When they got to the last quadrant and Dusty heard the words he always waited for, he lifted his nose and made a long arc in front of the debris. He paused and raised one paw. He filled his nose again. Then, without a second’s hesitation, he began to climb.
Nearby, Thor barked the next alert. His bark echoed in the landfill, deep and loud. Luis listened in on the radio as the second victim was confirmed found. “Two down,” Luis said to himself. He wanted Dusty to show them all up. He wanted Dusty to be the best! He’d found the first victim. That was something. But would it be enough to convince the others that Dusty was talented enough for the team?
“Yip!”
“Or you can go ahead and find another!” Luis resisted pumping his fist as he tackled the pile and located Dusty on the far edge of their second search area. Dusty was barking and wagging and wearing a doggy grin, just as excited as Luis.
Shifting a large piece of sheet rock, Dusty’s second victim emerged, and Luis called it in.
“Great work,” he told his partner, who chose to lie down in the debris with Bear secured in his teeth. His latest victory called for a high-quality chomp session, pronto! Dusty chewed happily on Bear’s ear while the victim and Luis took turns petting him.
After Homer had barked his alert, they gathered around the pallets to celebrate their success with the coffee that was left in Laura’s big plaid thermos and a box of donuts that Paul pulled out of his station wagon.
“Welcome to the team,” Paul said, holding his glazed pastry up to “toast” Luis’s maple old-fashioned.
Luis beamed and touched donuts.
“The rock stars have arrived,” Laura crowed. “I don’t know why I ever doubted you, tiny wonder.” She reached down and scratched Dusty behind the ears. Dusty wagged. He kept Bear clamped in his teeth to remind everyone of the fun game, and how he’d won.
Only Sabrina still looked a little reluctant about the new recruits. Sensing that she was accustomed to being top dog, Luis broke his donut and offered Sabrina half. She took it with a smirk. “Consolation prize?” she asked.
“Think of it as a team win,” Luis suggested.
Sabrina laughed. “You know he’s exceptional, right?” she asked, cutting her eyes toward Dusty … who was still flaunting Bear.
“Yeah,” Luis admitted. “And he knows it, too,” he added in a whisper.
Sabrina stuffed the half donut into her mouth. “Okay, then,” she said, still chewing. “I can get used to consolation prizes. Welcome to the team.”
Luis’s ringtone crept into his dreams. The beeping played on the edges of his consciousness for several minutes before finally waking him up. “Huh. What?” he muttered, coming around and fumbling for his phone. He looked at the glowing numbers before pushing accept and saw that it was 4:54 a.m. Who would be calling him this early?
“Hello?” he said, unable to keep the early-morning frog out of his voice.
“Luis? It’s Laura.”
Luis sat up fast. Of course! Laura was the person who would be calling at five a.m. This was it—the call he’d been waiting for, the call he’d half hoped would never come.
“There’s been an earthquake, a seven-point-eight, in Mexico.”
Luis’s heart began pumping fast and hard, making it difficult to absorb everything Laura was saying. The back of his neck prickled. He was from Mexico, and his brother and his family still lived there. “Where?” he half demanded.
“Puebla,” Laura replied.
That didn’t exactly answer Luis’s question. Puebla was a state, a municipality, and a city. Six million people lived in the state, and a million and a half of them made their home in the city of the same name. He’d grown up in a big family in the state, but in a smaller town northwest of the city, in the place where his brother still lived.
“The city, or the municipality?” he asked, trying to hone in.
“Municipality. Outside the city. We’re still finalizing our target location.”
The hairs on the back of Luis’s neck were now standing straight out. His brother, Paco, and his family could be in danger. He told himself to calm down, to not borrow trouble. What were the chances the quake was close enough to have impacted their town?
Luis paced his small bedroom, any lingering sleepiness gone.
Dusty was wide-awake as well, sitting attentively on Luis’s pillow. His eyes were locked on his person, and his big ears twitched as if he could hear and understand the conversation that was happening on the phone.
“We’re mobilizing soon,” Laura said. “I’ll call you back with travel details. Keep your phone on you, and charged.”
“Absolutely,” Luis agreed before hanging up. He immediately tried to call his brother at home but got a recorded message reporting that all circuits were busy. He tried his cell phone, too, but couldn’t get through there, either. He sent a text saying he’d heard about the quake and asking if he and his family were okay.
Just heard about the quake. ¿Están bien?
He considered adding that he and the San Antonio SAR team were being dispatched to help, but decided that information could wait. He sat back down on his bed, closed his eyes, and mumbled a silent prayer that Paco and his family were all right. ¡Por favor!
“Yip!” Dusty fidgeted uneasily. He could tell that something was worrying Luis. The big guy only closed his eyes sitting up when something bad had happened. He felt comforted when Luis opened his eyes again and reached out an arm to pet him.
“We aren’t going to borrow trouble, right?” he said aloud. Dusty had no idea what he was saying but let out a second bark in reply.
Within a moment Luis was on his feet again. He threw his bed into its usual form of made and went to the closet to get out his gear. He kept a backpack and a duffel ready to go for moments like these, but there were always things to add—namely sustenance for both him and Dusty. He added dog food, nuts, jerky, and a few apples.
Dusty watched his partner go back and forth from the kitchen cupboards to the backpack he’d placed on the table, his ears following him as much as his eyes. He could tell from the backpack that they were going on a rescue. He could also tell that Luis was anxious. The smell of worry wafted off him. Dusty sat at his feet while Luis added the food items and water to his pack. Now and then he gave Luis’s ankle a comforting lick, and once his shiny head when he bent to pick something off the floor.
When he ran out of things to stuff into his bag, Luis sat down in the kitchen chair. Dusty jumped into his lap and Luis pet him distractedly. “It’s not good, Dusty,” he said. “It’s not good.”
Once he was dressed, Luis realized he didn’t have anything more to do except wait. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly. He checked his phone for a reply from his brother, but there were no new messages and he didn’t want to tie up the circuits any more than they already were.
“Yip!” Luis raised his head and saw Dusty sitting next to his food bowl, tail wagging. He’d forgotten to feed him! And himself, for that matter. Not that he was hungry. Still, he knew it would be just plain estupido to allow himself or his dog to be deployed on empty stomachs. So he filled Dusty’s bowl with kibble and got out a carton of eggs and some bread for himself.
While he ate he switched on the radio to listen to the news. There was not a lot of information coming out of Mexico, but what was reported was bad. Heavy destruction. Towns flattened. People trapped. Thousands missing. And now fires were starting to burn.
Luis checked his phone again. Still nothing. The eggs in his stomach started to churn. He got out his laptop and combed the Internet for more information. Several news sites were reporting on the earthquake, and all sounded equally pessimistic. He found a map showing where the epicenter was and swallowed hard. It was less than ten miles from his brother’s village. He called Paco again, to no avail. He sent another text. His leg bounced like a needle in a sewing machine, moving up and down frantically. He realized that the toothpick in his mouth was nothing but splinters.
Luis got to his feet and paced. He consulted his packing checklist and unpacked and repacked the duffel to make sure he had everything. Twice. Part of him wanted to get in the car with Dusty and start driving south, but he knew that wouldn’t be a smart choice. He also knew he should probably tell Laura about his brother’s family being close to the epicenter. But what if she wouldn’t let him go?
Dusty watched Luis’s face and smelled his worry. The moment Luis sat down he crawled into his lap and licked his hand. It calmed them both, but Luis could not stay seated for long.
“I’m worried, Dustito,” Luis whispered, absently stroking his fur. He didn’t have to say it. Dusty knew. It was as obvious as skunk spray or a forgotten can of beans in the back of the fridge.
Finally, around 9:10, Luis got a callback from Laura.
“It’s time to head to the airport,” she said. “All eight of us are booked on a flight departing in two and a half hours. I’ll see you there.”
Luis hung up the phone and ran his hand over his head. It would still be hours and hours before they’d arrive, before they could start helping. But at least they were ready to get moving.
Dusty didn’t mind the flight. It reminded him of the airplane ride to the States with the woman who saved him, only this time he didn’t feel nervous or scared. He felt ready to work! He also felt warm and cozy snuggled together with the other dogs being dispatched—Thor, Homer, and Fredo. Their human handlers were seated in the four-seat first row, and the dogs took up every last inch of floor not commandeered by human feet. And even though the other passengers weren’t allowed to pet them or give them treats, they still got a lot of attention. Dusty loved attention!
The only problem, really, was that it was hard to comfort Luis from the floor. He couldn’t curl up in his lap or lick his hand to remind him that they were in this together, that it was going to be all right. He hoped Laura, Paul, and Sabrina were helping him with that.
The moment the plane touched down Laura got into the business of logistics. “We’ve got to get to the Enterprise rental counter,” she said. “Normally we’d be escorted there, but the dispatcher I spoke to this morning was spread so thin I told her we could manage.”
“Follow me,” Luis said. “I’ve been to this airport a million times.”
The Mexico City airport was busier than usual, and it was always bustling. Throngs of people rushed to get to immigration and baggage, and then through customs. The dogs and their vests helped the SAR unit get to the front of the line. Everyone was worried about the earthquake, the damage, and the missing people. Seeing a crew heading out to help gave them hope.
“Thank you for coming!” the immigration officer said in English. Her smiling eyes landed on Thor and Homer and then Fredo, but her brow wrinkled in confusion when she spotted Dusty. “Why is that dog wearing a vest?” she demanded.
Luis sighed and prepared to pull out Dusty’s certification papers, but Laura held him off.
“Believe it or not he’s our lead rescue dog,” she said, meeting the woman’s gaze.
The woman raised a penciled eyebrow but said nothing more. She just stamped all the passports and let them through, watching them go, aghast.
After collecting their baggage, the team got through customs and headed to rental cars, which required a shuttle bus ride. By now Luis felt like his whole body was twitching. He looked at his phone every two minutes. Nothing.
Dusty and the other dogs basked in the points and stares of everyone they passed.
The woman at the Enterprise rental counter gave them the biggest van she had … but with four people, four dogs, and their rescue gear, they needed two. It took an agonizing fifteen minutes to track down a suitable second vehicle. Luis put a fresh toothpick in his mouth and flipped it over and over with his tongue in an effort not to chomp it to bits.
“I am so sorry,” the woman kept saying. Luis could tell that Laura’s unuttered response was something along the lines of “Tell that to the people trapped beneath rubble a hundred miles from here,” and admired her reserve. She just said, “We need a vehicle as quickly as possible. Any vehicle.”
Luis used the extra minutes to send another text message. He even tried again to call—maybe now that they were closer the circuits wouldn’t be as busy. No such luck. The recording played again. Luis took a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped the back of his neck where the hairs were still standing on end.
Finally the eight Texans, people and dogs, piled into two vehicles and started the drive, which would take as long as the flight, if they were lucky. It was rush hour, and the streets and highways were clogged with cars and trucks—some trying to get to the site of the quake, some trying to flee the city, and still others just trying to get home from a day at work.
Luis drove the lead vehicle, with Laura taking the wheel of the second. While the other dogs slept, Dusty sat in Luis’s lap, looking through the steering wheel to the windshield beyond. The side window was cracked open a tiny bit, and familiar and strange smells reached his nostrils. Food, asphalt, metal, engines, and people. Lots and lots of people.
Luis tried to focus on the road and not the shifting landscape as they drove. Once they left the main highway, though, their speed was drastically reduced, and it was impossible not to see the destruction. Each town they passed was worse off than the one before. Shops and casitas and hole-in-the-wall restaurants had collapsed in on themselves, sometimes leaving the tables and chairs intact. Smoke lingered in the air from the fires that followed the quake. They seemed to have been put out—at least right here. Luis knew that fires were a terrifying result of earthquakes—damaged gas lines often erupted into flames that did more damage than the shaking itself.
As they approached the epicenter, the damage was more and more devastating. Whole buildings had collapsed. The road was crumpled in places. They had to drive carefully and sometimes go around places where the asphalt had buckled. In some places road crews had done emergency repairs so essential vehicles could get across. The setting sun cast this horror in a beautiful pink glow, almost making it look like a museum photo or a movie set. It was surreal and creepy. It would be dark soon, and lights wouldn’t turn on. Power wouldn’t be restored tonight. It could be off for days, or weeks.
All in all, it was hard to grasp what they were seeing.
Luis gulped and reached a hand to stroke Dusty’s soft fur, thinking of his brother, and realizing that every last bit of what he was seeing was real.
Finally, just after last light, the two vans crawled into the town of Aztecan. Luis checked his phone the moment the engine was turned off … nothing. His instincts told him to go to Paco’s house immediately, but he also knew he wasn’t here as an individual. He was part of a crew, and his job was to help the larger team with their rescue efforts. He wasn’t here for his brother or his brother’s family. He was here for the earthquake victims—all of them. He was here to search.
Shoving his instincts aside, he focused on the efforts of the group. The problem was, it wasn’t entirely clear what those efforts were, because chaos ruled. Most of the streets were broken, buckled, or blocked by building debris, fallen trees, or both.
“I need you all to stay right here,” Laura said. “I’m going to see if I can find someone in charge.” Luis nodded, looking over Laura’s shoulder and noting a human chain of people moving rubble out of the street with their hands to let a fire truck pass. Farther down the block—or what he guessed was a block, since it was impossible to tell where one block ended and another began—makeshift tents and shelters had been set up to house and feed displaced people. Anyone could see it wasn’t enough.
Dusty sat sniffing the air, his fur and ears lying almost flat. Somewhere nearby he could smell food, but it was a tiny smell compared to the smell of metal and broken concrete and crushed wood and blood and death. Those smells clogged his nose, refusing to make room for anything else.
“I think that’s the medical tent,” Paul said. Homer sat pa
tiently by his side, ever calm and steady. They’d heard that the town’s medical clinic—small to begin with—had been flattened, and further destroyed by fire. They silently took in the scene. Each of them wondered how much help they could possibly be. The situation was overwhelming. Luis bent down and picked up a rock from the road and carried it to the edge. One stone at a time, they would clear up the mess.
“Paul, Sabrina, over here!” Laura called. “I found the staging area.”
The dogs and their handlers picked their way around a pile of rubble to Laura and followed her to a large tent lit by emergency lights and a generator on wheels. Laura didn’t waste a second. She introduced them to the Incident Commander, a man named Julio. Julio’s English was slow, so Luis spoke to him in Spanish and translated. The look Julio gave Dusty, though, didn’t require any language.
Luis ignored him—a skill he was getting better at with each passing day. “We’re the group from San Antonio Search and Rescue,” he explained. “We were dispatched just this morning.”
“Are you that dog’s handler?” Julio wanted to know.
“Sí,” Luis replied steadily, reaching for his certification. Before he could get the papers Sabrina spoke up.
“Don’t judge Dusty by his size … he’s our best search and rescue dog.” Julio blinked, and Luis translated.
“Estoy seguro,” Julio said with a responding nod. I’m sure. He raised a hand and pointed to a pair of smaller tents about seventy-five yards away. “Find yourselves a cot and get something to eat. Sleep if you can. Someone will be there who can update you.” Another man in uniform—dirty and exhausted—stepped up to Julio, and it was clear there was no time for further questions.
The humans and their canines picked their way along the street to the tented area.
“Not the warmest of welcomes,” Sabrina mumbled.
“You can’t really blame them,” Paul replied. “I mean, look what they’re dealing with.”
The team walked painfully slowly through crowds of people, fallen trees, dust, and heavy equipment. Once they made it to the tents, they split up and stepped around and over makeshift cots and bed pallets on the ground, searching for a few spots they could claim as their own. After what seemed like a long time they found an unclaimed section. There were only two cots and they sagged badly, but there was a pallet on the ground. It was better than nothing, and as good as it was going to get. They were settling in when a woman approached.
Dusty Page 13
