"We're losing him!" A paramedic cried. Petes head snapped up to look at him.
"What? You said he'd be ok!" He nearly shouted at them, but he couldn't, they were doing everything they could.
"Get the paddles! Start at 150cc!" They yelled at each other as one got out two small white paddles from under his seat. He charged them as the other two ripped Kurts shirt off, it was already torn anyway.
The black paramedic, who had helped get Kurts shirt off, got out two little pieces of plasticy material and put them on Kurts chest, one on the right side, one on the left.
"Clear!" Bzzzt! went the paddles on Kurts almost bare flesh. A machine had been hooked up to Kurt and was beating furiously, now it was silent.
Pete put his head in his hands and fresh tears fell down his cheeks. His son couldn't die, they had always been there for each other and even though they had been through some tough times, they had always kept father and son.
Pete looked at the machine, it still wasn't beeping. C'mon Kurt, he whispered as he held Kurts hand.
"200cc!" The black paramedic turned a dial on the machine under his chair.
"Clear!" BZZZT! The noise was louder this time. Kurt jolted on the gurney (I remembered what they were called!). But still no beeping.
Pete gave up all hope and openly wept.
"Shall we try the 300cc?" In answer the black paramedic turned the switch.
They didn't bother to shout "clear!" this time, they were in too much of a hurry.
BZZZZZT! The sound shook the ambulance.
Silence engulfed them.