American Medicine: I survived the death knell thanks to the devil.

Chapter 449 Ah, Politicians

Lynn parked the car 30 meters outside the checkpoint, turned off the engine, and opened the trunk.

The first-aid kit was placed in the right corner; it was made of black waterproof material with reflective strips on the zipper. He slung the first-aid kit over his shoulder and then stuffed a box of nitrile gloves into his coat pocket.

Not long ago, Park Min-ah sent me a message.

There is only one exclamation mark.

This was a pre-arranged code between the two, signifying that something big had happened in the tolerance zone.

An exclamation mark wasn't enough to explain the situation, so he decided to go and check it out alone first.

On the way here, Lynn saw a reddish-orange glow on the horizon, with a column of smoke rising. The base of the smoke was thick and black, indicating that it was burning plastic or other synthetic polymer materials.

The evacuation zone is crowded at night, and even a slight delay could lead to serious casualties. But from this distance, he couldn't see the extent of the injuries. Perhaps the fire department had already arrived, or perhaps it was just a fire in the warehouse's waste materials.

Standing outside the checkpoint on the north side, Lynn realized that the situation was even worse than he had anticipated.

The road in front of the checkpoint was crowded with people.

There are probably fifty or sixty, maybe more.

Some people were squatting on the curb coughing violently, some were sitting on the ground holding their heads, and some were leaning against the iron railings retching incessantly.

Two men were supporting a woman whose face was covered in dust and whose trouser legs were smeared with blood. A barefoot young man staggered out of the gap, half of his shirt was charred, and after taking two steps, his knees buckled and he knelt on the ground.

In the distance, someone was crying, the sobs intermittent. From deep within the gap, shouts and the sound of metal clanging could be faintly heard.

A police officer stands at the exit of the zigzag passageway.

His uniform collar was torn open, his face was covered in sweat and dust, and his arms hung limply at his sides, trembling uncontrollably.

A person who had just been pulled out of the passageway lay motionless in front of me.

Lynn glanced at the officer's face.

Pupils dilate, orbicularis oculi muscle contracts continuously, lower lip trembles involuntarily. Breathing is rapid and nearly twice the normal rate.

What he just witnessed had exceeded his limits, but his responsibilities still compelled him to stay here.

People were still trying to squeeze out of the gap, scattered here and there, with only one or two coming out at a time.

They were covered in dust, their clothes torn, some had been carried out of the passage and collapsed as soon as they hit the ground. The iron railings of the zigzag passage were bent at more than ten degrees, and several people were still stuck at the bend, some barely moving, others completely motionless.

Lynn glanced into the gap.

Above the container wall, half the sky was illuminated by the dark orange glow of the fire. A column of smoke rose hundreds of meters away, its base thick and churning, gradually dissipating into a large patch of grayish-brown smoke. Waves of heat surged from the gap, and even three meters away, the heat could still be felt.

A muffled thud came from afar, followed by a burst of sparks shooting into the sky, which were then scattered by the night wind and drifted down in all directions.

The fire continues and is spreading to the surrounding areas.

There are still quite a few people inside who haven't come out yet.

Lynn scanned the crowd and quickly found Park Min-ah.

Lynn asked her to send a picture of herself after the transformation, to avoid any accidents.

She sat on the road a dozen meters away from the gap, her left hand pressed tightly against her right forearm. A tear was visible in the right sleeve of her hoodie, blood seeping from between her fingers and dripping onto her knees. Her baseball cap was gone, and her hair lay loose over her shoulders.

Lynn walked over, knelt down in front of her, and put on gloves.

"let me see."

Park Min-ah looked up.

Upon recognizing Lynn, her tense expression immediately relaxed.

Her clenched jaw relaxed, her lips trembled, and tears quickly welled up in her eyes. She had held on for so long; finally, she had received help.

As a doctor, Lynn had seen this expression many times.

Besides the hospital, he had also seen it on television in rescue footage; those trapped in the rubble for dozens of hours would react the same way when they heard the rescue team calling out.

"Lynn—" she said in a hoarse voice.

"The zigzag passage is blocked—people have been trampled to death inside—the exit is too narrow, hundreds of people are crammed in there—"

Her voice was still trembling, a sign of acute stress. Her pupils were dilated, and she blinked more than twice as often as normal, but her masseter and frontalis muscles remained tense, and her mouth did not droop.

Even with her fear at its limit, she still tried her best to explain the situation clearly, relying on her journalistic instincts.

"Let me bandage you first." Lynn gently moved her left hand away from the wound.

There is a 12-centimeter-long laceration on the outer side of the right forearm, with jagged edges and everted subcutaneous tissue. This is a laceration caused by barbed wire; the barbs were forcibly pulled out after piercing the skin, tearing the surrounding tissue in the process.

The wound is still bleeding, but not rapidly. The radial and ulnar arteries are undamaged, finger movement is normal, and the main tendons are intact.

He took a gauze pad from the first aid kit and pressed it against the wound.

"Press it down firmly."

Park Min-ah immediately did as instructed, pressing her fingers firmly against the gauze, not daring to loosen her grip at all.

Lynn took out an elastic bandage, quickly wrapped it around four times, tightened it, and tied a knot.

"Press firmly, don't let go."

"Okay," Park Min-ah replied softly. She had inevitably fallen into despair when faced with the sudden disaster. When Lynn came to her side, she finally caught her breath, and her breathing gradually became even.

Lynn stood up.

How many people are inside tonight?

Park Min-ah said, "At least six or seven hundred."

"There were over 150 people on the striptease stage alone. There were also drug addicts; several were lying against the wall, and even though the fire was right in front of them, they didn't react at all."

How many exits are there?

"Two. The one on the north side, and the other one on the west side."

"How's the west side?"

"I don't know, I came from the north."

Lynn turned to the police officer.

How many people have come out from here?

The officer opened his mouth, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

"I don't know—there were many. They came out quite quickly at first, but then it slowed down—someone fell, and the people behind them just stepped on them—"

His voice began to tremble as he said this.

Lynn comforted him, "You did a great job. Hold this place; we can save as many as we can."

In the face of a disaster, estimating the number of casualties is the most important first task, as this will facilitate subsequent rescue efforts.

Lynn turned around and quickly estimated the number of people.

There were six or seven hundred people at two exits. Fifty or sixty people came out from the north side, but the situation on the west side was unclear; hopefully, it was about the same. There were still people blocking the passage, and some were lying on the ground.

Conservative estimates suggest that four to five hundred people are still trapped in the containment area. Where are they gathered—are they concentrated in one place or scattered in different locations? Which areas are closest to the fire? These questions are unclear, and the fire department must know them when it enters the scene for search and rescue.

The fire continues to spread.

Lynn took out her phone.

The bell rang three times.

"Lynn?" The mayor reacted quickly and immediately became alert. Lynn had actually called him at this time, instead of his secretary.

"A warehouse caught fire in the tolerance zone of East Harlem, and a massive stampede occurred. There were six or seven hundred people at the scene, most of whom did not get out, and deaths have been confirmed."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

How big is the fire?

"You can see the smoke column from 112th Street."

"Is there any way to quietly handle this?"

Lynn was not surprised.

When disaster strikes, some people don't care about saving lives; all they can think about is how to cover things up.

Ordinary people were terrified, but politicians were already used to thinking this way.

Lynn said, "Six or seven hundred people. In a few minutes, the fire trucks and ambulances will be here. Most of the high-rises in Manhattan can see that plume of smoke; it can't be hidden."

On the phone, the mayor's breathing became heavy.

The mayor staked his entire political future on the tolerance zone. This project absolutely could not be made public; if it went well, all the credit would go to him.

Street crime rates have decreased, drug trafficking has become more concentrated, and community complaints have decreased. Any one of these statistics would be enough for him to talk about during his re-election campaign.

The warehouse is now on fire, and hundreds of people are trapped inside.

Once the news breaks, the whole country will know that the mayor of New York City has created this lawless area in East Harlem, which has even resulted in a death.

"Has the media not received the news yet?"

"Not for now, but we can't hide it for long."

He fell silent again.

When the mayor spoke again, the sleepiness and annoyance in his voice had faded. He began to consider the consequences of this incident.

The losses are enormous; how much can be recovered?

What do you need?

Lynn said, "Two things."

"First, mobilize all the medical resources you can. Metropolitan Hospital, Lincoln Hospital, Harlem Hospital, prepare to receive large numbers of wounded. You're the mayor, you can get the whole system moving with just one phone call. I couldn't do it even if I made ten calls."

"And the second one?"

"We need to divert the existing patients at the Hope Trauma Center to nearby hospitals. Those in the emergency observation area, those waiting for beds, and those who don't need surgery should all be transferred out. I want to free up the entire trauma center to receive the injured people here."

"Do you need me to coordinate the transfer to another hospital?"

"Without prior notice from the mayor's office, which hospital would accept dozens of transferred patients at once?"

"Okay, I'll arrange it."

The mayor paused, then lowered his voice and added, "Lynn, suppress as much of the news as possible."

Lynn hung up the phone immediately.

The mayor's phone rang again. He glanced at it; it was the head of the NYPD.

"Fuck, the news is taking forever!"

Lynn dialed the emergency room hotline of Hope Trauma Center again.

It's easiest to command your own people and you can gather manpower the fastest.

"I'm Lynn, on the north side of the East Harlem Tolerance Zone. There's been a massive fire and stampede here, and I'm the only medic on site. I need backup."

"All ambulances and emergency personnel have been dispatched, along with all available emergency equipment. The mayor is coordinating with surrounding hospitals to receive patients. You should start arranging patient transfers now; transfer all those who can be transferred to other hospitals to free up the trauma center."

After hanging up the phone, Lynn placed the first aid kit on the ground, opened it, and began to check on the injured people around her one by one.

In the event of mass casualties, the triage process needs to be redesigned. With limited resources, we must use them to save as many lives as possible.

Those who can still walk should be placed last. Those who are breathing and have a pulse, but cannot walk, should wait for now.

If breathing is weak or has stopped but can be restored by opening the airway, immediate treatment is necessary. If breathing remains absent even after opening the airway, the treatment must be abandoned.

Normally in the emergency room, every patient deserves our utmost effort to save. But when the number of injured far exceeds our capacity to treat them, we have no choice but to make this decision.

The first aid kit was fully equipped. It contained an airbag mask, tourniquet, elastic bandage, cervical spine immobilizer, hemostatic gauze, chlorhexidine, and an oropharyngeal airway—everything you need for pre-hospital emergency care.

But with hundreds of wounded, the equipment carried by just one doctor was not enough to support an emergency room.