Tremors

by Debra Webb

  He would do this alone.

  SHE WAS DREAMING of him again.

  She knew better…but she dreamed anyway.

  Dreamed of making slow, sweet love.

  Dreamed of all the fantasies that he’d instilled deep within her heart during their short time together.

  Dreamed of picket fences and the pitter-patter of little feet.

  Lisa Malloy stirred…the hard facts of reality prodding her from the dreams she so wanted to believe could come true.

  But Joe Ripani wasn’t a forever kind of guy. He wasn’t even a real relationship guy. He was more about instant gratification—grab all you could get before it was too late.

  And he definitely wasn’t the marrying type…much less the fatherly type.

  Lisa moaned softly and tried to surface from what had turned quickly into an unpleasant nightmare.

  She wanted to cling to the hope that Joe would somehow morph into the kind of man she longed to spend forever with, but deep inside she knew the truth. Their short affair—and that’s the only thing she could call it, since their time together had been spent mainly in his bed—had been all they would ever have. End of subject.

  Her head hurt.

  Or maybe it was her heart…or both.

  She had to wake up. There was a very good reason she shouldn’t be sleeping right now.

  Something was very, very wrong.

  Wake up.

  Another groan seeped past her lips. Why couldn’t she wake up? Why did her head hurt so badly?

  Wake up!

  She had to take the first step…had to open her eyes.

  “Mmm,” she murmured softly. God, what was that pounding in her skull?

  Lisa’s eyes fluttered open, seemingly of their own accord, since she didn’t appear to possess the necessary strength to lift those incredibly heavy lids.

  She never took afternoon naps.

  What was wrong with her?

  Surely this wasn’t another symptom of…

  Her gaze focused on something in front of her, drawing her full attention in that direction.

  Steering wheel.

  Windshield.

  Cracked glass.

  What the…?

  The memory of her SUV shuddering beneath her…the odd up-and-down motion that felt as if she’d been driving over a bumpy road when she hadn’t even started the engine…zoomed into her head with a sensory detonation that made her groan even louder. She’d gotten into the vehicle after her visit to her tax accountant’s office. She remembered closing the door. And then the sudden vibrations…

  The distinct whine of metal made her breath catch.

  Lisa’s gaze jerked upward.

  It took a full five seconds for her brain to absorb and comprehend what her eyes saw.

  The roof of her SUV was dented…jutting downward…only inches from her head.

  How was that possible?

  Her vision blurred and she squeezed her eyes shut to slow the spinning inside her head.

  Pull it together, she ordered her mind, which instantly tried to go fuzzy on her again.

  Had she been in an accident?

  Earthquake. The word surfaced through her confusion, and she knew without further examination that one had occurred. That’s why she’d felt the vehicle moving even before she started the engine.

  But she was safe…inside the parking garage.

  Something that sounded like an explosion rent the air. The SUV creaked and groaned, the sounds nearly deafening.

  “Think, Lisa,” she muttered. “Pull it together.” She sat up a little straighter, careful not to bump her head against the roof of the vehicle. Taking a deep breath for good measure, she focused on her surroundings.

  Her heart rushed into her throat when she realized that the garage had collapsed around her. She could barely see between the piles of rubble. She couldn’t make out any other vehicles. But there had to be others. She remembered clearly noting several cars when she’d emerged from the stairwell onto the third level.

  The response was automatic. A woman, whether it was daylight or dark, never entered a parking garage without taking stock of her surroundings. It was just common sense.

  The pounding in her chest brought her attention back to the immediate problem. How to get out…

  She tried the driver’s door. Grunting, she pushed with all her might. The door didn’t budge. She didn’t even bother with the passenger side. A huge concrete pillar had blocked that side of the vehicle. She shivered. A few more inches to the left and it would have completely crushed her car.

  “Think!” She had to get out of here. Chunks of broken concrete had smashed the car’s hood inward. No doubt the engine was damaged beyond repair. The windshield had cracked. She surveyed the roof of the SUV again. It had caved inward, which meant there had to be more rubble on top. She felt certain that every second she remained in the vehicle put her in more danger.

  The weary echo of the fatigued structure that had only hours ago been a four-story parking garage punctuated the thought. She had no doubt that whatever remained intact would soon collapse completely. She had to get out!

  Ignoring the throb in her skull, she scrambled over the seat and tried the door behind the driver’s. It opened, but only a few inches. Not far enough for her to squeeze out.

  “Damn it!”

  The power windows wouldn’t work. No surprise there, considering the condition of the hood.

  The rear hatch.

  Clambering over the seat and into the cargo compartment, she shoved against the hatch door. No luck.

  Panic slid through her, making it nearly impossible to think clearly. She had to concentrate!

  She kicked at the window in the hatch. It opened separately from the door. That might be her only chance of escape. The latch was on the outside. From what she could tell in the dim lighting, there was enough space for the window part to lift up. All she had to do was get it open. She kicked at it again. It didn’t budge.

  She needed something to break the glass.

  Lisa tamped down the rising panic and fumbled with the carpet beneath her feet. The spare-tire compartment would have a jack. She could use that. Her fingers felt numb and wouldn’t work properly.

  “Hurry…hurry,” she urged, knowing that she was quickly losing the battle with her fear.

  A sound like thunder rumbling in over the ocean jerked her attention upward. The whole parking garage shuddered.

  She had to get out of here.

  She needed help.

  Her cell phone.

  Lisa scrambled back to the front seat and found her purse. By the time she found her phone, her fingers were trembling and her throat had gone so dry she wasn’t sure speech would be possible. She had to let someone know she was in here before she did anything else.

  Closing her eyes, she held the phone a moment and took a deep, halting breath. She had to calm down. Time was running out; she had to make herself clear. She couldn’t screw up what might be her last chance at rescue.

  Focusing on the small keys, she entered the three most significant numbers known to any American alive.

  911.

  A new knot of panic tightened in her throat as ring after ring shrilled in her ear.

  Why wasn’t the operator answering?

  Was the whole city damaged so badly that even emergency services were out of commission?

  Dear God, she hadn’t thought of that.

  What about her family…the clinic?

  The animals?

  Greg?

  What about…Joe?

  He would be in the middle of the devastation, attempting to rescue victims like her.

  “911. What is the nature of your emergency?”

  Tears stung Lisa’s eyes.

  “I’m trapped,” she managed to say past the lump in her throat. “I need help.”

  “Give me your location, ma’am,” the operator said with amazing calm.

  “I’m…I’m…” For just one moment her
mind went blank. Lisa clamped down on her lower lip and stemmed the tears that tried to flow. Calm. She had to be calm. “I’m in the parking garage.” She gave the address.

  “Yes, ma’am. We already have a rescue team there. Can you tell me which level you parked on when you entered the garage?”

  “I parked on the…” Another moment of uncertainty. “The third level,” she said quickly. “The rubble is all around my car. I can’t get out. It…” More creaking and groaning tugged at her attention. “It sounds like the whole thing is going to collapse. Please.” She couldn’t hold back the emotion from her voice this time. “Help me.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “CAP’N!”

  Joe turned as Spike double-timed it over to his position. “What’s up?” If this was another attempt to talk him out of going in again, Spike might as well save his breath. Every instinct warned Joe that there were more victims trapped. Victims still breathing. He had to do all he could to see that everyone got out safely.

  It was more than just his job…it was the right thing to do.

  “Dispatch’s got a vic on the horn,” Spike explained. “She called in on her cell phone. Says she’s trapped on level three, far side.” His gaze focused solemnly on Joe’s. “There’s rubble all around her vehicle, a gray SUV. The power windows have been disabled and she hasn’t been able to kick her way out.”

  Damn. Joe shook his head. Women should always carry a brick in their cars for that reason. If the power windows failed, they could break the glass.

  “All right,” he told Spike. “That’s where I’m headed.”

  “Cap’n.” O’Shea pushed her way into the discussion. “Going back in there now would be suicide.”

  Leave it to O’Shea to state the obvious so plainly. “And if I don’t, the lady dies,” he countered.

  His loyal firefighter glanced away. “I know.” Her gaze swung back to his, renewed determination there. “Then we’ll both go in. You’ll need backup.”

  He was shaking his head before the answer had time to form on his tongue. “No way. I’m not taking anyone in there with me.” Quickly he checked his gear. Getting back out might not be easy. With O’Shea shadowing his step, he headed back to the truck for a rappelling rope. “Get a canine over here and find out how soon we can have some heavy equipment on-site. Just in case,” he added over his shoulder as he checked his communications mike.

  A few other members of his squad had gathered around him by then. All knew exactly what his last comment meant. The heavy equipment was in case he didn’t make it out and they had to start searching for bodies, including his own, rather than survivors. Backhoes and the like were the least desirable method for uncovering survivors.

  “I think we should check with the ICS commander before we—” Spike began.

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” Joe challenged, “we’re in the middle of a crisis here. There’s a lot more damage than just this parking garage. Those in charge have their hands full. We’ll do this my way. The situation is far too unstable to risk any more lives than absolutely necessary. No one follows me in unless I call for help. No one.” He looked from O’Shea to the others, making eye contact with each one, leaving nothing to speculation. “Is that understood?”

  A rumble of reluctant Yes, Cap’n’s went through the group.

  “All right. Get dispatch to patch into my com link. I need direct contact with the lady if I’m going to find her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The members of Joe’s squad dispersed. Some left to task work with the engineers, surveying the damage to check for possible passages in which to search for trapped victims once a canine unit was on-site. Others would help tend injuries and route patients to the hospital as necessary. But Joe knew that every single member of his team would be on high alert, fully prepared to come in after him if need be.

  He surveyed the garage once more.

  The stairwell and elevator shaft leading to the upper levels were damaged beyond use, even if he’d been inclined to take the risk. Not much remained in the way of structural support. Joe had a bad feeling that the entire garage could go anytime now. Whoever this lady was, she was definitely living on borrowed time. He hoped like hell he could get to her in time.

  The climb around and over massive piles of concrete and twisted metal took longer this time. There was no easy access to what remained of the third deck.

  Joe paused to swipe the grimy sweat from his forehead. “Any luck on that patch?” he asked, knowing his question would be carried via his communications link to his squad. He needed more specific directions. The garage was pretty damn big and could accommodate a number of cars. The “far side” didn’t narrow things down much.

  “Working on it, Cap’n,” came O’Shea’s voice.

  He had to move with extreme caution now. The slightest shift in weight could cause a concrete avalanche. He let out an uneasy breath when he visually assessed the extent of the damage on level three. Getting to the opposite side wouldn’t be a simple thing.

  Clenching his jaw, he started the perilous journey. His gaze narrowed as he scanned the piles of broken concrete and twisted iron for any sign of the SUV. The victim had said it was gray. Thank God for cell phones. If he was able to get her out, she would owe her life to that sometimes annoying device.

  He reached for a piece of protruding rebar to pull himself up. The rubble shifted. Joe froze, not daring to breathe. A low growl filled the air half a second before the pile of rocks beneath him shuddered then dropped a good three feet. Joe held on to the support as best he could.

  The grinding sound of concrete and steel was almost deafening as the rubble settled once more, flinging Joe forward. He struggled to regain his footing.

  “Cap’n, you there?”

  The worried voice echoed in Joe’s ear. “I’m here. Level three is in bad shape. I’m attempting to make my way across to the other side.”

  “Stand by for the patch,” O’Shea said. “I’ve been giving dispatch down the road for taking their sweet time.”

  “Standing by.” Joe reached up for a better handhold in the rock pile. One step forward, two back. The knot in his gut tightened a little more, reminding him that this was not good. He told himself he’d been in dire straits before. This wasn’t the first time he’d put his life on the line to save a vic.

  But things were different now.

  He frowned. Where the hell had that thought come from? Nothing in his life had changed. He still enjoyed being single, loved the hell out of his work. His life was perfect. He had no one to answer to except himself. No strings, no hassles.

  An image of Lisa Malloy suddenly loomed large inside his head. Now, why the hell would he think of her at a time like this?

  He swallowed hard and tried to focus on the goal, moving across this treacherous rock pile that had once been the third floor of the parking garage.

  She’d changed something inside him. There was no denying that, no matter how hard he tried. She’d gotten to him in a way that no one ever had. He couldn’t figure it out. She was cute as hell, that was true. Had a great personality and was as dedicated to her work as he was to his, which gave them something in common.

  But that’s where the common ground ended. She had marriage and kids on her mind—something Joe had no interest in whatsoever. Not that he didn’t expect to marry at some point in his life. But not right now. After all, he was only thirty-three. It wasn’t as if time was running out.

  Just then his foot slipped and it took all his strength to prevent himself from falling. Joe glanced down at the jagged slope that dropped all the way to the lowest level. Ugly. And there was no way to determine where the rubble was stable and where it wasn’t. Falling or ending up being buried alive were two very real possibilities in a situation like this.

  Maybe time was a little shorter than he’d thought.

  This was definitely no time for distractions.

  Not even desirable ones like Lisa.

&nbs
p; His body instantly hardened at the memory of the last time they had made love. She got to him so easily, made him weak…made him need her. She was the first and only woman who had ever made him think beyond the moment…beyond the physical aspect of the relationship.

  He almost laughed at himself. Relationships? He didn’t do relationships. Not Joe Ripani. Even the definition of relationship was too definite for him.

  And yet, on some level, his and Lisa’s time together had felt exactly like that. Definite.

  Though they’d parted ways a full three weeks ago, a twinge of something like hurt sliced through him even now. It was crazy. He shouldn’t be thinking of her anymore. He should have moved on without a second thought.

  But no matter how hard he tried, he would wake up in the middle of the night with images of her haunting his dreams. With the taste of her lingering on his lips, and the need for her touch a palpable longing in his loins.

  His heart constricted in his chest. He hoped like hell she was safe at the clinic. If she’d been trapped at home or on the street somewhere, she would worry herself silly over those animals. He’d never known a more dedicated veterinarian. He thought of Salvage and realized that it was that damn dog that had thrown him and Lisa together. O’Shea had rescued the injured mutt from a burning building, but Joe was the one who’d taken over routine care after the animal became the firehouse mascot—not that he minded. That’s what had put him in regular contact with Lisa.

  If it hadn’t been for Salvage, Joe might never have ended up with his heart turning traitor against him. He was fully accustomed to waltzing on the edge of survival in his line of work, but this dancing on the fringes of emotional commitment was foreign to him.

  What would a guy like him do with a wife and family? Later, when he was chief or something, it would be okay. But what kind of life could he offer a woman right now? He dived into dangerous situations for a living. It wouldn’t be fair to any woman, and certainly not to children. He didn’t want to leave a wife and kids behind if he suffered an untimely death. And unfortunately, that possibility came with the territory in his occupation.

  Like now, a little voice taunted.