The Nurse's Rescue

Even when her phone call to the motel unit had been unanswered, Jessica hadn’t worried unduly. Her empathy during the initial briefing when she’d heard of parents panicking about their missing children had been no more than automatic, and there had been no time for personal worries once her team had entered the scene for their first active duty. The experience had been so far out of Jessica’s normal realm it should have been overwhelming, but she had astonished herself by coping with everything. Picking her way through the rubble of partially destroyed shops. Dealing with the extrication and treatment of the two survivors they had found. Even coping with the bodies being removed from near the tunnel that led to the basement car park. Coping until she had recognised one of the victims, that was.

Her own mother.

The woman who had raised her entirely unaided. Who had provided for and protected her as the only focus of her life. And who had been there for her when history had repeated itself and Jessica had found herself pregnant and abandoned.

The shock of recognition had been overwhelming. Jessica had never fainted in her life but she’d come within a whisker of losing consciousness at that instant. The incentive to overcome the shock had been all that had kept her upright as others had taken her mother away, but it had been enough to keep her on the front line until the area had been officially deemed clear. No more victims had been trapped when that section had collapsed.

So where was her son?

Had they been going towards or away from the car park? And why? Jessica knew the answer to that. Ricky was never happier than when he could indulge his passion for cars by looking at the real thing. Why hadn’t they chosen the outside car park to wander in? And what had happened during the collapse or the seconds leading up to it? Had Ricky been small and fast enough to run clear as the roof caved in? Had he found a space in a nearby shop to hide or was he beyond or beneath the tunnel, which was still totally inaccessible—a solid barrier to the car park that would need a bulldozer or crane to clear. A barrier that was now well away from where Jessica was. She wanted to turn and run. To try and find a path that would lead her closer to where she thought Ricky could be.

‘Jess? Are you OK?’

‘Sure.’ Grateful for the block to the threatened emotional tidal wave, Jessica gave Joe a grimly determined smile.

‘Watch yourself while we’re climbing. Keep three points of contact with the rubble at all times.’

Jessica nodded. She had been too close to losing her grip just then. So close she hadn’t noticed her team was about to start searching a mound of rubble that blocked the end of the mall leading away from the food court.

‘Position yourselves one metre apart,’ Tony directed. ‘We’re hoping to get past this quickly but we’ll do a line and hail search as we cross.’

Heavy machinery within the vicinity had been shut down. Jessica tested a length of timber protruding from the pile in front of her and then used it as an anchor so that she could lean as close to the debris as possible. She waited her turn, listening as others in the line made their calls.

‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’

The silence was punctuated by the sound of someone firing up an air hammer and the shouts of someone else curtailing the noisy activity. Bryan had to repeat his call and then wait for a new period of quiet to listen for a possible response.

‘Nothing heard,’ he reported.

June was the next in line. ‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’

There was another short silence. ‘Nothing heard.’

Jessica’s turn came and went with the same result and then they moved forward and up. Joe’s foot slipped as he pushed himself higher. Glass shattered and something metallic dislodged itself with a clang.

‘You OK?’

‘Yeah.’ Joe steadied himself and Jessica could see the edges of a smile around the mask. ‘You?’

Jessica simply nodded. The chain of calls had started again.

‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’

When Jessica moved again, her gloved hand caught what appeared to be a piece of fabric.

‘Oh, God,’ she muttered. Was this clothing from a buried victim? Joe’s head turned sharply.

‘Pull on it,’ he advised.

Jessica pulled and the empty sleeve of a garment appeared amidst a shower of dust.

‘There’s part of a clothing store in here,’ Joe nodded. ‘Bits of fabric are sticking out all over the place. I think there have been a few false alarms.’

The next move took the team over the top of the relatively small mound of debris. As they completed the unsuccessful line and hail search a radio message from Tony prompted a new wave of noise as machinery started up again. New teams of rescue workers went into action. A wire bucket brigade would remove the small pieces of rubble from the mound until they could be absolutely certain any victims had been located. Then a bobcat would probably move in to clear another area of floor space.

They had to stop and wait now as Tony checked with the engineers and safety officers who had been scouting the area beyond the mound, looking for any signs of secondary collapse and testing the atmosphere for pockets of gas which would make the area too dangerous for the USAR team to enter. There seemed to be some question of how safe it was to continue, judging by the length of time the briefing was taking.

Jessica looked around, using her headlamp as a torch and trying to make her own assessment of the collapse patterns she saw nearby. Internal walls had fallen in one shop but the ceiling was still there. She could see the cracks in the slab of concrete that presumably had had the weight of a second-storey shop on it and was now without much of its support from below. The internal walls had fallen towards each other, giving a cantilevered collapse pattern. The possibility of voids large enough to contain survivors was high but the danger from that ceiling was also high. Was that what Tony and the others were trying to weigh up?

Apparently it was. An even longer wait allowed timber to be brought in to provide more support for the ceiling. Jessica watched, trying to stay focused and not allowing her thoughts to turn inwards, but it was difficult. She felt more than tired. An edge of sheer exhaustion was trying to move in and she found herself hoping they might be getting near the end of their shift. Trying to estimate the length of time they had been in here was not easy but she figured it had to be somewhere between one and three hours.

The shoring team had their routine well established now and once they started cutting and fitting the solid framing progress seemed much faster. Manageable-sized pieces of debris were removed from what appeared to be a party supplies shop. They were all startled by the release of some brightly coloured helium balloons that floated overhead, looking incongruously festive, but the balloons were ignored as the opening to a void was discovered.

‘Rescue team here. Can you hear me?’ It was Tony who put his face into the opening.

The silence seemed longer than the customary fifteen to twenty seconds. Jessica saw Tony rearrange his position and then reach into the void. His head and shoulders vanished. The team waited and Jessica found her exhaustion receding as the tension mounted. Had Tony found something? Was it an adult…or a child?

Tony’s legs wriggled and he backed out of the space. He signalled the knot of army personnel standing nearby. USAR 3 stepped closer as well.

‘There’s someone in here and I think they’re alive, but I can only reach the top of the head and one arm. We need to clear the debris to give our medics access.’

They worked fast, galvanised by the adrenaline rush that came with the possibility they might have found a survivor. Wire baskets were filled with smaller pieces of debris and passed along the human chain the army had provided. The team from Civil Defence assessed and moved larger pieces that could be managed without machinery. The concrete slab which had provided the roof of the void was cut into sections with hydraulic gear. They couldn’t remove it all without endangering the victim beneath but they tried to clear enough to give access for extrication. The noise was horrendous and the conditions became steadily more cramped as extra personnel and equipment were ferried in from outside. Jessica stood near Joe beside a Stokes basket laden with medical supplies. The solid plastic stretcher basket was large enough to hold a lot of gear, for which Joe and Jessica were thankful as soon as they got close enough to touch their patient. They were going to need all their skills and supplies to make this a successful mission.

The victim was a man, possibly in his early forties, and he was deeply unconscious.

‘Secure the airway, Jess and get some oxygen on. Fifteen litres with a high-concentration mask.’

The rubble obscuring their patient’s legs was still being removed as the medics started work. Joe checked the chest and abdomen while Jessica slid a hard, moulded tube into the man’s mouth to protect his airway. She wiggled an oxygen mask into place and attached the tubing to the portable cylinder before opening the valve.

‘June, could you fish a cervical collar out of the Stokes basket for me, please?’

‘Grab that roll of IV supplies as well,’ Joe added. He looked up at Jessica. ‘No major trauma visible here—he’s been remarkably well protected. He’s still as flat as a pancake, though. Blood pressure’s non-palpable for both radial and brachial pulses. What’s the carotid like?’

‘Fast and weak.’ Jessica took her fingers away from the patient’s throat to take the collar from June.

‘I’ll get an IV in this side. Can you put one in his other arm?’

‘Sure.’ Jessica did up the Velcro straps to hold the collar in place and then reached for supplies. Tourniquet, alcohol swab, cannula and luer plug. The clarity with which her mind could click into gear in conditions like this would have astonished Jessica if she’d stepped back mentally to assess her performance but, of course, she never had. The response to any critical situation was the same whether it was a cardiac arrest at the home of one of her regular patients, a roadside effort at the scene of a high-speed car crash or—what would have been unthinkable even twenty-four hours ago—trapped in a tiny space inside a collapsed shopping precinct. It was as though someone else took over her mind and body during an emergency. And Jessica loved being that person.

The man’s veins were completely flat because of the shocked condition of their patient. Even going for the normally easily accessible ante-cubital vein in the elbow was a blind stab, and Jessica was relieved to see the flashback in the cannula chamber that indicated successful entry. She reached for a bag of saline and a giving set to start fluids but Joe shook his head.

‘Hold fire for a second, Jess. Let’s get him into the basket so we can get set up for moving faster.’

They slid a backboard into place after a struggle to cope in the confined space. Then they began to slide the man clear with assistance from the rest of the team.

‘Stop!’ Joe’s command was urgent. ‘His foot’s caught.’

Joe reached to move the obstruction, leaning closer to provide more light with his headlamp. He swore loudly. ‘The foot’s caught,’ he repeated grimly. ‘It’s been crushed under the edge of this slab. It’s half-severed at the ankle and he’s bleeding like a stuck pig again now.’

Jessica ripped open a large dressing package and crawled closer. She pressed the wad onto the wound and pushed—hard.

‘This’ll be where the major blood loss has come from, I guess. It must have finally stopped by itself or he’d be dead by now.’

‘We’ve opened it up again by trying to move him out.’ Joe was nodding as he poked at the debris trapping the man’s foot. Then he signalled to Tony. ‘There’s no way we can shift this by hand. We’ll have to get the concrete cutter back. Heaven knows how we’re going to shift what’s on top of this piece. I don’t want anything falling on our patient. He’s sick enough as it is.’

Tony looked as grim as Joe. ‘It’s not going to be easy. Or quick.’

‘It’ll have to be quick. He’s running out of time unless we can get him somewhere with advanced resuscitation facilities.’

Jessica was monitoring their patient’s breathing and she didn’t like what she could see. ‘I’m going to start IPPV,’ she told Joe. ‘His breathing’s deteriorating and it’s too shallow now.’ Reaching for a bag mask, Jessica switched the tubing from the portable oxygen cylinder. She fitted the mask to the man’s face and began assisting his inhalations by periodically squeezing the bag attached to the mask.

Shouting from nearby increased. Three sharp whistle blasts punctuated the dust-laden atmosphere. For whatever reason, the signal to evacuate the scene had been given and suddenly the tension was more than anyone wanted to deal with. The wire basket brigade melted away. Cutting gear that was being shifted towards Joe’s position was put down and personnel turned and moved swiftly away. The Civil Defence squad leader moved in just as swiftly.

‘There’s some new cracks appearing. This sector’s unstable. You’re going to have to evacuate. Now!’

Joe simply nodded. He reached for the shears in his belt and Jessica’s jaw dropped as she saw what he intended to do.

‘He was going to lose this foot anyway,’ Joe said tersely. ‘At least this way he might not lose his life.’

The noise level around them was dropping dramatically as equipment was abandoned and people ran for safety. In the few seconds of silence that accompanied Joe’s gruesome task of completing the amputation of their patient’s right foot, Jessica heard a new sound. A terrifying, inhuman kind of moan. It wasn’t loud but it was enough to make the hairs on Jessica’s neck stand on end and a prickle of perspiration break out down the length of her spine. Something—something huge—was shifting fractionally.

Just fractionally—but how far did it need to move to lose its last hold on stability? How many minutes, or seconds, might they have before that critical point was reached and the space they were in was swallowed up by forces they would have no chance to escape?

Joe tied a pressure bandage on the man’s leg to finish the fastest procedure Jessica had ever witnessed. ‘Let’s move,’ he barked.

Other hands grabbed the backboard and deposited it without ceremony in the Stokes basket. No time was taken for any kind of strapping. They all knew they had to get going. And they had to move fast. Medical supplies were abandoned, along with all the other rescue gear littering the area. The men carrying the basket were moving at a stumbling run that looked deceptively easy to keep up with. Jessica lurched, turning her ankle on the edge of some rubble, but the heavy boot saved her from injury and she kept going, not even pausing as she glanced over her shoulder to where Joe and Tony were bringing up the rear of the rapidly moving procession.

Back into the entrance to the food court and the moaning sound was heard again. This time it became a groan that ended in a crack like gunfire. Tony’s expletive only echoed Jessica’s more private reaction. She could see what had been the hamburger restaurant and it was no longer there. Part of the floor had collapsed into the space below, leaving a jagged and threatening hole. People well ahead of the final trio had already negotiated a path to avoid the new hazard; some had made it to the daylight that penetrated the thick dust ahead and advertised safety. And then someone close to those carrying the Stokes basket stopped. And shouted.

The rest of the team carrying the basket kept moving. Jessica could now see over the edge of the hole in the floor. A steel beam crossed the centre of the hole, still attached at their level but sloping down with the other end resting on the crushed bonnet of a car. The concrete slab surrounding the hole was coming free of its reinforcing rods but between the rain of small pieces of rubble and the cloud of dust particles a tiny window into the basement car park had been created.

The shout came again. Maybe it had been Gerry or Bryan or another member of USAR 3. Not that it mattered. The effect of the shout was to stop all those nearby during their headlong rush to safety.

‘There’s someone down there—and they’re moving!’

The shout had a similar effect on the figure in the basement. The movement ceased and then a small face was peering up towards the origin of the sound. A small face topped with a thatch of unruly black hair.

‘Rick-y-y!’

She could get down there. She could use the beam and slide into the cavity and she would be in the basement. She could hold out her arms and catch Ricky as he ran to her and then she could hold him close to her heart and never, ever let him go.

All she had to do was put one foot over the crumbling edge, grab hold of the beam and let herself slide down. It only needed a step or two and Jessica actually had a foot over the gap before she realised the real obstruction stopping her. She swivelled with the speed of an enraged lioness.

‘Let go, Joe!’

‘No way.’ Joe increased the hold he had on Jessica’s arm and wrenched her back from the gap. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘That’s Ricky in there.’ Jessica stared through dust-grimed goggles in total disbelief that Joe wouldn’t understand precisely what she was doing. ‘I’m going to get him.’

‘Like hell you are.’ Tony had hold of Jessica’s other arm now. Between the two men Jessica was pulled further from the gap in the floor. She struggled.

‘This is my choice. Don’t try and stop me.’

‘Calm down, Jessica.’ Tony’s tone was a warning. His glance at Joe said it all. This was precisely what they had feared might happen. Jessica was endangering herself and others in the team. The ominous rumbling around them continued and seconds counted here. In the fraction of time it took Tony to share the glance with Joe, a crack formed and ran up the wall in front of them.

‘We’ll find another way into the car park, Jess.’ Joe was still pulling her away. ‘This is too dangerous—for all of us.’

Strident evacuation signals from an air horn could be heard echoing from other sectors in the mall. The men continued to wrench Jessica towards safety. The other members of their team were well ahead now, outside the side entrance to the mall and running for cover.

‘No-o-o!’ The sound was distraught. Half sob, half scream. The effort Jessica put into trying to turn back was enough to halt their progress just as they were reaching real daylight. Joe looked back. He looked at the sagging ceiling. He looked at the network of new cracks appearing on the walls. He listened to the alien groans and sighs that warned of a possible new collapse. Maybe this whole section would cave in within seconds.

And maybe it wouldn’t.

Maybe there was time for someone strong and fit enough to run back and save the life of a small and terrified child.

And then Joe looked at Jessica.

And there was no choice.

‘Get Jess out of here, Tony,’ he commanded. ‘I’m going back for another look.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Joe. It’s far too dangerous.’

But Joe had already turned. He was running. Jessica saw him pause to assess the gap leading to the basement and it felt as though the wild beating of her heart was right in her throat. Joe eased himself over the edge of the gap just as a loud cracking noise split the air. It was more than a crack in a wall or ceiling now. Even as Tony dragged her clear Jessica could see that the whole portion above the gap Joe was disappearing into was coming down. Small fragments of concrete fell amidst gushes of dust. Then larger pieces like big stones. The sound built into a terrifying roar and the last thing Jessica saw as Joe’s head vanished into the gap and Tony wrenched her clear was the total obliteration of the area they had just traversed.

There was just a pile of rubble where the space had been. A thick dust cloud was billowing towards them and their safety, even as they reached the footpath outside the mall, was still dubious. A horrified crowd of emergency service personnel were watching as they ran clear. USAR 3 led the cheer as Tony and Jessica reached the safety barriers but their gazes were still locked on the mall entrance as they waited for the third figure they knew should be close behind.

Waiting for Joe.

But there was no way anyone else was going to come through that doorway.

No way at all.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS madness.

What, in heaven’s name, had made Joe move in the direction he had? To take that irreversible step back into an area that had clearly been far too dangerous to enter. Even before the USAR course, Joe’s basic safety rules had been well honed in his years of work as a paramedic. Personal safety always had to be the top priority. What use could you be to anyone if you were injured or killed yourself? But it had been too late to turn back as soon as the impulsive decision had been made.

Even as Joe had looked down the hole in the floor of the food court towards the basement car park he had been aware of the imminent collapse of the structure around him. Sliding and then jumping down into the car-park area had been the only route he could have feasibly taken. Maybe, if he could move fast enough, the basement ceiling would hold until he could find a way out. And now here he was, running for his life through a lethal rain of lumps of concrete, many of which were quite large enough to make a mockery of the protective helmet he wore.

The thought that the decision had, indeed, been a stupid one was gone as instantaneously as it had arrived. It was really no more than a background buzz, in fact, a prod of instinct that there was no time to acknowledge. The deed was done and any conscious thought now had to be directed at staying alive. Something large and heavy landed with a bang on the roof of a nearby car. Joe dived to the left, rolling over another vehicle’s bonnet and landing in a crouch between a van and a four-wheel-drive utility with a roof rack. It was the van’s height that saved him from being killed by the end of the steel girder that now fell from above. The van was crushed and if Joe had not flattened himself he would have been caught by the steel beam. His boot was caught. Joe twisted sideways, sheltering his head with his arms as he tried to pull free. Whatever was coming down on top of him wasn’t finished yet. He could hear the dreadful rumbling noise—an avalanche of destruction that was all around him and reaching the peak of a terrifying crescendo.

This was it, then. The end of his life. What had possessed him to pick such a dangerous career? Thirty-five was far too young to die. Was he about to get a flashback of those years in his final moments? The dicey times encountered during some hair-raising helicopter missions? The excitement that leisure activities like car racing had given him? The pleasure of the encounters with the various women who had briefly shared different periods of his life?

There were no flashbacks and the only woman whose face Joe could picture was Jessica McPhail. And Joe remembered why he had risked his life. Would his mother have looked like that if he’d been missing and possibly injured? No. Nobody had ever loved Joe that much. His mother would never have risked anything for him—even the prospect of a hot date. Joe couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be loved like that and he was never going to find out. Women never stuck around—not when they knew he wasn’t interested in marriage. Or kids. Joe had grown up without anyone putting him first. He would probably die like that as well.

But not quite yet. The noise had stopped. The thick cloud of dust prevented any visibility but the silence continued. There were no ominous creaks or groans that might suggest the entire building was going to pancake down on this basement area. It had been a secondary collapse of a small portion of the mall and it appeared to be over. And Joe was still alive for the moment. Stuck, but alive.