by Fiona Lowe
“I didn’t realize that resources were stretched so thin here.”
“Well, doctors don’t really want the small-town life so much these days. So you have to make do. We’re pretty good at it.”
That was not what he wanted to hear. Until he and Jess decided what to do with the hospital, its operation was their responsibility, and no way in hell did he want it staffed inadequately. For sure, it was an issue to address with Rick in the very near future. But in the meantime he was just another of the doctors in the field. A fact he became acutely aware of as he got closer to the accident scene, close enough to see the need but also close enough to be stopped by the firefighters.
There was a crush of mangled metal ahead of him. Somewhere in that carnage, there were also injured children. He thought about Molly for a moment as he made his way forward, trying to push past what had turned into a wall of firefighters.
“Sorry, sir. You can’t go any farther,” one of them yelled at him.
He did stop, did try to obey the order. But when he saw the first injured and bloodied child being pulled from the van, and when he saw that child’s parents rush forward, crying and frantic to get to their little boy yet being pushed back like everybody else, that was when the coldest chill he’d ever felt in his life hit him. No, Molly wasn’t one of the children involved in this mess, for which he was incredibly grateful, but the utter dread of having your child involved in something like this and not knowing … that was the cold chill he felt. The one that told him, in this instance, he knew exactly what it felt like to be a father.
“We’ve got everybody out of the van now except one child, a little girl, and the firefighters aren’t going to let us in until they have it better secured,” Rick called to Rafe from across the commotion of several dozen people doing several dozen different things. Lights were being set up, boundaries being laid out to keep the growing crowd under control. Various medics and rescuers were working with patients in all sorts of different conditions. People were taking pictures, others were videotaping. A helicopter overhead was shining a spotlight down. Attempts were under way to get down a cliff to the car perched on a ledge below. The passengers inside were phoning that they were OK, but the frenetic effort to rescue them was still under way, and the growing concern that the car could easily topple on down sobered the thoughts of everybody on the scene.
All Rafe wanted to do was shove everybody back so he could go get that little girl who was still trapped in the van. But on his second and third attempt to get through, he was still being pushed back by the firefighters. “Look, Doc, I know you want to get at that child as much as we do, but right now we can’t do it. Site’s not stable enough yet, and you don’t have any rescue experience, do you?”
Rafe swallowed hard. He’d criticized Jess for giving up medicine to become a firefighter. Criticized him more than once. But now he wished to God he had his brother’s rescue experience. “Do you know anything about her condition?”
The firefighter shook his head. “Other than she’s not conscious, and she’s trapped … her arm, I’ve been told. Sorry I don’t have anything else for you. But as soon as we think it’s safe …”
Not the words he wanted to hear. Not the image he wanted in his mind, because he was thinking about Molly, seeing her as the child trapped inside, wondering what the trapped child’s parents were doing, thinking, feeling right now.
Damn, he wished Jess was here. No way in hell his would brother have stood here, waiting, wondering. Jess was about action. Sometimes it was action Rafe didn’t like. But that was who Jess was now, and Jess would have been down on his belly, crawling to get in there, no matter what anybody said. Of that, he had no doubt.
On impulse, he phoned his brother. “OK, so I know there’s nothing you can do from where you are, but talk me through it. I’m going in, don’t give a damn what they’re telling me to do or not do. I can’t stand here and wait while that kid might be dying, so I need some common sense shouting at me before I do it.”
“Are you sure?” Jess asked. “Considering everything, are you sure you’re the one who should be going in there? I mean, none of that has changed about you, has it?”
Rafe drew in a ragged breath. “No, none of that has changed. I’m still claustrophobic as hell and I expect that once I get inside that van I’m going to experience claustrophobia in a way it’s never been experienced before. But somebody’s got to get that kid out of there, Jess.”
“Then my best advice to you is to get someone else, big brother, because if you get in there and panic …”
“No one else, Jess. It’s just me.” Because he wasn’t going to be stopped by the things that could happen, when the thing that had happened wasn’t being attended to as fast as he wanted it to be. So, maybe he was impatient. Maybe he was totally wrong. But if that was Molly in there, he’d be ripping through chunks of steel with his bare hands to get at her no matter what anybody else was telling him to do. For somebody else’s little girl he could do no less. “And I’m going in, so give me the condensed version of how to do this, or I’m going to have to figure it out on my own.”
“Damn it, Rafe.” Jess heaved out an impatient, audible sigh. “I hate heroes.”
“No, you don’t,” Rafe said softly. The love of Jess’s life—she had been a heroine. And Jess, himself, was a hero. “And I’m not going to do anything you don’t tell me to do. So, are you with me?”
“You have to tell me everything,” Jess warned. “And if you feel a panic attack coming on …”
His brother referred to all those times when their old man had locked him in a closet. It had been the one underneath the front stairs. No room to stand, no room to stretch out. Basically, a cubbyhole with a padlocked door on the outside. He’d crouched in there, his muscles aching and cramping, scared to death of the dark and the creepy, crawly things he imagined in the dark, crying quietly, while his brother sat outside, talking to him, reassuring him that he wasn’t alone. It had happened so many times Rafe had lost count, and the result was a bad case of claustrophobia. Jess knew, and Rafe appreciated his brother’s concern. But he was going in anyway.
“And you don’t know what to expect?” Jess asked, breaking Rafe away from his childhood flashbacks.
“Arm’s trapped. She’s unconscious.”
“Can you do a field amputation in there, if you have to?”
He could, but he didn’t want to think about it. “Yeah, if I have to. But it’s the last option. So just get me in there so I can see what needs to be done. OK? I’ll deal with everything else once I get to the girl.”
“Fine. Have they popped out all the glass yet?” Jess asked.
“As far as I can tell, yes.”
“Good, then click me off some pictures on your phone so I can see it.”
“Don’t have time,” Rafe growled.
“Take the time anyway, Rafe. You’re not going in blind, and if you think you are, I’m going to hang up on you right now and call the fire department and ask them to put you in restraints.”
Rafe actually chuckled. He knew his brother, and that was exactly what Jess would do. “Fine, some pictures coming at you.” From a distance, he clicked shots of the three sides he could see then sent them on to his brother. It only took a minute for Jess to assess the situation and respond.
“Disclaimer first. You should be leaving this to the professionals. But that van’s positioned to go over if you’re not careful, Rafe.”
“They can’t let it go over because there’s another car down on the ledge below it. People trapped.”
“OK, then they’re going to have to take it apart piece by piece.”
“With the kid inside?” Rafe asked.
“No. The kid’s got to come out, one way or another. And, Rafe, they’re not going to wait too long on this since they have survivors down below.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning huge chance of field amputation. Get yourself ready for it if you do get in.” “You
mean when I get in.” Jess laughed. “Cut from the same cloth, brother.”
“I guess we are.” And there were apologies to be made to Jess. But later. “So, tell me how to get in.”
“Windshield. Whatever you do, keep to the left. Passenger’s side. If you go to the right, the van’s going to shift, and the integrity of some of the anchor ropes could be compromised. From what I see, the van looks stable enough right now, but when you add your weight and motion … anyway, stick to the passenger’s side and you should be OK for this first part. Oh, and, Rafe, if you do anything dumb, like get yourself killed, just remember that the first person you’re going to meet up with in heaven’s probably going to be Aunt Grace, and she’s not going to like seeing you there.”
“Trust me, I have no intention of having a face to face with Aunt Grace today.”
“You’re not going in, are you?” Edie exclaimed.
“You’ve been eavesdropping?”
“Enough to know that you’re joking about getting yourself killed.”
“Nobody’s getting killed. But I am going in.” He held up his phone. “I’ve got good instruction. Jess is going to be with me.”
“And you’re not a firefighter, Rafe! They’re still telling us to wait.”
“But I’ve got a patient inside who can’t wait.” He held the phone back up to his ear. “Look, you’ll hang on, won’t you?”
“Not going anywhere,” Jess said.
“Rafe,” Edie cut in, “we’ve got plenty of injuries for you to deal with over there.” She pointed to the triage area, where the accident victims were being staged according to the degree of their injuries. “Rick asked me to tell you they need your help.”
He looked, saw the medical flurry. “Tell Rick I’m working on another patient right now, that I’ll be over there as soon as I can.”
“You tell him,” Edie snapped, pulling a helmet on.
“What are you doing?” Rafe asked.
“Going in with you to get April. That’s her name, by the way.”
“No way in hell!”
Edie looked up at him, stared him straight in the eye, then spun around and marched straight to the van, forcibly shoving back the firefighter who tried to grab hold of her. Once there, she turned and waited for Rafe.
“You’re not doing this, Edie!” he shouted, catching up to her and trying to wave off two firefighters coming his way.
“And you’re not stopping me.”
“I am,” one of the firefighters said, stepping in front of Rafe. The name on his jacket identified him as Chief Will Brassard. “I’m stopping both of you.”
“No, you’re not,” Rafe said patiently. “I’ve got a child trapped in there who could die, and you’re not going to let that happen to her, are you? If you let me go in, it’s not your responsibility—if you do, it is. Simple choice, in my opinion, Chief.” He held up the phone. “You know my brother Jess? He’s going in with me.”
“You’re as persuasive as your aunt was,” Brassard said, stepping back.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Rafe rushed round the man to get to Edie’s side.
“Or a curse,” Brassard muttered. “Here’s the deal. If we cut through the metal, it’s going to take a while, and it may undo what we’ve done to stabilize the van. Also, because the kid’s head is positioned so that cutting around her is going to be a risk, that’s pretty much the last thing we want to do. That, plus the fact that she’s coming to, and I’m not sure she’s going to hold still for what we’d have to do. One of my men tried getting her out, but she was lodged in there tight. There’s not much room to do anything.” “Did he see bleeding?”
“Some. Not excessive. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and he was afraid to start probing and risk more complications.”
Tamponade, where blood flow was stopped by a constriction created by an outside force. It was the first thing that came to Rafe’s mind, and something he couldn’t shake off as he prepared to go in. A tamponade could be a lifesaver but, if dislodged, could be a killer. Somehow, in such a serious situation, with a lack of blood.
“Look, Corbett, you’re aware how dangerous this is. And I don’t like the fact that you’re not experienced in field rescue. But we may not have too much time left for this kid if we don’t get something done fast, and if we need a field amputation—”
“Last option,” Rafe interrupted.
“Or first, depending on what happens. Which is why I’d rather put a doctor in there on that than one of my firefighters. We’re going to keep trying to get at her from out here, but in the worst-case scenario, we have an emergency … you’re going to have to take her arm and get her the hell out of there fast. No time to argue with us. You’ll just have to do it. Understood?”
Rafe nodded.
“Good. I’ll give you your shot at this, but if you can’t make it work, we’re going to have to take that van apart piece by piece so it doesn’t fall down on that car below here. Those people trapped down there are at risk, too. Meaning five minutes in and you amputate if you don’t have another solution. So you’ve got your timeline. Five minutes, then we’re pulling everybody out. And at that point, if the kid is still stuck, I’m putting one of my medics in to take her arm if you haven’t already done it. So it’s going to be your rescue, Doc. And also your choice.” He tossed his helmet over to Rafe.
Five minutes. He was already feeling sweat drip down his back. Five minutes wasn’t a lot of time to wait, but those five minutes could be precious to that child trapped in there. Especially as more than five minutes had already ticked off the clock since he’d been here, and at least thirty minutes beyond that. “I’m going in,” he said to Edie.
“And I’m right behind you,” she replied, then thrust out her hand to stop him from arguing with her. “You’re not stopping me, Rafe. If April wakes up …”
Edie was good at what she did. Brilliant, actually. But putting her into this kind of situation? “You’ll do what I tell you,” he warned her. “Your job … your only job … will be to keep her calm, and if she’s not conscious, I want you out of there. Do you understand? You can’t get in the way because I may have to …” He paused, swallowed hard. “May have to amputate her arm. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I understand,” she said. “And I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
“Then let’s do it.” He held his phone back to his ear. “I’m going in. I’ll keep this line open, but if something happens …” He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t even wait to hear his brother’s response. Instead, he got down on his belly and wormed his way through the broken-out windshield.
“What can you see?” Edie asked, wedged in tight against Rafe’s back.
“First thing I can see is that there’s no way in hell I’m going to fit in here. Second thing I can see is that her arm is pinned in tight, and it’s basically caught up in the mechanism of the seat that was in front of her. I don’t see any blood so I want to get a blood-pressure reading, but I can’t move.” The forces of his own private hell were beginning to close in around him already. He was basically on the interior roof of the car, lying on his side, wedged in between two dislodged seats where there was barely enough room for his large frame to fit. Maneuvering in this tight space was nearly impossible. Catching his breath in the tightness closing in on his chest was nearly impossible as well. “Can you take a BP reading? I think we’re going to have to trade places so you can do it, as there’s no maneuvering room in here for a man my size.”
Edie drew in a sharp breath, heard Rafe do the same. “Sure, I can do that,” she said, already backing away so Rafe could scoot himself out and let her go in first.
“April,” Edie said, on her way out. “Can you hear me?”
The child murmured a faint “Uh-huh.”
“We’re here to get you out, so don’t be afraid.” As she brushed by Rafe, she whispered, “Talk to her. Reassure her. The words don’t matter as much as the fact that
she’s not alone here.”
“How is it in there?” Rick called from outside.
“Tight,” Edie yelled. “Her arm seems caught almost all the way to her shoulder, but it’s hard to tell, and she’s trapped at a difficult angle. Rafe’s too large for the space.” She glanced back in, aimed her flashlight into the interior dark space and saw Rafe talking to the child as he slid himself out.
“Well, once you get back in there, maybe you could.” Rick held out the blood-pressure cuff she needed, as well as an old teddy bear. “It used to be Christopher’s.”
“I think she’ll be glad to have it,” Edie said, dropping back to her knees, waiting for Rafe to make his exit.
“I’ll be right back, April,” Rafe reassured the child in a voice so tender it nearly broke Edie’s heart. Somehow she had to make Rafe understand what an amazing father he’d make for Molly. She could see it so clearly. She thought Molly probably could, too. Rafe was the only one denying it, and she didn’t know why. It bothered her, though, because where there could be so much happiness, Rafe was bound to a path that seemed like such a waste.
“Four minutes,” Brassard stepped in and warned.
Rafe nodded, but didn’t acknowledge him in any other way. “She’s brave,” he said to Edie, “but we’re going to have to get her out of there pretty soon because I don’t know what else is going on with her, and she’s been pinned too long. Have you ever taken a blood pressure in somebody’s leg before?”
Fear, icy cold and blinding, hit her. “No, but I can do it. Um … Rafe? Since you can’t get in there, you won’t expect me to … to amputate, will you? If that’s what it comes down to, I won’t have to be the one …?”
“It’s not going to get to that,” Rafe said. “I promise, Edie. We’re going to find another way to get her out of there.”
Reassuring words that didn’t reassure her as much as she would have liked because her hands started to tremble and she couldn’t stop them. “Rafe, I … I’ll do what I have to do. But I’m not sure …”
