by S. M. Butler
“Here comes the next one!” Ant’s voice boomed from inside.
The Search and Rescue team scrambled to extract the next survivor, while Luke struggled to keep himself from knocking everyone out of the way and plowing head first into the hole to find Ysabeau.
It was brutal not know who was coming out next. Five men were pulled one by one out of the hole, like some messed-up birthing process. Luke paced as if he was an expectant father. When the single dead body was brought out and it wasn’t Ysabeau, Luke was both elated and crushed.
Where was she?
“Great start! Bring the dogs back. Let’s find more survivors!” S. Mitchell commanded. The rescuers were energized and the efforts were doubled.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Ant trotted over to Luke. “Pulling out survivors never gets old.” He wiped the dusty sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. “You okay, man?”
Luke opened his mouth and closed it again. The world tipped, he struggled to not tip with it. He wasn’t okay.
“Dude, you look like you’re going to pass out or hurl.” Ant dragged him several feet away from the rescue scene to what used to be a low wall. “Sit. Put your head between your knees.”
As he sat, he noticed for the first time that it was getting dark. “My God, how long have we been at this?”
“The answer is forever and not long enough. Time passes strangely in this biz. The flood lights keep the scene lit up, so it is hard to remember you are working through the night. Feeling better?”
“Yeah. Let’s go back.” Luke started to stand but his knees buckled.
“Easy.” Ant caught him by the arm. “When did you eat last?”
The kid-cop had given him a plantain in the squad car. Before that? He couldn’t remember food before that. “I don’t need to eat.”
“Like hell you don’t. If you faint and crack open that thick skull of yours, the Commander will chew my hide. Let’s go.” Ant held onto his elbow and dragged him away.
“Where?”
“The Command Center. It’s a tent set up with supplies, food, water, chairs, cots…You’ll see.”
As they walked, Luke realized he’d been so focused on the lobby and the rescues there that he hadn’t noticed what was going on elsewhere. The Montana Hotel was crawling with people and dogs. Luke breathed a sigh of relief.
“Far cry from last night when I was doing this pretty much alone. How many teams are here?”
“Eight. I think. From all over the world.”
“Nice.”
Luke was amazed by the changes that had occurred in the last twelve hours. Someone had used black spray paint to draw the numbers one through five on the balconies. It took Luke a second to comprehend that the numbers demarked the various floors. His heart hurt when he saw how close those floors were to one another. If Ysabeau had gone up to floor five, where his room was… No one would be alive in there.
He turned his head away.
“Look up there.” Ant pointed to the part of the building that reminded Luke of a great windowless dome.
Ropes had been attached and two rescuers had rappelled to the top. Camera crews were working down below. Luke heard many languages spoken at once. The Montana Hotel disaster was big news. He wished they’d all be reporting on the rescue of one Haitian woman. And one relieved American man.
They came to the makeshift tent Ant had called the Command Center. There were a tables and cots inside. A few men were looking at a map at the back of the tent. Ant went to the “kitchen” and snatched a premade peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Okay, Luke. Eat, drink lots of water and rest a while. Ten minutes, at least.”
“But—”
“Argue with me, Luke, and I’m changing your name back to A’s Ass! You have my orders. Eat and rest.”
Luke sat at a plastic table and took a giant bite of the sandwich. He’d eat, but he wouldn’t hang around this tent for ten minutes. Not when every second counted.
“Good boy,” Ant said with a smile.
When he finished chewing he spoke the words that had been swirling around in his mind. The words he’d been afraid to ask. “Did you see her, Ant? In the rubble? Did you see Ysabeau?”
Ant’s face fell. “No, man. I didn’t.”
Luke swallowed hard. “Hear her calling? Tapping? Any sounds?”
“No.” He handed Luke a water bottle. “Remember what I said about the pockets? She could be under something that muffles her voice. Plus, someone is talking to the survivors we just pulled out. We’ll find out if they heard anything. And don’t forget about the dogs. Their noses are far better than our ears.”
Luke’s shoulders rose and fell. So exhausted.
“I’m going back out. Eat an apple too. I think there might be orange juice in the fridge. See you in ten, or twenty.” Ant took three strides out of the tent then turned. “You’re the best rookie I’ve ever seen, including myself. Your lady will be proud.”
And then he was gone.
Luke ate the PB&J with trembling fingers. He couldn’t stop thinking about the poor dead man who was pulled out of the wreckage. His mind kept trying to put Ysabeau’s sweet face on the dead man’s broken body. Her beautiful angelic face.
He put his head down on his arms and wept.
*
When his iPhone rang he nearly jumped out of his skin. His hand went to his wet cheek. Not tears, he’d been drooling.
What the hell? How long have I been asleep?
He pushed up his sleeve and checked his watch. Two hours! Holy crap, how had he slept for that long! Ysabeau had been trapped for close to sixty hours.
He scrambled to get himself together. The phone rang again. Maybe Ant was calling to tell him they’d found Ysabeau!
“Daddy?”
“Sweetheart, I’m here,” Luke said, his voice groggy.
“I’ve been so worried. It’s early here, really early, but I couldn’t sleep. Danny couldn’t either. We’ve been scanning the Internet for news. It’s so horrible.”
Luke massaged his temples. “Yes, baby, it is.”
“I want you to come home.”
He exhaled deeply. “Me too, but I can’t yet. I’m helping the Search and Rescue team.”
“Oh, Daddy. You haven’t found her yet?” The sadness in her voice tore him apart. “What can I do?”
“Nothing, Sweetheart. Just…I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.” She kissed her cell phone. “That’s for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep it.”
She kissed it again. “And that’s one for you to give Ysabeau when you see her.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” he barely managed.
“Oh! I thought of something else! I can go on Facebook and ask around. Twitter too. Maybe someone has seen Ysabeau. I’ll text you back, if I hear anything.”
He doubted any of that would do any good but it was nice that she was helping. “That’s great. I’d better go, okay? Tell Danny I owe him a big one.”
“Oh, wait. He’s here and wants to talk to you. Love ya.”
“No wait, I don’t have time to—”
“Bro! What a mess I’ve gotten you into. It’s my fault you are stuck in Haiti at the moment of the worst earthquake of the world,” Danny said.
He was already walking toward the rescue site. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”
“Thanks, I needed more guilt.”
“I owe you. Without you, I wouldn’t have met her. I wouldn’t have…” he choked up, unable to finish the sentence.
“Ah, hell, Carter. You fell in love, didn’t you?” Danny said quietly.
“Flat on my ass.”
“All right! This is working out as if I planned it. Well, except the quake part. That seriously sucks.”
He stepped around a mattress that had once been inside the hotel and was now in pieces. “You have no idea.”
“There’s some good news. Your investors have been calling. Everyone wants to know
what they can do to help in Haiti. It sounds like big money to me, Luke. I mean big! The Guardians are going to like that, right?”
He scrubbed his face. The clinic was destroyed. He doubted Ysabeau had any of the serum left to save her patients. Not even Talitha. But she had extensive files that maybe they’d find in the wreckage and if his investors pitched in enough money… “Yes. The Guardians will be pleased. And Ysabeau will have the money she needs. I’ll see to that.”
“Good. I’m making arrangements to get you out of there. The word is that the airport is a mess and the roads are pretty screwed up too. I’m working on getting you a helicopter. We’ll lift you out, if we need to,” Danny said.
A helicopter? Since when did Danny have the means to swing that?
“I can’t leave. Not until I find her.”
“Oh. I didn’t know…sorry, bro. Anything I can do?”
“Pray, Dan-man. Please, pray that they get her out alive.”
*
“How’s she doing, Deo?” Gran’s voice was nasally, due in mostly to the poundage of cotton stuck up her nostrils. They were in a makeshift hospital in the parking lot of what used to be the Post Office. The walk-up counter outside the building where Grann usually put stamps on her postcards was being used to store medicines and bandages. The world had gone crazy.
“I can’t get used to how funny you sound, like you’ve got somethin’ stuck in your nose,” Deo laughed.
Grann would have smacked her, but it was hard to be mad at someone with IV fluids dripping into their veins. The doctors said it had been close. Deolina was extremely dehydrated and her blood pressure was dangerously high. She’d been nose-to-nose with the hairy wolf himself and snatched her life back from his slobbery teeth. Thanks to Luke.
Sitting on the edge of Deo’s cot, she tried to give her the evil eye with what were now Gran’s two black eyes. “Focus, woman! How is Ysabeau doing? Have they gotten her out yet?”
“I can’t see nothin’ but blackness. Either she’s asleep, inside a dark space, or…” She chewed her split lip. “She’s probably asleep.”
Grann ran her fingers over the beads of her Rosary. She was sick with worry. “It is dark outside, Deo. Have you thought that maybe she’s on her way to find us?”
“How’s she gonna find us at the Post Office? You think she’d comin’ here to mail a package?”
Grann rolled her eyes up to the tent’s ceiling and blew out a deep breath. At moments like these she wished she could still hate Deolina. It was impossible. She couldn’t stir up enough anger to shoot at Deolina anymore. The quake had ripped all that bitterness from her heart and shoved warmth inside. Shaking her head she realized that she was stuck with a black magic priestess, for better, or worse.
“I’ve seen him, though.”
“Luke?” Grann asked. “Is he all right?”
“He looks pretty bad, even worse than when he put his lips all over me. Like Tico beat him up again. But, I think he’s okay. He’s looking for her.”
“Keep trying to see her, Deo. I’ve got to know,” Grann said.
“I will. I’ve got to rest my mojo for a bit. I’m not as young as I once was. Hey, did I ever thank you for savin’ my butt back there?”
“No need. You’d have done it for me.”
Deo cranked her head to look behind her and snorted. “What butt? You’ve got some flesh back there I can’t see?”
Grann tried to glare, but it hurt her eyes too much to scrunch them up.
“I’m just kiddin’.” Deolina flashed her famous wide grin. “You know, I couldn’t have done what you did. But yeah, I’d have done all in my power. You’re my sista.” She reached her hand out and Grann took it. “And we’ve still got some work to do. Help me find her, call her out of her sleep. You and me.”
Grann smiled.
In a makeshift hospital in parking lot of the Post Office, Grann and Deolina called the winds.
*
Luke trotted back to his working spot, hoping that Ysabeau was waiting for him. He could imagine her devastating smile when she saw him coming around the corner. If his dreams became reality, he’d kiss her and never stop.
A gust of wind came out of nowhere and rattled the helmet on his head. He’d forgotten to fasten the strap. He stopped to secure the helmet to his head and turned on the light.
“I’m back,” he said to the rescue team.
Someone grunted at him. They were all busy.
“Anyone else come out of the hole?” Luke asked the nearest guy.
The man shook his head. “Not yet.”
Luke couldn’t fight his anguish. She was still under that mess.
He went to the low wall where Ant had forced him to put his head between his legs. It was darker over here away from the flood lights. Carefully, he ran his hand over the cracked wall, trying to find his sledgehammer. When he touched the wooden handle, he picked it up and turned to face the search site. It was then that he noticed the dogs.
Two German Shepherds, a yellow Lab, and a beagle were circling back and forth through the devastation. He could tell by the way they moved that they hadn’t picked up a human’s scent. They hadn’t found Ysabeau.
What if they never did?
He sat back on the wall, his will to go on draining from him. His body was weak, tired, and screaming at him to give up. He didn’t know if he could do this anymore. Another gust of wind came up from behind him. It felt like it was pushing him from behind, trying to lift him to his feet. For some reason, it made him think of Grann and Deolina.
I’ve lost my mind.
The wind pushed him again, harder this time, nearly knocking him off the wall.
“All right! I’m going.”
His gaze went back to the dogs. The big ones, the Shepherds and the Lab, were still aimlessly searching, but the beagle…
“The beagle’s found something!” Luke yelled to the crew. “Over here!” And to the wind he whispered, “Thanks.”
The handlers brought the other three dogs over to the beagle. The bigger dogs circled around, curious, but not excited.
One of the handlers said, “I don’t know. The beagle is on full alert. The others haven’t picked up any rafts.”
“Give it a rest for a while and try again,” S. Mitchell said.
“No! Keep it up, right there. I saw what happened. The wind must have stirred up the scent,” Luke said.
S. Mitchell looked at him. “What wind?”
Luke glanced around. The air was oppressive and still. “A gust. Didn’t you feel it?”
S. Mitchell spoke to the handler. “Mark the spot. Give the dogs a rest, and then start back there.”
“Hey, Luke! Welcome back, come over here, buddy,” Ant called.
Luke frowned. No one else felt the wind?
“How are you feeling?” Ant asked while pouring over Luke’s face.
“I’m not going to pass out or hurl.”
“That’s cool.” He leaned in closer. “I had someone talk to the men we just rescued. Turns out one guy thought he heard a woman crying several hours ago.”
Luke grabbed Ant by the front of his suit. “What else?”
“Listen, Luke. Don’t get your hopes up. Sound is strange under buildings. One guy who’d been injured and completely freaked out thought he heard something. The rest didn’t. It might have been the building creaking, or the echoes of our equipment. I thought you ought to know.”
He released him. “She was crying several hours ago?”
Ant nodded, his face telegraphing what Luke’s feared. “So he said. He didn’t hear anything after that.”
Luke swallowed.
“You ready to jump back in there?”
“Yeah.” The sledgehammer wobbled in his hand. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
‡
Sixty-two hours after…
Ysabeau was dying.
The Vicodin was gone. Her food was gone. Strangely, the pain was gone too. She knew
this was a terrible sign. Her trapped leg had gone numb. She’d seen patients with rotting, gangrenous limbs. Amputation was the only way to save their lives. She wished she had that option here. It was going to be a slow horrible death. In the end, the beautiful four-star Montana would be her coffin.
“Ysabeau. Don’t give up hope!” a voice said.
Marisol? No, she’d stopped talking hours ago. Marisol was dead, or she never existed. In lucid moments, Ysabeau suspected she invented Marisol to keep from dying alone. Ysabeau closed her eyes and wished she’d taken the Vicodin in one lethal dose. It would have been easier to go to sleep and never wake up than the scary future that faced her.
“Can you hear me? You must fight. For Luke, for Sunny!” Marisol cried, whether it was in her own head or for real, Ysabeau gave up wondering. Nothing mattered any more. Wait…
“Sunny?” Ysabeau whispered. Had she told Marisol about Sunny? Her thoughts were as splintered as shattered glass.
“That little girl needs you. Hang on.”
“Marisol?” she coughed. Her mouth was so dry. “Where…did…you go?”
“God gave me a little longer to stay with you.”
Ysabeau forced her mouth to form the words. “Don’t. You shouldn’t…say things like that. We’re going to be rescued.”
“You. They’ll rescue you. Do not give up.”
“You’re badly injured.” Ysabeau choked out.
Marisol sighed. “You already know, don’t you?”
“How…bad?” Ysabeau steeled herself for the answer.
“I’m already dead, my friend,” Marisol said softly. “Give up any hope of saving me. Concentrate on living. You have to make it out of here.”
“No! The doctors…”
“Cannot help me.”
Ysabeau cried softly. They were both going to die if help didn’t arrive soon.
*
The sun had come up and the air was already steamy. Sweat ran down Luke’s face as he crushed concrete beneath his sledgehammer. He moved closer to where the dogs were sniffing around. The canines would be allowed to search for about ten minutes and then the handlers would let them play tug-of-war, or fetch the ripped up Frisbee for ten minutes, followed by water, food and rest. This was going to take forever.
