by Marta Perry
Not the hospital wing as she’d last seen it. The side walls still jutted upward, red brick catching the afternoon sun. But the central section was a jumble of concrete slabs, girders, twisted metal and unidentifiable rubble.
Her heart wrenched painfully. She didn’t need anyone to draw a diagram for her. A bomb had gone off right in the center of the addition, probably just when people had gathered for the ribbon-cutting.
How many had been inside? She’d seen situations like this before, but this time, the victims might well be people she knew, people she cared about.
She screeched to a halt behind the EMT vehicle. A cop started toward her, glaring, and then seemed to recognize her as she and Angel jumped out. He waved them toward a cluster of police and fire vehicles.
“Command center’s over there.”
She ran toward the group, her gaze searching the crowd held back by police lines. Surely she’d spot Ken’s and Quinn’s tall figures if they were there. She didn’t. Her heart clenched painfully.
She reached the fire department liaison to the search-and-rescue team. Thank the Lord it was someone they’d worked with before, someone who knew what they could do. He swung toward her, face grim.
“How bad?” She forced the question through a painful throat.
“No confirmed fatalities yet. They had a warning—got most of the crowd out.”
One of her team members tossed her a pair of coveralls, and she began pulling them on automatically. Angel pressed against her, tense with excitement.
Ken—where was Ken? “Do we know how many are still in there?”
“Not sure. One of the security guards was the last man out before it blew. He says when he came out, Quinn Montgomery was still in the rotunda, along with Ken Vance and a couple other people. They’d been directing the evacuation.”
Of course they had. That’s exactly what they would have done, and so they’d been right in the middle of things when the blast went off. Ken—she couldn’t let herself think of him, of Quinn, of anything or anyone except the job at hand.
“Any evidence of life?” She forced the words to come out evenly as she clipped a radio to her belt.
He shook his head. “Nothing yet.” He patted Angel’s head. “We know what you can do. We’re counting on you.”
She was already orienting herself to the debris field. She had an advantage this time that she didn’t have ordinarily—she’d been in the building. If the guard was right, she knew where they’d be.
Still, it always paid to conduct the search by the book. Nobody wanted to make a stupid mistake out of rushing past usual procedures.
Blueprints spread on the hood of a car, she went over the search site with her team. Four pairs of handlers and dogs, counting her and Angel, and one pair was Lisa and Queenie, who’d never done a real search. Others were on their way, but time was precious. They couldn’t afford to wait.
The teams spread out, moving to their appointed zones. Lisa’s hand was clutched in Queenie’s fur, but she seemed steady enough. This wasn’t what she’d have chosen for their first experience, but everyone had to go in for the first time. Juli gave her a reassuring thumbs-up as she signaled the teams to go to their assigned zones.
She and Angel moved forward. Suddenly the terror that she’d been holding at bay broke loose, clawing at her with sharp nails. Angel whined, pressing against her, sensing the fear. Images spun through her mind, dark images of death, of loss, of failure—
No. She wouldn’t let this stop her. Ken was in there. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t die without hearing that she loved him.
Please, Father. Please. If I never do another search, I have to do this one. Please.
She pressed her eyes closed for an instant, then opened them, steadied. She signaled for Angel to begin.
With that small movement, something powerful surged through her. The link with Angel pulsed to life, as if God’s hand was on them, guiding them.
Angel felt it, too. With a joyful bark she bounded forward.
Coughing, choking, Ken clawed his way to consciousness. His head was splitting, and his eyes—
Had he lost his sight entirely? He touched his face, his head, feeling rubble shift off his body as he moved.
With the movement came memory. The bomb. They’d assumed they had time to get out. They hadn’t.
“Quinn!” He forced the word out, choking on it. “You here, buddy?”
The only answer was a groan, somewhere nearby. A groan. That was good, wasn’t it? It meant someone was alive.
He tried to stand. His head collided with something and pain ricocheted through him. His stomach twisted. Okay. Stay on his knees. Think. He had to see. If he could see, he could help.
He fumbled in his pockets. Who else had been near him when the blast went off? Quinn. And Jay. His heart clenched. Jay was just a kid with his whole life in front of him. He’d risked that life trying to save others.
His fingers closed on his key ring with the dangling penlight Mom had put in his Christmas stocking. Silly, he’d thought then, to fill a stocking for a grown man. Now he thanked God for it.
He switched on the light. A small, feeble beam, but enough. Anything was better than being trapped in the dark. He shifted the light around, his breath catching.
It looked like the whole thing had come down around them, but the staircase, Quinn’s beautiful, strong central staircase had withstood the blast enough to create a small cavern, sheltering them.
A pile of rubble shifted. Quinn groped his way into the light. “What—what happened?” He clutched his chest.
“We didn’t get out before the blast.” Ken crawled toward him. “You okay?”
Quinn grimaced. “Feels like a couple broken ribs, maybe. Otherwise in one piece.” He moved, groaning slightly. “Who else?”
Ken swung the light around. “Jay.” He scrambled toward the boy, desperately shifting debris off him, feeling for a pulse. “He’s alive. Unconscious. I can’t tell how badly he’s hurt.”
“Someone over here.” Debris rustled. He heard Quinn’s moan. “It’s Colleen.”
Quinn’s cousin. Ken tried to keep his voice steady. “Is she breathing?”
Quinn bent over the motionless form. “Yes.” His voice caught on a sob. “Yes. But she needs help. They both do. We have to get them out of here.”
We have to get them out of here. The words rang in Ken’s head. They had to. He had to. Quinn was doubling up with pain every time he moved. It was up to him to do something.
Help me. Not for myself. For them. Help me find a way to save them.
His heart winced at the thought of all the prayers he’d expended raging at God for what had happened to him. Stupid. He’d been so stupid. As if that mattered now.
Forgive me, Father. I’ve been so selfish. Use me now. Use me to help them. Please, use me.
“Ken?” Quinn’s voice sounded weaker.
“Hold on.” He swung the light around, looking for something that would tell him which way to go.
There—that surely was one of the pillars that supported the rotunda. It still stood, choked with rubble. At its base, there seemed to be a narrow opening formed by a couple of large slabs of concrete.
No way of knowing whether it would lead anywhere or not, but at least it looked like a possible way out. He set the penlight on a concrete slab.
“Do what you can for Colleen and Jay. I’m going to see if I can find a way out of here.”
He crawled to the space, poking at the hole experimentally. Loose rubble shifted, but the concrete slabs seemed stable enough. He thought of Juli and Angel, searching the broken remains of buildings, pulling people to safety.
Are they looking for us now, Lord? Keep them safe, if they are.
The words Juli had said to him yesterday echoed in his mind again. “Hold on to what is good. Hold on to what you believe. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here.”
His heart seemed to swell. He started to dig.
SIXTEEN
Angel had a scent. She stood on a pile of rubble, barking furiously, triumphantly, her tail waving. Juli’s heart leapt as she waved to the fire department team that stood waiting, ready to dig.
They scrambled toward her. Their expressions told their story—all they wanted was to do anything, including dig with their bare hands if necessary—to pull someone alive out of the rubble.
Juli’s radio crackled. Lisa’s voice, excited but confident and sure. “We’ve got something—I can hear voices.”
Juli exchanged glances with the first firefighters to reach her. They’d heard, too.
Alive. They were getting someone out alive. Lisa was working the side of the building, near the stairwell that had nearly killed Juli that day. Maybe today it had been an escape hatch for someone.
Angel was digging furiously, and Juli had to pull her back physically so that the firefighters had room to dig. She held the dog, feeling the frantic beating of Angel’s heart, and tendrils of hope blossomed.
Angel wanted a live find—every search dog lived for that. But she’d never acted this way before. Was it because the scent she caught was of someone she knew?
Please, Father. Please.
From the street, she heard a murmur go through the crowd. She stepped atop a slab of concrete so she could see, shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight.
They were coming out—Lisa, Queenie, the firefighters who’d assisted her—and they had victims with them. The crowd burst into applause. They were walking—three of them, dust-covered but safe.
Thank You, God. Thank You.
None of the figures was tall enough to be Quinn or Ken, but someone’s prayers had been answered today.
A firefighter emerged from the hole. “Looks like a natural tunnel but too small for us. You want to let the dog see if she picks anything up inside?”
Juli jumped down, nodding. The others cleared away. Angel charged into the opening, heedless of the rough concrete that must be cutting her paws. Juli slid in behind her, switching on her light.
They were right—it did look as if the fall had created a kind of natural tunnel. Angel, whining, crept forward.
Juli touched her radio. “She thinks there’s something in here. We’re going a little farther.”
Deeper, deeper. She couldn’t let herself think of the tons of concrete poised over her. If she thought of that, she’d never go in.
The tunnel narrowed. Angel was crawling on her belly now. So was she. No one else on the team was small enough to get into this space. It had to be her.
Please, Lord.
Angel barked suddenly, the noise painful in the enclosed space.
Juli reached her, feeling the excitement that vibrated through her. “Okay, girl. Okay. Take it easy. You don’t want to bring it down on us.”
Rubble shifted next to her, and for a panicked moment she thought the tunnel was collapsing. And then a hand came groping through the loose concrete—a hand that clasped hers, that she’d know even in the darkest night.
Ken.
Her fingers wrapped around his, prayers of thanksgiving blossoming in her heart. “Ken. Are you all right?”
He clenched her hand warmly. “I knew it would be you. I heard the dog and knew it would be you.”
“Thank God. Thank God.” It was all she could say, all she could think. Thank You, Father.
“Yes.” Ken’s voice was hoarse with the dust he must be inhaling. “Thank God.”
Angel, wriggling in the confined space, managed to lick their entwined fingers. Ken chuckled, the soft sound reassuring her.
“Yes, Angel, I’m glad you’re here. Good girl. When we get out, I’m going to buy you the biggest steak I can find.”
She forced her mind to concentrate. Get out. This wasn’t over yet. She fumbled for the radio.
“Are you hurt? Is anyone with you?”
“I’m okay. Quinn’s probably got some broken ribs, but he’s moving around. Colleen and Jay are in here, too.” His voice changed, roughened. “They’re both hurt. I don’t know how badly.”
“Don’t worry. We’re going to get you out.”
Please, God, we’re going to get them out.
She relayed the information to the waiting rescue party, knowing that would pitch them into high gear. The problem they confronted was how to get the survivors out without causing a collapse.
“Ken, anything you can tell us about the situation will help us reach you. Can you widen this hole enough to get through?”
But even as she asked the question, she knew it was useless. Slabs of concrete lay at an angle, leaving only enough space for his hand to reach through. And the tunnel through which she’d come was too small for his broad shoulders.
“Not a chance,” he said. “We’re in a pocket under the central stairwell, and that seems pretty stable. If they can pull away the stuff beyond the stairwell area, I think we’ll be okay.”
She ought to back away so that Ken couldn’t hear the conversation on the radio, but she couldn’t seem to let go of his hand. Besides, this wasn’t just any victim. This was Ken, a trained Air Force officer. He knew how to assess risks, and he didn’t need to be coddled.
This time Steve Aigner, the liaison, came on. He listened to Ken’s assessment of the situation.
“Okay, we’re going to talk it over and get back to you with a plan of attack. Juli, you okay where you are?”
“Sure thing.” She wouldn’t leave, not as long as she could hold on to Ken’s hand.
His fingers tightened on hers, as if he read her thoughts. “You ought to get out. You can’t do anything more here. Just leave the radio with me.”
“No chance.” She tried for a lightness she didn’t feel. “This thing belongs to the team. I’m not letting a civilian have it.”
“Liar.” He squeezed her hand again. “I want your promise that you’ll get out before they start digging. Promise me, Juli.”
She wouldn’t have a choice, when it came to that. She’d be in the way of the rescue if she stayed. “I promise.”
“Okay.” He fell silent for a moment—long enough for her to wonder if he were injured and not telling her. “I wanted to tell you—when I realized we were trapped, I knew that all the things I’d been angry with God about—the accident, not flying again—they didn’t matter if only God could use me to help get the others out.”
She struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. “You’re doing that. If you hadn’t broken through, we might not have known where you were.”
Until it was too late. She wouldn’t say that.
His fingers rubbed hers. “I remembered that blessing you said to me yesterday. It helped.”
Now she really couldn’t speak. What would he think if she told him the rest of it?
The radio crackled to life. “Juli? Listen, we’re all set. We’ll be able to use heavy equipment to clear some of the debris now that we know where they are.”
She knew what he was really saying. That with two people possibly badly injured, time was of the essence. They’d have to take the risk.
“Okay, Steve. I understand.”
“Tell them to get back under the stairwell as much as possible. And you and Angel get out here now. We’re not starting until you’re clear. I mean it.”
“Will do. Ken, you heard?”
“Right.” His hand moved in hers. “Go on. You and Angel get out.”
“One thing first.” She pressed his fingers against her cheek. “When I told you that blessing, I didn’t tell you all of it. I want to say it now.”
“I’d like that.” His voice was very soft.
Her heart thudded in her chest, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “Hold on to what is good. Hold on to what you believe. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here. Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go. Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.” She took a breath. “I love you, Ken.”
She slid ba
ckwards, leading Angel, not waiting for a response.
An eternity later she reached the surface, sliding out, lifted in the arms of the waiting crew. Angel came after her, limping a little now that her role was done. One of the firefighters picked up Angel, carrying her cradled in his arms to the waiting vet.
Juli followed, scrambling over the rocky surface. She had to get clear so that the rescue work could begin. She’d barely reached the emergency vehicles when someone grabbed her.
“Juli!” Holly’s face was white. “Is it true? They’re alive?”
It wasn’t her job to notify victims’ families, but she could hardly rob her friend of the reassurance she so desperately needed.
“I talked to Ken. They’re okay.” She hugged Holly. “Listen, you shouldn’t be standing here. Come over here and sit down. There’s nothing we can do now but wait.”
“And pray.” Holly nodded. Beyond the rope keeping back the spectators, Juli saw Pastor Gabriel with a group of people from the church and members of the Montgomery and Vance families, holding hands, heads bowed.
Her throat seemed to close. They’d undoubtedly been holding her in their prayers, as they would every rescue worker and victim. Sometime she’d tell them exactly how much that had meant today.
But now…now she could only watch as the heavy equipment—Quinn’s heavy equipment, still present, thank the Lord—began moving the debris, bringing Ken and the others closer and closer to freedom.
“I tell you, I’m fine.” Ken snatched his shirt back from the emergency room nurse who kept trying to take it. Beyond the curtain he spotted Adam Montgomery, Quinn’s cousin. “Listen, Dr. Montgomery will tell you.” He gestured to Adam. “Tell them to let me go.”
Adam pushed the curtain aside. “It’s okay,” he told the nurse, smiling. “There’s nothing wrong with him but bad manners.”
She let go, and he shoved his arm into a sleeve, wincing a little at some bruises he hadn’t known were there. “What’s going on? No one will tell me anything.”
Adam shrugged. “You’ll have to talk to Sam for the police side. I can only tell you the medical news.”
