by Clare Revell
The familiar surge of adrenaline filled him. He loved his job and the fact that what he did saved lives. Climbing in the fire engine, he leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath.
Lord, be with us on this shout. Protect us, help us do our jobs to the best of our abilities. Give us the strength to save lives, to be alert and hear the weakest of cries for help. Enable me to give my best. You alone know what awaits us on this shout. If I am to lose my life, Lord, be with Niamh, and protect and comfort her. Above all, grant me the courage to sacrifice my life in the line of duty without thinking twice about it.
A hand touched his leg. He opened his eyes and looked at Phil Rodgers, the watch manager. “Yes, Sub?” It was kind of funny how they all still called him by his old rank title. The new one of ‘Watch Manager A’ didn’t have the same ring to it.
“The lads noticed you do that every time we go on a shout, but none of them wanted to ask. Tell them what you’re doing.”
“Praying.” He held the gaze of the senior officer.
Phil smiled and gave a warning glance to the young men. “Nobody’s going to mock you for doing that, least of all me. I don’t think there are many of us that don’t say the Firefighter’s Prayer every so often.”
Jared nodded and addressed the newer firemen. “And I believe what I’m saying. It’s not just words to me.”
Skippy nudged him. “Well, let’s just hope you don’t find out if God really does exist today.”
“I know He exists and meeting Him is something I am looking forward to doing. And if it’s today, then so be it. If not, I go home to Niamh, and we celebrate being alive and loved by God and her winning another case.”
The fire engine pulled to a stop outside a blazing house. “Here we go.” Jared tugged his helmet on securely and jumped out.
****
Finishing dead on five, Niamh left the office and headed through the vaulted hallway to the main door. She smiled at the security guard as she signed out. “Goodnight, Duncan. You have a good evening.”
“This came for you about half an hour ago. Young girl dropped it off.”
“Thank you.” Niamh took the envelope. Her name was printed on the front. She ripped it open. Making sure she showed no outward reaction, she smiled and nodded to Duncan. “Goodnight.”
Duncan smiled back. “Goodnight, Mrs. Harkin. You take care out there, now. Rain’s coming down real heavy.”
“I will.” Swallowing hard as bile rose in her throat, Niamh turned and headed over to the elevators. The one good thing about the underground car park was not getting wet on days like this. And it was secure, only accessible by CPS staff, another very good thing.
She pressed the down button, grateful she was the only one there. Why was she still getting these letters? OK, death threats went with the job, but this one was worse than the usual. The elevator came and she got in. Just before the doors closed, her boss, Alan Reynolds jumped in. She managed to smile at him, hoping it was enough to convince him she was fine. “You’re leaving early tonight, boss.”
He smiled, the familiar pain showing now they were alone. “I’m planning on visiting Morag before it gets too late.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Good days and bad days. She doesn’t recognize me at all now.” He sighed. “I wouldn’t wish Alzheimer’s on my worst enemy.”
“Give her my best.” Niamh screwed the note in her hand into a tight wad.
“I will.” He paused, staring at the paper. “What’s that?”
“Another one,” she admitted reluctantly.
“What does it say?”
“It’s just the usual charming threats with a new twist this time. ‘Just because Jonathan Acre is banged up, doesn’t mean you’re safe’ et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...”
Alan held his hand out for the note. “OK, that’s enough. I’m getting you protection.”
“I don’t need protection, Alan. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, I’m sure you can look after yourself, but you do need protection. I’ll organize it now. Was the note delivered here?”
“Yes. Duncan just gave it to me.” She handed it to her boss.
Alan put his finger on the hold button as the doors opened. “I will deal with this, check the CCTV, and so on. I want you to go home. Someone will pick you up in the morning. Any more contact and you come straight to me.”
Niamh opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
“No debate. I’m not risking the life of the best prosecutor we have. Niamh, you’re up for a judgeship and therefore have to take extra precautions and follow the rules. Just let us do our jobs as well as you do yours. Goodnight.”
Niamh smiled. She’d learnt a long time ago, that when Alan was in that mood, you just nodded, said “Yes Sir”, and left him to it. “Goodnight.” She exited the elevator and crossed to her car. The lights flashed, the beep-beep echoing in the silent garage. She got in and shoved the CD into the player. A compilation of hymns from her computer at home, she’d picked ones that made good driving music. Whacking up the volume full blast, she started the car and headed to the exit, singing as she drove.
The windscreen wipers didn’t make much impression on the torrential downpour as Niamh drove along the main road. The lights ahead of her were red, and she changed down a gear, water spraying high on each side of the car, as she went through a deep puddle. There was a squeal of brakes behind her. Niamh glanced in the mirror horrified as the black car behind swerved in an arc as it aquaplaned. It slammed into hers, pushing it towards the junction.
A scream escaped her lips as she frantically stamped on the brakes. The pedal went straight to the floor and nothing happened. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a huge lorry bearing down on her.
Her breath caught, heart pounding, stomach plummeting as she knew in an instant the driver wouldn’t be able to stop in time. His horn filled the air, echoing, as the impact jolted her forwards, flipping the car into the air and over.
Niamh flung her hands in front of her face as the windscreen shattered. She wasn’t quick enough to prevent the glass from flying into her cheeks and forehead. She screamed as red hot pain flooded her body, everything spinning as the car flipped twice more before landing on its side. It teetered back and forth for a moment before finally righting with a spine jerking thud. Then she fell headlong into the blackness of oblivion.
2
Jared sat in the fire engine as it raced along the wet roads, blue lights flashing and sirens blaring. Forty minutes before the shift ends and we get called to a shout. A car crash was hardly surprising in this weather. People drove like maniacs, ignoring road conditions and other vehicles and the fact they couldn’t see out of the windscreen due to the driving rain. The traffic around them slowed as they got closer to the pile up.
The fire engine stopped and the firefighters jumped out. A police officer came over to them, his yellow reflective jacket pulled over his uniform. Water dripped off his hat. Phil looked at him. “Hey, Pete. What have we got?”
“Five cars and a lorry. From what we can tell, the black car aquaplaned into the red one sending it into the path of the lorry, and it escalated from there. Driver of the blue car is dead. The lorry driver is shaken, but unhurt. The lady in the red car is trapped. She’s alive, but non-responsive. The other drivers are trapped, but talking. The paramedics haven’t got here yet.”
Phil nodded. “Jared, Steve, start unloading. We’ll need cutting gear, combi-tools, and the trauma care kit. Jared, I want you to supervise Steve.”
“Sure thing.” Jared glanced over at the red car. Same model as Niamh’s. He pulled open the side of the fire engine and grabbed the equipment. He glanced at Steve, the probationer. “Have you ever done one of these?”
Steve shook his head. “In training, yeah, but not for real.”
“There’s a first time for everything. Nothing to it. Just remember what they taught you. And if you forget, don’t be afraid to a
sk. No such thing as a stupid question.”
Steve smiled. “Thanks.”
Jared shouldered the gear. “Don’t mention it.” He headed towards the smashed vehicles, the oil and petrol from shattered engines and tanks, mixing with the rain water. Other firefighters started running out hose having considered the high risk of fire. He could hear them talking and equipment buzzing, the normal sounds of a shout mixing with what he knew he had to do.
He got closer to the red car. The woman lay slumped over the steering wheel, black hair stained red with blood. He looked at Steve. “Did you bring the trauma care kit?”
“No.”
“Go get it. That way we can start treating her until the paramedics arrive.”
Steve nodded and ran back to the fire engine. Jared smiled and then moved closer to the car. Though the teeming rain he could make out the start of the number plate in the tangled wreckage. ROO. The rest of the plate was torn off.
It’s the same as Niamh’s. Don’t be silly. There are probably a thousand red cars that start ROO, if not more than that.
He got closer and suddenly the Station Manager, Brad Peters was there, blocking his path. “Jared…”
Jared looked at him. The look on the Guv’s face said it all. Oh, God, no, please… “Guv?”
“I’m sorry. It’s Niamh.”
Nausea and sheer panic filled him. Dropping the equipment to the ground, Jared moved as if in fire or lime. Everything slowed down, voices and sounds echoing. He shook off the arm that held him, his whole being determined to get to her, his eyes fixed on the wreck. Somewhere in that tortured and twisted hunk of metal was his wife.
“N-n-n-i-i-a-a-m-m-h-h-h.”
Two firefighters caught him as he neared the car. “No, no. Jared, don’t.”
“Is she dead?”
Please, God, don’t let her be dead.
He looked at them desperate for them to say no.
“She’s unconscious.”
“I want to be with her.” He tore away and strode to the car. People moved around him. More sirens echoed as paramedics and additional fire engines arrived. Reaching the car, he leaned in through the shattered window. “Niamh? Baby, can you hear me?” He touched her face, but there was no response.
An ice cold spear pierced his heart and soul. He couldn’t lose her.
God, please, let her be all right.
He looked around. “There’s no response. I’m going in.” He slipped and slid his way around the car and pulled at the passenger door. It was unlocked and he started to haul it open.
“Wait,” Brad said looking at him. “Phil, run a hose out here, just in case. Jared, you don’t go in there until the chocks are in position to stabilize the car.”
Jared bristled and opened his mouth to object.
Brad cut him off. “I mean it. If you can’t do that, then you sit this one out. Over there in the fire engine. You know the rules, Jared, and I’m not breaking them for anyone. That includes you.”
“Yes, Guv.” Jared grabbed one of the chocks, helping set it in position so that the car wouldn’t move when he entered or when they began cutting into it. It seemed to take forever until the car was secured. He pulled at the passenger door until it opened. Knocking the glass from the seat to the floor, he slid sideways into the car, and somehow managed to squeeze his large frame into the tiny space between the seat and the crumpled dashboard. He pulled off his glove and tucked it inside his jacket. “OK.”
He touched the side of her neck and looked at the Guv through the broken driver’s window. “Pulse is weak.” He ran his hands down her body. “The dashboard is pushing down on her and the steering column is crushed against her legs. It’s going to be a ’mare getting her out.” He pulled his hand up quickly as it got wet. He looked at it. Red blood dripped from his fingers. “She’s bleeding out. I can’t tell where it’s coming from. I think she’s time critical.”
The Guv turned away, barking instructions.
Jared tuned him out and wiped his fingers on his fire kit. He knew she was unconscious, but also knew hearing was the last sense to go. “OK hon, I’m going to put my hands around your neck to keep it steady. I need you to stay still for me. Then we’re going to cut the car to pieces so we can get you out.”
Steve looked in at him through the window. “Guv says she’s your wife. The lads want me to tell you they’ll not rest until she’s out and safe.”
Jared looked at him. “There are other people trapped, too. I don’t want any favors done on my account.”
Skippy laughed from the other side as he put a thick fire retardant cloth over Jared and Niamh. “You ought to be grateful she’s unconscious, mate. Otherwise she’d hit you for that comment. Like that will happen, anyway. She’s one of us. We’ll get her out. There are other crews working on the other cars. We’re going to smash all the glass first, then cut off the windscreen, and then the roof so the paramedics can check her over and we can see where this steering column is at.”
“OK, I got her.” Jared held Niamh gently as his colleagues started working on the car. She still hadn’t said a word, and her pulse slowed each time he took it.
God, please overrule in this situation. Guide the hands of those working to free the people trapped. Not just Niamh, but all of them.
He looked down at his wife. “Niamh, can you hear me?”
There was still no response. The car suddenly jerked, and a blast of cold air and rain flooded the too warm compartment as the roof came off and was lifted away. The roar and chugging of the spreaders stopped, the silence almost as deafening.
The cover pulled back and a man in a green fluorescent jacket stood there. “I’m Ray Harper, one of the doctors from Headley General ED. I came out with the paramedics.”
Jared nodded. “Jared Harkin. I’m her husband, but here because I’m working. I wasn’t expecting this when we got the shout.”
“I’m sorry, mate. What’s her name?”
“Niamh. She’s thirty-six, not allergic to anything, perfectly healthy.”
“Is she pregnant?”
Jared shook his head. Children weren’t an option now, for either of them. After Dayna they’d both said no more. “No.” He held Niamh’s neck firmly as Dr. Harper started checking her over. He looked down at his wife. “Niamh, please wake up.”
Phil tapped Jared on the shoulder. “I need to know how badly she’s trapped. You up to doing that?”
Jared nodded. “Put a collar on her so I can move my hands.”
Once that was done, he reached down feeling between the steering column and Niamh’s legs. He closed his eyes for a moment, his stomach dropping. It wasn’t good. No, make that it was worse than he’d first realized. He glanced up at the others. “The whole dash has moved. There’s a centimeter, maybe two fingers width at the top. Nothing below mid-calf.” He looked at his hand as he pulled it free. “Blood loss is increasing. We’re just going to have to do it.”
Dr. Harper finished setting up the IV. “You release that dashboard and steering column, and she may just bleed out. If you don’t know where the blood’s coming from she could crash almost instantly.”
Despair flared within Jared, making him short tempered. “I know that! I’m no medic, but from what I can tell, it could be her femoral artery. We don’t have an option as she’ll bleed out anyway.” He looked at Brad. “Tell them to do it, Guv. We delay and we lose her.”
Brad held his gaze for a long moment, and then nodded. “OK. Maybe it’s time for more of your prayers.”
Jared looked at him. “I haven’t stopped since we got here.”
“Good. Out you get. Now.”
“But, Guv—”
“Out. Skippy will sit with her.”
Jared nodded and climbed out. He caught Skippy’s arm. “Take care of her.”
“Of course.” Skippy clambered into the remains of the car.
Jared stood as close as he dared and kept praying while Dr. Harper made his final check. Rain dripped off his
helmet, masking the tears in his eyes.
Dr. Harper turned back to the firefighters. “OK. If you’re going to do this, start now. She’s stable, but I can’t say for how long, so move quickly.”
Jared watched on tenterhooks as his colleagues worked to remove the steering column. With a crunch and shriek of twisted metal it finally moved.
Skippy raised his hand and yelled. “Doc! She’s crashing…”
Jared’s heart sank into his boots. He started to run, but strong arms held him back. Things slowed down. His hands waved and his voice echoed as he desperately tried to get to Niamh.
****
Voices permeated the thick fog surrounding her. Niamh struggled to wake despite the stabbing pain, and she moaned as she fought to open her eyes. It would be better to keep sleeping, and she closed her eyes again. She was drowning in a sea of pain and darkness.
Distorted images flooded her mind. A car spinning, a lorry, brakes squealing behind her. A thud as her brake pedal uselessly hit the floor over and over again. Children frolicked in a playground, laughing and calling to each other. A young child sat on a swing, her long blonde hair spreading out behind her as she flew through the air. “Faster Mummy. Make me go faster. I want to fly.”
A small white coffin, bearing a gold plaque engraved with the name Dayna, and an unbearable ache filled her heart, then more pain and so much noise. A weight suddenly lifted. Someone shouted from a great distance. Was it her name? She didn’t know. For a moment there was darkness, and then gentle arms surrounded her, bearing her towards a bright white light.
She’d never known such peace and stillness, yet at the same time there was a rustle and flapping like wings on a bird. Another voice spoke, a kind and gentle voice that filled her with peace and hope, cradling her in love. “It’s not your time, go back to him. He needs you.”
