"Male, mid-forties, collapsed while mowing the lawn," he called back to you, already going up the driveway. "Family says he's not breathing." You reached the man sprawled on the grass. Lips blue, pale skin, not responding. Levi knelt, checking for a pulse. "Nothing. Starting compressions- bag him." The man's wife crying behind you, hands twisting in her apron. Suddenly, Levi's rythem flatored. "Hold up- bag's not inflating, Damn it! Lines blown! Switch to the spare. Now!"
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