by Sarah Markel
“Aspen!” Steph Burns saw the younger woman bolt out of the SUV before it came to a full stop.
Aspen’s head whipped around, looking for the speaker. “Burns,” she said, her voice tremulous as she threw her arms around her wife’s friend, “Any news? Have you found her?”
Steph beamed widely and took Aspen’s hand. “We found her,” she said quickly, “I don’t have any details, but Command sent me to meet you.”
“So, you don’t even know if she’s alive?”
Steph looked over at Aspen and shook her head sadly. “I only know that the chopper crew spotted her and has her location. Beyond that, I don’t know. The call only came in about fifteen minutes ago.”
Aspen followed Steph quietly as she led them through the throng of firefighters in the midst of a shift change. When they arrived at a group of people set back from everyone else, Steph tugged Aspen closer and brought her to stand in front of a long table that was covered in various maps.
“Blaise’s wife is here, Sir,” Steph said, bringing the attention of the table to them.
Two men and a woman looked up from their discussion over one of the maps. “Thank you, Burns,” one of the men said, “Brees asked that I send you to her when you got back. She’s in the SAR tent.”
Steph thanked the man and turned to Aspen, hugging her tightly. “This is Edger Perrault; he’s the incident commander. He’s running this whole show,” she said, gesturing to the hubbub around them, “I’m going to go meet up with my wife. I’ll come back when I’m done.”
Aspen nodded and thanked her with another hug. Once Steph took her leave, Aspen turned back to the incident commander. “I’m a firefighter with the same department my wife is based out of,” she said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice, “I’ve only worked one search and rescue before, and the situation was entirely different, but what can I do to help?”
The trio exchanged a look before IC Perrault spoke. “Mrs. Blaise, this is Meredith Sickles and Jim Younk. They’re the rescue manager and logistician, respectively.”
Aspen extended her hand and greeted both politely. “It’s nice to meet you both, despite the circumstances. Please, I understand the gravity of what is going on, but someone tell me what I can do to help rescue Lorelei.”
Meredith Sickles brought one hand up to tap on her chin as she studied the young woman. Aspen noticed the woman’s scrutiny and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“Her stature could be beneficial,” the woman said, “and if she’s already versed in SAR protocols, we won’t have to wait for Kaplan to get here from Bakersfield.”
Jim Younk narrowed his eyes as he appraised Aspen for a moment before nodding. “She and Brees should have no problem getting down there.”
Aspen’s eyebrow raised and a feeling of anxiety spread quickly through her chest. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.
“Blaise is stuck on an accidental bridge, right here,” Edgar said, pointing to a spot on one of the maps, “When the outcropping that she was on gave way, it somehow managed to become wedged between these two cliff walls. The aerial team didn’t spot her during the first several sweeps, but after a piece of rock and some debris fell into the water, we sent them back to check out the area of disturbance. That’s when Boché spotted her.”
“Why hasn’t she been retrieved, then?” Aspen asked. Her anxiety ratcheted up another notch as she thought of her wife, laying all alone on that slab of Earth with God only knew what kind of injuries.
“We can’t get to her,” Meredith said. She grabbed a tablet from the table and tapped and swiped until she found what she was looking for. “You see this image? It’s from the rescue chopper. The opening between the cliffs is very narrow because of the trees in the landslide. If we try to manually clear the debris to widen it, we risk dropping tons of dirt, rocks, and vegetation right on top of Blaise.”
Aspen’s eyes widened at the sight of her wife’s body within the scope of the opening. One of Lorelei’s legs was bent at an impossible angle and the woman appeared to be resting half on her side and half on her back.
“How are we going to get her out?” she asked, her voice cracking as she sucked back the tears of anguish that burned at her eyes.
“She’s too high to reach from the water,” Jim Younk took up, “and too far from the mouth of the crevice to reach with a side attack from the chopper. But we are certain that we can get to her and get her secured in the basket, if we can get someone to her through the opening.”
Aspen frowned. “But you just said the opening is too narrow. How are you going to get someone in?”
“When in need of working your way around a hole, send in the lesbians.”
Aspen whipped toward the crude speaker and was both surprised and relieved to see Wendy Brees coming toward her with a helmet under one arm and the other wrapped securely around Burns’ waist.
“That was her,” Breezy said, nodding toward Burns.
Steph grinned unrepentantly and shrugged her shoulders. “Lorelei would have laughed. Breezy just told me about the rescue plan. Need any more help? I have my SAR credentials and my line shift is over for a few more hours.”
“No,” Edgar said firmly, “You need to get some rest, Burns. We still have a fire to put out.”
Steph’s eyes flashed. “I’m the reason she’s down there, Ed. I should have caught her. We both know I’m not going to get any sleep until she’s out of there, so why not let me help?”
Edgar sighed heavily and shook his head at the brunette. “I don’t have anything for you to do, Burns,” he said apologetically. Steph was right; he knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep anytime soon because the guilt was already trying to crush her. He also knew that it wasn’t Burns’ fault that Lorelei fell, but it would do no good to tell her that.
“Then I’ll wait with EMS. This rescue isn’t exactly an easy-in, easy-out. Lorelei is one of my best friends, Ed, I can’t just sit by and do nothing,” Burns crossed her arms over her chest and met the man’s gaze with confidence.
“Besides,” she added with a not-so-subtle glance at Breezy, “You’re planning on sending my wife to do the hard part. Would you just go take a nap if it was your wife and best friend?”
Edgar ran a hand through his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair and huffed out a breath of resignation. “Fine,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “you can stay here with us or you can wait with EMS, just stay out of the way.”
“As I was saying,” Jim returned his attention to Aspen, but not before tossing Steph a disapproving glance, “None of our crew has the right body type to be able to squeeze through that opening. Except Brees, that is. We’ve requested the help of one of Edgar’s guys down in Bakersfield, because he’s small enough and limber enough to get through. We’ve been waiting for him to arrive.”
“But you’re smaller than Kaplan is,” Meredith cut in, “so we can move forward without him. You and Brees can carry the rescue, with the help of Boché, of course. She’s got plenty of experience getting that bird into and out of tight spaces.”
“Don’t,” Wendy said, slapping her hand over Steph’s mouth.
Aspen laughed with the others, her anxieties ebbing for the moment. “Okay,” she said, “suit me up and run me through it. We need to get my wife out of there so she can slap the shit out of Burns for her taste in comedy.”
Chapter 21
“Slow and easy, Breezy, slow and easy.”
“I don’t think ‘slow and easy’ is going to make any difference,” Wendy looked down into the crevice and shook her head. “There’s no way both of us are going to fit on that slab with Blaise; there’s just not enough room.”
“Shit… are you sure?”
Wendy looked up toward the helicopter hovering just above them to the left and raised her middle finger at the pilot. “I’m barely five-feet-tall, even when I stand on my toes and stretch. If I don’t think there’s enough room for two of me on
there, then I guarantee you; there’s not enough room for me and her. We’re going to need a different plan.”
“What else can we do?” Aspen looked down into the crevice again and tears began to fall from her eyes. She’d called out to Lorelei when they first arrived, but the woman had yet to respond to her. Aspen and Wendy could see that she was still alive; every few minutes one of her legs or arms would move and they could hear the tell-tale groan of pain that followed the movement.
Wendy looked around with her hands on her hips. She made note of the width of the ledge, as well as the diameter of the opening above Lorelei. She knew her own weight and measurements and was confident that she could fit through the opening.
“How comfortable are you swinging from a rope above a lake?” she asked, canting her head as she studied Aspen’s body. The gear they wore made them bulkier, thus making it a little tougher to fit easily through the opening.
“Are you insane?” Aspen asked as the color drained from her cheeks.
Wendy snorted and shook her head. “Never mind, that answers that. I think the only way we are both going to get down there, is if one of us comes in from the side,” she explained, “You go down through the opening, and I’ll have Boché squeeze me through on a safety line. There’s no way we are going to be able to get Lorelei into the basket without both of us being down there.”
Aspen looked at her wife’s friend skeptically. She could see what Wendy was thinking, and although it might work, the woman’s idea brought on a whole slew of potential consequences.
“I don’t know, Breezy,” she said, looking back down the opening to her wife’s contorted body, “how are we going to stabilize the basket? Are you sure you’re going to be able to get through there safely on the line?”
Wendy sucked in a breath and ran through her calculations once more. After a moment, she reached out and placed her hand on Aspen’s shoulder.
“I’m a smoke jumper, Aspen. I literally jump out of helicopters and into the heart of a fire every time I get sent to a new location. Heights don’t scare me, so being maneuvered into a tight space by a helicopter is a piece of cake. As far as the basket goes, we can use the side of the ledge to brace it if we need to. I’m hoping Lorelei isn’t in too bad of shape and she will be able to help get herself in there. It’s risky, but not nearly as risky as both of us cramming onto that small space and trying to get her. If we do it that way, we risk all three of our lives.”
Aspen’s heart pounded in her chest at the prospect of not only losing her wife, but of dying alongside her and one of her friends. Poor Steph would be devastated. It wouldn’t be fair to put all of that on her.
“Okay,” she said softly as she rested her hand on Wendy’s extended shoulder, “You get the all-clear from IC and I’ll set my anchor.”
Wendy beamed and nodded as she grabbed her radio to relay the situation. While Wendy spoke, Aspen went to work anchoring herself to the top of the cliff.
“All right,” Wendy said once she was finished with her call, “I’m going to spot you until you’re down, then Boché is going to bring me in. Once you’re down there, do the initial assessment and radio it to EMS.”
Aspen nodded and waited while Wendy threaded the guide rope through her harness. Once they were set, Aspen took a steadying breath and eased herself backward off the top of the cliff. Working slowly to keep her footing firm, Aspen used the tension on the guide rope to walk herself down the cliff face toward the narrow shelf that held her wife.
Stay with me, baby, I’m almost there, she thought as her fear tried to fill her mind with worst-case scenarios. We’ve practiced these kinds of rescues a dozen times at the falls. Just pretend this is a drill and everything will be fine.
“You’re doing great, Rah-Rah,” Wendy called down, using the younger woman’s call sign to help ground her. She’d seen the fear and hesitation in Aspen’s eyes and knew that she was one wrong move from falling apart.
Wendy couldn’t blame Aspen for her feelings; she’d be just as distraught if their roles were reversed, despite the many years of experience she had on the cheerleader. She did, however, admire Aspen’s strength and resolve. Her usual confidence aside, Wendy was deeply emotional when it came to her wife, and she wasn’t entirely confident that she would be able to put on such a calm front in the face of possibly losing Steph.
“I’m down,” Aspen’s voice flitted through the radio on Wendy’s shoulder, “Your move, Breezy. Commencing assessment.”
“Ten-four, Rah-Rah,” Wendy replied when she felt the guide line slacken, “Boché, drop me a line.”
The helicopter moved slowly as the LA Fire pilot positioned herself above Breezy and dropped a rescue line at the blonde’s feet. Wendy quickly unclipped Aspen’s guide line from her harness and gave it several tugs to ensure that it would hold should the younger blonde need it.
When she was confident that the line was secure, Wendy quickly threaded the rescue line through her harness and wrapped the tail end around her leg.
“Beam me up, Boché,” she said, eliciting a chuckle from the pilot as she lifted the smoke jumper off the ground.
***
While Wendy was being moved into position, Aspen was doing her best not to lose her composure. Lorelei hadn’t responded to her voice or her touch, even though she was breathing and physically responsive to painful stimuli.
“BP is on the high side of normal, respirations labored but even. Cursory assessment shows broken shoulder with protruding bone and possible breaks to her left hip and knee. Plenty of cuts and scrapes throughout her exposed body. Dried and wet blood present on her face, head, arms, hands, torso and thighs.”
“Ten-four. EMS at the ready.”
Aspen’s hand shook as she replaced her radio and reached out to brush her fingers lightly over Lorelei’s ash and soot darkened cheek.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said as she looked up to see Wendy suspended in the air and moving steadily toward her, “Breezy and I are going to get you out of here.”
Aspen wiped the tears from her cheeks and laid her right hand over Lorelei’s heart. When she’d first reached the landing, Aspen nearly fainted at the sight of Lorelei’s current state. Seeing the woman she loved with every fiber of her being laid out on that rock with her body broken and contorted was almost more than the nineteen-year-old could handle.
The only thing that kept Aspen conscious was the sight of the tattoo on Lorelei’s chest through her ripped shirt. A black and white American flag took up most of the space above Lorelei’s breast, with a single red stripe running horizontally through the center. Inside the red stripe, the words Chief Lawrence Blaise: 1963-2003 were printed in bold black letters.
Lorelei had told Aspen of her father; the Chief of the Marilynn Fire Department for over ten years before his death in a structure fire. Lorelei had idolized her father and had always intended to follow in his footsteps and make him proud of her.
I can’t let her name fall on that line, Aspen had thought as she grounded herself and fought through the dark fear that wanted to consume her. Gritting her teeth and shaking her head, Aspen quickly and thoroughly assessed her wife’s condition.
“Well, that was a breeze,” Wendy said as she reached her foot out to steady herself on the edge of the slab, “Boché, keep it steady.”
Aspen heard the pilot’s quick ten-four and stood to help the woman tip the rescue basket that was being lowered down to them in an upright position. Once the basket was through the narrow opening, Aspen and Wendy got to work.
Wendy wrapped the rescue line around her arm and stepped back off the ledge, suspending herself once again so they could position the basket along the length of the slab. Aspen guided the basket into position, careful not to let the support tethers get tangled in Wendy’s line.
“She’s not conscious,” Aspen said as she returned to her wife’s side, “so we’re going to have to do this the hard way. You ready?”
Wendy nodded firmly and reached
out for the slab with the toe of her shoe. Once she was firmly on the surface, Wendy withdrew her arm from the rescue cable and bent to slide her arms underneath Lorelei’s shoulders. Lorelei’s body tensed and the woman let out a deep whimper, but didn’t otherwise respond to the happenings around her.
“Careful with her legs, Aspen,” Wendy directed as Aspen moved to lift her wife so they could get her into the right position for transfer into the basket.
Aspen nodded and carefully felt around Lorelei’s hips for any protruding or shifting bone. Finding none, she stepped between Lorelei’s legs and bent to ever so gently lift the woman. “One… two… three,” she coached, lifting in tandem with Wendy as they carefully moved Lorelei to rest parallel to the basket on the very edge of the slab.
A sudden scraping sound echoed around them and the slab beneath their feet shifted. “Fuck!” Wendy shouted as she lowered Lorelei’s shoulders back to the ground, “We’ve gotta move, now. The ledge isn’t sturdy enough for all of our weight.”
Aspen blanched and she hurriedly secured her rappel line around her waist and down her leg, just in case. “Let’s get her in the basket,” she said, nodding to Wendy as the ledge continued to shift beneath them.
Wendy grabbed her cable and wound it around her arm, ensuring that she would stay balanced as she stepped back off the slab to the side of the basket. Maneuvering herself with just one hand, the wily blonde moved to pin the basket between herself and the rapidly shifting ledge.
“On three,” Wendy directed as she reached across the narrow basket and firmly grabbed hold of Lorelei’s waistband.
Aspen dropped to her knees and placed one hand on Lorelei’s shoulder and the other on her hip. On Wendy’s count, she pushed while Wendy pulled. The slab shifted again, causing the basket to buck just as Lorelei slid over the side.
“Fuck!” Aspen cried as her wife’s position became skewed. Instead of lying straight inside the length of the basket, Lorelei was positioned at a slight angle, making it difficult to get her injured legs inside the frame of the anchor cables that held the basket level.