“It’s Sage. She took the . . . and the dog and . . . She’s in . . . car this time.”
“What? Say it again. Sage is gone?”
“Yes.” Olivia was shouting over the static now. “She took Haylee’s car. We think they’re headed for the coast road.”
A cold drip slid down Aiden’s neck from where the rain had soaked his hair, chilling his spine.
“Where’s Haylee?”
Olivia told him which direction they believed the girl had gone and where Haylee was hoping to cut her off, if she could get there in time.
“I’m halfway there already.” Aiden hit the brakes, fishtailed and then recovered enough for a three-point turn. Thank God there was no oncoming traffic. “My car is faster. I’ll find them, Liv. Don’t worry, I’ll bring them back.”
Rain sluiced across his windshield, blurring the twin headlight beams and forcing him to go slower than he wished. White lines sped past black asphalt with hypnotic rhythm, the wipers adding a secondary line. Click, click, click. Flick-flick, flick-flick.
It had been raining just like this the night Michelle’s car had been struck.
A rotten smell filled his nostrils. The thing with teeth nudged him. He pushed aside the memories of Garret’s tiny silent body, the empty car seat, the blood on Michelle’s face.
He’d been wearing sandals and shorts that horrible night, when he’d crawled through the mud to get to the car. He could still feel the icy mud slick beneath his soles, the cut of rocks against his skin. Maybe if he’d been wearing proper shoes, he’d have gotten there faster. He wouldn’t have fallen into the puddle, he’d have seen over the spinning wheels to the little flash of red and blue lying so still in the trees beyond.
Don’t think of this.
Do not think of this.
Aiden was so focused on focusing, that when he came upon the accident site, he had to hit the brakes hard, making his own car skid and slip to a stop on the right shoulder.
His door was heavy due to the uphill slant, and nearly caught him when it slammed shut. The first vehicle, an SUV, sat sideways, the left front corner crumpled in, the windshield blown out. Not Olivia’s truck. Air left his chest in a whoosh. The fire truck was blocking his view of the opposite ditch, so he’d have to fight his way around the emergency vehicles and personnel to identify the other vehicle.
Please, God, don’t let it be Haylee or Sage.
He struggled to pull on his professional objectivity but it eluded him. The time he’d spent as a paramedic, before medical school, had given him the passion for a specialty in trauma, but he hadn’t personally been on the scene of a crash since the night they’d called him about Michelle’s accident.
Part of him wanted to drive away and continue the search for Sage. There was no need for him to stay. The first responders had the scene under control. Then he registered sound of a child wailing, thin, angry cries, joined by the grinding scream of blades cutting through metal.
He grabbed his emergency kit from the back and shouldered his way through the rain, slipping on the grassy edge. Steam rose from the still-warm engine, adding to the fog, and raindrops pinged hard.
“Dr. Mac, is that you?” A firefighter in full turnout gear waved him over.
“How can I help?”
The man pushed his waterproof hood away and swiped at his dripping face. “Over there. Take the SUV. We can’t get at the other driver yet.”
Aiden stumbled to the side of the SUV, where a female first responder was leaning into the gaping window. She looked up at Aiden’s approach.
“Dr. Mac,” she said. “Am I glad to see you.”
“Give it to me,” said Aiden.
A female driver, mid-thirties, disoriented but conscious. A four-year-old child in the backseat, apparently uninjured. The firefighter told him what they knew while Aiden did a quick, rudimentary examination of the woman and helped place the cervical collar.
Then he crawled to the backseat beside the child.
The little red face was streaked with tears and snot, his open mouth showing a full set of pearlescent baby teeth.
“Hey, kiddo,” said Aiden, assessing him as best he could under the circumstances. “You’re going to be okay. We’ve got you.”
The mother reached a hand awkwardly toward the back, unable to move her face because of the collar. “My baby,” she croaked. “Is she okay?”
“You need to stay still, ma’am,” said the firefighter.
“Cries like this are always a good sign,” said Aiden.
“No,” she said, her voice hitching. “I mean my baby. She’s six months old. She’s right behind me.”
Aiden’s stomach dropped. No. Please, no. Not again.
“Oh, God,” moaned the woman. “Where is she?”
Aiden stepped backward. One foot slipped beneath him and he nearly fell into the mud.
Not again. Not again. Not again.
A car seat, ejected into the mud, with a child inside.
He ran and slid through the mud in front of the vehicle, trying to guess where a projectile might have landed. “Out here,” he yelled, waving to a trio of firefighters working next to the truck. “Missing six-month-old. Probably still in the car seat.”
They immediately joined the search.
Everything depended on the speed of the vehicle, the weight of the child, how much resistance the seat belt provided.
And whether or not the window was already gone when the child flew through it.
The ditch was six inches deep in water, cold already with the approaching autumn. He fumbled numb hands through the slurry of leaves and grasses and sharp-edged rocks, searching for smooth molded plastic, the rich smell of gently rotting vegetation turning his stomach, listening for cries, gasps, any sign of life.
Rain and fear blinded him. He vaguely registered the sensation, again, of rocks and debris against his flesh.
The thing with teeth howled in the back of his mind and he couldn’t tell if the screams he heard were here and now, or echoes of his nightmares.
Don’t think about that.
Darkness filled the edges of his vision but he didn’t know if it was the night rain or if the thing with teeth was pulling him. He couldn’t catch his breath but was it because he was panicking, or was it because he was on his knees in the mud, searching, searching, rushing against time, every beat of his heart measuring out another moment that could spell the difference between life and death?
“Nothing here,” he heard a man call.
“Nothing here either,” came another response.
He tried to call but nothing came out. No matter. Until he found the kid, he had nothing to say.
He had to save this child. He couldn’t bear this again.
“Aiden?”
It’s too late.
The thing with teeth roared hot rancid breath in his ear now, a fury, a furnace, a freight train that would surely flatten him this time. He could not get out from under this again.
“Aiden!”
Someone shook his shoulder, hard. He struggled to clear his vision.
“Haylee?”
“Aiden,” she said with a gasp, clutching at his arm. “Thank God you’re here.”
Her face was pale in the white headlights, the blue rain slanting down over her skin, like she was underwater.
“The other driver.” Her voice broke. “I think it’s Sage.”
* * *
Haylee clung to Aiden, grateful for a moment of respite from the chaotic scene. The road was littered with vehicles. Uniformed workers rushed to and fro under the bright lights, carrying equipment and supplies, calling out for assistance, yelling questions, shouting orders, barking commands, highway patrol, firefighters, Sunset Bay sheriff’s department, paramedics and ambulance attendants and over it all fell the stinging rain. Behind the fire truck, she could see the blinking taillights of a car the same make and model as her own, nose down in the ditch.
“Is it them?” she cried. “Does anyon
e know?”
Aiden shook his head. “I’ll find out as soon as I can, okay? Stay strong, Haylee. I have to go.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead briefly and the small point of warmth disrupted the fear threatening to overtake her.
A blade screamed and whirred through metal. Aiden said something she couldn’t hear, and then he was gone.
“Aiden?” The saw stopped. A baby cried, loud and angry and a cheer went up from the workers.
Sal?
Haylee called out to an EMT. “Please! I think the driver’s my daughter. That’s my granddaughter crying. Are they okay?”
“I can’t say anything for sure,” the technician began.
A dog barked, followed by an unmistakable voice. “Be careful with my dog, you moron!”
“Sage!” Haylee surged forward but the woman held her back. “Are you okay? Is she okay?”
The technician held firm. “Sorry, hon. You’ve got to let us work.” She looked toward her colleagues, working on the other vehicle. “We’ve got bigger problems.”
Haylee craned her head for a glimpse of Sage and Sal but saw nothing but a crowd of reflective slickers. Another yell went up and something warm and heavy struck her thigh. She looked down.
“Karma!” She fell to her knees and the sound coming out of her could have been a laugh or a sob. If the dog was okay . . .
“Sorry, ma’am, she got away on me.” Another firefighter reached for the dog but Haylee intervened, gripping Karma’s collar.
“It’s okay. I’ve got her. You look after Sage and Sal.”
She took Karma to Olivia’s truck and ran her hands over her to check for any obvious injuries. Nothing. Jewel sniffed and nuzzled, unhappy at being left out of the action but pleased to have company.
“Stay here, okay, girls? I’ll be right back.”
Then she saw Aiden in the opposite ditch. She swiped her wet hair off her face and ran up to him.
“What are you doing?”
He looked up. His face was tortured. “There’s a baby missing from the other car. We have to find her.”
His voice was raw and she could see the effort it was taking him to stay calm. This was his nightmare, come to life.
Torn, Haylee looked to the other ditch, where she could hear more cursing from Sage. Sal’s lungs were working at full force, too, but the crowd of workers and equipment still precluded her from getting nearer.
“Let me get Jewel,” she told Aiden.
Jewel scrambled out of the truck as if knowing her skills were needed. Haylee hoped the dog could help. They hadn’t done a search under conditions like these in years and Jewel was an old dog now. But they had nothing to lose for trying.
She went over to the mother, still prone in the car.
“I need something with the baby’s scent on it,” she said to the sobbing woman.
“There,” said the woman.
“Stay still, ma’am,” said the attendant. “We need to start this IV.”
“The diaper bag.” The woman yanked her arm free and pointed. “On the floor.”
“Ma’am. Please.”
Haylee grabbed the bag from the front seat, and rummaged through it until she found a sweater that looked like it might fit Sal in a few months.
“This?” she said to the mother.
“Yes, yes, please, find her.” Tears mingled with blood on her face.
“Smell this, Ju-Jube?” said Haylee, holding the sweater in front of Jewel’s muzzle.
The dog sniffed and snorted with great enthusiasm. She loved kids.
“Okay then, let’s find her. Find the baby.”
She let Jewel go, no need to hamper her with a leash. The search area wasn’t large and Jewel wasn’t going to take off on her.
The dog sloshed through the wet grass, her tail waving high in the air, her head low.
“We’ve already looked there,” yelled Aiden.
“Trust us,” Haylee called back. Jewel’s sense of smell, even old as she was, was infinitely better than their ability to search by sight, especially in these conditions.
She stumbled along behind her dog, keeping one eye on Aiden, her heart in her throat. He was handling this, barely, and she could only guess at what it cost him to hold it together.
He’d worked so hard to overcome his grief and guilt. Would he survive another reminder of what he’d lost? Another time he had to witness a parent buckle under the weight of a burden he knew only too well?
Jewel’s tail waved hard, indicating the intensity of her determination. She’d picked up something, Haylee could tell. But what? That was the question.
“What is it, girl?” Jewel pushed ahead, past where the men had been searching.
She heard yells from the firefighters in the opposite ditch, then the sound of the saws starting up again, but she didn’t look. She couldn’t help here, if she divided her attention. Jewel needed reinforcement. One thing at a time.
Then the dog gave a high yip in front of a pile of brush. She braced her forelegs in the mud and barked over her shoulder at Haylee.
“There!” yelled Haylee, rushing to catch up.
Aiden and a couple of firefighters ran over, beating her to the spot. Jewel stepped back but continued to watch avidly as the men crouched over where the dog had indicated.
“Good girl,” said Haylee, breathing hard as she watched. Had Jewel found the baby? Were they in time?
The men pulled at the brush and broken tree limbs, muttering curses under their breath. Then Aiden reached down, struggling. One of the firefighters leaned down to help. A moment later, the white plastic of a car seat shone in the headlights.
“We found her!” yelled Aiden. “She’s alive!”
“Good girl,” praised Haylee. She sank down on wobbly knees and gave her dog a huge hug and a soggy cookie. “You did it, you smart, brilliant doggy, you.”
The men worked on the child on the ground, their shoulders forming a barrier that prevented Haylee from seeing what was going on.
She led Jewel back to the SUV. The ambulance had arrived while they were searching and attendants were now shifting the mother onto a backboard.
“Did you find her?” the woman cried. “Is she alive?”
“They found her,” said Haylee. “They’re working on her right now, ma’am. I’m sorry, I don’t know anything more.”
“Oh, please, God, please, God.” Tears slipped down the woman’s face as they bundled her into the ambulance van. “Are the kids coming with me? Don’t take me away from them!”
“Your son will ride with you. They’ll be right behind you with the baby, ma’am. I promise,” said the female firefighter.
“I can’t leave her,” she cried again.
But they slid her up and into the ambulance and slammed the door. Moments later, the siren sounded and the vehicle roared away from the scene.
“We’ve got another one en route, for the other driver.” The woman firefighter nodded toward the vehicle in the ditch, shoving a strand of wet hair behind her ear.
Haylee’s breath caught. “Can I . . . ?”
The woman hesitated. “Go. But stay out of the way.”
* * *
Aiden had stopped feeling the cold and the wet. He was focused on his work, nothing but coaxing the small wet bundle in front of him to rejoin the world of the living. Her skin was pale, her lips blue, but her heart was still beating and her tiny lungs still drew spasmodic breaths, encouraged by the O2 mask.
He barked instructions, drew up syringe after syringe, poked and prodded, swore, demanding that she hang on, that she come back.
They could save her. He could pull her back from the thing with teeth, fling her out of the path of the freight train, protect her from the endless dark the way he couldn’t with Garret.
This one, he could save.
“Come on, baby,” he muttered, pressing his stethoscope to her chest. “You can do it.”
He should stay objective, he knew that. It was better for
him that she remain an infant patient, a case number, a victim, a survivor, anything but a treasured child, someone’s longed-for baby. Empathy distracted him, diluted his effectiveness.
Still, he wished he knew her name.
The paramedics were immobilizing her arms on the miniature backboard when she coughed and choked. A sputtering cry followed and instantly, her cheeks pinkened.
The firefighters and paramedics all let out a whoop.
“We’ve got her,” yelled one. “Let’s get rolling.”
Aiden stepped back as the first responders did their thing, stunned into silence. They’d found her. They might very well have saved her.
He swiped at the rain falling hot and hard on his cheeks, hearing his ragged breathing. He sagged on knees of jelly, stumbled on feet no more useful than lumps of clay with toes.
They’d done it.
“Aiden!”
Haylee’s cry pierced through his triumph.
“Aiden.” She fell to her knees beside him. “Please, Aiden. You have to come.”
“We got her, Haylee.” His grin felt as wobbly as his legs. “We found her and we saved her. We did it.”
“It’s Sage,” said Haylee, ignoring him. Her face twisted and she sucked in a harsh, stuttering breath. “Something’s wrong.”
* * *
Haylee needed answers and no one was giving them to her. She pulled Aiden to his feet and dragged him to where the firefighters were cutting Sage out of her seat belt. A thick white bandage had been taped to Sage’s head and an IV bag dripped into her arm. But instead of talking and swearing, she was silent, her head bobbing, her eyes drifting and unfocused.
“Ten minutes ago, she was fine.” She aimed her voice at the paramedics. “What’s going on?”
“Let me.” Aiden squatted next to them and began asking questions. After a moment, he stood up and drew her away.
“She hit the steering wheel pretty hard and she’s probably got a couple of broken ribs. The biggest concern is internal injuries and we won’t know more until we get her to the hospital.”
“Oh, God.” Haylee doubled over.
Aiden gripped her shoulders. “Listen to me. She’s in shock but her vitals are strong. She’s stable. Her chances are excellent.”
Haylee threw her arms around him and burst into tears.
Sunset Bay Sanctuary Page 26
