The Nurse's Rescue
Alison Roberts
Risking his life…for love?Paramedic Joe Barrington is determined not to give in to his attraction for nurse Jessica McPhail. She's irresistible – but he just can't get involved with a mother. And Jessica has to put her child, Ricky, first.They'll work side by side on the Search and Rescue team – but that will have to be all.But when Joe risks his life to rescue her son in an accident, he and Jessica realize that the bond between them is growing stronger by the day…too strong to resist!
“That’s Ricky in there. I’m going to get him.”
“We’ll find another way in, Jess.” Joe was still pulling her away. “This is too dangerous—for all of us.”
The other members of their team were well ahead now, outside the side entrance to the mall and running for cover.
“Noooooo!” The sound was distraught. Half sob, half scream.
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 other choice to be made.
CITY SEARCH AND RESCUE
Life and love are on the line…
The Team:
Dedicated professionals—doctors, nurses, paramedics, police and firefighters—trained to save lives in urban disasters.
The Dangers:
A crowded building collapses, and in the aftermath of the disaster the team must save innocent lives—at the risk of their own….
The Romance:
Passions run high as the dramas unfold—and life and love are on the line!
The Nurse’s Rescue is the second book of Alison Roberts’s heart-pounding
CITY SEARCH AND RESCUE miniseries.
The drama concludes in Ross and Wendy’s story—coming soon in Medical RomanceTM!
The Nurse’s Rescue
Alison Roberts
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
Cover (#u61cb271b-904d-5eba-af82-9aa788424254)
Excerpt (#u9183782d-f6b7-591e-8bdf-c7dd4e560170)
Introduction (#uc3d3d851-e9df-5056-a6b7-44f10788dc1f)
Title Page (#ua0a894a3-f1d5-58b3-8873-edc3e9f41355)
CHAPTER ONE (#u9e616755-e8bf-521f-b946-a065764d9676)
CHAPTER TWO (#u41af22e4-289f-5c09-bcf0-79e65fef3631)
CHAPTER THREE (#ud52eb62d-a9b7-5ce4-9b60-971af9b58f82)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_3033ab81-154c-5332-a058-8ec0642eae66)
‘YOU cannot be serious!’
‘You can’t stop me. I won’t let you stop me.’ Jessica McPhail drew herself up to her full height of five feet six inches. The extra couple of inches provided by the heels on the heavy steel-capped boots she wore and the curve that the safety helmet added meant that she wasn’t unduly disadvantaged by her stature. She put all her energy into the assertive glare she was directing at the man confronting her. She had to.
She was fighting for her life here.
‘Just watch me, lady.’ The man wasn’t about to have his authority undermined. The glance he flicked towards Jessica’s right arm was confident. ‘You’re hardly in a position to argue the toss.’
Jessica could feel the band of fingers trapping her upper arm. The physical contact from the man, a member of the police special operations team, was as unacceptable as the uncompromising directive he had issued. She jerked her arm, only to find the pressure of his fingers increasing to the point of pain.
‘You’ll go now,’ the man ordered, ‘or I’ll have you arrested…as quick as that.’ The snap of his fingers was silent, thanks to the heavy gloves he wore, but the effect was still dismissive.
‘You won’t do that.’
The deep voice coming unexpectedly from behind Jessica’s left shoulder created a wash of emotion. Gratitude. Relief. Even hope. Joe Barrington was here and if he was on her side she had a much greater chance of winning this battle.
‘If you arrest Jessica you’ll have to arrest me as well. Then you’ll have an Urban Search and Rescue team with no medics.’
The man Jessica was facing snorted impatiently. ‘We’re wasting time here. Where’s your squad leader?’
‘Right here.’ USAR specialist Tony Calder had already been striding towards the obvious confrontation. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Your medic here is not going back to the scene. I want her off site.’
Tony cast a surprised glance at Jessica and then at the tall paramedic standing beside her. Joe gave a tiny head shake that indicated he wasn’t up to speed yet either. His gaze snapped back to the man who had issued the angry directive. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Turns out her kid is in there. Somewhere.’
There was a short silence. Just long enough for everyone to acknowledge the implications. They were more than twelve hours into dealing with the aftermath of the biggest urban disaster ever to occur in New Zealand. The explosion and collapse of a significant portion of the suburban shopping mall had already claimed at least twenty-six fatalities, including eight children, dozens more injured with four listed as critical and possibly up to thirty victims still missing. Including a five-year-old child.
‘Is that true, Jessica?’
Her nod was tight. ‘I can do this, Tony. I have to do this.’
Tony shook his head. ‘No way. I understand how you feel, Jessica, and I’m terribly sorry you’re going through this but there’s no way you can go back to the front line. This job is dangerous enough without that kind of personal involvement.’
‘But I’ve already been doing it. Just because you’ve found out, it doesn’t make any difference.’
‘What?’ Tony’s jaw sagged. ‘Have you known about this all along?’
‘Apparently her mother was the last fatality we pulled out on our first shift.’ Joe’s calm voice filled the gap created by Jessica’s lack of response.
‘You knew about this?’ Tony snapped. ‘You’re a paramedic, Joe. You know as well as I do how something like this could affect someone’s rational behaviour. It could endanger a whole team. You’re the leading medic for our squad. It was your responsibility to pull Jessica off the team.’
‘I didn’t know then. She didn’t tell me. And I certainly didn’t know that her mother had the kid with her.’ Joe’s tone suggested something darker than disappointment. Their relationship might have been simply that of classmates previously, but he and Jessica had been working as a tight unit for the last twelve hours under conditions that demanded the closest cooperation—and trust. Joe Barrington did not take kindly to finding his trust misplaced.
‘I didn’t tell anybody.’ Jessica tried to put aside the memory of seeing her mother’s lifeless body pulled from beneath the rubble. The shock had been enough to provide a protective numbing of her senses and she had grasped and clung to that effect. She couldn’t afford to acknowledge any grief yet, and the shock was a cushion to allow postponement of the inevitable reaction. Jessica had focused on her son. On finding him. Alive. ‘I knew what you’d say,’ she added defensively. ‘And I wasn’t going to let anybody stop me going back in there.’
‘We only just found out the connection.’ The overalls worn by the man still facing Jessica advertised his connection to Civil Defence. His white helmet indicated a senior level of responsibility. ‘The call to trace next of kin for the victim led the police team to the USAR training course. We located Jessica, thinking that she didn’t know, and then we find that she did know. And she’s been back in there working again.’ The tone was one of complete disbelief and the stare he gave Jessica suggested that she was some kind of unfeeling monster. ‘You helped pull your own mother out and you still went back in.’
‘My son is in there. He’s five years old…and he might still be alive.’
The silence was longer this time. Jessica could feel the long odds of that being the case being calculated by the men surrounding her. She wanted to close her eyes and focus on her belief that Ricky was still alive. Instead, she turned her head to meet Joe’s gaze.
Would he think less of her for keeping the devastating information private? Would he guess that she’d used the stand-down period from their first tour of duty to sit by herself in the empty USAR bus gathering strength to control her grief and fear? Putting aside the clear decision Joe had made not to act on the glimmers of attraction that had passed between them ever since they had met three weeks ago, would the fact that they had been there at all help sway Joe in favour of supporting her now? His expression suggested that he was certainly seeing her in a new light. Jessica held his gaze for a second longer to let him see the strength she possessed—strength coupled with a fiery determination and a larger dose of courage than she had ever summoned.
Joe couldn’t look away. It wasn’t due to any resurgence of the physical attraction he had felt on more than one occasion for Jessica. She was encased in shapeless, dirty overalls right now. The abundant auburn curls were hidden under the bright orange helmet. A dust mask dangled beneath a face streaked with grime and the safety goggles had left a red, indented rim around her eyes. What was kicking Joe in the gut was nothing remotely physical. Those dark eyes were revealing something that packed an emotional punch that hit Joe at a much deeper level. His attraction to her had been easy to dismiss once he’d discovered her single-mother status, but nobody could remain unmoved by the sight of that desperate appeal for support underlying a fierce determination to find and protect her child. Jessica was not going to be defeated if there was any way she could fight back.
Perhaps his trust had not been misplaced after all. If Joe ever needed someone fighting on his side, he would want them to have exactly that kind of attitude to obstacles. And she could do it, too. Joe could see a strength he wouldn’t have dreamed the shy, quiet nurse could possess. He tore his gaze away to face the Civil Defence official. At well over six feet in height he could look down on the man and he knew that a calm tone would aid the impression that he was in the best position to assess and control the situation.
‘Jess has already proved that she’s capable of continuing her job. We’ve just dealt with a multi-trauma victim extricated from our sector. The woman had an internal haemorrhage and a punctured lung with a pneumothorax that required medical intervention well above any first-aid levels. I can vouch for the fact that her clinical ability had not been affected. In fact, I couldn’t have done my job without Jessica’s assistance.’
Jessica lowered her gaze for a split second. The praise was unexpected and enough to distract her momentarily from her fierce concentration on achieving her current goal. Had Joe really found her assistance that vital? He hadn’t said anything more than ‘Thanks—good job, Jess’ at the time, but even that had been enough to reward the effort it had taken.
‘We’re short of medics in there,’ Joe added. ‘I think she should be allowed to come back in.’
‘No way.’ The white helmet gave a decisive shake.
Tony Calder was also looking dubious. ‘It’s too risky, Joe.’
‘I’ll take responsibility for the risk,’ Joe said. ‘As you pointed out, Tony, I’m the leading medic on this team. Jess can do this. She should be allowed to do this. If there’s any question of anyone being endangered then I’ll pull the plug. At least let her do it until the end of this shift. That’ll give us time to find a replacement. Jess can stand down at that point. We’ll all need a rest by then.’
The silence was tense now. Time was being wasted. Precious time.
‘Please!’ Jessica’s quiet plea echoed around the group. ‘Please, let me do this…Tony?’
‘We can’t ignore the other emergency services involved here. Geoff?’ Tony turned to the man in the white helmet. ‘We’ve worked together more than once on training exercises. Can we sort this out between us or do we need to interrupt the scene command unit?’
‘I don’t want to do that. They’ve got more than enough to deal with.’ Geoff shook his head wearily. ‘And so have I. I’ll leave the ball in your court, Tony. I guess I know you well enough to be able to trust your judgement.’
Tony caught Joe’s gaze. The subtle jerk of his head led both men to step aside out of earshot of the small group of figures. They didn’t have to move far: the noise level around their position was as high as it had been ever since they had arrived on scene. Jessica’s gaze didn’t falter as she watched their movements. The background cacophony was now familiar and there was no hope of hearing what was being said. A huge container near the entrance to the shopping mall was being filled with rubble delivered by a bobcat. Concrete cutters and air hammers could be heard, sounding like rapid gunfire on their own and then melding into a dull roar as they competed with other heavy equipment. A chainsaw was being tested or repaired in the near vicinity. Tony had to raise his voice to be heard over the insistent revving. ‘Joe? Are you sure you want to take this extra responsibility? Do you really think she can cope?’
The chainsaw’s motor cut out. Joe didn’t have to shout. ‘She’s more than competent, Tony. She’s a damned good medic and I’d work with her in any paramedic situation.’
‘I’m not questioning her clinical skills. I’ve been impressed with the way she performs right from the start of the course and that’s been reinforced considerably since we were deployed to this incident. What I don’t know is how she’ll cope with searching for her own child.’ Tony’s rapid speech advertised the time pressure the men were under.
‘That’s what she’s effectively been doing since we started this shift. It hasn’t stopped her being able to treat a victim other than her son.’
‘But what if she finds him? Dead?’
‘Then she’ll probably go to pieces,’ Joe admitted. ‘We’ll get her out and I’ll carry on alone. And if he isn’t dead then maybe having Jess there will help. She’s the best person to know how to handle him.’
‘How much do you know about the boy?’
Joe shook his head. ‘I don’t think Jess talks about him much.’ And Joe certainly hadn’t made any effort to find out. The fact that the child existed at all had been a disappointment. It had been enough to prevent what could have been a very pleasant interlude. The perfect kind of relationship—an association with an attractive woman and an easy way out after the few weeks of the course, when Jessica would have gone back to her home town.
‘He’s not normal, is he?’
‘I think he’s handicapped in some way,’ Joe confirmed.
‘Physically?’
Joe shrugged. ‘I got the impression it’s more an intellectual disability. Or maybe a behavioural problem.’
‘So the kid’s a loose cannon in there.’ Tony sighed. ‘If he is alive and mobile he could be a danger to himself…and others.’
‘More than Jessica would be, that’s for sure.’
‘Do you think you can handle it?’ Tony wanted a decision made.
Joe grinned. ‘Jessica—or the kid?’
‘Both, if necessary.’
Joe’s smile faded as he remembered the desperate plea in Jessica’s dark eyes. The kind of plea that would make any man feel duty bound to render whatever assistance was humanly possible. His face was quite serious as he nodded at his squad leader.
‘I can deal with this, Tony. I want to deal with it.’
Tony’s nod was brisk. ‘Let’s get on with it, then. We’ll get this team back inside and see what we can do.’
Jessica walked a pace behind Joe as she followed her team.
‘We’ve been reassigned,’ Tony had informed them. ‘They’ve cleared a lot of rubble from part of Sector 5 and there’s now access to a previously inaccessible section that the engineers have just cleared as safe to search. Follow me.’
Jessica followed, trying to focus clearly enough to remember the site map they had seen during their initial incident briefing. Which part of this sprawling, suburban shopping precinct had been designated Sector 5?
‘Can you remember the map, June?’ Jessica turned to an older woman walking alongside her. ‘Where’s Sector 5, exactly?’
‘I think it’s on the Sutherland Street side of the mall,’ June responded. ‘Or maybe Desmond Street.’
Jessica nodded, a little grimly. Whichever street held the entrance, it was still well away from the area where her mother had been found. At least it was within the disaster scene, however, which was infinitely preferable to being kept out. The thought of having to simply sit and wait, with nothing to do but agonise over what might or might not be happening, had been unbearable. Besides, none of them knew what parts of the mall might still be relatively intact. Or how far a small and determined child might be able to travel…if he was uninjured.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
Jessica simply nodded. She had never been more sure of anything in her life.
‘I’d feel just the same way.’ June reached out to pat Jessica’s shoulder in sympathy as she returned the nod with an encouraging smile. Well into her fifties, June had been the oldest member of Jessica’s USAR training class. She was as tough as they came, and had been involved with the Red Cross for more than thirty years. She had also raised four children of her own and was now counting grandchildren. She understood.
The team walked briskly around the outskirts of a car park that had been cleared of private vehicles to create the operations base for every emergency service it had been possible to mobilise. It was an unprecedented scene for a New Zealand city and despite the fact that the alien light generated by powerful equipment had now been replaced by real daylight again, it still seemed as unreal as a movie set.
How long had they been here? Jessica had lost all track of time. The massive explosion that had apparently been centred in the mall’s supermarket had occurred just after 3.30 p.m. on a Friday afternoon—just as Jessica and the other members of the USAR class had been finishing their three-week course and learning the results of the final exams on their new and specialised search and rescue skills. They had all assumed that the callout had been a hoax, a novel way to end a period of training that had brought together a diverse group of people and seen some close friendships develop.
A Friday afternoon. At just the right time to catch the rush of after-school and end-of-week shoppers flocking to the popular shopping centre. Hundreds of people had been inside when the explosion, assumed to have been caused by a fault in the mains gas supply, had occurred. It was a disaster that was major on an international scale and the evidence was everywhere Jessica glanced as Tony led his team through the car park, their progress now being filmed by a television crew.
There was ample material to keep all the film crews happy. The area was teeming and it seemed likely that there were now more rescuers on scene than there had been people caught in the mall. It was easy to spot the workers who had recently been inside the incident scene. They all had the same covering of dust, the same grimy goggles and dust masks pushed just clear of faces that wore the same expressions of dogged determination to carry on despite exhaustion. Tempers were fraying more frequently now and Jessica was not surprised at the sounds of an argument coming from behind one of the army’s personnel trucks they were passing.
‘I’m not going to move this truck. Where the hell do you think I’m going to find a place to put it?’
‘It has to be moved. This tent is going up here.’
‘Put your bloody tent somewhere else, mate. This truck’s not moving.’
What was the new tent for? Jessica wondered. Another temporary morgue, perhaps? Or maybe it was something to do with another set of new arrivals—the dog team she could see ahead of them now. The handlers were unloading their highly trained search dogs and checking their gear. Leads and harnesses were being attached and bowls of water distributed. The barking of the dogs melded into the myriad sounds around them and Jessica knew it was a sign that the rescue operation was moving into an advanced phase.
Surface casualties had been dealt with by the time the USAR teams had been deployed. The more easily accessible sectors had been covered and many victims found and extricated by the specialist teams. The likelihood of finding more survivors was dropping rapidly but it wasn’t impossible. Jessica held onto that thought grimly as her team halted and regrouped near a side entrance to the mall. The bubble of hysteria that made her want to run ahead, screaming the name of her son and flinging any obstacle she could touch aside, had to be as rigidly controlled as the bubble that contained the grief for her mother.
She could do it. It might take every ounce of strength she possessed and then some, and it might only be possible for a short period of time, but Jessica knew it was possible and that was a revelation in itself. How could she, Jessica McPhail, possess such an inner reserve and have been so completely unaware of its existence for the thirty years of her life so far? She had always lacked confidence and self-esteem. Had always been quick to put herself down before others had had the chance to do it for her. She had never done anything on her own without encouragement from someone she trusted. And she had never been assertive enough to insist on doing something in the face of active opposition.
Except she wasn’t doing this on her own, was she? Jessica glanced around her as she followed instructions to put her dust mask and goggles back into position, to check her radio and switch on the headlamp attached to her protective helmet. She had a team around her that included an expert squad leader in Tony. Firemen Bryan and Gerry had been classmates, as had June, and they made up half the six-person rescuer section of USAR 3. Jessica was one of the medics and then, of course, there was the pick of the bunch as far as she was concerned. The team’s other medic—Joe Barrington.
‘All set?’ Tony nodded, having surveyed his team. ‘Let’s go, then.’
Security barriers were lifted to allow them entry to what looked like a relatively unscathed area of the mall. Apart from shattered shop frontages and the disarray of goods within them, the general structure appeared normal. Jessica turned her head, as did the other team members, using the beam from her headlamp to survey and assess their surroundings, checking for hazards and trying to absorb all the information and stay orientated.
Having crunched over broken glass as they’d passed several small shops, the team entered a food court. The smell of partially cooked and abandoned meals made a welcome change from the stench of dust, but the eerily empty space, overturned chairs and half-eaten meals on the tables turned the scene into a potential set for a horror movie.
Jessica noted a partially demolished hamburger, barely recognisable through the thick layer of dust. A holder on a nearby countertop held empty ice-cream cones, the contents long since melted and mixed into the surrounding layer of dust. Had children been waiting for an adult to pass the treats within reach? Jessica swallowed a painful lump in her throat at the thought. How often had she taken an ice cream from just such a holder in order to pass it into Ricky’s eager hands? The food court was left well behind by the time she managed to rein in her thoughts.
Why had they come to the mall so early? Jessica had arranged to meet her mother and Ricky here but not until 5 p.m. when she could be sure her last day on the course was over. Had Ricky been so excited by the promise of the visit to the toy shop he had driven her mother to distraction with the wait? Jessica had had no premonition of personal disaster as they had travelled to this scene. She had been more concerned that she was included in an emergency rescue team whose skills might be required for a lengthy incident, much longer than she would feel happy leaving her mother to cope with Ricky for.
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 (#ulink_8ac0fec4-256d-590f-a41f-9d755dcc88fb)
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.
And maybe not that stuck. Joe could move his foot inside the heavy boot. If he could reach the zipper and open it, he might be able to free his foot. The task was awkward. Well over six feet in height and solidly built, Joe’s body was not designed for contortionist activities. He was breathing heavily and aware of something sharp prodding the region of his left kidney by the time his fingers managed to make meaningful contact with the boot zipper. He pulled it down, opening the thick leather boot as far as he could. The steel cap had been squashed; by some miracle his toes appeared to have missed being crushed, but even with the zipper opened to ankle level it was no easy task to free his foot. By the time he wrenched it clear he was also minus his sock, but it felt great to wiggle his toes. They were free. He was free.
Joe pushed himself backwards until he found enough space to ease himself onto his knees. It was pitch black around him, the dust was suffocating and the only sounds he could hear were muffled and too distant to be any kind of threat. Joe remained still for a moment, taking stock of his situation. He had survived the collapse but he was now isolated from any assistance. Or was he? Joe fumbled at the belt holding his bum bag in place. The belt that his radio clipped onto. He felt along its length and then checked again with the sinking realisation that the radio was no longer there. At some point during his mad dash for safety it had fallen off his belt. The likelihood of finding it under the new layer of dust and debris surrounding him was almost nil and even if he could find it he would have no way of telling anyone precisely where he was. He had no idea what direction his flight for life had taken.
Recall of the various briefings they had been given and the maps that were always on display were not much help. The basement car park extended beneath most of Westgate Mall. He knew that one of the pedestrian tunnels was blocked because that was where Jessica’s mother had been found amongst the fatalities. And that might explain how Jessica’s son had survived. Perhaps he’d run back into the car park when a panicked group of people had desperately tried to flee in the opposite direction.
Ricky. For a moment, Joe had forgotten the reason he was now in this situation. Ricky had survived, at least up until the secondary collapse. Had he also managed to dodge the perilous rain of debris that had propelled Joe further into the car park? He’d certainly been running fast enough when Joe had spotted him through the gap in the floor. Joe pulled himself upright, using the bumper of the four-wheel-drive vehicle beside him.
‘Ricky!’ His voice sounded odd. An isolated sound in a dark and alien environment. He tried again. ‘Ricky! Can you hear me? Where are you?’
The silence was thick. The huge space was filled with dust and precious little else. Joe would have expected any sounds from rescue activities overhead to carry enough to be heard. It was only to be expected that the secondary collapse would have resulted in a widespread evacuation of the building. How long would it take to reassess the situation? For people to get close enough for him to try and find some way to communicate his position?
‘Ricky!’ The call was a little half-hearted this time. Even a normal child would probably be too terrified to respond to the call of a stranger and Jessica’s kid wasn’t normal, was he? It might help if Joe knew more about what his problem was. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so careful to avoid any personal kind of conversation with Jessica during the weeks of the course. But, then, if he hadn’t, he might have regretted his decision not to follow up on the attraction he’d felt for her and that would have been a big mistake.
It might also help if he could see something. Joe could barely make out the outline of the vehicle he still had his hand resting on. His headlamp had cut out the moment he’d dived for cover. Or had it fallen off and been lost, like his radio? Joe pulled his leather glove from his right hand and reached up to his helmet. Yes, the small lamp was still there but clicking the switch didn’t make any difference. Taking off his other glove, Joe draped them over the roof rack beside him, then unclipped his helmet and removed it. No wonder the light wasn’t working—the whole assembly was loose.
Working by touch as much as sight, Joe checked the fitting and screwed everything back into place. He held his breath as he clicked the switch and then breathed a sigh of relief as a bright beam lit up a circle of the floor. A steel girder could be seen, with a boot trapped under its end and a forlornly empty sock trailing over the zipper. Joe put his helmet back on. He felt far more confident now. He could start moving and find a way out of this predicament. Maybe he could even find the kid and make this ill-advised solo mission worthwhile.
‘Ricky!’ Joe turned his head from side to side, letting the beam of light arc though more than one hundred and eighty degrees. ‘Where are you, buddy? Let’s find a way out of here, shall we?’
The knowledge that there was someone else trapped down here was comforting in a way. And the sound of his own voice was a lot better than the eerie dust-laden silence so Joe kept calling as he began to move. He headed down the line of parked cars, keeping to one direction. Eventually he would find a wall and then he could move around with the hope of finding an exit. There must have been exits that hadn’t been blocked or there would be a lot of people trapped down here. And an unblocked exit should reveal itself by allowing daylight to enter the space. His headlamp was powerful enough to override any shafts of daylight penetrating the dust but there was no way Joe wanted to risk losing his source of light by switching it off temporarily. The connections still weren’t great and the light flickered frequently enough to be a worry.
‘Hey, Ricky!’ Joe was getting used to talking to his unseen and silent companion. ‘I’m getting near the wall here now. I’ll bet if I keep walking this way I’ll find the ramp where the cars drive out and then we’ll be able to get out, too. Don’t know about you, buddy, but I’m starving!’
The kid had to be hungry by now. And very thirsty. It was well over twelve hours since the disaster had occurred. The thought that Ricky might have been in the car park for that length of time and still not found an escape route was disturbing. Joe stopped walking for a second, using his headlamp to try and penetrate the murky air further away and hopefully spot a potential exit. The silence fell again as the rustle of Joe’s movements ceased. And then Joe heard it. A small sound admittedly, but it had been unmistakable.
Someone had coughed.
A small someone. Joe had encountered enough children with respiratory problems to recognise that this cough came from a youngster. And it wasn’t far away.
‘Ricky!’ Joe found himself grinning beneath his mask. ‘Where are you, mate? I can’t see you. Are you OK?’
There was no response and Joe sighed. He’d have to find this kid now, and if Ricky was keen not to be found it might not be easy. The new cough Joe heard was cut off by the sound of something falling. A single lump of concrete maybe. Far enough away not to be a danger but quite close enough to remind Joe of the situation he was in. They were in. Ricky didn’t even have the dubious protection of a hard helmet. He had to find him. And quickly.
‘Your mum sent me to find you, Ricky. How ‘bout we get out of here and I take you back to Mum?’
Still no response. Hell, maybe the kid was backward enough not to be able to speak. Or to understand what he was saying. He had to be very close, judging by the proximity of that coughing, but the surroundings provided a rich source of places for a small boy to hide effectively. There were any number of vehicles to shelter behind…or beneath. Joe squatted on his haunches at the sudden inspiration.
Bingo!
A small face peered at him from beneath the axle of a furniture van, looking like a rabbit caught by headlights. Huge brown eyes stared at Joe. The kid was petrified!
‘It’s OK, Ricky. My name’s Joe. I’m a friend of your mum’s.’
His reassurance didn’t produce any flicker of relief. As he always did, subconsciously, Joe looked at things from the child’s perspective. Alone, terrified and possibly in pain, faced with a huge stranger wearing odd clothes and with his face obscured by goggles and dust mask. Joe pulled the mask down and smiled at Ricky.
‘I’m not really scary,’ he told the child quietly. ‘See?’
Unblinking brown eyes stared back from a disconcertingly unresponsive face.
‘We need to get out of here, Ricky,’ Joe continued. ‘Did you hear that?’ Another shower of debris had fallen somewhere in the car park. ‘It’s a bit dangerous with things falling off the ceiling and I’m too big to hide under that truck. Good hiding place, though. You’re clever, aren’t you?’ Joe was trying to assess his chances of grabbing the kid and pulling him clear. If Ricky decided to avoid him by wriggling further under the truck Joe would have no chance of extricating him. He wouldn’t be able to abandon him either. Joe edged forward very, very slowly, as though he were approaching a wild animal. He didn’t want to frighten Ricky any further but he was quite certain the boy wasn’t going to come out voluntarily.
It almost didn’t work. If Joe hadn’t hooked his hand under Ricky’s armpit he would have escaped and the planned route had clearly been further under the truck.
‘Sorry, kid.’ Joe hauled him clear. ‘But I have to get you out of here.’
Oddly, Ricky didn’t struggle once he knew the game was up. He didn’t shout or cry either. Joe found himself firmly holding a very small and rather limp child. Maybe he was injured. In normal circumstances it was always the really quiet children that Joe would be most concerned about. This was no place to try and assess Ricky’s condition, however, and time could be running out for both of them. Joe could hear a sound suspiciously like the horrible moan of an unstable building’s infrastructure.
He had no idea of a potential escape route. Maybe it would be better to try and find shelter. Or at least somewhere safe for Ricky while he went searching. The car beside them was locked. So was the next. Joe considered smashing a window and looked back for something suitable, like a piece of concrete rubble. His headlamp’s beam flashed over the truck Ricky had been hiding beneath, a furniture delivery vehicle presumably belonging to one of the shops the mall housed. Joe hoisted Ricky more securely onto his hip and moved swiftly as the ominous creaking sound came again.
Yes! The back of the truck was unlocked. Joe pulled the door open and deposited Ricky on the floor. As he hauled himself up and pulled the heavy door closed behind them, Ricky scuttled sideways like a crab until he reached the far corner of the truck. He curled his knees up and started rocking himself gently as he stared back at Joe. The stare was coming from quite a distance. The truck was huge and felt comfortingly solid. It probably wouldn’t offer total protection and the air pocket might not last long if the roof fell in and buried them, but it was a damned sight better than being as exposed as they had been. And Ricky was secure. Even if Joe went out searching, the small child would be unable to reach or manipulate the heavy internal door fastenings. For the moment, at least, they were safe.
The restraining hand of the law wasn’t necessary this time but Jessica couldn’t blame the scene command officials for deeming that more than one police officer would be prudent to ensure she stayed put. Maybe they should have followed up their threat of arresting her in the first place. The fact that she had been allowed back in had endangered lives. Joe would never have gone back in if she hadn’t been with him. She had sensed the instant that reckless decision had been made during the eye contact they had shared at the point of reaching safety. Something had connected him to Ricky through what he had seen in her eyes, and it had been strong enough for him to risk his own life to attempt the rescue of her child. Maybe, thanks to her, this disaster had just claimed another victim.
Not that anyone knew anything. The whole scene was being evacuated until the impact on stability of the secondary collapse could be assessed. Crowds of people were now milling about in the car park near where Jessica had been positioned or were walking purposefully towards their own bases or the church hall that had been commissioned to provide hot food and drinks, washing and resting facilities.
Jessica knew the stationary groups of rescue workers were all talking about what had just happened and she also knew that an effective information grapevine had established itself in the time this major incident had been in progress. More than one stare was being directed at her as people filtered the scraps of information gathered and then selected the more interesting items to discuss in detail. The relief of hearing a friendly voice was enough to make Jessica lose the edge of her control.
Reaching out as her friend Kelly greeted her, Jessica found herself pulled into a comfortingly tight hug.
‘I heard about your mother,’ Kelly said against her ear. ‘About Ricky. God, Jess! Someone said they saw you run into the car park—that you were trapped.’ The hug tightened into an almost painful squeeze. ‘I’m so glad it’s not true.’
‘But it is.’ Jessica felt her control slipping another notch. Her fear for both Ricky and Joe surfaced enough for the release of tears. A racking sob interrupted her words. ‘Ricky’s in there,’ she managed. ‘In the car park.’ Uncontrollable sobs prevented Jessica adding the news about Joe but her squad leader was still nearby and his calm words only served to increase the intensity of Jessica’s tearful release of pent-up emotions.
‘Joe stopped Jessica going in after him,’ Tony told Kelly. ‘He knew how dangerous it was.’
‘He went in himself instead.’ Jessica could feel another hand on her back, rubbing beneath where Kelly’s arms held her. June was also trying to impart some comfort as she spoke to Kelly. ‘Nobody thought to try stopping him.’
‘And then it was too late.’ Tony sounded grim. He was probably blaming Jessica despite everything he’d said to the contrary—like that Joe was an adult and an experienced paramedic and quite capable of making his own decisions. ‘The explosion happened and the ceiling came down right beside us. We had to run for our lives.’
Jessica was desperately trying to regain control. She managed to stifle her sobs but the effort was enough to make her tremble all over. Kelly’s embrace was giving her strength, however, and as the strength returned, so did her ability to think more clearly. The secondary collapse was over now. It was time the situation was reassessed. Time for someone to find out whether things were as hopeless as many feared. She pulled free of Kelly’s arms.
‘We have to go back in,’ she told her colleagues. ‘We have to find them.’
‘We’ll go back as soon as it’s cleared for safety,’ Tony agreed. ‘But not you this time, Jessica. You’ll have to leave this search to us.’
Jessica shook her head miserably. ‘It’s my fault Joe’s in trouble. I have to help.’
‘The best help you can give is to look after yourself right now. You need to be away from here for a while. Kelly or June can take you over to the church hall and look after you.’
‘No. I want to stay here.’ Jessica had to try one last time. ‘My son is in there, Tony. He…’ The new strength Jessica had summoned was more fragile than it felt. She had to choke back a new sob. ‘He might still be alive,’ she added brokenly.
‘You can stay close,’ Tony told her. ‘But you can’t come back inside.’
‘But…’ Jessica swallowed any more words. Tony was just doing precisely what needed to be done. She would do exactly the same in his position of responsibility. And if her squad leader didn’t do it, someone from Scene Command certainly would.
‘It’s OK, Jess.’ Kelly’s voice was reassuringly confident. ‘You can rely on us.’
Any desire to protest further faded completely as Jessica listened to her classmates decide what they were going to do next. Kelly was right. She could rely on them. All of them. The USAR course had been largely attended by people that Jessica both liked and admired. Paramedic Kelly and another nurse, Wendy, were both close friends now and June was great. Fletch and Ross were both doctors and the guys from the fire service were all strong and caring men. They would all be far more use than Jessica on scene and they wouldn’t stupidly endanger themselves or other members of their team. Jessica kept her head down as she allowed Kelly to lead her away from the scene command headquarters towards the church hall in Sutherland Street where the USAR personnel had decided to take a break.
Kelly had noticed how quiet Jessica now was. ‘Joe will have found Ricky,’ she said confidently. ‘I’m sure of it. And if there’s any way he can keep them both safe, he’ll do it. He’s not a helicopter paramedic for nothing. Joe’s coped with some pretty dodgy situations in his time—even a chopper crash once.’
‘I can’t lose them both.’ Jessica realised as she spoke that Kelly might misconstrue her meaning and think that her feelings for Joe were far stronger than she had admitted. This was not the time to explore just how close to the truth that might be. ‘Not Mum and Ricky,’ she added quickly. ‘Especially not Ricky.’ There could be no misunderstanding the depth of feeling in the last whispered words. ‘He’s my whole life.’
‘I know.’ Kelly’s arm tightened around her friend’s waist.
‘Is there anyone we can contact for you, Jess?’ Fletch sounded as keen as Kelly to provide comfort. ‘Any family or friends from home?’
‘No.’ Jessica shook her head sadly. She had known how small her world was. Why had she never realised how vulnerable it made her? ‘The only people that matter are here. Mum…and Ricky.’
And Joe. Despite the fact that she knew the attraction wasn’t mutual, Jessica would never forget meeting Joe Barrington. Any new fantasies of finding a meaningful relationship and future happiness would have a role model she knew it would be impossible to improve on. Yes, Joe mattered. Rather a lot. Even more so now that she had lost her mother.
The protection of the numbing shock her mother’s death had produced was wearing off. Jessica could feel a nasty prickle reminiscent of waking from a nightmare. Perhaps the feeling had stirred because her group was now walking near the large tent that contained the temporary morgue catering for the incident’s fatalities. Her mother would be in there and Jessica decided she’d better at least start dealing with her grief now. If she didn’t, what sort of shape might she be in when they found Ricky and she needed to focus on being a mother rather than a daughter?
‘I want to go in there,’ she said quietly. ‘I want to see Mum again.’
‘Are you sure?’ Kelly sounded doubtful.
Jessica nodded and tried to hold back a new outbreak of tears. She cleared her throat. ‘Would you come with me, please, Kelly?’
Fletch offered to accompany her instead but Jessica didn’t want male company. Kelly had a close relationship with her own mother. She would understand at least part of what Jessica had to go through.
The rows of covered bodies in the closely guarded tent was horrific. Officials in charge of this grim area were now sadly used to coping with distraught relatives coming in to identify and mourn the loss of loved ones. The process of removing those already identified and seen by the medical forensic officer had begun and a hearse was parked discreetly at the back of the tent. Jessica and Kelly were given as much privacy as possible with portable screens, and someone had done a wonderful job of cleaning up her mother and covering the injuries as best they could.
Jessica had no idea how long she spent in there or how Kelly coped so well with her raw grief, but when she emerged she knew she had done the right thing. She had overcome the barrier of acknowledging her loss and had begun the process of grieving. And she could be quite certain now that she was going to survive all this. Again, she was tapping into the well of strength she hadn’t known she possessed and a tiny part of her felt proud she had discovered it and determined that she would never lose sight of such a valuable attribute.
Her friendship with Kelly Drummond was also valuable. ‘Thank you,’ Jessica said to her simply as they headed once more towards the church hall. ‘I don’t think I could have done that without you.’
‘That’s what friends are for.’ Kelly smiled. ‘I’m here for you, Jess. So are Wendy and Ross and Fletch and June. And Joe.’ The afterthought was almost guilty—as though Kelly had forgotten her confidence that Joe had survived and would be found.
Jessica nodded solemnly and managed to return a faint replica of Kelly’s smile. She was going to need all her friends in the near future, that was certain. What was painfully uncertain was whether she had any basis on which to pin her hopes that Joe would be amongst them.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_40b21f0d-ac24-5014-8168-ee52ac0f5134)
RICKY was still terrified.
The kid was huddled in the corner of the truck, which was empty apart from some packing materials and straps for securing items of furniture. Joe moved towards Ricky and the child shrank back, managing to make himself appear ridiculously small for a five-year-old boy. He also looked frightened and very, very vulnerable. It touched a place in Joe’s heart that was still surprisingly tender. How old had he been during the brief intrusion into his life by John—one of the more unwelcome of a string of ‘uncles’? Three or four, maybe? Joe had been an unwanted extra and if he hadn’t made himself scarce voluntarily then John had always had a quick hand or belt ready to provide an incentive. Joe sighed. The memory might give him empathy with this child’s feelings but it was far from a welcome one.
Dropping to a crouch made his size far less intimidating. Joe had learned that as a paramedic. In fact, when he had to, he could handle kids pretty well. And there was certainly no one around here he could practise his usual delegation of duties on. Joe eased his helmet off and set it carefully on the floor to illuminate the corner of the truck. Then he pulled off his goggles, dust mask and gloves. See, his smile told Ricky, I’m getting more normal by the second. He also kept talking, keeping his tone reassuring.
‘My name’s Joe and I’m a paramedic. That means my job is to look after people who get sick. Or hurt themselves. This is cool, isn’t it, Ricky? This truck’s like a special room to keep us safe from all those bits of concrete that keep falling off the ceiling.
‘They’ll be coming to look for us soon. You wouldn’t believe how many people are out there with all sorts of special gear to help them. Did you hear the noises? There are machines to cut up concrete and lift heavy stuff. There’s even a bulldozer that’s allowed inside the shops. And cranes.’
The vocal reassurance seemed to be working. His paramedic skills were proving pretty useful, in fact. The kid wasn’t trying to escape and his gentle rocking movement was actually a help in making a visual assessment of the child’s condition. Ricky was pale. Because of the contrast of the thatch of black hair and the big, brown eyes, his face looked as white as the proverbial ghost’s. Or was that at least partly due to the layer of concrete and plaster dust? He was leaning to one side, possibly to protect painful ribs, and he clutched one elbow, cradling what was clearly a badly broken arm. He was still coughing but his breathing sounded generally OK. Joe was coughing quite frequently himself now, thanks to the plaster dust.
Ricky’s knees had grazes nasty enough to need quite a bit of attention and there were myriad other cuts and bruises on the small body, but it was the arm that bothered Joe the most.
‘You’ve hurt your arm, Ricky. That’s a shame, buddy. Is it really sore?’
The question received no more response than any of his questions so far. Joe was a little unsure of how to deal with this. Problems he had encountered were usually at the other end of the spectrum where kids were shrieking too much to talk or allow an easy assessment.
‘Can you talk, Ricky?’ If the kid hadn’t been watching him so intently, Joe would have been easily persuaded that he was severely intellectually disabled, but there was no way anyone could have eyes that that and not be intelligent. They were like Jessica’s eyes. The colour of dairy milk chocolate. Maybe he was just as shy as his mother. ‘You don’t have to talk,’ he said casually. ‘But it might help if you nod or something. Can you nod?’ Joe found he was demonstrating the action as he raised his eyebrows encouragingly at Ricky.
The movement of the boy’s head was hesitant and very slight but it was definitely there and the suggestion of a response felt like a major breakthrough. Ricky could understand what he was saying. He wasn’t just talking to himself.
‘Good man,’ Joe congratulated Ricky. He kept his gaze on the child’s head. ‘Is your arm sore?’
This time the nod was a fraction more definite.
‘Can you wiggle your fingers? Like this?’ Joe demonstrated a wiggle.
He could see the flinch of pain on Ricky’s face that accompanied the weak attempt to copy the movement, but the child made no sound of distress. Either he was incapable of producing sound or he was one brave kid.
‘What I’m going to do, Ricky, is make a little bed for that sore arm to help it feel better.’ Joe glanced into the shadows skirting the circle of light his headlamp was providing. ‘See that cardboard over there? I’m going to cut a piece of that for the bottom of the bed and some of that blanket to make a cushion. Is that OK with you, buddy?’
Joe took the silence as acquiescence and pulled his shears and a crêpe bandage from the limited supplies left in his bum bag. He could only hope that the circulation and nerve supply to Ricky’s hand wouldn’t prove to be compromised. This would be a hell of a lot easier on both of them if he could just splint the limb without having to straighten it. The impression that young Ricky McPhail was no wimp was strengthened considerably over the next twenty minutes or so. Joe was as gentle as it was possible to be but it still had to hurt and Joe wished more than once that he hadn’t used all the supplies of analgesics from his pouch on the patient with the crushed foot. The break in Ricky’s arm was nasty, involving both the ulna and radius, and had come very close to being a compound fracture. It gave another important reason for splinting the small arm other than pain relief. Any untoward pressure and one of the sharp ends of the fractured bones could pierce the skin and present a huge risk of infection and delayed healing.
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