‘Your mum sent me to find you, Ricky. How ‘bout we get out of here and I take you back to Mum?’
Still no response. Hell, maybe the kid was backward enough not to be able to speak. Or to understand what he was saying. He had to be very close, judging by the proximity of that coughing, but the surroundings provided a rich source of places for a small boy to hide effectively. There were any number of vehicles to shelter behind…or beneath. Joe squatted on his haunches at the sudden inspiration.
Bingo!
A small face peered at him from beneath the axle of a furniture van, looking like a rabbit caught by headlights. Huge brown eyes stared at Joe. The kid was petrified!
‘It’s OK, Ricky. My name’s Joe. I’m a friend of your mum’s.’
His reassurance didn’t produce any flicker of relief. As he always did, subconsciously, Joe looked at things from the child’s perspective. Alone, terrified and possibly in pain, faced with a huge stranger wearing odd clothes and with his face obscured by goggles and dust mask. Joe pulled the mask down and smiled at Ricky.
‘I’m not really scary,’ he told the child quietly. ‘See?’
Unblinking brown eyes stared back from a disconcertingly unresponsive face.
‘We need to get out of here, Ricky,’ Joe continued. ‘Did you hear that?’ Another shower of debris had fallen somewhere in the car park. ‘It’s a bit dangerous with things falling off the ceiling and I’m too big to hide under that truck. Good hiding place, though. You’re clever, aren’t you?’ Joe was trying to assess his chances of grabbing the kid and pulling him clear. If Ricky decided to avoid him by wriggling further under the truck Joe would have no chance of extricating him. He wouldn’t be able to abandon him either. Joe edged forward very, very slowly, as though he were approaching a wild animal. He didn’t want to frighten Ricky any further but he was quite certain the boy wasn’t going to come out voluntarily.
It almost didn’t work. If Joe hadn’t hooked his hand under Ricky’s armpit he would have escaped and the planned route had clearly been further under the truck.
‘Sorry, kid.’ Joe hauled him clear. ‘But I have to get you out of here.’
Oddly, Ricky didn’t struggle once he knew the game was up. He didn’t shout or cry either. Joe found himself firmly holding a very small and rather limp child. Maybe he was injured. In normal circumstances it was always the really quiet children that Joe would be most concerned about. This was no place to try and assess Ricky’s condition, however, and time could be running out for both of them. Joe could hear a sound suspiciously like the horrible moan of an unstable building’s infrastructure.
He had no idea of a potential escape route. Maybe it would be better to try and find shelter. Or at least somewhere safe for Ricky while he went searching. The car beside them was locked. So was the next. Joe considered smashing a window and looked back for something suitable, like a piece of concrete rubble. His headlamp’s beam flashed over the truck Ricky had been hiding beneath, a furniture delivery vehicle presumably belonging to one of the shops the mall housed. Joe hoisted Ricky more securely onto his hip and moved swiftly as the ominous creaking sound came again.
Yes! The back of the truck was unlocked. Joe pulled the door open and deposited Ricky on the floor. As he hauled himself up and pulled the heavy door closed behind them, Ricky scuttled sideways like a crab until he reached the far corner of the truck. He curled his knees up and started rocking himself gently as he stared back at Joe. The stare was coming from quite a distance. The truck was huge and felt comfortingly solid. It probably wouldn’t offer total protection and the air pocket might not last long if the roof fell in and buried them, but it was a damned sight better than being as exposed as they had been. And Ricky was secure. Even if Joe went out searching, the small child would be unable to reach or manipulate the heavy internal door fastenings. For the moment, at least, they were safe.
The restraining hand of the law wasn’t necessary this time but Jessica couldn’t blame the scene command officials for deeming that more than one police officer would be prudent to ensure she stayed put. Maybe they should have followed up their threat of arresting her in the first place. The fact that she had been allowed back in had endangered lives. Joe would never have gone back in if she hadn’t been with him. She had sensed the instant that reckless decision had been made during the eye contact they had shared at the point of reaching safety. Something had connected him to Ricky through what he had seen in her eyes, and it had been strong enough for him to risk his own life to attempt the rescue of her child. Maybe, thanks to her, this disaster had just claimed another victim.
Not that anyone knew anything. The whole scene was being evacuated until the impact on stability of the secondary collapse could be assessed. Crowds of people were now milling about in the car park near where Jessica had been positioned or were walking purposefully towards their own bases or the church hall that had been commissioned to provide hot food and drinks, washing and resting facilities.
Jessica knew the stationary groups of rescue workers were all talking about what had just happened and she also knew that an effective information grapevine had established itself in the time this major incident had been in progress. More than one stare was being directed at her as people filtered the scraps of information gathered and then selected the more interesting items to discuss in detail. The relief of hearing a friendly voice was enough to make Jessica lose the edge of her control.
Reaching out as her friend Kelly greeted her, Jessica found herself pulled into a comfortingly tight hug.
‘I heard about your mother,’ Kelly said against her ear. ‘About Ricky. God, Jess! Someone said they saw you run into the car park—that you were trapped.’ The hug tightened into an almost painful squeeze. ‘I’m so glad it’s not true.’
‘But it is.’ Jessica felt her control slipping another notch. Her fear for both Ricky and Joe surfaced enough for the release of tears. A racking sob interrupted her words. ‘Ricky’s in there,’ she managed. ‘In the car park.’ Uncontrollable sobs prevented Jessica adding the news about Joe but her squad leader was still nearby and his calm words only served to increase the intensity of Jessica’s tearful release of pent-up emotions.
‘Joe stopped Jessica going in after him,’ Tony told Kelly. ‘He knew how dangerous it was.’
‘He went in himself instead.’ Jessica could feel another hand on her back, rubbing beneath where Kelly’s arms held her. June was also trying to impart some comfort as she spoke to Kelly. ‘Nobody thought to try stopping him.’
‘And then it was too late.’ Tony sounded grim. He was probably blaming Jessica despite everything he’d said to the contrary—like that Joe was an adult and an experienced paramedic and quite capable of making his own decisions. ‘The explosion happened and the ceiling came down right beside us. We had to run for our lives.’
Jessica was desperately trying to regain control. She managed to stifle her sobs but the effort was enough to make her tremble all over. Kelly’s embrace was giving her strength, however, and as the strength returned, so did her ability to think more clearly. The secondary collapse was over now. It was time the situation was reassessed. Time for someone to find out whether things were as hopeless as many feared. She pulled free of Kelly’s arms.
‘We have to go back in,’ she told her colleagues. ‘We have to find them.’
‘We’ll go back as soon as it’s cleared for safety,’ Tony agreed. ‘But not you this time, Jessica. You’ll have to leave this search to us.’
Jessica shook her head miserably. ‘It’s my fault Joe’s in trouble. I have to help.’
‘The best help you can give is to look after yourself right now. You need to be away from here for a while. Kelly or June can take you over to the church hall and look after you.’
‘No. I want to stay here.’ Jessica had to try one last time. ‘My son is in there, Tony. He…’ The new strength Jessica had summoned was more fragile than it felt. She had to choke back a new
sob. ‘He might still be alive,’ she added brokenly.
‘You can stay close,’ Tony told her. ‘But you can’t come back inside.’
‘But…’ Jessica swallowed any more words. Tony was just doing precisely what needed to be done. She would do exactly the same in his position of responsibility. And if her squad leader didn’t do it, someone from Scene Command certainly would.
‘It’s OK, Jess.’ Kelly’s voice was reassuringly confident. ‘You can rely on us.’
Any desire to protest further faded completely as Jessica listened to her classmates decide what they were going to do next. Kelly was right. She could rely on them. All of them. The USAR course had been largely attended by people that Jessica both liked and admired. Paramedic Kelly and another nurse, Wendy, were both close friends now and June was great. Fletch and Ross were both doctors and the guys from the fire service were all strong and caring men. They would all be far more use than Jessica on scene and they wouldn’t stupidly endanger themselves or other members of their team. Jessica kept her head down as she allowed Kelly to lead her away from the scene command headquarters towards the church hall in Sutherland Street where the USAR personnel had decided to take a break.
Kelly had noticed how quiet Jessica now was. ‘Joe will have found Ricky,’ she said confidently. ‘I’m sure of it. And if there’s any way he can keep them both safe, he’ll do it. He’s not a helicopter paramedic for nothing. Joe’s coped with some pretty dodgy situations in his time—even a chopper crash once.’
‘I can’t lose them both.’ Jessica realised as she spoke that Kelly might misconstrue her meaning and think that her feelings for Joe were far stronger than she had admitted. This was not the time to explore just how close to the truth that might be. ‘Not Mum and Ricky,’ she added quickly. ‘Especially not Ricky.’ There could be no misunderstanding the depth of feeling in the last whispered words. ‘He’s my whole life.’
‘I know.’ Kelly’s arm tightened around her friend’s waist.
‘Is there anyone we can contact for you, Jess?’ Fletch sounded as keen as Kelly to provide comfort. ‘Any family or friends from home?’
‘No.’ Jessica shook her head sadly. She had known how small her world was. Why had she never realised how vulnerable it made her? ‘The only people that matter are here. Mum…and Ricky.’
And Joe. Despite the fact that she knew the attraction wasn’t mutual, Jessica would never forget meeting Joe Barrington. Any new fantasies of finding a meaningful relationship and future happiness would have a role model she knew it would be impossible to improve on. Yes, Joe mattered. Rather a lot. Even more so now that she had lost her mother.
The protection of the numbing shock her mother’s death had produced was wearing off. Jessica could feel a nasty prickle reminiscent of waking from a nightmare. Perhaps the feeling had stirred because her group was now walking near the large tent that contained the temporary morgue catering for the incident’s fatalities. Her mother would be in there and Jessica decided she’d better at least start dealing with her grief now. If she didn’t, what sort of shape might she be in when they found Ricky and she needed to focus on being a mother rather than a daughter?
‘I want to go in there,’ she said quietly. ‘I want to see Mum again.’
‘Are you sure?’ Kelly sounded doubtful.
Jessica nodded and tried to hold back a new outbreak of tears. She cleared her throat. ‘Would you come with me, please, Kelly?’
Fletch offered to accompany her instead but Jessica didn’t want male company. Kelly had a close relationship with her own mother. She would understand at least part of what Jessica had to go through.
The rows of covered bodies in the closely guarded tent was horrific. Officials in charge of this grim area were now sadly used to coping with distraught relatives coming in to identify and mourn the loss of loved ones. The process of removing those already identified and seen by the medical forensic officer had begun and a hearse was parked discreetly at the back of the tent. Jessica and Kelly were given as much privacy as possible with portable screens, and someone had done a wonderful job of cleaning up her mother and covering the injuries as best they could.
Jessica had no idea how long she spent in there or how Kelly coped so well with her raw grief, but when she emerged she knew she had done the right thing. She had overcome the barrier of acknowledging her loss and had begun the process of grieving. And she could be quite certain now that she was going to survive all this. Again, she was tapping into the well of strength she hadn’t known she possessed and a tiny part of her felt proud she had discovered it and determined that she would never lose sight of such a valuable attribute.
Her friendship with Kelly Drummond was also valuable. ‘Thank you,’ Jessica said to her simply as they headed once more towards the church hall. ‘I don’t think I could have done that without you.’
‘That’s what friends are for.’ Kelly smiled. ‘I’m here for you, Jess. So are Wendy and Ross and Fletch and June. And Joe.’ The afterthought was almost guilty—as though Kelly had forgotten her confidence that Joe had survived and would be found.
Jessica nodded solemnly and managed to return a faint replica of Kelly’s smile. She was going to need all her friends in the near future, that was certain. What was painfully uncertain was whether she had any basis on which to pin her hopes that Joe would be amongst them.
CHAPTER THREE
RICKY was still terrified.
The kid was huddled in the corner of the truck, which was empty apart from some packing materials and straps for securing items of furniture. Joe moved towards Ricky and the child shrank back, managing to make himself appear ridiculously small for a five-year-old boy. He also looked frightened and very, very vulnerable. It touched a place in Joe’s heart that was still surprisingly tender. How old had he been during the brief intrusion into his life by John—one of the more unwelcome of a string of ‘uncles’? Three or four, maybe? Joe had been an unwanted extra and if he hadn’t made himself scarce voluntarily then John had always had a quick hand or belt ready to provide an incentive. Joe sighed. The memory might give him empathy with this child’s feelings but it was far from a welcome one.
Dropping to a crouch made his size far less intimidating. Joe had learned that as a paramedic. In fact, when he had to, he could handle kids pretty well. And there was certainly no one around here he could practise his usual delegation of duties on. Joe eased his helmet off and set it carefully on the floor to illuminate the corner of the truck. Then he pulled off his goggles, dust mask and gloves. See, his smile told Ricky, I’m getting more normal by the second. He also kept talking, keeping his tone reassuring.
‘My name’s Joe and I’m a paramedic. That means my job is to look after people who get sick. Or hurt themselves. This is cool, isn’t it, Ricky? This truck’s like a special room to keep us safe from all those bits of concrete that keep falling off the ceiling.
‘They’ll be coming to look for us soon. You wouldn’t believe how many people are out there with all sorts of special gear to help them. Did you hear the noises? There are machines to cut up concrete and lift heavy stuff. There’s even a bulldozer that’s allowed inside the shops. And cranes.’
The vocal reassurance seemed to be working. His paramedic skills were proving pretty useful, in fact. The kid wasn’t trying to escape and his gentle rocking movement was actually a help in making a visual assessment of the child’s condition. Ricky was pale. Because of the contrast of the thatch of black hair and the big, brown eyes, his face looked as white as the proverbial ghost’s. Or was that at least partly due to the layer of concrete and plaster dust? He was leaning to one side, possibly to protect painful ribs, and he clutched one elbow, cradling what was clearly a badly broken arm. He was still coughing but his breathing sounded generally OK. Joe was coughing quite frequently himself now, thanks to the plaster dust.
Ricky’s knees had grazes nasty enough to need quite a bit of attention and there were myriad other cuts an
d bruises on the small body, but it was the arm that bothered Joe the most.
‘You’ve hurt your arm, Ricky. That’s a shame, buddy. Is it really sore?’
The question received no more response than any of his questions so far. Joe was a little unsure of how to deal with this. Problems he had encountered were usually at the other end of the spectrum where kids were shrieking too much to talk or allow an easy assessment.
‘Can you talk, Ricky?’ If the kid hadn’t been watching him so intently, Joe would have been easily persuaded that he was severely intellectually disabled, but there was no way anyone could have eyes that that and not be intelligent. They were like Jessica’s eyes. The colour of dairy milk chocolate. Maybe he was just as shy as his mother. ‘You don’t have to talk,’ he said casually. ‘But it might help if you nod or something. Can you nod?’ Joe found he was demonstrating the action as he raised his eyebrows encouragingly at Ricky.
The movement of the boy’s head was hesitant and very slight but it was definitely there and the suggestion of a response felt like a major breakthrough. Ricky could understand what he was saying. He wasn’t just talking to himself.
‘Good man,’ Joe congratulated Ricky. He kept his gaze on the child’s head. ‘Is your arm sore?’
This time the nod was a fraction more definite.
‘Can you wiggle your fingers? Like this?’ Joe demonstrated a wiggle.
He could see the flinch of pain on Ricky’s face that accompanied the weak attempt to copy the movement, but the child made no sound of distress. Either he was incapable of producing sound or he was one brave kid.
‘What I’m going to do, Ricky, is make a little bed for that sore arm to help it feel better.’ Joe glanced into the shadows skirting the circle of light his headlamp was providing. ‘See that cardboard over there? I’m going to cut a piece of that for the bottom of the bed and some of that blanket to make a cushion. Is that OK with you, buddy?’
Joe took the silence as acquiescence and pulled his shears and a crêpe bandage from the limited supplies left in his bum bag. He could only hope that the circulation and nerve supply to Ricky’s hand wouldn’t prove to be compromised. This would be a hell of a lot easier on both of them if he could just splint the limb without having to straighten it. The impression that young Ricky McPhail was no wimp was strengthened considerably over the next twenty minutes or so. Joe was as gentle as it was possible to be but it still had to hurt and Joe wished more than once that he hadn’t used all the supplies of analgesics from his pouch on the patient with the crushed foot. The break in Ricky’s arm was nasty, involving both the ulna and radius, and had come very close to being a compound fracture. It gave another important reason for splinting the small arm other than pain relief. Any untoward pressure and one of the sharp ends of the fractured bones could pierce the skin and present a huge risk of infection and delayed healing.
THE NURSE'S RESCUE Page 4
