by Emily Forbes
‘Hey, what’s wrong?’
His voice came through the microphone. She’d forgotten about the tiny camera that had been fed into her space. She could see the thin pole running along the length of his arm. Just because she couldn’t see him didn’t mean he couldn’t see her.
‘I wasn’t sure I’d ever see another person again,’ she answered honestly.
She held onto his hand for several seconds before letting go. She didn’t want to let go, she felt safe with her hand in his, but she wanted to see his face again. She needed to see his smile.
He removed his arm and suddenly there he was, grinning down at her again.
‘Sorry, it was my face you got.’
‘I’m glad it’s you. You have a very nice face.’
She wondered what had got into her. She never volunteered her feelings. She’d learnt to bottle them up since her mother had died. Showing your feelings gave other people a chance to hurt you, but for the first time in hours her fears were receding and it was all to do with this man.
‘Are you positive you’re not injured? Concussion, perhaps?’ He was still grinning at her.
‘I might have a slight concussion,’ she admitted, and then she smiled. ‘And my eyes might need a bit more time to get accustomed to the light.’ A little levity made her feel much better. Much more positive.
‘That would explain it. I’ll make a note to get your eyes tested when we get you out of there.’
‘You will get me out, won’t you?’
‘We will. This is what we’ve been hoping for. You’re what we’ve been hoping for.’
‘What do you mean?’ She saw a little crease appear between his dark eyebrows. There was a worried look in his green eyes and Charli felt a flutter of panic. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘We’ve been searching for two days. You’re the first person we’ve found.’
‘The first person? Are other people missing?’ For some reason she’d imagined that whatever had gone wrong had only affected her apartment. She hadn’t considered other people for one minute. She hadn’t had room in her head for those thoughts but now she really needed to know what was going on. ‘What happened?’
‘There was a landslide. It started on the mountain above you.’ He paused and she sensed he was figuring out how much to tell her. How bad could it be? ‘Two lodges collapsed and sixteen people were missing.’
‘Sixteen! How many have you found?’
‘Ten. Including you.’
She knew she should be grateful that she’d been found but she was struggling with the horror of the situation. It was hard to wrap her head around. A landslide. Whole buildings collapsed. Six people still missing. She was too scared to ask how many others had survived.
‘All right, time to get to work.’ Pat’s voice jolted her back to the present. ‘We have a team of people up here—Dave you’ve met, Dr Melissa Cartwright, an ED specialist, engineers, mining experts and lots of pairs of hands all working to get you out, but first we need to check your condition. I’m going to start sending a few things your way. We’re going to pump some warm air in and also set up a tube with some warm fluids to rehydrate you, but I’ll also send down an oxygen mask and some leads to monitor your condition. Obviously, I can’t get down to you yet but I’ll talk you through it all.’
‘I know what to do.’
‘You do?’
‘I’m a doctor.’
‘You’re a doctor?’
‘Yes. I’ve just finished my Foundation Training. I’m about to start GP training.’ She couldn’t remember if she’d told him that. She couldn’t have.
‘That’ll make things easier,’ he said as he passed a thermometer down through the hole. ‘Are you able to take an axillary temp for me?’
‘Yes.’ She was willing to do just about anything for him at this point in time.
She reached up for the thermometer, preparing herself for his touch this time, telling herself not to hold onto him, but her loneliness, fear and despair were still so close to the surface of her emotions that the touch of his hand brought tears to her eyes once again. The warmth of his fingers set her nerves alight, sending sparks shooting up her arm. She would have thought it was just because of the contrast in temperature between his skin and hers except for the fact that his touch set her heart racing. She fought to control her breathing, to control her heart rate, knowing she needed to stay calm, but it was difficult when all she wanted to do was cling to Pat and never let go.
Deciding she’d have to figure out how to cope with his touch, she put the thermometer under her armpit and clamped it in place. She didn’t want to send them all into a panic when her pulse was taken.
She passed the thermometer back up through the hole, disappointed when Pat held it by the end, meaning she missed his touch. She could hear them discussing the reading. She knew her temperature was low as she’d read the numbers before passing it back. It was thirty-three point five degrees, and even though an axillary reading could be a degree out it was still well below a normal temperature of thirty-six point eight. But she was reassured by the fact that, despite the quilt, she was still shivering. That was potentially a good sign. She was possibly only mildly hypothermic.
Pat’s hand appeared through the hole once more as he passed down some warmed blankets, some chemical heat packs, an oxygen mask and a pulse oximeter.
As she looked at the assortment it hit home that, as Pat had told her, it would take a while to get her out of there. She wrapped the blankets around her and then tucked the heat packs underneath. Fortunately Pat had already broken them to start the chemical reaction as she doubted she’d have the strength or dexterity in her cold, stiff fingers to do it herself. She bent her knees to hold one in her groin and another against her stomach. She’d love a pair of socks for her frozen feet but she knew the dangers of warming her extremities up too quickly. Forcing cold blood away from her hands and feet and back to her heart was highly risky and could be fatal.
Next through the hole was a long plastic feeding tube. Pat’s voice came through the microphone. ‘This is warm fluid, sip it slowly.’
She clipped the pulse oximeter onto her forefinger and sipped on the electrolyte and nutrient mixture. She thought it was possibly the best thing she’d tasted, ever. She took a couple of sips and then put the oxygen mask on.
‘Keep the tube close,’ Pat told her. ‘Take a couple of mouthfuls at regular intervals, I’ll tell you when. And one more thing, I’m going to pass a pipe down through the hole. It’s called a bear-hugger and it looks like a vacuum-cleaner hose, but it’s basically a heater. We’ll blow warm air into your space and slowly increase the temperature. You’re not going to be able to see out through this hole any more and the engineers are going to start drilling to my right, above your feet. Okay?’
Charli nodded. She closed her eyes and held the kindness in his eyes and the warmth of his smile in her heart.
She flinched as the engineers began drilling again. The noise startled her and the vibrations rattled and shook her surroundings, just like during the landslide. It was frightening. She tried to slow her breathing, knowing her respirations and heart rate were being monitored for signs of stress, but she knew she was failing. She could hear herself sucking in lungfuls of oxygen through the mask. But at least it went some way towards blocking out the smell of diesel fuel, sewage and mud.
Finally the noise ground to a halt and she felt herself relax. She opened her eyes. Had they made it through already? That hadn’t been too bad.
But she saw no difference in her surroundings. A hole had not miraculously opened up at her feet. She was still entombed.
‘How’re you doing, Charli?’
‘It sounds as though the ceiling is going to collapse.’ She found it difficult to talk, her accelerated heartbeat making her breathing shallow.
‘I promise w
e know what we’re doing. Would you like to listen to some music? That might block out some of the noise. Who do you like to listen to?’
‘Adele.’
‘Who?’
‘Adele. She’s an English singer. You haven’t heard of her?’ Charli could feel her breathing and heart-rate return to normal as Pat’s voice calmed her down. If only he could be in her tiny space with her, she knew she’d feel better. She thought she could cope with anything if he was beside her. ‘I thought she was big all round the world.’
‘She probably is. I spend most of my time listening to The Wiggles.’
Charli had vaguely heard of The Wiggles. She thought they were a children’s music group. ‘You have kids?’
‘A daughter. She’s three.’
Of course he had a family. Disappointment flooded through her. She hadn’t realised she’d been building a whole fantasy world for him to exist in, and it hadn’t included a wife and family. She closed her eyes and sighed. He hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a partner. But if that were the case, why had he offered to buy her a drink and take her to brunch? She knew the answer to that one. Because all men were bastards. She certainly knew how to pick them. Or did they pick her? Was there something about her that attracted unfaithful men?
‘Charli? Are you still with me?’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘CHARLI? CAN YOU still hear me?’
Pat watched her through the monitor, his heart racing as panic gripped him. Her eyes were closed, dark eyelashes resting against pale cheeks. Was she conscious? Hypothermic? Was she all right? He couldn’t see if her chest was moving and his concern escalated as the silence stretched on.
‘Charli?’
‘Are you married?’
He breathed out a sigh of relief as Charli opened her eyes and spoke to him. He hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath, anxiously waiting to hear her voice.
‘What?’ It took him a second or two to process her question. ‘No, I’m not married.’
Margie had been dead for two years. He’d come to terms with the fact that she was gone but even though he still thought of her as his wife he didn’t think of himself as married. He was very much alone.
‘But you have a daughter?’
‘Yes.’ Alone except for Ella.
‘Where is she?’
‘In Melbourne.’
‘Do you live in Melbourne?’
‘Yes.’
‘You were supposed to have left Wombat Gully by now, weren’t you? You told me you were going to Melbourne on the night we met.’
‘Yes. The landslide changed my plans somewhat.’
‘It’s lucky for me that you’re here, though. I don’t suppose anyone expected a real drill. Have you trained for this?’
‘Are you asking to check my references? I promise I know what I’m doing. I’ve been a paramedic for ten years and part of the Special Operations team for five.’
‘Is your Special Operations involved in rescues like our Hazardous Area Response Teams? You said you jump out of helicopters and abseil down mountains?’
‘We don’t do that every day.’ He smiled. ‘But, yes, it’s the same as your HART teams.’
‘How did you get into that?’
‘These mountains are my back yard. I grew up less than an hour from here and spent all my spare time skiing, mountain biking, rock climbing and generally getting into trouble that I had to get myself out of. I joined the ambulance service and it was a natural progression to Special Ops for me. Did you get to work with the HART teams while you were studying medicine?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure that I’m an emergency medicine type of girl. I like to play it safe. Amy is the adventurous sister.’
‘Is she a professional ski instructor?’ He wanted to keep her talking. Wanted to make sure she stayed conscious and alert, and if she wasn’t going to listen to music then talking to him might help keep her mind off the extraction process.
‘Amy trained as a primary teacher but she hasn’t spent a lot of time teaching. She spends most of her time travelling, working around the world. She always does kids’ ski school lessons so I guess she is using her teaching degree. She’s done a bit of teaching in developing countries but I think she likes the freedom of the ski fields. This is her third winter here.’
‘But your first visit? We’re not giving you a very good impression, are we?’
‘I’ll admit it’s been a bit more dramatic than I like my holidays to be.’
* * *
They were an hour into the process when Pat’s stomach started to grumble. It was time for another break in the drilling and he hoped no one else heard the rumbling. He knew he was overdue for a break but he wasn’t going to leave Charli. She wasn’t having anything more than warmed fluids and he felt it would be unfair of him to be too comfortable. Why should he get to have a full stomach, toilet breaks and showers? He wanted to feel what Charli was feeling and keeping a level of discomfort allowed him to do that.
He wanted to stay close by, wanted to be able to talk to her. It was about more than just keeping her calm. He wanted to be the one who was there for her, wanted to be the one to talk to her in the five-minute break between drilling. Having built up rapport and trust, he didn’t want anyone else taking over. He suspected their conversation was as important to him as it was to her. Despite the circumstances, their conversation flowed easily. He couldn’t remember feeling so comfortable with someone who was a virtual stranger. The dates he’d been on in the past two years had mostly been dreadful. Awkward and difficult. But there was no awkwardness with Charli.
The situation lent itself to honesty. If she asked him a question he felt obliged to give her an honest answer. Perhaps it helped her that she couldn’t see him. Maybe it was a bit like being in a confessional box or being given the last rites. He wasn’t religious, not at all, but he thought there was probably something to be said for being able to get things off your chest, admitting to your sins and so on. Not that he was prepared to entertain the idea that Charli might not survive this. He wasn’t going to be the last person she spoke to or the last person she saw, but he could be the person she talked to at this moment in her life. He could be the one who helped her.
‘Charli, did you want me to see if there’s any mobile phone service? Maybe put a call in to your parents?’ Charli had spoken to Amy but he was sure she’d like a chance to speak to her parents. They’d managed to keep her identity from the media. Amy wasn’t speaking to the journalists but Pat knew the disastrous event was getting global coverage.
‘No, there’s no one I need to speak to.’
‘We haven’t released your name yet but, at some point your name will hit the headlines. It might be wise to give your parents a heads-up. Perhaps Amy could call them and break the news and then you could speak to them? You don’t want to speak to your mother?’
‘My mother is dead.’
Too late he remembered that Amy had told him Charli was her only family. Way to go, Pat, great choice of topic. Maybe he should let Charli ask the questions, that way he wouldn’t be hearing answers he wasn’t expecting and didn’t know how to react to.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said.
Through the search cam he could see Charli shrug her shoulders. ‘It was a long time ago,’ she said. ‘It’s been me and Amy, just the two of us, for almost as long as I can remember.’
‘Is your father alive?’
‘Yes. But I don’t need to talk to him. I don’t think he even knows where we are. He won’t miss either of us.’
Pat frowned. That seemed like an odd thing to say. Why wouldn’t he know, or care, where his daughters were? If Ella was in trouble halfway around the world, he knew he’d want to know. But he would save his questions for another time as he sensed he wasn’t going to
lighten the mood any by delving further.
‘There’s no one else?’
‘No.’
Surely she had someone? Pat didn’t understand. Everyone had somebody, didn’t they? He had his parents and a younger brother, he’d had Margie and now he had Ella. He’d never had no one.
‘Just Amy.’
Her voice was quiet but he realised as she spoke that of course she had someone. Amy was her someone. That was okay. He’d talk to her about Amy, that would keep her mind occupied while they worked to get her out.
‘So, you’re here on holiday but Amy is working here?’ He had learned that Snowgum Chalet was used as accommodation for Wombat Gully resort staff.
‘Yes. I came on a bit of a whim. She’s been telling me for years how fabulous Australia is—I’m not sure that I believe her given the situation I’m in, but anyway I needed to see her, so here I am.’
‘Why did you need to see her?’
‘I had a fight with my boyfriend.’
‘It’s a long way to come after a fight.’
‘It was a big one.’ He heard the smile in her voice and saw the corners of her mouth lift. That was better, she had a much more positive tone.
‘Big enough that you don’t want to call him? Let him know what’s happened?’
‘He’s now my ex. I don’t want to call him,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘He doesn’t deserve to know what has happened. I don’t want to talk to him, see him, have anything to do with him. That’s one thing I’m sure of after all this time in here. I’ve had plenty of time to think about what really matters to me. And he isn’t on my list.’
