“Is there a doctor around?” Stone was holding on to the stricken man, trying to calm him.

“Doc Warner’s place is on the other side of town.”

“You have a car?”

“Truck right there.” The old man pointed to a battered old Dodge. “Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. Who are you?”

“His grandpa. Come to check on him. Then this happened.”

“Can you help me get him in the truck?”

Together they lifted the young man into the cab and Stone covered him with a blanket. The old man was still shaking so badly he couldn’t drive. Stone took the wheel and followed his directions to the doctor’s place.

“What’s your grandson’s name?”

“Willie Coombs. I’m Bob Coombs.”

“Where are his parents?”

“My son—his daddy—is dead. His momma ain’t much good.”

Stone glanced at Willie. He’d stopped thrashing and screaming and was now lying quite still. Stone again checked his pulse, slammed on the brakes and grabbed a flashlight off the dash to look at his pupils. They were pinpoints.

“Shit!”

“What is it?”

“He’s not in withdrawal. He overdosed. And his heart’s stopped.”

Stone pulled Willie out of the cab, set him on the ground and started doing CPR. He checked his pulse and then looked desperately around while he continued to push down on the man’s chest. There was nothing but woods here, not even the wink of a house light in the distance.

“Come on, Willie. Come on! Don’t die on me. Breathe.”

Stone checked his pulse.

Bob Coombs looked at him. “Is he okay?”

“No, he’s not. He’s technically dead. And we’ve got maybe sixty seconds before there’s brain damage.”

Stone ran to the truck and threw open the hood. The battery didn’t throw off the juice he would need, but something else in the engine did. He ran to the cargo bed and started tossing items around there. His hands seized around a set of battery cables, masking tape and a nail.

He turned to see Bob staring at him anxiously. “Whatcha gonna do with that stuff?”

“I’m trying to get his heart restarted.”

Stone ripped out a spark plug wire leading from the distributor cap and jammed the nail in the end of it, securing it there with the tape. He attached the positive end of the battery cables to the nail while he grounded the negative clamp onto a metal part of the engine. He knelt next to Willie and placed the other ends of the battery cables onto his right and left fingers respectively.

He called out, “Bob, fire the truck up!”

Bob looked at the cables leading from the truck to his grandson. “You gonna fry him!”

“We’re out of time, Bob. This is our only shot. Just do it! Now! Or he’s dead.”

Bob jumped in the truck.