by Deb Kastner
“Lord, help us both,” Mary prayed fervently. “What happened when you counted the children, Stephanie?” She cradled the woman’s head and forced her to make eye contact. “You have to tell me.”
“Missing.” Stephanie groaned and tried once again to slump into semiconsciousness. It was clear the woman was in medical shock.
“Stephanie,” Mary said again, demanding her attention. She needed to get the woman to the shelter and wrapped in a blanket, but not until she knew what was going on. “Who? Who is missing?”
Stephanie wailed, a frightening stream of emotion filtering from deep within her. “Aaron Hawkins. I thought I got them all out. I tried. I don’t know. I—”
She stopped speaking and doubled over as a contraction overwhelmed her, her expression turning from sorrow to agony. Her jaw tightened, and her eyes once again took on a glassy, distant quality. She drew into herself, disappearing somewhere else in the midst of the pain.
Mary was on the verge of panic. It was almost too much for her to bear, especially on her own. A missing preschooler and a woman in premature labor. What was she supposed to do with all this? Her heart hammered and her mind raced.
She shook Stephanie’s shoulders, knowing she had to bring her back to some sense of reality, no matter how painful it was for her.
“Stephanie? Do you think you might be in labor?”
She hiccupped, then inhaled through her teeth as the contraction subsided.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“When did the contractions start, and how far apart are they? Are they regular or intermittent?”
Stephanie shook her head against the onslaught of questions.
“I don’t know,” she said again. “Took the kids out. Pain started. Kept coming.” She slurred the words so that Mary could barely understand what she was saying.
“Where are the kids now?”
“Center. Shelter.”
“Did you take them there?”
Stephanie shook her head, but offered no explanation as to what she was doing here, alone, on the opposite end of town.
This was a nightmare.
Suddenly Stephanie grasped Mary’s arm so hard her fingernails bit into her skin, but Mary didn’t flinch.
“This can’t be labor, right?” She was begging for assurance that Mary could not give.
“I don’t know. It might be. But let’s not panic. How far along are you?”
“Thirty-six weeks.”
“It could be Braxton Hicks. Just try to breathe through your contractions until we can get you looked at.” Mary supported Stephanie around the waist and turned her directly toward the chapel. “Let’s get you to the shelter. It’s not far now.”
“Aaron,” she whimpered.
“I know, hon, but you need to see Delia.”
Mary glanced backward, down the empty street. At the chapel there were many others who could do as much for Stephanie as she could, and there was a little boy missing. There was no easy answer, no solution where everybody won.
“Do you think you can make it the rest of the way to the chapel? There will be someone to meet you and take you to Delia.” She took Stephanie by the shoulders and looked her right in the eyes, trying to ascertain if she could follow the simple direction.
Stephanie made a sound that passed for an affirmation.
“I promise you I’m going to find Aaron, okay? You concentrate on that little baby of yours. I’ll make sure you’re the first person to know that Aaron is safe.”
If Aaron was safe. Please, God.
Mary was relieved to see the determined spark in Stephanie’s gaze. It wasn’t far for her to walk to reach the chapel. She would make it. She had to.
Mary, on the other hand, was facing her very own nightmare-come-to-life. She prayed fervently for guidance. She didn’t even know where to start, but she was thankful for her search-and-rescue training and the dog at her side. Sebastian’s presence reassured her. He didn’t get anxious. He wanted to get the job done.
“Come on, boy,” she said to her Lab. “Let’s go find Aaron.”
From what she could piece together from Stephanie’s garbled statements, something had fallen on the roof of the preschool, and she had evacuated the children. At some point she’d stopped to count them and had realized one of them was missing—Aaron Hawkins.
She prayed Stephanie was wrong about Aaron, and the boy was safe in the shelter with the others. She had no idea why Stephanie had been out wandering the street, except that she was in shock from the accident and from the pain of her labor.
She decided a visit to the community center was in order, to get some answers there and to make sure the other children were safe. But her fear for Aaron continued to nag her, so she made a small detour to stop by and determine what had really happened to the preschool.
What she saw shocked her. The building couldn’t have been more than a couple of years old, an infant dwelling compared to the nineteenth-century clapboard buildings that lined Main Street. But Stephanie was right about the damage. An electrical pole had been torn from its roots and then had fallen dead-center on the preschool’s left wing, breaking out windows and caving in the roof on that side.
She was grateful Stephanie had managed to get as many children out as she had. But Aaron...
“Sebastian!” she called in a moment of panic when the dog darted into a hole made from brick and crumpled drywall. She hadn’t given him any kind of command, but she knew what he was doing.
His job.
Now she needed to pull herself together and do hers.
Chapter Ten
Mary wished she wasn’t alone, but she wasn’t going to leave when Sebastian may have found a hit on Aaron. Digging around in the debris with the chance of a live electrical current was an enormous risk, but one she was prepared to take, if it meant saving the little boy. Sebastian had gone in on instinct, and Mary trusted her dog.
She fished her cell out of her pocket and punched in Eli’s number. He’d want to be here for this, to experience search and rescue at its best. Moreover, she needed backup, which he could give her. And he could alert the medics, just in case Aaron was hurt.
She glanced at her phone, wondering why the call wasn’t going through.
No signal. Not a single bar. Why was this happening? She’d never had a problem with cell reception within Serendipity town limits before.
Not now, Lord. Please.
She tapped her phone twice and then shoved it back into her pocket with a frustrated groan.
She was completely on her own. And she had a decision to make.
Did she go forward, or should she call Sebastian back?
Forward.
This was what all her training was about. Her very life’s work came down to this.
One lost child.
She gritted her teeth, and with every ounce of determination she carried coursing through her veins, she moved toward the front door. It was still standing, and she didn’t hesitate to enter through it, nimbly stepping through the debris, intent on finding Sebastian—and hopefully, Aaron.
“Where are you, boy?” she called, holding her flashlight at shoulder level and making a sweeping pass over the devastated area. Scattered wooden blocks, puzzles and bits of colorful stuffed animals were wedged between broken two-by-fours and shattered drywall. The back wall still stood, covered with a whiteboard and posters with the alphabet letters on them. It was a stark contrast to the destruction around it and an eerie sight.
“Sebastian?” she called again.
This time she heard him bark, followed by a hollow whine, almost as if he was trying to speak her language. Even without seeing him, she knew he’d made a hit. And the dark knot in the pit of her stomach told her it was Aaron.
She
shone her light in the direction of the sound, one room over—or what would have been one room had the building still been standing. She pulled her scarf over her mouth and nose to block the dust raised from the wind sifting through the broken drywall.
She pushed aside debris with her hands, shoulders and feet, no longer caring about the threat of a live wire.
“Aaron?” she called, loud enough to be heard but gentle enough not to scare the child. If he was conscious, he was probably scared out of his wits.
Sebastian whined again. She could see him now, sitting in a full, strong hit stance, but scratching at the floor in front of him and nosing a board stretched diagonally from what was left of one wall to the floor. The roof, such as it was, was sagging, with little support from the beams. Soon it would collapse completely. If Aaron was stuck in that corner, he was in grave danger.
She had to get him out now.
“What’ve you got, boy?” She climbed over a pile of broken tables to reach her dog. Quickly she examined the diagonal board that was blocking the corner, testing it for movement, but it didn’t budge.
Then she heard a whimper.
It was the smallest sound, there for a second, and then it was gone, but it took away any doubts Mary might have had.
Little Aaron was buried somewhere underneath the rubble.
She couldn’t move the diagonal plank, so rather than take up more time trying, she gingerly moved piece by agonizing piece of debris from the triangle underneath it. Her palms were soon bleeding from splinters and sharp edges, but she didn’t care.
Finally she’d made a hole large enough for her to crawl into. She immediately saw Aaron slumped up against the wall, his body limp. The boy was whimpering but unconscious. Mary worried that he’d been hit in the head by flying wreckage.
She checked for external injuries and found none. She knew general medical protocol was against moving an unconscious person. An unseen neck wound might leave him permanently paralyzed.
But what was the alternative?
She glanced up at the holes in the roof. Who knew how long those beams would hold? There was no way she was going to leave Aaron here alone while she went to get help, not with the whole building ready to collapse on top of him. And staying with him in this position wouldn’t protect him, either.
Mary stared down at Aaron and blew out a cleansing breath to steady herself for what she knew must be done.
Please, Lord, let this be the right thing.
With infinite care, she curled the young child in her arms, pulling him close to her heart. He was bigger and heavier than she’d expected, but with the amount of adrenaline shooting through her, she knew they could make it.
She crawled back through the opening she’d made, ecstatic that the worst was over.
“We got him, Sebastian,” she said, praising her dog with the tone of her voice. “You did good.”
She stood and began the perilous journey back across the floor, moving carefully, foot by foot, testing her weight with each step.
She contemplated a long plate of wood resting at an angle against the mound of broken tables she had to cross. There was no way around it. It looked sturdy enough, and she’d used it coming in, but when she took her first step onto the board—
Crack.
The plate gave out on her, flinging her onto her back. Had she not had Aaron in her arms, she might have been able to turn her body so she could land somewhat safely, or at least relatively painlessly, but as it was, she was all about protecting the little boy.
She hit a sharp pile of wreckage flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her, with her shoulder and hip taking the brunt force of the hit. For a moment she laid without moving, just staring at the ceiling and trying to reorient herself. She tried to roll sideways and back to her feet, but her body wasn’t cooperating. Nothing moved. No matter how hard she concentrated, her legs simply wouldn’t budge.
Everything was numb. The room was fading to pinpoints of black. At first she thought she’d broken her flashlight, but then she panicked when she realized the truth.
She was losing consciousness.
She had failed to save Aaron.
She took a deep, rasping breath. “Sebastian.”
The dog whined and nosed her hand.
“Go find Eli. Find...”
And then the world went dark.
* * *
Eli was surprised to see Stephanie enter the church without Mary. She was wavering on her feet and clutching her belly. Eli grabbed a nearby wool blanket and wrapped it around her, urging her to sit.
“Where’s Mary?” he asked the dazed woman.
She looked back at him with glassy eyes. “Preschool. Aaron.”
Then she groaned and slumped forward. Eli wasn’t sure, but he guessed Stephanie was in labor.
“Zach,” he called to the medic across the room. “Lady with a baby over here.”
Zach made a beeline for Stephanie, immediately assessing her and taking over caring for her needs. Delia was close behind, barking instructions for a cot to be emptied.
“Zach,” he said, calling the medic aside. “Stephanie said something about a kid at the preschool. I think he might be hurt, and I’m pretty sure Mary went after him. Once you’ve got Stephanie stabilized, can you head that direction?”
Zach nodded, and Eli didn’t wait for more. Something was going on with Mary, and he didn’t know what. She’d left Stephanie to find her way over to the chapel on her own, while Mary went elsewhere. She wouldn’t do that for no reason. It had to be something big.
Stephanie had mentioned the preschool, and presumably the name of one of her students. Somehow Eli knew that was related to where Mary had gone, so he whistled for Bullet and took off down Main Street toward the preschool.
He was about halfway there when he was met by Sebastian. He’d never heard the dog bark so adamantly, nor had Sebastian ever acted so frantic. The Lab was generally a laid-back dog, but right now he had a wild look in his eyes, and Eli had to work to tamp down his phobia. It was only his fear that something had happened to Mary that kept him sane, especially when Sebastian grabbed the ankle of his pants and started pulling on him.
“What is it, boy? Did something happen to Mary?”
Once he’d said the words aloud, they became real. His heart burst in his chest as adrenaline coursed through him. His Mary was in trouble. Sebastian was trying to get his attention, not attack him.
“Show me, Sebastian. Where is Mary?”
He wasn’t surprised when the dog turned and trotted toward the preschool, looking back every so often to make sure Eli was following.
When they reached the preschool, Eli was shocked to see what the storm had caused. His stomach turned when Sebastian crawled through a hole and into the building.
Mary was in there? Why would she go in alone? There was a major threat of a live electrical wire, to say nothing of the fallen debris.
To save a child.
Of course she would. Mary wouldn’t think twice about plunging herself into danger if it meant saving someone’s child.
Now it was up to Eli to save her.
“Are you ready, Bullet?”
The dog whined and followed Eli into the preschool.
“Search,” he told Bullet. “Find Mary.”
He shone his flashlight around the room, focusing on the left wing when Bullet plunged through a hole in the wreckage. Then he heard barking. Both dogs had made a hit.
Mary.
He ran toward the spot where Bullet had gone through. He growled in frustration. He was too big to fit in the hole. But when he aimed his light through, he could see the shadow of a person lying on her back, not moving, but cuddling a bundle in her arms.
With wild abandon, he started throwing debris aside—b
ricks, boards, school supplies. If it was in the way, it was gone. He had to get to his Mary, now. From what he could tell, she was unconscious, but she had little Aaron with her. He didn’t know what kind of shape he’d find either of them in, only that they weren’t moving.
Not dead, he pleaded to God. Please, don’t let them be dead.
When he’d made a hole half big enough for him to go through, he simply stepped back and rammed the rest of the way through with his shoulder, sprinted to Mary’s side and dropped to his knees beside her and little Aaron.
“Oh, Lord. Oh, Lord,” he kept praying, not caring that he was saying the words aloud, nor that he wasn’t actually finishing his prayer. God knew everything in his heart, how much he loved Mary, and how he couldn’t live without her.
“Mary, baby,” he whispered, sweeping her hair back with his palm and leaning close enough to feel the slight brush of her breath on his cheek. “Come on, sweetheart. Wake up for me.” He tucked Aaron into his arms and quickly examined him. He looked bruised, but his breath was strong. He appeared to be sleeping.
She had risked her own life to get this child to safety. Eli could do no less.
Boards creaked over his head. His pulse burned through him. He couldn’t get both the boy and Mary out at once, but could he leave Mary when the roof might cave in?
He knew what she would want him to do. He swept his lips across her clammy forehead. “Aaron is safe, honey. You saved him. I’m coming back for you, baby. You’re not alone. Bullet and Sebastian are here with you.”
He commanded the dogs to stay, not that he needed to. They both understood Mary’s dilemma. He crawled back through the opening he’d made in the wall as fast as he could with a child in his arms and without jeopardizing Aaron’s safety, praying the whole time that the roof would hold until he could get back to Mary.
Just as he broke free of the door, he was surrounded by people, some from the chapel and others from the community center, where they’d pieced together what had happened. Someone had driven an ambulance over, and it was parked nearby, its lights flashing. In the center of the group, Phoebe, Aaron’s mother, sobbed with relief as she reached for her child.
