Found

by Karen Kingsbury

  Jenny reached over and squeezed her knee. “Come on. We can start looking around the area, checking for victims.”

  “Maybe I c-c-can’t do it.” She felt sick and faint, unable to move, let alone begin a search for the dead bodies of her friends. “Jenny, I can’t.”

  “You can.” Jenny’s voice was calm, stronger than before as she prayed, “God . . . be with us. This is a night of terror and loss, but You are still God. Give us Your strength; we ask in Christ’s name.”

  Katy still didn’t feel strong, but her teeth stopped chattering. Jenny was right. God would meet them here, no matter what lay ahead. “All right.” She swallowed back her nausea and opened the door. “Let’s go.”

  They walked slowly toward the place where the Reeds’ house had stood. The piles of rubble were smaller than Katy would’ve figured. Entire houses were gone, but the debris amounted to little more than a few dump-truck loads.

  For over an hour, she and Jenny and Rhonda walked by flashlight, scouring the area around the Reeds’ property. Rhonda agreed to go one direction, Katy and Jenny, another. Meanwhile, firefighters worked with equipment to unbury the collapsed pieces of wall and roofing that lay over the place where the Reeds’ basement was.

  They were maybe a hundred yards away when Katy heard a faint crying sound or maybe a cooing. She looked at Jenny, and her heart began to race. “Did you hear that?”

  Jenny stopped, silent. The sound came again, and she nodded. “Sounds like a baby or maybe an animal.”

  They closed in on the noise, and there in the middle of an area wiped clean of all other debris was a wooden baby crib. And inside . . .

  “How can it be?” Jenny rushed forward. Carefully she put her hand on the baby’s forehead and arm, checking for injuries. “Katy, get help.”

  For a single instant, Katy stood planted in place, trembling. Her teeth were chattering again. “It’s impossible . . .” She shone her flashlight at the square of ground where the crib was standing. There was nothing. No house, no car, no people. Only a few scattered bricks and tree branches.

  She turned and ran as fast as she could back to the emergency crews. “Help!” she shouted.

  Two of the medics searching through debris stopped and looked up. They jogged in her direction. “Did you find something?”

  “A baby . . . alive.” Katy couldn’t talk, couldn’t catch her breath. Her heart was racing so hard that all she could do was point and start moving back toward Jenny and the infant.

  The medics used their own flashlights to look ahead. Once they spotted Jenny near the crib, they took off running toward her.

  Katy felt her lungs relax, and she drew a full breath. As she walked up, one of the medics had the baby cradled in his arm.

  He was an older guy, maybe in his fifties. He stared at Katy and shook his head, disbelief etched in every line on his face. “She’s fine. Completely unhurt.”

  All of them seemed to realize at the same time that the situation was impossible. The other medic, a young guy maybe eighteen or nineteen, pointed toward the sky. “God saved this baby. There’s no other answer.”

  The men thanked Jenny and Katy and took the infant to a waiting ambulance.

  Jenny bent over and put her hands on her knees. When she straightened, she seemed faint, her voice weak. “I think it’s just hitting me. Where’s that baby’s family?”

  Katy pointed her flashlight in a slow circle, taking in the devastation around her. “Where are all these families?”

  “And where are the Reeds?”

  Without any discussion on the matter, Jenny reached out and took Katy’s hand. There in the middle of the block—with sirens and the sounds of firefighters and paramedics searching for victims—they begged God for a miracle for the Reeds, for the tiny baby in the crib, and for every family touched by disaster tonight.

  When they were done praying, Jenny released her hands and aimed her flashlight at what used to be a line of houses.

  For a long time neither of them said anything. Katy still didn’t want to be here, in a place where they might find any imaginable horror. But at least they’d found the baby—the single sign that somehow, someday, the terrible tornadoes of this April night would be a distant memory. Life would go on—God would see to that.

  “Let’s walk the rest of the block.” Jenny sounded stronger.

  The Reeds’ neighborhood had one entrance and maybe forty houses in a small square, all of them gone. Other developments connected to theirs were still standing, though block walls and fences that had separated them were missing. Katy and Jenny walked in the middle of the road, using their flashlights, passing other people doing the same thing.

  There were no more discoveries, and after ten minutes they met Rhonda back where the Reeds’ house had stood. Katy told Rhonda about the baby, and the three of them fell silent, too amazed and terrified to speak. Firefighters and paramedics had brought in a crane to lift heavy sections of their house off the entrance to the basement.

  Katy approached a police officer standing nearby. “Why this house? How come they’re not working this fast to move debris off the other basements?”

  The man tightened his lips into a straight line and crossed his arms. “You know these people; is that right?”

  “Yes.” The officer must’ve heard from his partner that she and Jenny had been given the okay to enter the area. Katy held her breath, waiting for his answer.

  “When the tornado hit this area, we received a 911 call.” He gestured to the Reeds’ crumbled home. “It came from here. The woman was frantic, said that her house had collapsed into the basement. The whole family was trapped down there. Five of them.”

  A surge of hope rose in Katy’s heart. “So . . . so they’re okay? You’re just trying to reach them?”

  “That’s the problem . . . we’ve lost contact with them. Either their cell phone is dead or . . .”

  He didn’t finish his sentence; he didn’t have to. The truth was clear. Either their cell phone was dead or they were. The way countless other people in this neighborhood were probably also dead.

  “We’re working as fast as we can.”

  Katy nodded her thanks and returned to Jenny and Rhonda. They exchanged a look that said the other two had heard everything. There was nothing more to say. Even if there was, Katy couldn’t talk, couldn’t watch the rescue efforts. The sound of machinery and scraping metal, of debris crashing to the earth as the pile was moved one piece at a time . . . all of it made her sick. How could it have happened? God, please be with them. Don’t let them suffer down there, please.

  She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on Jenny’s shoulder. On her other side, Rhonda put an arm around her shoulders. The three of them clung to each other, too afraid to move or cry or do anything but stare at the awful scene taking place near them.

  Jenny leaned close. “Pray, Katy.”

  “I am.”

  They stayed that way for what felt like half an hour, praying, whispering, begging God that someone might find the Reeds alive.

  Katy was barely clinging to hope when she heard one of the firefighters shout, waving at the other guys to join him near the base of the pile.

  The area was lit by emergency floodlights set up by the rescue crew, so it was easy to see the man’s face. He was smiling.

  “Jenny . . .” Katy took a step forward, clutching her friend’s jacket sleeve. “Did you hear that?”

  “I did! I think it’s good news!” Rhonda advanced forward also.

  Jenny studied the man’s face. “I can’t make out what he’s saying.”

  “I know but . . .” Katy could still barely talk. “But it sounds happy, right?”

  Someone cut the engine on one of the machines, and suddenly the voices became clear. The same man was yelling for ambulance crews to move in. “They’re alive, all of them!”

  Katy collapsed to her knees and covered her face with her hands. “Dear God, thank You . . . thank You.” She was still shaking
, but now her despair was being replaced by a burst of adrenaline and hope. She could feel Jenny and Rhonda at her side, hear them whispering words of thanks also.

  The commotion twenty yards away intensified, and slowly Katy and Jenny and Rhonda stood, arms linked. Bits and pieces were still being shouted back and forth, and they picked up enough to get the important details. Everyone was conscious; a beam had protected them from the collapse of the house. No obvious major injuries.

  They were placing each member of the family into an ambulance and hurrying them off to the hospital for tests, but the sense around the rescue scene was one of sheer elation. Mission accomplished!

  The three friends couldn’t get close enough to speak to the Reeds. If they wanted to share in the moment, they’d need to meet them at the hospital. But that could wait until morning. For now, all either of them wanted to do was go home, fall into bed, and spend the rest of the night relishing in the victory at hand.

  The Reed family was found!

  Landon had never been more scared in his life.

  He stayed at Ashley’s side constantly, even while John Baxter and one of his coworkers hovered over her, trying to stabilize her blood pressure. He still wasn’t sure exactly what had caused the problem, but he’d seen the signs back in the basement. Even before the big tornado hit.

  First she was suffering from a dramatic rise in pressure. John had verified the symptoms back in his basement—her rapid pulse and breathing and the redness in her face. But as her pains had increased, her pressure dropped, and that could mean only one thing—her life was in danger. Hers and the baby’s.

  The hospital was a zoo, with victims from the tornadoes streaming in. But Ashley didn’t need the emergency room. John hurried her to labor and delivery, where things still felt chaotic but not nearly as crowded. Another doctor worked with John, and the two had her hooked up to machines and an IV in minutes.

  Ashley was unconscious by then, but Landon still held her hand, still whispered to her. “Hold on, baby . . . fight for us, okay? Fight for everything we have ahead of us.”

  He hadn’t realized he was crying until one of the nurses handed him a box of tissues. Even then his eyes never left Ashley. A million moments flashed through his mind, the mosaic that made up his memories of Ashley Baxter. When they had graduated from high school and he’d tried everything to tell her his feelings, even making it clear that he’d wait for her to come home from Paris. Later the realization that she was home again, but she’d come back pregnant—and the heartbreak he’d felt when she wouldn’t return his calls.

  He’d finally run into her at the coffeehouse near the university, the place where they would see each other every few months after that. He was so struck by seeing her that he stumbled over his words. But that wasn’t what stayed with him.

  It was the wall, the fortress she’d built around her heart. The thing was so massive, so impenetrable. A smart guy would’ve seen a girl like Ashley Baxter, seen the walls, and run the opposite direction. What point was there pursuing someone who didn’t want to be chased?

  Still, with each chance coffeehouse meeting, Landon felt his attraction to her grow. He spent more time talking to God about her than talking to her, and eventually they struck up a friendship. But not until he was nearly killed in a house fire in Bloomington did he hear her words of love for the first time.

  He had been in a coma, his lungs severely damaged, but her words rang out clear: “I love you, Landon. I’ve always loved you.” After that, there was no denying that something had grown between them. Of course, with Ashley not one step of it was easy. There was his stint in New York City and her health scare. But throughout the journey, Landon had always known one thing.

  There would never be any other woman for him.

  He was alone in the room with her now. Her contractions were still steady, but they’d eased off with the medication she’d been given.

  John had explained the situation to Landon as honestly as possible. “We want her to regain consciousness before she delivers. Otherwise . . . there’ll be concern about a lack of oxygen—both to Ashley and the baby.”

  Landon couldn’t understand how things had gotten so terrible. He’d been with her every step of the way. So how had she suffered a lack of oxygen? The only time it could’ve happened was in those minutes after they’d reached the hospital. She had been groggy, but by the time they put her on the stretcher, she’d fallen unconscious.

  They’d rushed her to labor and delivery as fast as possible, right? How could she have had a lapse of breathing during that time?

  Landon ran his fingers lightly along her arm, the way he often did. “Don’t give up, Ash. . . . God has so much more for us, for our kids.” He rested his head on her hand. “You can’t leave me.”

  And that’s when he heard it.

  The slightest moan came from her throat.

  He was on his feet immediately, searching her face and watching the machines. He wanted to find her father or one of the other doctors, but he couldn’t leave her. “Ashley . . .” He brought his face low, close to hers. “I’m here. Wake up.”

  She moaned again and moved her head a few inches to either side. “I . . .”

  This time Landon felt his tears. “Ash, it’s okay. You need to wake up so you can have this baby.”

  Her response wasn’t in words or open eyes. Instead she squeezed his hand, squeezed it with all the strength she could’ve possibly possessed in that moment. Then she worked her mouth, clearly trying to speak.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Ash.”

  John Baxter walked in then. “How is—?” He stopped short, studying the monitor. “She’s coming out of it!” He hurried to the other side of the bed and leaned close. “Ashley, it’s Dad. Wake up, honey. We need you to wake up.”

  Slowly, as if the movement took more effort than running a marathon, Ashley began to move her eyes, and finally she opened them just enough to see them. The beginning of a smile played on her lips, and she worked her mouth again. “Is . . . everything okay?”

  Landon kissed her forehead, his tears falling onto her face. “It is now, baby. It is now.”

  Her father took over, and with his eyes he told Landon that Ashley wasn’t out of danger yet. Her blood pressure was still dangerously low, and they were giving her all the medication they could without harming the baby. John mouthed the words keep praying to Landon.

  Landon nodded and turned his attention back to Ashley. He kissed her forehead. “Stay awake, honey. We need you to be awake.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were heavy. “I’m . . . trying.”

  John gave orders to the crew of staff who had entered. They began working around the room and preparing Ashley for the delivery. For a moment John studied his daughter.

  Landon had never seen him look so desperate. “Stay with us, Ash. Come on,” he pleaded.

  As Landon remained by Ashley’s bedside, the medical staff moved quickly, talking in a language Landon understood but couldn’t focus on. All he could see or think about was Ashley. Please, God . . . let her get through the delivery. Please . . .

  “Come on, people.” John was back at the center of the action. “We need to get that baby delivered.”

  Landon released her hand. He turned away, walked to the wall, and let his forehead rest against the cool plaster. God, You gave her to me. The way You’ve always given her to me. I can’t believe this is how it’s all going to end, Father. Please . . . I’m begging You. Give her back to me one more time. Please.

  At that exact moment, a technician said the words that sliced through Landon like a knife. “Hurry. We’re losing pressure fast.”

  Ashley had no idea how long she’d been asleep, but now that she was awake things were happening fast. Her father was nearby and Landon too. She heard her father say something about a C-section and getting the baby out as quickly as possible, but then his voice mixed with Landon’s.

  “Let’s not take any chances. If a C-secti
on’s smarter, let’s do it.”

  Before she could make sense of what was going on, she was being wheeled into a small room with bright lights. Someone placed a mask over her face and told her to breathe normally. Only then did it dawn on her what was taking place.

  She had survived! Someone was saying something about dropping pressures, about a danger of something Ashley couldn’t quite make out. But none of that mattered. She was here, and she was having her baby.

  But something wasn’t right. Once more she could feel herself slipping away, feel the life being sucked from her. God, I know You can hear me! Please, God . . . The words no longer formed, but she knew what she was praying for. Another chance, more time with Landon and Cole and this new baby. A miracle.

  Then, slowly, her vision cleared. The voices around her grew gradually clear again, and she could hear Landon standing over her.

  “It’s okay, Ashley . . . your blood pressure’s coming back. God’s working everything out.”

  Tears burned her eyes and slid down the sides of her face. She couldn’t talk, not with the mask on, and she couldn’t put her arms around Landon the way she wanted to. But that was okay. If Landon said she was making a recovery, then she was. Thank You, God . . . thank You so much.

  She blinked slowly, and over the next minute the staff in the room became clear. But this time Landon was gone. She shifted her gaze, and there was her father, looking down at her.

  “Dad . . . where’s Landon?” Her words got trapped in her mask and sounded like a garbled moaning.

  Her dad leaned closer, wanting to understand.

  An idea hit her. She lifted her left hand and pointed to her wedding ring.

  Her father grinned. “Landon? He’s talking to Cole. Erin’s cell phone works, so he has a way to tell everyone back home that you’re okay.” Her father gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll get him.” He held up a finger, then hurried off. Less than a minute later he returned.

  Landon was with him. He took her hand. “Sorry, baby . . . I’m here. I won’t go anywhere.”