by Radclyffe
Melissa followed Jude’s gaze and watched Sax and Deb work for a few seconds. It was good footage. They were captivating women. But Jude looked more than captivated; she looked stunned.
“You really are nuts about her, aren’t you?” she asked with a touch of awe.
“Seems like,” Jude acknowledged. She glanced self-consciously at her photographer. “Crazy, huh?”
“Not as long as it’s mutual,” Melissa replied carefully, mindful of the fragile line between caring and intruding. “Is it?”
Jude smiled, recalling Sax in the shower that morning, head thrown back, eyes closed, fingers laced through Jude’s hair, moaning Jude’s name.
“Yeah. Uh-huh. Certainly seems so.”
September 2, 1:00 p.m.
DRM 15,860
We’re on the roof waiting for South Star to bring in two patients found unconscious in a burning crack house. Preliminary reports indicate burns and inhalation injuries. As I look around, Nancy Stevenson—Aaron’s replacement—a respiratory technician, a med tech, and Sinclair and Stein are standing in a cluster, faces turned to the sky, poised to move. You can almost feel the tension rippling in the air. It’s not as hot today as it has been, and there’s a breeze. In the distance, I can hear the rotor blades thumping. There are stretchers with equipment piled onto them awaiting the wounded. No one is talking. The silence is eerie.
“The blades aren’t that low, but watch your head, okay?” Sax advised as Jude stepped up beside her.
“Understood.” Jude kept an eye on Melissa, who was filming as they all moved forward in anticipation of the chopper’s arrival. She had to be sure that her photographer was clear of the landing site as the helicopter descended. Looking up into the sky, she held her breath, waiting for the drama to begin.
“It’s odd how all sense of time, everything actually, disappears when the injured arrive,” she observed almost to herself.
There was a terrible pain in her leg...she found herself staring into a huge silver disk with a hot white bulb in its center. A silhouette took shape in her field of vision; backlit by the bright light...features began to emerge. A face bending near—blue eyes, so dark they were almost purple, intense and penetrating—black hair, thick and unruly...
Remembering, Jude shivered lightly in the warm air. “Everything recedes into shadow except the space around the patient, and that’s like a spotlight in the center of a darkened stage.”
Sax glanced at Jude, struck by the pensive tone in her voice. They hadn’t had much time alone together since the weekend had begun. The sun on Jude’s burnished copper hair glinted like shimmering firelight, reminding her that when they’d last awakened together, those glorious tresses had been scattered across her chest and Jude’s face had been nestled in the crook of her neck. Jude had fallen asleep after shuddering to a climax in Sax’s embrace while Sax had lain awake, more than content to rest with the soothing sound of Jude’s soft breathing whispering in her ear. Finally, she had truly slept, and it had been a sleep without dreams or anxiety.
She moved a step closer, her arm brushing Jude’s. “Time is suspended. There is only the now. No past, no future, no hopes, no dreams. Only the reality of life and death. If you spend enough time on call, you’ll forget there is any other world.”
“That’s frightening,” Jude said quietly. I don’t want to forget what I feel when you touch me. I don’t want you to forget what I make you feel.
“But very effective. It’s difficult to be efficient and focused if you’re worrying about a dinner date or a birthday party. Everything about the training is oriented toward isolating us on some level from everyone else, even if it’s never truly acknowledged.”
“Here comes the chopper,” Jude observed with a sigh. Knowing that their brief moment together was about to end, she was both excited by what was about to happen and saddened that, in the midst of such exhilaration, she and Sax would be distanced even further.
“I still know you’re here, Jude,” Sax murmured as the helicopter grew larger against the backdrop of blue. “I still feel you on my skin.”
“You say things that make my heart stop.” Jude breathed shakily, staring at her in amazement. Sax stood with her face in profile, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. “And at the damnedest times—like now, when I can’t touch you—and it’s sure to make me wild. You’re so damn impossible to predict, it drives me crazy.”
“No, I’m not.” Sax’s grin widened. “Just because I understand the game doesn’t mean I choose to play. I won’t let this come between us. I’ll always know where you are.”
“Sax...” Jude began, but her words were drowned out by the descent of the helicopter, and Sax was already racing forward, one hand guiding a stretcher. Jude watched her go, and even though she knew Sax’s mind was now entirely focused on the wounded men being lowered from the helicopter onto the waiting gurneys, she felt the connection between them. What they had shared in the night would not end with the coming of the dawn or fade in the harsh, bright light of life on the front lines.
“Are you getting it?” Jude shouted as she rested one hand on Melissa’s shoulder and steered her to an open space where the sight line was better for the camera. She maneuvered the photographer and her camera around the group of medical personnel who started administering to the injured almost before they had been lowered from the helicopter.
“Of course I’m getting it.” Melissa never looked away from her viewfinder. She trusted Jude to make sure she didn’t lose the top of her head to one of the rotor blades, because if she missed the shot, she’d lose her entire head to Jude’s temper. “Just keep me in the clear, and I’ll get you what you want.”
“Roger that,” Jude called, riding high as everything in her life came together almost as if it had been scripted—she was doing the work she loved and watching the woman she lov... Oh, no. Do not go there. No, no, no. Not now. No way.
She kept well back as Sax swung the gurney around, Deb steering the second one, and the whole group headed down the ramp toward the elevators at a run. Sprinting to keep pace, Jude tried not to think about how mind-shatteringly sexy Sax looked.
*
September 2, 1:27 p.m.
En route to the trauma admitting area, both men had already received pain medication and loading doses of antibiotics. One had been intubated by the paramedics, and the breathing tube extending from his trachea had been connected to a respirator. Sinclair and Stein bent over him, discussing the plan of action in low, measured tones. Jude and Melissa edged closer to capture both the picture and the sound.
“What’s his pO2?” Sax asked.
“Lousy. Eighty-four on a hundred percent oxygen,” Deb replied, glancing at a computer printout she had just collected from a nearby terminal. “His carbon dioxide level is high despite being ventilated, too.”
“What do you think?”
Deb studied the young man who didn’t appear to be much older than his late teens, lying naked on the stretcher connected to a plethora of monitors and intravenous lines. Much more remarkable than this array, however, was the circumferential rubbery scar tissue encircling his chest that indicated a full thickness burn. The rest of his body was fairly untouched, and it appeared as if his shirt had caught fire, probably from his crack pipe.
“I think the burn scar is constricting his chest movement and preventing efficient ventilation. If we can’t expand his chest, we can’t fully aerate his lungs and it doesn’t matter what we pump into him, he’s not going to breathe well,” Deb summarized.
Sax nodded in evident satisfaction. “Agreed. Your recommendation?”
“He needs scar release—escharotomies—right now.”
“Here or upstairs in the OR?” Sax rested back against the counter, arms folded over her chest, her tone conversational, as if she were discussing the latest sports scores. Her eyes, however, belied her nonchalance. They were fixed on Deb’s face so intently that Jude thought perhaps Sax could actually see what Deb was th
inking.
She’s marvelous, Jude thought. She’s always watching Deb—evaluating her, testing her, guiding her—and all the while she’s allowing her to grow and become independent.
“Breathe, Jude,” Melissa murmured in Jude’s ear. “It’s going to be a very long day, and you’re going to need all your strength. Maybe you should just let me film and you try not to look at her. It seems to do something serious to your system—like shut it down.”
“Shut up, Mel, or I’ll be forced to hurt you,” Jude whispered back, but she couldn’t hide her guilty grin. God, she loved to look at Sax and couldn’t imagine that ever changing.
Deb Stein shrugged her shoulders and came to a decision. “I think we can do it right here. The burn scar is insensate so he won’t feel it, plus he’s got narcotics on board even if there is some discomfort. We need to stabilize his cardiopulmonary status before we do anything else, so we might as well get to it.”
“Go ahead,” Sax said, moving out of the way so that Deb could open the instrument packs and prepare the area where she would make the incisions. “It’s your show.”
After stepping back next to Jude, Sax asked quietly, “You okay?”
“Yes,” Jude replied. “Is he going to live?”
“Probably. He’s young and we got him early. We’ll know better in a few days.” Craning her neck to see over Deb’s shoulder, she instructed, “Put that lateral incision a little more anterior, Stein. And don’t go too deep or he’ll bleed all over the place.”
Jude watched Deb work, aware that Sax, despite her casual demeanor, was completely focused.
“You free for lunch?” Sax asked after a moment, her gaze following the sweep of the scalpel blade in Deb’s hand.
“Yes.”
“I’ll treat you to the street carts out front.”
“Wonderful.” Jude caught Sax’s grin and thought she’d never had such a perfect invitation.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
September 3, 5:48 a.m.
Jude came awake with a jolt, startled from sleep by the sound of shouts and running in the hall outside the on-call room.
Across the room, Melissa sat up and reached for her jeans. “Fuck. Aren’t we supposed to be off call in an hour?” she grumped as she fumbled into her clothes. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Jude jumped from her bed and stepped into her chinos. As she was pulling on her boots, there was a sharp knock on the door.
Sax’s voice called, “Jude?”
Jude crossed to the door in a matter of seconds. Melissa crowded behind her. “What is it? What’s happened?” she asked almost before she swung it open.
“A tanker overturned in the tunnel. It’s blocking the exit on this side, and there’s a huge chain reaction pileup behind it underground. Mass casualties—that’s all I know at the moment. I’m taking the first response team out there now. Deb is organizing the second team. I’ll let you know as soon as I get—”
“Mel, get the portable video cameras and all the tape you can carry,” Jude interrupted urgently as she kept pace with Sax, who was already hurrying down the hall. Interpreting Sax’s quick frown to mean that she was concerned about delays, she added, “Don’t worry, we won’t hold you up. We’ll get our gear, join Deb’s team, and meet you there.”
“Jude.” Sax had too many things on her mind to be circumspect. “It’s going to be a mess out there. We’ll be first on the scene because we’re practically right on top of it. I’m not even certain yet that the tunnel is structurally secure.” She didn’t need to elaborate that if the stretch of highway carved out of bedrock under the Hudson River collapsed, the casualty count would soar.
“Let’s go find out,” Jude answered impatiently, electrified by the opportunity to be one of the first photojournalists on the scene. These were the moments of human tragedy and human greatness. These were the moments she lived to immortalize.
No. Sax wanted to tell her to stay behind; she wanted to tell her it would be chaos and insanity out there; she wanted to tell her that she couldn’t work worrying about her. Yet she couldn’t say anything, even though her stomach clenched with apprehension, because she knew if the situation were reversed, nothing would keep her from doing what she had to do. Instead, she grabbed Jude’s hand and squeezed it briefly.
“Fine, but I probably won’t see much of you. Just...be careful, okay?”
“Okay,” Jude responded instantly, unconcerned about her own welfare. Suddenly, however, she realized that as the leader of the first response team, Sax could be in danger. The initial moments in situations like these were always so unpredictable. The tanker could blow; the tunnel could flood; vehicles could explode. God. Tugging on Sax’s arm, she halted her mid-stride and pulled her around until they faced one another. “Don’t be a hero, understand? I couldn’t...”
Sax smiled, lifting a hand to rest her fingertips on Jude’s cheek. Unmindful of hospital personnel moving around them in the hallway, she closed the distance between them until their bodies nearly touched. Softly, her eyes holding Jude’s, she assured her, “I wouldn’t think of it. Just you be careful, too.”
Before Jude could respond, Sax kissed her swiftly and then was gone.
September 3, 6:08 a.m.
“Look at this mess,” Deb exclaimed as the three of them stood on the sidewalk in front of the hospital, surveying a scene out of a disaster movie. “We’ll get there faster on foot. Let’s go.”
Street traffic was completely gridlocked. People were standing outside their cars, trying to see the cause of the holdup, shouting at one another. Scores of police were hastily erecting barricades and working to divert traffic. Emergency vehicles, sirens blaring, were making painfully slow progress in the crush of stalled or immobilized trucks and cars and were forced at some points to detour onto the sidewalks. The noise level made conversation almost impossible.
“What about the rest of the team?” Jude indicated the ambulance edging out into traffic from the emergency entrance of the hospital farther up the block.
“They’ll catch up.” Deb was already moving. Melissa, with her camera braced on her shoulder, was beside the young surgeon, tape rolling. Jude fell into step with them, the decision clearly made.
It wasn’t hard to tell where they needed to go. The tunnel was only a few blocks away, and even if they hadn’t known that, they could have navigated by the reflection of flashing emergency lights against the undersurface of the gray dawn clouds or followed the sound of screaming sirens.
As she ran, the second camera tucked under her arm, Jude wondered if Sax and her team were already at the crash site. “How many cars are trapped?” she asked, hastily clipping her network badge to her multipocket khaki vest.
“At least twenty.” Deb was in scrubs, a stethoscope dangling precariously from her neck and a handful of rubber tourniquets streaming from her pockets. “According to the first radio report, there are as many as a hundred injured, but you know how inaccurate that can be.” Abruptly, she stopped short and Jude nearly collided with her.
Melissa drew alongside, breathing hard from the added effort of carrying the extra gear. She didn’t look tired, though; with her blond hair poking out from under her baseball cap and her baby blue eyes sparkling with excitement, she looked exhilarated.
“Holy cripes,” she gasped when she saw what awaited them.
They all stared, speechless, their mission forgotten for a moment. The four lanes leading from the mouth of the tunnel into Manhattan were completely blocked with dozens of emergency medical and police vehicles, many parked haphazardly with their light bars flashing. A huge fire engine nearly blocked the mouth of the tunnel—firefighters clambered over it, unrolling thick hoses, disappearing with them into the billows of black smoke that poured out, engulfing them in acrid air and ash. It was impossible to see very far inside the tunnel through the dense clouds. Already a dozen or more injured men and women had found their way out and were now staggering aimlessly about in the mi
dst of the pandemonium.
Jude stood rooted to the spot, staring into the face of her nightmare. She knew exactly what it was like inside that tunnel. She knew the sounds, and the sights, and the smell—twisted metal, broken shards of glass; the pungent odor of electrical fire and burning rubber; confused shouts; screaming. She knew the pain and the fear and the helplessness, too. She wanted to run—from the memories, from the reality, from the terror that surged into her chest with all the force it had on that morning five years before. I can’t go in there.
“I need to set up a command post and a triage center,” Deb shouted, suddenly finding her voice and mercifully jolting Jude back to the present. She pointed to the several emergency medical vehicles that were closest to the tunnel ramp. “That looks like the best place.”
“What about Sax?” Jude was running next to Deb again, barely avoiding collisions with firefighters and police officers and emergency paramedics, all of whom seemed to be running as well. “Where is she?”
She didn’t go in there. Of course she didn’t. Why would she do that? No one would do that. That would be insane.
“Don’t know. She probably went inside to assess the number of injured. There must be people trapped in vehicles in there, too.”
A new rush of fear seized Jude by the throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Sax is not inside that tunnel in the midst of smoke and fire and God knows what else. She said she would be careful. She said she wouldn’t be a hero. She promised! Glancing frantically about, she searched for Sax’s distinctive figure in the churning mass of people. Now that they were closer, she could see paramedics emerging from the tunnel—some carried stretchers with injured, a few led those who could walk, and others shouted for assistance.
In a voice that sounded startlingly calm to her own ears, she directed, “Mel, you stay with Deb. I’m going inside.”