going to help him fill the forms himself and then she was going to get out of here.' she mumbled to herself. With a sigh, she took the clipboard and found a seat next to Max in the waiting room.
"You need to fill these forms," she said, nudging him gently. There was no response.
His breathing remained steady, but his face was slack, devoid of any sign of consciousness.
A wave of panic surged through her. "Max?" she called out hesitantly. "Max, can you hear me?"
Desperation fueled her next action.
Reaching past his slumped form, she brushed her fingertips against his wrist, searching for the reassuring pulse point. Her touch found only cool, damp skin, she couldn't quite feel his pulse.
Panic rising to a crescendo, she turned to the nearest nurse. "Nurse! He's unconscious! Please, help me!" Her voice echoed through the sterile waiting room, shattering the fragile peace.
The scene that unfolded next was a blur. The sterile waiting room, once a place of monotonous boredom, dissolved into a chaotic blur. Nurses materialized from behind the reception desk, their uniforms a stark white against the pale walls. Their movements were a flurry of practiced efficiency as they checked Max's vitals, their voices a low murmur of concern.
The gurney arrived, a metal stretcher with a starched white sheet draped over its frame. With practiced ease, the nurses lifted Max, his body limp and unresponsive.
Emily watched, a detached observer to the scene unfolding before her, as they wheeled him away, the rhythmic squeak of the wheels the only sound that penetrated the fog of her mind.
Emily, left alone and bewildered, was handed a clipboard with a barely audible instruction to "wait here."
Sinking back into the hard plastic chair, Emily cradled the clipboard in her lap. The sterile white walls of the waiting room seemed to close in on her, and she struggled to keep her thoughts clear.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus. She wondered what had just happened to Max to cause him to pass out all of a sudden and if the doctors could help him. She needed to figure out what to do next. But one thing was clear though – this chaotic morning had only just begun.
Emily sat in the waiting room, her heart racing with anxiety. The room was eerily quiet, except for the sound of her own heartbeat, which seemed to echo in her ears. She looked around nervously, hoping for any news that would alleviate her worry.