THE NURSE'S RESCUE

by Alison Roberts

  ‘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.

  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 want
ed 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.