by Lynn Ames
There was blood and glass everywhere. Through the now-open space where the covered and columned entryway had been, she could see that the first-floor ceiling was starting to give way. She looked up briefly at 16
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the window that marked the governor’s office; catching Gene’s attention, she began talking again.
“As you can see, a second explosion has just rocked the capitol.”
Gene gave her a thumbs-up at her slightly raised eyebrow, which he correctly interpreted to be her questioning whether or not her microphone was still working. He focused in on Kate. “That window there,” she pointed to the corner spot on the second floor, “is the governor’s office.”
“Kate,” Phil said in her ear from the newsroom even as she continued talking to the viewers, “you’re the only game in town; the scene got cordoned off before any of the other stations could get their people down there. CNN and all three major networks are carrying you live. No pressure here, girl, this is great stuff.”
She could hear the excitement in his voice.
Gene followed her hand and zoomed in on the dramatic picture of the tattered curtains in the governor’s office blowing out the hole where the window once had been. “As we have been informed by the senate majority leader, who had been meeting with the governor at the time in that room right there,” she gestured again to the hole at the corner of the building, “the governor had already been taken to safety just after the first explosion.”
Gene marveled at how calm and professional the anchorwoman appeared. It was as if she hadn’t just survived being thrown into the air by a fireball like a rag doll. He allowed himself a few seconds to moon over the statuesque beauty as he had done from the very first moment that she had come to work at WCAP five years earlier, straight out of college. But then, there wasn’t a guy at the station, or heck, some of the women, too, for that matter, who wasn’t in love with her. It didn’t matter that she was unerringly friendly to all of them, but dated none of them, no matter how persistent they were.
Kate turned sideways to take in the scene behind her. What she saw touched her deeply as a human being; there were too many people still in harm’s way. She knew her first responsibility as a journalist was to get the story, but as a person, and one who had extensive first aid training, she felt she had a more important obligation to help. Maybe, just maybe, she could accomplish both objectives.
She continued talking as she began running toward the building. “As you can see, there are a number of people hurt or trapped awaiting assistance. Rescue personnel are swarming over the scene, but the number of emergency workers is simply inadequate to deal with the number of casualties.”
In her ear, Phil was screaming at her. “Katherine Ann Kyle, don’t you dare put yourself in danger.” He could tell that she heard him but was ignoring him. “Kate, please,” he pleaded. “Don’t.” The last was 17
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whispered quietly, as he knew he’d already lost the battle. “Stay safe,” he murmured.
Gene moved to follow Kate, all the while training the camera on her as she dodged debris on her way to aid the injured. She motioned below camera level that he could get the general pictures of the scene and still pick up her audio without putting himself in jeopardy. He appreciated her gesture of concern, but was determined to stay with her as long as he could without losing transmission.
As she moved into the first-floor lobby, she kept up a running monologue for the sake of the viewers. “The ceiling has caved in here, as you can see, trapping a number of people.” Kate spied a young blonde girl whose leg was crushed under what had once been a pillar to the side portico. She went immediately to the girl’s side. “It’s okay, sweetheart, we’re going to get you out of here.” The girl’s watery green eyes and tear-stained face bespoke her terror and pain, and, for a moment, the sight sent Kate’s mind spinning back five and a half years to the winter of 1982.
It had been a glorious mid-winter day at the college snow bowl. Kate, a senior, stood atop one of the most challenging runs on the mountain.
She had a half-hour before her next shift was set to begin and she was determined to enjoy the superb conditions. “Well,” she thought to herself, “if you’ve got to make money somehow, this sure isn’t a bad way to go.” As a member of the ski patrol, she could ski for free whenever she was off duty; when she was on, she got paid. In her mind, it just didn’t get any better than that.
The slopes were crowded on that Saturday, no doubt thanks to the fresh dumping of two feet of snow they had received the night before.
Kate pushed off, gathering speed and picking the line she wished to follow through the numerous moguls just ahead of her. She loved the freedom of skiing, the rush of adrenaline she got while attacking the hill and the thrill of finding a great rhythm through a minefield of bumps.
She stopped to rest momentarily at the bottom of the first tier of moguls, surveying the next part of the slope. Just as she was about to move on, a blur of movement caught her eye over on the far left side of the trail about 100 yards ahead. A big mountain of a man was barreling down the slope, completely out of control. Kate quickly scanned the area, already calculating the distance between him and anyone below him.
“Shit!”
The ski patroller was already in motion, knowing that she was going to be too late. She watched helplessly as the out-of-control goon slammed full speed into a much smaller female skier who had the misfortune to be in his path. The pair disappeared in a cloud of snow, arms and legs 18
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flying through the air in a tumble of bodies. Kate arrived before the plume of snow had settled, releasing her skis and planting them to mark the accident even before she had come to a complete stop. The petite blonde was lying motionless, her right arm and left leg at odd, unnatural angles; the behemoth was shaking his head. “Wow, man, that was really something,” he remarked.
Kate didn’t spare him so much as a look. “Are you hurt?” she asked him coldly, kneeling next to the woman.
“Naw, I’m tougher’n that.”
“Grand, then just sit there until I can deal with you; if you so much as move a muscle, so help me I’ll ram my ski so far up your ass it will come out your mouth. Got me?”
The big man’s eyes opened as wide as saucers, and he just nodded mutely.
Kate was busy assessing the woman’s injuries and checking to see if she was breathing okay. Pulling out her two-way radio, she called to the base patrol hut and radioed her location, calmly asking for a stretcher and leg immobilizer and instructing them to have an ambulance standing by. “And Ken,” she added, “send up Robbie to deal with the jerkball who caused this thing; I don’t ever want to see him on this mountain again.”
“Roger that, Kate. It’s going to take us a few to get to you; you’re in a tough spot. Hard to reach.”
“Do the best you can, Ken, she needs help now. Out.”
Kate put the radio back in her fanny pack and looked down at the injured woman, who was just now coming around. Gently, she removed her charge’s goggles, which had cracked but miraculously remained on her face. She had a shocked moment of recognition upon seeing eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea trying desperately to focus. She had caught a glimpse of that unforgettable face on campus once before, but although she had looked, she had never seen the beautiful young co-ed again.
“Did you get the license plate number of the truck that hit me?”
Kate laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “Hey,” she said softly, lowering herself so that the blonde could see her without moving her head. “You’re gonna be all right, but I need you to stay very still for now, okay?”
“Yes; I hurt so much.”
“I know. I’ve got a team on the way so that we can move you safely.
Hang in there.”
“My shoulder.”
“Mmm. It’s dislocated from the looks of it; I can try to put it back in
if you want.” Gently she added, “It will be less painful if I do.”
“Ok-k-kay, but this is going to mess up my lacrosse season, isn’t it?”
“’Fraid so.”
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Kate dug her foot into the snow and tried to get leverage. God, she didn’t want to cause this woman any more pain, but she knew that the discomfort would be temporary, and that the end result would leave her feeling better. She braced herself and grasped the dangling shoulder, being careful to jar her as little as possible. Then, using direct pressure at the correct angle, she gave a quick push and felt the bone slide back into place. The woman gave a short yell.
“Okay?”
The blonde looked up at Kate and gave her a weak smile, her lips starting to quiver and her body starting to shake from the shock of the accident and the cold. Without thought, the ski patroller unzipped her own jacket, sliding carefully behind the injured skier, zipping the jacket with both her and the woman inside, and effectively using her own body heat to try to warm her. Feeling the young co-ed shivering uncontrollably against her, she wrapped her arms carefully around the slim waist, pulling her closer still.
Kate’s lips were almost directly behind the blonde’s ear; murmuring soothing words, she tried to comfort her, wishing with her whole heart that she could take this woman’s pain away. To distract her, she began asking questions.
“What’s your name?”
“J-jam-mison P-p-p-p-parker.”
“Is that five p’s or six?”
“V-very funny,” Jay said, rolling her eyes. But she smiled just the same, a fact that warmed Kate to the core.
“That’s a pretty name.”
“M-my f-friends call me Jay.”
“Ooh. Are you including me in that number?”
“S-sure.”
“Boy, you’re easy.”
“D-don’t let it g-get around.”
“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. You’re a student, right?”
“Y-yes, a sophomore.”
Kate looked around impatiently; where the hell was the team? As brave as this young woman was being, she was in shock and hurting, her leg was clearly broken, and it was vital to get her off the mountain and taken care of. She took out her radio once again and asked what the holdup was.
“Almost there, Kate; we’re doing the best we can.”
At that moment, Robbie skied up. “Whatcha got, Kate?”
She jerked her head in the direction of the big gorilla and explained to Robbie, who actually made the guy look small, what had happened.
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“Get him out of my sight,” she hissed. Hearing the tone in her voice, Robbie did just that.
Kate turned her attention back to her patient, whose lips were starting to turn blue, and whose skin was very pale.
“Is my leg broken? It h-hurts s-so much.”
“I think so. No dancing at the Winter Carnival Ball for you, I’m afraid.”
“D-darn. And I was s-so counting on b-bringing F-fred Astaire as my d-date.”
“Um, isn’t he dead, Jay?”
“Is he? See, there’s another r-r-reason I c-can’t g-go.”
Kate was utterly charmed.
Just then a snowmobile came over the rise, instantly heading for the crossed skis in the snow. Behind it was a litter with all manner of medical equipment and four more members of the ski patrol. As soon as they pulled up, Kate apprised them of the skier’s condition, noting possible frostbite, exposure, shock, a likely broken leg and dislocated shoulder. As they worked to get her leg stabilized and her arm immobilized, the older woman swathed her in blankets and grasped her good hand, leaning over so that Jay could see her face.
Softly she asked, “Is there anyone you want me to call for you? Your parents?”
Jay hesitated and her face took on a far away look; for a second, Kate wondered if she had heard her. Quietly, the younger woman said,
“N-no, there’s no one.”
Something about the way she said it made Kate want to ask more questions, but she didn’t want to push her just then. Instead she said,
“How about a friend? Someone to meet you at the hospital?”
“Thanks. I’ll c-call my friend S-sarah when I get there; she’s got a c-car. Thanks for taking c-care of me; you m-make a great t-toaster oven.”
Kate smiled at her, gave her fingers one last squeeze, and assured her that she was in great hands just before the sled started moving down the mountain.
Sighing, Kate zipped her jacket back up, put her sunglasses and gloves back on, and stepped into her skis. For the rest of her shift, which lasted another five hours, she couldn’t stop thinking of Jay. Finally, when she couldn’t stand it anymore, she made her way to the base patrol hut, signed herself out, and drove to the hospital.
Going to the emergency room, she talked to the nurse on duty, asking after the young co-ed’s condition. She was told that the patient was treated for a dislocated shoulder, a severely broken leg, and some minor frostbite on her fingers; she had been released only half an hour earlier 21
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and left with a friend. Satisfied that Jay had been well cared for, Kate headed back to her dorm for a hot shower.
Kate shook her head to clear it. Gene zoomed in on the child as the journalist first took the time to comfort the girl and then began leveraging her weight to try to move the pillar off of her. With a monumental effort, she was able to shift the marble just enough to slide the youngster’s body out from underneath. She hugged the girl to her briefly and called for a fireman who was speaking into a two-way radio nearby to come and carry the child to safety. Then Kate moved on to the next victim.
At 2:45 p.m. Jay walked back into her hotel room after her run. She grabbed the remote and flicked the TV on to CNN as she peeled her sweaty running clothes off on her way to the shower. She had a little over an hour before her interview with the governor, and her run had, as always, helped her to focus on the questions she wanted to ask and the ground she wanted to cover in the piece. She turned the shower on, adjusted the temperature, and stepped in, sighing with pleasure when the hot spray hit abused muscles.
A half-hour later, she emerged from the bathroom wearing a hotel bathrobe and toweling her hair, freezing in mid step on her way to the closet when she heard the familiar voice. Jay checked the logo in the corner of the screen; yep, it was CNN. What was Katherine doing on CNN? Then her mind registered the words.
“To recap, then...” the anchorwoman was saying. Jay sat down heavily at the foot of the bed, her eyes riveted to the TV; the scene unfolding on the screen was bedlam. She watched in horror as the camera shook violently but somehow remained focused on Kate, who was being tossed in the air like a mannequin. Jay gasped out loud and clutched a pillow to her chest.
At that moment, her hotel room phone rang. “Hello,” she said numbly.
“Ms. Parker, this is Ms. Winston from the governor’s office.
Unfortunately, something has come up and the governor is going to be unable to keep his appointment with you this afternoon.”
The writer marveled at the woman’s power for understatement as she watched the images of the capitol on her TV screen.
“We will be in touch with either you or your editor later today or tonight to reschedule. We are very sorry for the inconvenience.”
Inconvenience, Jay thought. That’s what you call it when the capitol is destroyed by a bomb?
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“That’s quite all right, Ms. Winston, though I would like to reschedule as soon as possible.”
“Of course, we’ll be in touch sometime later today. Thank you for your patience.”
Jay was already refocusing on CNN. When Kate came back into view following the explosion, she seemed unfazed, despite the fact that half the building behind her was now missing. When she turned and ran toward the building, Jay jumped up from the bed, scre
aming at her to get back. “No, Katherine. No!” The younger woman buried her head in her hands. This was like some bad suspense thriller; it couldn’t be real. But it was.
Jay’s first reaction was to go to her, but as she started to throw off her robe and pull on jeans, she realized the impossibility of the task. There was no way, with all that chaos, that she was going to be able to get anywhere near where the anchorwoman was at the moment. She growled in frustration and began pacing the room while she watched.
The CNN anchor was overlaying his voice over the footage of Kate running into the capitol. “You’re watching dramatic live video of reporter Katherine Kyle of WCAP-TV in Albany, New York, where two explosions have just rocked the capitol building. Let’s listen in...”
The audio switched back to Kate just as she reached the little girl. Jay smiled wistfully at the woman’s efforts to comfort the child; it reminded her of the events of that day on the ski slope half a decade earlier.
Jay lay on her bed, her leg propped up on a pillow and her arm resting on yet another pillow. She was groggy from pain medication and tired from her daylong ordeal. She had been completely dazed by the impact that had blown her off her skis. All she remembered was her rescuer’s face, full of concern, as she had leaned over her on the trail.
Jay knew that she must have died and gone to Heaven, because she could swear that the woman bending over her was the same one she had seen on campus the previous autumn. My God, she thought foggily, what unbelievable eyes. They were such a vivid shade of blue and so incredibly intense.
Jay had been in so much pain, but the low timbre of that voice whispering soothing words in her ear and that warm, solid, comforting presence holding her was enough to make it bearable and to make her want to be strong. She could have stayed in that cocoon listening to that woman forever. In truth, she had felt a certain sense of loss when the jacket was unzipped and the warm body slid out from behind her. And then it occurred to Jay that she hadn’t even gotten the woman’s name.
How stupid was that?