Greg had to be told the next several minutes of what happened later. He had no recollection of the EMT's hauling him and Robert out of there. They were both taken on a stretcher, to different hospitals. The only thing Greg did recall is one of the cops draping a white sheet over Jessie's corpse. They had affixed an oxygen mask to Greg's face, an a small IV of blood to combat his fluid loss. Greg's heart stopped in the ambulance ride over. The EMT had climbed on top of him , straddled his considerable stomach, and had given pulmonary resuscitation as they awaited the crash cart to charge it's first burst. After 2 zaps, they had his old ticker humming again.
This whole scenario was relayed to Greg by the second EMT who had operated him on the back. The EMT that was on top of him was actually a girl, and not too bad looking, from what Greg could see. She was a tiny little blonde firecracker, and Greg almost wished he had another health problem to provide opportunity for her to ride him again. He told this lame joke to the EMT, who had smiled thinly and shrugged, saying he had thought about it on occasion, too.
Greg had laughed uproariously at that, until a fit of coughing forced him to have his oxygen mask put back on. By this time, Greg was loaded up on plenty of pain pills, and was feeling pretty groovy.
Nothing like pharmaceuticals to help put a positive spin on your shitty life. Greg's store was in ruins, torn up and shot to hell. Some of his most expensive items had been another victim of Jessie's terrible rampage. But nevermind that now, Greg was doped up and felt like he was on cloud nine, whatever the hell that meant. Whatever cloud had the most drugs, that's where he wanted to be.
Greg drifted in and out of time. He wounds were first stabilized in the trauma center. As he came to in the ER Intensive care unit, he had just enough time to space out and watch TV. His store was on the news. Yellow Police caution tape was strung up around seemingly every inch of the front of his store. The reporter was a tiny lady who looked so cold she might be suffering hypothermia. Her tiny voice was barely perceptible through the TV's tiny mesh speakers. He caught every other word. Robbery, shootout, daring escape, bloody sceneThe plastic tape flapped in the breeze with a sound that was soothing to Greg for some reason. It reminded him of the triangle pennant decorations they used to have at the county fair. Greg drifted off into abstract drug wonder. He came to again, long enough to be told he was going int the Operating Room, then he was under anesteshia again.
As the hours wore on, though, that magical feeling began to wear off. He began to comprehend the true condition of his store and belongings. Then sleep became difficult.

At one point, Greg awoke and all he could see was the lovely arch of a female chin and cheek, complete with a set of beautiful red lips. To his amazement, the lips kissed him firmly on the cheek, puckering against his rough stubble. The lips planted one on him softly, then withdrew. Greg gazed down and was blessed with a  glimpse down this woman's shirt. HEr low cut blue blouse hung loose from her dangling breasts, and Greg could see her lacy bra squeezing those beautiful melons together in a tight nook of cleavage. As she straightened to stand, he saw a brief glimpse of her soft, slim belly as well, trailing away to meet her tiny waist.
If Greg didn't have a catheter in at the time, his raging erection would have shown more prominately through his hospital gown. His eyes leaned upward to greet her face. It was the mother again. She was certainly more gussied up than when he last had seen her. Her soft brown hair was done into a neat and tidy bun, much like it must have looked before her ordeal last time. Her eye was still very puffy and swollen. He could see light reflecting off the smooth surface of her shiner, but there was also a butterfly bandage placed across the bridge of her nose, to keep that wound shut. Both of her blue eyes were streaming tears, even her puffy one.
"Thank you" she said meekly, voice choked with emotion.
Greg attempted to respond, but the fog of chemicals from his medications made his brain swirl. Before he drifted out yet again, he had time to think to himself that there was no ring on her finger...

LINK TO PART 6: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/user/blog/artman4444/view=82169797/