Rescuing the Paramedic's Heart

by Emily Forbes

  He had his eye trained on a lone surfer who appeared to be drifting south towards Bronte and the notorious rock formation called The Twins. Many surfers had come unstuck in that stretch of ocean. The two tall rocks, The Twins, were separated by a narrow channel of water and the tide created a vortex that, once it took hold of you, sucked you in between the rocks against your will. It was a skill to be able to escape the power of the ocean. Time the waves incorrectly and you’d find yourself thrown against the rocks, putting you at risk of abrasions, broken bones or worse.

  He kept his binoculars focussed on the surfer, knowing he needed to paddle north, away from the rocks, back towards the beach. But unless he was a strong swimmer and also aware of the dangers, Ryder knew it would be difficult for him to make it.

  Every second that passed saw him pulled closer and closer to the rocks. He saw him begin to paddle and he willed him on but his efforts were in vain. The rip was dragging him further from safety. Closer to danger.

  Ryder knew he couldn’t wait any longer. The surfer was in trouble.

  He stood up and dropped the binoculars on the bench.

  ‘Gibbo, call Central and tell them to send the jet-ski. There’s a surfer headed for The Twins.’

  He grabbed the rescue tube and flew down the stairs, leaving Gibbo in the tower, knowing that the outcome of this emergency was all up to him. If the surfer was sucked between the two massive rocks there was only one way he was coming out and that would be with Ryder and the rescue tube. The long rescue boards were useless in the narrow gap between the rocks, as were the jet-skis.

  The jet-ski would take several minutes to arrive. It needed to travel one and a half kilometres from Bondi to Tamarama and Ryder had no idea if it had been launched today. If it was still on the trailer by the tower, that would add even more precious minutes before it could be of assistance. In any case, in this situation the jet-ski was only useful for transporting a patient back to shore. It was impossible to get near The Twins using the ski. The vortex created by the tide would simply suck the jet-ski in as well, smashing it against the rocks.

  Ryder slung the strap of the rescue tube diagonally over his chest and one shoulder, tucked the bright yellow tube under his arm and sprinted down the beach. He ran through the shallow water, threw the tube behind him and dived under the first wave break, surfacing and swimming strongly towards The Twins as the tube floated in his wake, pulled along by the rope.

  He swam parallel to the beach, lifting his head every now and then to check his direction. He could see the surfer. He was still trying to paddle away from the rocks but he was making absolutely no progress. He had seconds before he would be sucked in between the rocks.

  Ryder swam harder, knowing it was futile. There was no way he could reach him in time.

  The next wave was his undoing. It picked the surfer up and swept him into the gap and Ryder lost sight of him.

  ‘Bondi Fifteen, can you head to Tamarama Beach. Lifeguards have requested standby assistance for a water rescue.’

  ‘Copy that,’ Poppy said, as she swung the ambulance around and headed towards Tamarama. She parked on the road overlooking the beach. There was a crowd of people standing on the path that ran along the clifftop and stretched from Coogee Beach past Bronte and Tamarama to Bondi and was popular with joggers and walkers. The spectators were all looking to the right, at the southern end of the beach.

  She and Alex climbed out of the ambulance and joined the spectators at the clifftop fence. People were pointing at a surfer who was paddling furiously but, despite his efforts, was getting dragged closer and closer to the rocks at the base of the cliff. A lifeguard was closing in on him, cutting through the water with strong strokes, a yellow rescue tube dragging along behind him. The swell was large today, good for surfing but not so good for rescues.

  A flash of red in the water to her left caught her eye. She turned her head and could see the Bondi lifeguard jet-ski racing south. She recognised Jet on the back of the jet-ski, his blond curls streaming behind him in the wind. She turned back towards the rocks. She saw the lifeguard pause and lift his head to check on the surfer’s location. Her stomach dropped. It looked like Ryder.

  She strained her eyes but the distance and the breaking waves made it impossible to see for certain. He had broad shoulders, thick hair that could be either dark blonde or brown. She felt in her gut that it was Ryder, the tilt of his head, the shape of his jaw was familiar, but he shouldn’t be working. After the drama of yesterday, after Sergei’s drowning, surely Ryder should have been given the day off? What was he doing at work?

  ‘Can I borrow the binos?’ she asked. Alex passed the binoculars over and she lifted them to her face.

  Her stomach lurched.

  It was Ryder.

  She lowered the binoculars, widening her field of vision. The tide was strong and the surfer was getting pulled further and further away from Ryder.

  He was close to the rocks now.

  In the blink of an eye he was sucked behind a large rock. Swept out of sight.

  Her heart was in her mouth as she saw Ryder put his head down and swim towards the rocks. He followed the surfer, swimming directly into the path of danger until he too disappeared from view.

  She held her breath, waiting, willing him to reappear.

  It seemed to take for ever, but eventually she saw him, swimming strongly away from the massive rock formation. It was slow going as he dragged the surfer behind him. The yellow rescue tube was around the surfer’s chest and the rope attached to the harness stretched tightly from Ryder’s shoulders to the tube. The surfboard was nowhere to be seen as he swam towards the open water.

  The jet-ski was stationary in the water. Jet was on the back, sitting behind another lifeguard, possibly Dutchy. Why weren’t they moving?

  She realised they couldn’t risk going closer or they’d be putting themselves at risk of getting smashed on the rocks. Ryder was going to have to swim to them.

  Poppy checked his progress. The surfer was conscious, floating on his back with one arm held across his chest. He was attempting a half-backstroke movement, trying to swim, but it was clear Ryder was doing the majority of the work. He towed the surfer away from the shore but it was slow going.

  She heard the thump-thump-thump of a helicopter and looked up. Lifesaver One appeared, hovering above the ocean. Beneath the chopper the jet-ski was moving again. It had turned ninety degrees and was heading out to sea. Poppy frowned. Where were they going?

  And then she saw it. A rogue wave was bearing down on them and the jet-ski was sitting in the impact zone.

  Dutchy rode the jet-ski up the face of the wave, dropping down the other side, the rescue mat flying in his wake.

  Poppy eyes followed the path of the wave.

  It was heading straight for Ryder and he had absolutely nowhere to go.

  Her heart skittered in her chest as she watched in horror as the wave picked him up, lifted him over the surfer and hurled him towards the rocks.

  She heard someone scream as Ryder was slammed, head first, into the rock and then sucked into the chasm.

  Alex grabbed her arm, squeezing her forearm tight, and she realised she was the one screaming.

  The wave collected the surfer next and he disappeared too, into the seething mass of white water at the base of the rocks. Roped together, they were powerless, insignificant against the force of the massive wall of water.

  Poppy gripped the fence that ran along the cliff edge, her knuckles white with tension, as she waited, helplessly, for the water to release them. After what seemed like a lifetime one of the men was spat out from its hold.

  It was the surfer who reappeared first, easily identified by the yellow tube that was still strapped around his chest.

  She waited for Ryder, knowing he’d be close as he’d still be attached via the rope. As long as it had held.

>   She was afraid to breathe, afraid to blink, afraid to look away. The wind blew off the ocean and her eyes were stinging but she didn’t turn her head, didn’t close her eyes.

  The surfer bobbed in the water. He wasn’t trying to swim but this time the current pulled him away from the shore and eventually Ryder came into view.

  He floated in the water.

  He wasn’t moving.

  Waves crashed over his face and still he was immobile. Surely it was only a matter of time before he started to sink?

  Poppy’s heart was racing in her chest, making her feel faint. She bent double as a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Bile rose in her throat as she fought fear.

  She wanted to yell out, to tell the surfer to look out for Ryder, but she couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t scream and she knew the surfer wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway. She was helpless, completely helpless.

  She could see the surfer looking around. Could he feel Ryder’s weight dragging on the rope? She saw when he registered the situation. He pulled on the rope with one hand, pulling himself towards Ryder and grabbed him with his good arm and somehow managed to hold his head out of the water.

  The jet-ski was coming back for them and Poppy willed them to hurry.

  Jet dived off the back off the ski and swam strongly towards Ryder. Poppy raised the binoculars in time to see him hook his arm under Ryder, unclip the rope from the rescue tube and separate the two men. He threw the rope to Dutchy, who pulled it through the water, dragging the surfer to the jet-ski.

  Jet was treading water and supporting Ryder. He was limp in the water, lifeless.

  Tears streamed down Poppy’s cheeks as she silently begged Jet to save him. But what could he do? The jet-ski couldn’t manage all of them in these conditions. Not with Ryder unconscious. Or worse.

  CHAPTER NINE

  JET WAS LOOKING up at the helicopter. He stretched one arm above his head and waved his hand in a circular motion, indicating to the crew that he needed help.

  Poppy saw one of the rescue crew drop from the chopper. He landed in the water, feet first, and swam over to Jet. She watched as he and Jet slipped a harness over Ryder. They attached cables and winched Ryder and the rescue operator up to Lifesaver One. Ryder hung limply in the harness, giving Poppy no clue as to his condition.

  As the helicopter banked and headed inland, she thought she might be sick. She had never felt so afraid or so helpless in all her life.

  This was all her fault.

  ‘Poppy, we need to go.’

  Alex prompted her and she turned her attention back to the beach as the chopper flew out of sight. All she could do now was pray that Ryder was okay. She still felt physically sick but she had a job to do.

  Dutchy had the jet-ski idling past the breaking waves. Somehow he’d managed to get the surfer onto the rescue mat at the back of the ski and was now waiting for Jet, who was swimming towards him. They’d be bringing the patient into the beach and she and Alex had work to do.

  She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves as she and Alex grabbed kitbags and a stretcher from the ambulance and headed down to the sand.

  The surfer was able to get himself off the rescue mat and walk up the beach but Poppy and Alex went to him, ready to support him if necessary. Over the man’s shoulder Poppy mouthed a silent question to Jet. Ryder?

  She knew, even if her family wasn’t as used to lipreading as they were, that Jet would understand her question. He put the tips of his thumb and forefinger together to make a circle, extending his three other fingers.

  Okay.

  He continued to sign, relaying a silent message. Took a knock to the head, unconscious but breathing.

  He was alive.

  Poppy breathed out and the tightness in her chest dissipated ever so slightly. Injured, but alive. How badly injured, she didn’t know, but alive was better than the alternative. So much better.

  She turned her attention to the patient. He had several nasty abrasions and was in significant pain with a dislocated shoulder, but after administering pain relief they were able to stabilise him and get him from the beach to the ambulance.

  As Poppy pulled the ambulance to a stop in the emergency bay at Bondi General she could see Lily waiting with the team. She opened the rear doors and, while Alex unloaded the stretcher, she signed to Lily. Was Ryder brought here? She didn’t want to discuss Ryder in front of another patient but she was desperate for news. Sign language allowed them to have a conversation.

  Lily nodded.

  Had he regained consciousness?

  No. He’s been taken off for scans.

  Poppy longed to see him but she knew that was impossible. For now. She felt sick, completely helpless and utterly powerless.

  Will you let me know if you hear anything? Tell him I’ll be back as soon as my shift ends.

  There was nothing else she could do.

  * * *

  Poppy burst into the emergency department of Bondi General. She’d had one update from Lily to let her know that Ryder had been admitted for observation after having his scans and that he was stable but still hadn’t regained consciousness.

  She was frantic, beside herself with worry, and knew she wouldn’t relax until she’d seen him with her own eyes. Her concern was tinged with a heavy dose of guilt too. She couldn’t shake the thought that Ryder’s injury was all her fault.

  She knew it was true. If they’d gone away like Ryder had planned he wouldn’t have been in the water. He wouldn’t have been at risk.

  He wasn’t supposed to be at work—not yesterday or today. He was supposed to be away with her for the weekend.

  There was no denying she had put him in that position. She couldn’t believe she’d thought it was more important to take the extra shifts at work than to spend time with him. Now she just had to hope she’d have an opportunity to make amends.

  She saw Lily standing at the triage desk, waiting for her. Poppy didn’t break stride. ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’s sedated. The scans showed some swelling of his brain but we won’t know the full extent of his injuries until he regains consciousness.’

  ‘Can I see him?’ She was desperate. Nothing was more important to her than Ryder. Not her mortgage or her job. She’d been a fool.

  Lily nodded and led her to his bedside. His eyes were closed and he looked pale under his tan. Poppy could see bruises and abrasions on the right side of his face. He had oxygen tubing under his nose and a dressing on his right shoulder. He was hooked up to various monitors but was breathing on his own. Poppy automatically checked the monitors, making sure the numbers were reasonable as she pulled the solitary chair away from the wall and positioned it next to the bed.

  She sat down and reached for his left hand, wrapping her hands around his. She kissed his fingers and squeezed gently, hoping for a reaction, but there was nothing. He was still and silent.

  She stroked the back of his hand as tears ran down her face. ‘Ryder, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.’

  What if he didn’t regain consciousness?

  Why hadn’t she gone after him last night? Why hadn’t she been able to tell him what he’d wanted to hear? Why hadn’t she been able to tell him how she felt?

  What if she never got the chance?

  The machines beeped and lights flashed but Poppy ignored them. She was attuned to the sounds of normal rhythms and could block out anything that wasn’t sinister.

  She was an idiot. A complete idiot. She could have lost him but she refused to contemplate the fact that he might not recover. As long as he was alive she had time to make it up to him.

  She rested her head on the bed and promised she would make amends. He had no idea how important he was to her. She hadn’t told him and she certainly hadn’t shown him. ‘Please, be okay. I need you.’

  She closed her eyes a
nd held his hand and imagined that they were lying in bed together. Imagined that he was sleeping peacefully and would wake up and make love to her. She wondered if they would have that chance again.

  * * *

  Poppy was stiff and her back was aching but she was afraid to move. It had been several hours but she was afraid to let go of Ryder’s hand in case he could feel her touch. She didn’t want him to think she had left him. She didn’t intend to leave him again and would stay by his side until he woke up.

  She stood up but didn’t move away. She kept hold of his hand, keeping their connection, as she kissed his forehead. ‘I love you, Ryder. I should have told you that.’

  The words flowed easily off her tongue now but she knew she had to find the courage to tell him when he woke up.

  ‘I’ve always loved you.’ She hadn’t loved anyone else the same way. No one had ever made her feel like Ryder had but she had convinced herself that those feelings weren’t real. She’d been sixteen years old, what did a teenager know about real love? But now she understood. It had been real and she wouldn’t feel that way about anyone else. Ryder was the only man for her. She loved him and always had.

  ‘I’m scared, Ryder,’ she whispered as she sat down again. ‘Scared that you won’t love me. Scared that you’ll leave me.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  For a moment Poppy thought she’d imagined the sound of his voice but when she lifted her head she saw his eyes were open and he was looking at her.

  ‘Oh, my God.’ He was awake! ‘Are you okay?’

  Even as the words popped out of her mouth she realised it was a stupid question but before she could say anything else one of the nurses hustled in, forcing her to move away from Ryder’s side. She stepped back reluctantly as the nurse checked Ryder’s vital signs and started asking questions.