The Lifesaving Quota

This story was part of the 500-word Fear 2025 Writing Battle. My prompts were to follow the horror genre, have a character be a paramedic, and include a coin. The following was what I submitted. Cheers!

Jackson’s leg bounces as he stares down the enormous clock on the wall. The analog face hovers above various trinkets to symbolize vitality and camaraderie. An award for bravery. An amusing calendar of scantily-clad employees posing with their emergency vehicles. A fold-out table that has been there since the 80s, upon which rests a deeply stained, communal coffee pot and a half-empty box of pastries. Only the clock, however, taunts Jackson now. Each twitch of the second hand is the flick of a sparkwheel, threatening to ignite him with fear. He wills time to slow, running his thumb along the edge of the coin in his pocket, over and over, as though he could take control of the wheel of time itself. 

Twenty minutes until midnight.

He curses under his breath and leans back in his chair, one of many lining the brick wall of the depot. After all these years of successfully meeting his daily quota, he had become complacent. Perhaps even a little cocky. He had never left his quota for the night shift before; even working in a large city, in which every moment heralded someone's emergency, it was a risk. He should have just gone out before his shift and taken care of it. But no, Jackson had attempted to be social this afternoon. He had lunch with coworkers. He went to a birthday party. He celebrated life. He even, mistakenly, thought he could enjoy himself.

Idiot, he thinks, you forfeited your right to an enjoyable life.

Thudding footsteps vibrate across the floor as Jackson’s assigned partner for the shift, Aiden, rounds the corner with a newspaper partially obscuring his face. His thick brows furrow in a deep frown as his eyes graze over the stories. He sighs and tosses the paper onto the table before pouring himself a cup of communal coffee.

“Bad news?”

Steaming liquid splashes across the table as Aiden jumps. A burnt odor wafts through the air. “Jeez, man, you scared me!” He fumbles around to clean the mess, sending napkins flying. “You’re so quiet, I didn’t even notice you were there.” 

Jackson offers an apologetic hand wave, but says nothing. Going unnoticed was normal for him. His quiet demeanor and penchant to fade into the background was once a sore spot. Even his professors forgot his name. It had led Jackson to attempt taking his own life years ago. Then, moments before he was clinically dead, he saw the most curious sight, one he had only imagined back before he changed his major from classics to biology. He saw black, misty shores, where a withered, outstretched hand, waiting to take him in the gondola away from purgatory. If only he had the proper tender. Fear gripped him, and he struggled to stay conscious. He begged. Pleaded. Promised he would do anything for the gift of life.

Anything.

Seventeen minutes.

Aiden shakes his head and wipes a few stubborn drops from his uniform. “Don’t mind me. Just a bit spooked.” He nods towards the paper and lowers his voice. “They found another body in my neighborhood. Freaky stuff, man… It’s not even like it’s a serial killer or anything, ya know?” He turns to Jackson and leans against the table, sipping his undoubtedly burnt coffee. “At least when there are patterns or something you know it’s just one evil guy. But these last few years…”

Jackson only half listens as Aiden drones on about murder rates. He, too, is concerned about the number of bodies being found. But he has a more pressing fear at the moment.

Fifteen minutes.

An angelic sound interrupts: a beat of static followed by the distorted voice from dispatch. Someone just called in a gunshot wound just blocks away.

"You drive!" Jackson shouts, already bounding towards the idle ambulance. Excitement pounds in his chest. He could still meet his quota!

_______________

By the time the two arrive at the scene, it is ten minutes to midnight.

“I’ll assess, you get the gear!” Jackson storms out of the back and into the street before Aiden has any chance to argue. He races toward the sprawled figure on the ground and shoos away the few curious people gathered around the body. 

His mind flows into a familiar, checklist state as he assesses the scene. The woman is unconscious. Judging by the amount of blood pooled beneath the body, she has either been here for some time, or the bullet hit an artery. He checks for a pulse. Somewhere behind him, Jackson hears Aiden fumbling with the jump bag. 

He checks his watch. Seven minutes.

Pulse is present, but extremely weak. In the flashing lights, Jackson can just make out the source of the blood. Abdomen, just shy of the ribs. He leans in to listen for any sound or hint of a punctured lung, hopeful. He hears nothing.

I can work with this…

Jackson repositions himself to obscure the view of onlookers and the oncoming Aiden. With a flick of his wrist, he pulls a pocket knife from his shirt pocket and makes a quick nick inside of the bleeding wound. A wet, sucking whistle emerges from the body. He replaces the knife without cleaning it; blood on his shirt would hardly be suspicious.

For the next several minutes, Aiden helps Jackson administer aid. Jackson works just a hair shy of his usual frenetic pace, but nothing so dramatic that Aiden would notice. Just before midnight, Jackson sits back, blood covering his arms and chest, feigning defeat and exhaustion. Aiden reaches over and gives his partner a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"You did the best you could. What was I saying, violence these days..." He wanders back to the ambulance to make the call.

Before his partner or the onlookers return, Jackson produces the coin from his pocket. In the blink of an eye, it is gone again, hidden in the victim’s now-closed mouth.

Charon will be pleased. The ferryman is one coin richer. 

Jackson lives one day more.

I received some great feedback on how to potentially raise the stakes (would Jackson be so desperate as to kill his coworker? Absolutely! I should show that!) and amp up the pacing in the beginning. Feel free to add any additional feedback.

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