Radclyffe - Safe Harbor 02 - Beyond The Breakwater

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by Beyond The Breakwater (lit)


  "He's too unstable. I cant trust this tube not to come out, either," Tory replied distractedly. "Tell them they can winch whenever theyre ready."

  "Not with you in there," Reese said sharply. "Thats a twenty percent incline up to the road. This cars going to twist all over the place when they start pulling it up."

  "No choice."

  Reese turned and shouted, "Get the fire captain down here."

  A minute later, a tall, thin man tramped through the marsh towards Reese. "Sheriff Conlon. I didn't see you before."

  "Peterson. Just got here," Reese said brusquely. "What about the structural integrity of the car? Dr. King says she needs to stay inside while you haul this thing out of here."

  "It'll be one helluva bumpy ride, but they made those old Caddies to stand up to almost anything." He shrugged. "Shell get knocked around some. Probably get a few bruises, but the frame will hold."

  "Give me a minute. Do not move this vehicle until I give the word."

  He hesitated for a moment, but there must have been something in the tone of her voice that convinced him, because he replied, "Okay, but make it fast. We need to get this scene cleared up."

  Reese bent over to look inside again. "Tory," she said in a voice too low for anyone else to hear. "You can't stay in there during the extrication. It's going to be rough. Too rough...especially for you now."

  "I'll brace myself. I'll be okay." Tory took a long shuddering breath, and then admitted what she hadn't wanted Reese to know. "There's a lot of water in here, and I'm getting really cold. So is he. Get us out of here, Sheriff."

  "Two minutes," Reese yelled back over her shoulder as she grabbed the top edge of the vehicle, which was actually part of the undercarriage in its now upside down position, and levered her legs through the broken-out window.

  Chapter Twelve

  "Reese, what in God's name are you doing?" Tory cried.

  "I'm going to give you a cushion, Doctor," Reese muttered as she twisted her larger frame back and forth until she had one leg on either side of Tory's body.

  Now that she was inside, Reese could make out the driver's legs underneath the steering column and his head wedged under the dashboard on the passenger side. Tory was holding the tracheostomy tube in place with one hand and squeezing a portable oxygen bag with the other.

  "There isn't enough room," Tory protested.

  "That's the point," Reese grunted as she wedged herself into the corner formed by the floor of the car above them and the side wall. Tory was now effectively insulated from the frame by Reese's body.

  "Be careful, Reese, there are metal shards sticking out everywhere."

  A powerful engine roared somewhere behind them, and the car shuddered.

  "Brace your legs on something and push back into me, Reese instructed as she wrapped her arms tightly around Tory's waist. The car tilted, and they were thrown precipitously forward. Reese shot her right arm out straight to stop their fall, ignoring a sharp stab of pain as something jagged tore through her jacket just below her elbow. With her left arm, she encircled Tory's waist and held her firmly against her own chest as the car rocked violently from side to side. "Hold on to me!"

  "I can't," Tory shouted. "I have to secure this trach tube."

  The car continued to bounce up and down as it was winched up the side of the embankment. Reese absorbed most of the shock on her shoulders and back as she curled protectively around Tory's body. What seemed an interminable time later, but what was in reality only a minute or two, the car leveled out and the earsplitting rattles and bone jolting vibrations stopped.

  "Are you all right?" Reese asked anxiously.

  "Yes." Tory's voice was muffled due to their awkward jackknifed position.

  Reese rested her cheek against the back of Tory's head and closed her eyes for a second. "Are you sure?"

  "I'm all right, honey," Tory said. "Just help me move him."

  By that time, firemen and EMTs were working to separate enough of the frame to ease out the victim. Reese shifted again until she could reach down as far as the driver's body.

  "I can hold that, Tor. You need to get out of here and get warm. You're shaking all over. I can feel it."

  "I'll be fi--"

  "Tory, go!"

  "Be sure and advise me if there's any change in his condition, Sheriff," Tory said quietly as she eased her cramped, stiff body toward the broken-out window.

  "Understood, Doctor," Reese said without looking at her. Then she shouted, "Smith!"

  "Right here, Reese," he called from just outside the vehicle.

  "Take Dr. King to the EMS truck and have someone look at her. Get her warmed up. Now ."

  "Roger that, boss."

  Ten minutes later, Reese found Tory in the back of an EMS van, sitting on the edge of the open rear compartment. She was wrapped in a thermal heating unit and held a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

  "How are you doing?" Reese asked quietly, stopping a foot from her.

  "Probably better than you. You're soaking wet, Reese. You should go ho" Tory's eyes narrowed as she examined the large wet patches on her lover's clothes. The ones on her right arm and leg actually seemed to be getting larger as they talked. Her heart gave a sudden painful thud. "Oh my God, you're bleeding!"

  "Yeah, I guess so, "Reese said wearily, fighting a wave of dizziness. In the last several minutes, she'd become aware of a variety of aches and pains. Her right forearm throbbed and burned, and she was having a little trouble putting her full weight on her right leg. It felt like it was about to give out. "I think I might have gotten snagged in a couple of places on a piece of the car when they were pulling us out."

  "Why didn't you say something sooner?" Tory set the cup aside and threw off the blanket, then got hastily to her feet. "I need to look at you. Climb up into the van where there's some light."

  "Okay," Reese muttered, struggling with a fresh wave of dizziness. "But let's go to the clinic. I don't want to do this out here."

  The fact that Reese allowed Tory to open the door and help her inside only made Tory worry more. Fortunately, at that time of night there was no traffic, and in less than five minutes, Tory pulled into the parking lot in front of the clinic. When Reese pushed open the door to get out, Tory simply said, "Don't even try it. Wait for me."

  "How are you doing?" Tory asked quietly as they maneuvered through the deserted clinic toward the examining rooms in the rear.

  "Fine," Reese grunted through gritted teeth. For some reason, her arm and leg seemed to be burning worse now.

  The pain in Reese's face made Tory's insides twist, but she kept her discomfort to herself. When they reached the largest examining room which doubled as a procedure room, Tory reached inside and turned on the wall switch. "Lean against the table until I can help you get your clothes off."

  Hurriedly, Tory watched her hands at the small sank in one corner, then turned and moved to where Reese rested with one hip up on the examining counter. Willing her hands not to shake, Tory began to unbutton Reese's shirt. "Where're you hurt, honey?"

  "Mostly my right arm and leg. The rest of it's just bumps and bruises, I think." Reese was having more and more difficulty moving the injured extremities, and it was difficult to get her shirt off. As Tory eased the garment down over the injured right arm, Reese drew in her breath sharply at the swift streak of pain that shot up toward her shoulder.

  "Sorry," Tory murmured, finally getting the garment off. She bit back a cry of alarm when she saw the jagged tear in Reese's forearm that was deep enough to expose the muscular compartment. Blood oozed steadily for the dark ragged tear, but there was no indication of bright red arterial bleeding.

  "Christ, thats sensitive."

  "It's the salt from the marsh water, Tory said flatly. “That's what stinging. Let's get these trousers off so I can see your leg."

  Again, Tory had to struggle to contain her exclamation of concern when she saw the jagged star-shaped puncture wound on the outside of her lover's right thig
h. It looked like it might have been made by the sheared off top of the gearshift. Looking at it, she realized that it probably happened when they had pitched forward during the cars bumpy ascent up the steep roadbed.

  "I've got to get you up on the table so I can clean these out. The one on your arm is going to need stitches." As she spoke, Tory worked at separating herself emotionally from the fact that she was looking at her lover's torn and bruised body so that she could accomplish what needed to be done.

  "What's wrong, Tor?" Reese asked as she watched Tory examining her.

  "I hate to see you hurt," Tory confessed quietly.

  "It's not too bad. Don't worry, love."

  "You don't get it, do you, Sheriff? Tory smiled up at her with a quick shake of her head. “I worry about you because I love you. It comes with the territory."

  "I know. Try to remember that when I'm being overly protective, okay?" Reese took a deep breath. “Like tonight. I was scared out of my mind when I saw you in that car like that.

  "Okay," Tory said softly. Then she leaned down and pressed her lips to Reese's forehead for an instant of much needed contact. When she straightened her expression was soft with love but her eyes were firm with purpose. "Now don't talk to me any more. Just try doing what I tell you to do. Do you think you can manage that for a few minutes?"

  "That's a tall order, Doctor."

  "Stretch yourself, Sheriff. I'm sure you can manage."

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time Tory was finished, they were both awash with sweat.

  "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know that hurt." Tory stripped off her gloves and brushed her hand over Reese's cheek. Almost to herself, she murmured, "You're so pale."

  "It's okay." Reese tried to smile, but her stomach felt like it had been tied into knots. "It had to be done. I'm glad it was you."

  "I'd rather it not be anyone at all sewing you up." After filling a paper cup with water at the sink, Tory returned to Reese and held out several colored tablets in her hand, along with the cup. "Take these."

  "What are they?" Reese asked suspiciously.

  "Antibiotics and a pain pill. Believe me, you're going to need it when the lidocaine wears off."

  With Tory's help, Reese climbed down from the table, and the two of them walked slowly from the clinic to Tory's Jeep. Ten minutes later, they reversed the process and, together, made their way inside and up to their bedroom.

  "Can you get undressed by yourself?" Tory asked. "I really need to take a shower."

  "I do, too."

  "I want you to keep the wound dry tonight. You can shower in the morning."

  Reese nodded and sat tiredly on the edge of the bed. "Okay. You go ahead. I can manage."

  Tory studied her intently for a few seconds. She'd seen Reese injured before, but she'd never seen her appear quite so drained. Reluctantly, she said, "I'll only be a few minutes."

  "I'm all right, love. Reese smiled faintly. “Dont worry.

  As soon as she could mange, Tory returned to the bedroom, naked except for an oversized T-shirt. The room lights were still on, and Reese was lying on her back on the bed, still fully clothed. Fast asleep.

  *****

  The insistent buzzing of the alarm finally penetrated Tory's consciousness. She rolled over and peered at the clock, then sat up, startled. "Reese. Honey, it's time to get up."

  When she got no response, she shook her lovers shoulder gently. “Reese?

  "Tory," Reese mumbled weakly, "I cant. She barely managed to get the words out before she rolled to the side of the bed and vomited onto the floor. "Sor

  "Reese!" In a flash, Tory bolted upright and leaned over to stare at her lover. What she saw made her heart nearly stop. Reese's eyes were unfocused, her color gray, and her skin slick with sweat. Worse, her breathing was shallow and rapid. My god, she looks septic.

  "I need to check your wounds," Tory said as calmly as she could manage while unwrapping the gauze on Reese's forearm. Before she had even exposed the entire laceration, she could discern the redness and swelling extending from the wound itself nearly four inches up Reese's arm. Cellulitis. To be this bad, this soon, it's got to be a virulent organism.

  Without hesitation, Tory snatched up the bedside phone and punched 911. In a second, a male voice answered, and she snapped, "This is Doctor King. I need an ambulance immediately."

  She gave them the address and slammed down the phone, then jumped from the bed and ran to get dressed. In a minute, she was back at Reese's side with a cool towel which she used to wipe her lover's face. "Reese. Honey, can you hear me?"

  Reese's lids flickered open, and she looked up in confusion. "Tor? Whatwhat's wrong?"

  "You've got an infection, sweetheart. I need to take you to the emergency room so we can evaluate you. It's going to be okay." Tory glanced at the clock. Ten minutes. Where are they?

  Then, in the distance, she heard the siren and breathed a sigh of relief. Loath to leave Reese, she rushed downstairs, opened the front door wide, and signaled with her arm for the EMTs to come inside. "We're upstairs."

  Thankfully, Reese appeared slightly more coherent when the emergency technicians arrived. Enough to protest, "I don't needan ambulance."

  "Probably not," Tory said gently as she held Reeses uninjured hand. "But it will be easier on me if I don't have to drive to the hospital."

  "Okay," Reese replied softly. However, when she sat up, she gasped sharply, pressed her hand to her midsection, and promptly vomited again.

  "Let's get her on the stretcher," Tory said sharply. "She needs IV hydration and a loading dose of broad-spectrum antibiotics. Come on. Let's move it!"

  With practiced proficiency, the two male EMTs shifted Reese to the gurney, strapped her on, and pushed her from the room. Tory stayed as close to the side of the moving stretcher as she could. Then she climbed into the back of the van and settled near Reese's head as one of the techs, a burly redhead, rapidly started an intravenous line in her left arm.

  "What do you want to give her, Doc?" As he spoke, he wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Reese's bicep and took a rapid reading. "Ninety over forty. Heart rates one-fifty. Shes pretty dehydrated."

  "Run the saline wide open. Then we'll need a gram of Ancef and a hundred milligrams of gentamycin. We need to cover all our bases, because I don't know what this is."

  As Tory spoke, the tech sorted through the drug box and began administering the antibiotics.

  "I need to culture this wound right now," Tory said as the ambulance screamed east on Route six toward the nearest hospital, which was in Hyannis. "Get me a prep tray and some instruments."

  The redhead's eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he voiced no objection. He handed her sterile gloves and prepared to assist her. Tory removed the dressings on Reeses arm once again, carefully prepped the area with antiseptic solution, and snipped out several of the sutures she had placed the night before. When she gently squeezed the area, Reese moaned, thrashed weakly on the stretcher, and tried to pull away. Tory did not look at her face.

  "I don't see any pus in there, do you?" The EMT asked as he peered over her shoulder.

  "No. It's too soon for an abscess. This is a soft tissue infection."

  "Strep?" His concern was evident in his tone. “Jesus, do you think its necrotizing faciitis?

  "I don't know ," Tory said distractedly as she pushed a sterile culture swab into the depths of the wound. Reese stiffened at the swift jolt of pain, and Tory's stomach clenched. "I'm sorry, baby."

  "Sokay," Reese mumbled before she faded away again.

  "I don't have my cell phone with me. Can you connect me to the hospital?" Tory questioned.

  "Sure." He tapped on the sliding glass panel between the front cab and the treatment section in the rear. "Ken, pass me the radio."

  He handed it to Tory and pointed to the button on the side. "Push to talk, let go to receive. I'll get someone in triage for you."

  After he gave the person in the emergency room their ETA, he handed
the transmitter to Tory. She did as directed and spoke firmly, with no hint in her voice of the terror she felt. "This is Doctor Victoria King. I have a septic patient coming in. I need an infectious disease consultant and a surgeon standing by."

  An eternity later, they careened into the ambulance bay of the regional hospital. Within seconds they were inside and a swarm of nurses and ER doctors descended upon them. By the time Tory was done giving a synopsis of the injury and presenting symptoms, Reese was hooked up to monitors and additional IV lines. Throughout it all, Tory never left her side.

  “ Im Jill Baker, a short, trim African-American woman in a conservative blazer and slacks said as she approached the bed. “Infectious disease. What have we got?

  “ Victoria King. Tory repeated the details of the previous night and morning.

  “ Foreign body punctures while in a salt marsh. Jesus. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned dog bites. The infectious disease specialist surveyed the monitors and frowned. As she reached for Reeses injured arm, she asked, “No hypotensive episodes? Nothing to indicate shock?

  “ No. Torys throat was dry, and she suddenly felt light-headed. “Im sorry. I need to sit for a second.

  “ Here, a deep alto voice said from behind her as a firm hand took her arm. “There's a seat right behind you.

  “ Thanks, Tory mumbled, fighting a wave of nausea as she settled onto a stool. She was struggling so hard not to pass out she barely heard the swift intake of breath fromthe woman beside her.

  “ Tory?

  When she could look up without her vision dimming, Tory found herself looking into the face of a stranger who had once been her whole world. She was Torys age, still fit, and still roguishly attractive. Shed been a lady-killer when theyd been lovers. And undoubtedly she still was. “Hello, K.T.

  “ Are you all right? the dark-eyed, dark-haired woman asked, her expression one of concern and surprise.

  “ Im fine, Tory said, chancing an upright position. “What are you doing here?

  “ Moonlighting. Im the surgeon on call. Whats going on?

  “ I think its Vibrio , Jill Baker said as she walked over to them. “Shes got a rip-roaring cellulitis thats climbing up her arm, GI symptoms, and mental confusion. It all fits with an acute marine bacteria infection.

 

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