Chapter 1: The Tire
“There! Maybe that’ll get your attention!”
The sharp metal point tore through the ambulance tire with a violent hiss.
Karen jerked the heavy wrench sideways, widening the puncture before pulling it free. For half a second, she simply stared at what she had done.
Then she smiled.
The white-and-red ambulance had been parked along the curb outside the clubhouse for less than ten minutes. Its emergency lights flashed silently in the afternoon sun while the rear passenger-side tire collapsed against the pavement.
Karen stood beside it in her bright red pants and loud floral blouse, breathing hard.
“You don’t get to block my street whenever you damn well please!”
She barely had time to turn before the paramedic came running.
He was a fit man in his early forties, dressed in a navy EMS uniform and reflective vest. He had been inside the clubhouse helping with a medical emergency when he noticed Karen crouched beside the ambulance.
He stopped several feet away.
His eyes moved from the flattened tire to the wrench in her hand.
“Drop the wrench. Step away from the ambulance.”
Karen raised her chin.
“I warned you.”
The paramedic stared at her.
“You just punctured an ambulance tire.”
Karen gave a dismissive shrug.
“You people have been warned about parking here.”
The paramedic took another step forward, keeping his attention on the weapon.
“This vehicle may need to leave immediately.”
Karen laughed bitterly.
“You don’t get to block my street whenever you feel like it.”
The ambulance was no longer simply an inconvenience.
It was disabled.
Karen had made certain of that.
She lifted the wrench slightly, pointing toward the vehicle.
“I told you. You ignored me. So now you’re staying right there.”
The paramedic’s expression changed.
He wasn’t frightened.
He was stunned.
He had spent years responding to wrecks, heart attacks, falls, overdoses, and frightened families. He knew what panic looked like. He knew what anger looked like.
This was something else.
Entitlement.
Karen’s grip suddenly slipped.
The heavy wrench struck the pavement with a metallic clang.
She bent down.
The paramedic stepped between her and the tool.
“Don’t touch it.”
Karen froze.
For the first time, she looked past him.
Her eyes traveled upward.
Mounted above the ambulance was a small black camera.
She stared at it.
The paramedic followed her gaze.
Karen’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
The anger in her eyes was suddenly mixed with concern.
She looked back at him.
“Call the cops,” she said coldly. “Maybe they’ll explain why your ambulance thought my street was more important than my property.”
Then she folded her arms.
The tire continued hissing behind them.
And the camera kept recording.
