Harriet turned from the telephone, a look of shock on her face. “There’s been a gas leak at the senior citizen center,” she announced. “There was an explosion, and countless injuries. Some parts of the building have collapsed, and they’re going to have to dig people out. We need to stand ready when the ambulances start rolling in. I’m going to page everyone on staff to get down here.”
Rebekah gave a sharp nod, already thinking about everything that needed to be done. She trotted through the emergency room, checking that every bed was ready for a new patient. There was one little girl who’d been brought in with an allergic reaction, but the medication they’d given her was taking effect, and Rebekah didn’t sense any further complications. She discharged the girl so the bed would be free, and she changed out the sheets and made sure everything was ready.
The first ambulance pulled up, and Jeremy and Frank guided their stretcher inside. “Eighty-year-old man with a crush injury to his chest,” Jeremy called out.
Rebekah came to the man’s side and touched him. What she saw made her wince. “He needs chest x-rays stat,” she told the orderly who had just responded to his pager. “He’s got at least three broken ribs.”
The orderly nodded, and Rebekah turned to the next bed.
Bagley only had a few ambulances available, and soon she started to notice vehicles from surrounding counties. The whole area must have been alerted about this emergency—thank goodness they were getting some help.
“St. Christian’s Medical Center is sending over some personnel,” Dr. Hunsaker called out as he helped bring in yet another patient. “It’ll take them about twenty minutes to get here, but they’ve promised to drive fast.” He turned to Rebekah. “Listen—we have a situation here. I need your . . . abilities . . . but you can’t be seen issuing orders around here or people are going to get suspicious. I want you to get out there and do triage on the scene. We’re going to lose lives if we don’t hurry.”
Rebekah nodded. The senior care facility in Bagley was the largest one in four surrounding towns, and there were easily a hundred residents there, not to mention the staff. They had to do whatever was necessary to get those people the help they needed.
She grabbed a medical kit and raced to the door. “Take me with you back to the scene,” she told the first ambulance driver she saw. “I’m on Dr. Hunsaker’s orders.”
“You sure? It’s not pretty,” he told her.
“I don’t care.”
He nodded once, and she climbed up beside him. They pulled out onto the road and he flipped the switch for the siren, making cars in front of them scatter. Under any other circumstances, it would be fun to ride in the front of an ambulance and careen around corners, but knowing what lay ahead, there was nothing fun about this at all.
She pressed her lips together as they approached. Smoke poured from the back half of the building, where firefighters were working on some last remaining flames. The front half of the building was nothing but rubble, and more emergency personnel were digging through the bricks as quickly as they could. There were also dozens of volunteers, men and women Rebekah recognized as being shopkeepers or businessmen or Avon ladies working alongside the response team, not caring about their clothing or their nice shoes as they loaded up wheelbarrows with bricks and carted them away to make room for more searching.
She found Jeremy. “Dr. Hunsaker sent me out here to do triage,” she said. “I need all the injured to come to me before they’re driven off. Can you see to that?”
“I’ll do my best,” he replied. “I can’t guarantee there won’t be questions asked.”
“We’re hoping there will be fewer out here in the chaos,” she replied. “To be honest, though, if I am found out, that doesn’t matter as much as getting these people the help they need.”
He gave her a nod. “Here comes one now.”
A woman who looked like she might be one of the housekeepers was brought over on a stretcher. “Concussion—blow to the right side of her head. She’ll be fine with rest, but she needs fluids.”
Jeremy jotted that down on a piece of paper he ripped from a notebook in his pocket. “Here,” he said, handing it to the ambulance driver. “We’re speeding things up—give this to the ER staff.”
The driver nodded, and off they went.
Rebekah moved from person to person as they were brought from the rubble. A few times, the paramedics loaded up a patient before Rebekah had seen them, but Jeremy was keeping an eye on things, and he made sure she got a chance to examine them before they drove away. She was amazed at this side of him—he seemed to know what was going on every single minute, even with so many responders and volunteers.
“Rebekah, this is Miss Jones,” Jeremy said, bringing a middle-aged woman up to meet her. Miss Jones had a cloth pressed to her forehead, and she looked dazed. “She’s the director of the facility.”
“Yes, we’ve met,” Rebekah said. “I do wellness checks out here from time to time. Miss Jones, how are you feeling?”
“I don’t know what happened,” the woman replied. “We were just starting to get dinner put out, and then there was this horrible noise . . .”
Rebekah put her arm around Miss Jones’ shoulders. “Shock, scrapes and bruises,” she said to Jeremy. “She doesn’t need to go in, but she’ll want to see her doctor tomorrow. Miss Jones, how many people were in the building at the time? Do you know?”
“One hundred and twelve residents, and sixteen staff,” Miss Jones replied automatically. “But I don’t know how many visitors. We have a sign-in book, but I can’t find it . . .” She looked over her shoulder at the devastation.
“That’s all right, Miss Jones. We’re going to do everything we can to find them all.”
A volunteer led Miss Jones over to the side of the property, where some folding chairs had been found and set up. Mugs of coffee and hot chocolate were being passed around, and Rebekah was thankful once again for this community that rallied around in times of crisis. She didn’t think she’d see caring like this anywhere else. Or she might be a little biased because this was her hometown. Either way, she was proud of it.
One man was brought out and sent straight to the morgue, nearly breaking Rebekah’s heart. She knew it was silly to think they’d all survived—they were already in poor health or they wouldn’t be in the center, and adding this kind of explosion on top of that? It was a miracle how many had survived. She tried not to think about the statistics as she continued working. Even one death was one too many.
As the sun set, many of the volunteers ran home to get their cars, then parked them with their headlights shining on the wreckage. Even when it grew to be fully dark, no one wanted to give up. Partial light was better than no light at all, and they would not make any remaining survivors wait for their rescue.
“Are you all right?” Jeremy asked, coming up and pressing some hot chocolate into Rebekah’s hands.
“I’m fine. It just takes a lot out of me.” She glanced around. “How many dead now?”
“Ten.”
She nodded. Awful—just awful. He touched her arm. “You’re doing a ton of good out here, Rebekah. You’re helping us get these people treated much faster than we could relying on our regular equipment—focus on the lives we’re saving, not the ones we’ve lost.”
“I keep telling myself that. I promise, I will.”
He moved on to help excavate the next pile of rubble. It seemed they were never-ending—as soon as they cleared one spot, it was time to clear another.
“This woman will need emergency surgery for a shattered pelvis. That man needs to have his arm set and put in a cast, but no surgery. Immobilize with a split for now. This one . . .” Rebekah closed her eyes. “She’s gone.”
Finally around two o’clock in the morning, the responders had removed as much rubble as they could, and those who had been tracking the victims said they’d counted the proper number of residents and staff. “But we still don’t know about visitors,” Rebekah mumbled when Jeremy told her it was time to go home.
He put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Listen—the visitors would have been there to see residents, right? And so we would have found them with the residents they were there to see.”
Rebekah slowly nodded. That made sense. She was just so, so tired.
“I’m taking you home,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and guiding her way from the spot where she’d been working for hours. “Actually, no, I don’t think I am. You need to be with someone who understands all this—I don’t want to leave you alone. Where should I take you?”
“Tracy’s,” Rebekah said. She wanted to be alone, but she understood the wisdom of what Jeremy was saying. She’d worn herself out both physically and emotionally using her gift over and over again, and she had no way of knowing how long it would take her to recover—she’d never pushed herself like this before.
“Tell me where to go.”
Before she could open her mouth to heckle him, he grinned. “Let me rephrase. Tell me how to get there.”
“Party pooper.” She rested her head against the window as he pulled the ambulance out onto the road. The siren stayed quiet this time, which was a relief—it had been nothing but sirens all day.
When they pulled up in front of Tracy’s house, Jeremy came around and helped her down. “Call me in the morning, okay?”
“I will. Thanks for the ride.”
“Thank you for everything you just did. That was incredible.”
The front door opened, and Tracy stepped out onto the porch. “I’ve got hot chocolate on the stove,” she called out. “Would you like some, Jeremy?”
“Thanks, but another time,” he replied. “I’ve got to turn in the rig and then hit the hay.”
“I bet you’re exhausted. I’ll give you a raincheck, all right? You’re welcome here anytime.”
“Thanks, Tracy.” He gave her a wave, then turned back to Rebekah. “Take care of yourself, you hear?”
“Yeah. You too.”
Rebekah dragged herself up the porch steps and into her sister’s house, where she was surprised to see all her sisters waiting for her. “And Heather wants you to call her as soon as you get here,” Candice said.
Rebekah flopped onto the couch. “What’s the matter? Why are you all here?”
“We’re here for you, silly,” Marti said.
“Aren’t you at college?” Rebekah waggled a finger at her youngest sister.
“No, because I’m here. Thanks for getting me out of class, by the way—that was awesome. Most boring lecture of my life, can I say?”
“I’m confused.”
“Poor girl. Explain it to her,” Jessica said.
“Well, I was sitting in this lecture, which was really boring, as I just said, and I saw the explosion. I recognized the building, and I ran out of there as fast as I could and tried to find a payphone to warn them, but it was too late—I had the precog just a couple of minutes before it actually happened. But then I felt like I needed to come home and be here for you.”
“That’s really sweet, Marti,” Rebekah said. “I’m not sure why you had that feeling, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Sometimes we don’t need concrete reasons,” Gaylynn said. “Sometimes we just want to be surrounded by our people.”
“Here.” Candice put a mug of hot chocolate in Rebekah’s hands. “And there’s lasagna in the oven—you need something hot and cheesy to eat.”
“At two o’clock in the morning?” Rebekah protested.
“Doesn’t matter what time it is,” Candice replied. “You’re worn out—you’ve got to recharge.”
Jessica handed her the phone. “And here’s Heather.”
Rebekah shook her head. She thought they were all taking this way too seriously, but it was touching in a weird smothering sort of way. “Hey, Heather. You got roped into this too, huh?”
“Is that an Idaho rancher joke? Roping?” Heather chuckled. “How are you doing, little sister?”
“Exhausted. I’ve never been so tired in all my life, but these weirdos keep talking to me and putting cocoa in my hands and threatening to feed me. It’s getting on my nerves.”
Heather laughed. “Sounds like family to me. I sure miss you.”
“We miss you too. Why’d you have to move away?”
“Because the love of my life lives here. Just wait until you . . .” She paused, then gasped. “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”
“How did you know that? I thought you had to see people in person before you could read their hues.”
“This is the first time it’s ever happened over the phone. Oh, Rebekah, you’re going to be so happy. You’re yellow, and he’s orange, but when you come together, you’re peach, like you’re softer together. It’s beautiful.”
“If I’d known you could do that over the phone, I would have called you before now.”
“Well, like I said, this is the first time. It might not happen ever again—you just might be special.”
“I’m always special. Dad says I’m his favorite.”
“He says that to all of us.”
“I know. But he’s lying to the rest of you.”
“If it makes you feel better to think that . . .” Rebekah could hear the smile in Heather’s voice. “Night, sis. Get some rest, all right? And let me know how you feel tomorrow. None of us have tested our powers like you have tonight, and it’s kind of freaking us out because we don’t know what effect it’s going to have on you.”
“Oh, so that’s the real reason they’re all sitting here staring at me like they’re expecting me to turn into some kind of creature.”
“I’m sure there are multiple reasons. Love you.”
“Love you too. Night.”
Rebekah handed the phone back to Jessica, who almost got the cord tangled in Gaylynn’s hair as she carried it over to the receiver. “Watch it,” Gaylynn said good-naturedly.
“So, you knew I’d be coming here?” Rebekah asked Marti, and she nodded.
“And we all thought it sounded like a great excuse for a slumber party.” Jessica sat down next to Rebekah and rubbed her shoulder. “We haven’t spent enough time together lately.”
“Yeah, that’s because you fell in love, you stinker.” Rebekah nudged Jessica in return.
Candice carried in a plate of lasagna and commanded Rebekah to eat it while Tracy got her spare bed made up. “We’ll all be here in the morning,” Gaylynn said as Rebekah ate her last bite. “And if you need anything, just let us know.”
“You’re all crazy, but thank you,” Rebekah replied.
She went into the spare room, stripped off her clothes, and climbed into the pajamas Tracy had laid out for her. Then she climbed into the bed, lay down, and stared at the ceiling. She’d thought she’d go right to sleep, but no such luck—she kept seeing the long line of people being brought to her for evaluation, the grim expressions on the faces of the rescuers, the overwhelmed looks on the faces of the volunteers. She’d saved dozens of people—she knew that for a fact. But she couldn’t help but ache for those she couldn’t save, for those who were already dead when she got there.
About an hour had passed when she heard a soft knock, and Jessica and Gaylynn came in the room.
“Hey,” Jessica said. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I’m thinking too much.”
She smiled. “You’ve always thought too much—kind of like me. I just dreamed about you, Becks, and you’ve got to get some perspective on this thing.”
“That’s why you brought the mental health counselor with you?” Rebekah asked, nodding at Gaylynn.
“I’m very useful to have around,” Gaylynn replied. “Now, what’s going on here? Why are you making Jessica have bad dreams about you?”
Rebekah sat up so she could see her sisters better, scooting back and leaning against the headboard. “So, we have these gifts,” she began. “And we’ve been using them for good things, and we all feel that’s why we were given them. I’ve saved probably a hundred and fifty lives since I started using my gift at the hospital, but there are so many others I haven’t been able to save. So many things that have been out of my control.”
“And you don’t like being out of control,” Gaylynn said. “You’ve never liked it—not since you were a little girl.”
“I just like it when people do things my way,” Rebekah defended. “It’s a good way. It’s a logical way. I can save people lots of unnecessary work if they just do it like I tell them.”
Jessica and Gaylynn exchanged glances. “I like being in control too, but I have to tell you, that’s sometimes even more crazy-making than being out of control,” Jessica said.
“Rebekah, here’s the thing,” Gaylynn said. “You can’t save the world. You aren’t that powerful. Yes, you have a gift, but it doesn’t extend to everyone and everything, and that’s exactly how it should be. If you really could control life and death . . . that would be overwhelming. The pressure would crush you. You can’t make those kinds of decisions—no one can. That’s why we aren’t in charge of it. You need to concentrate on the few people you have been given the ability to help, and accept that you can’t save everyone.”
“Have you saved everyone you’ve ever helped?” Jessica asked.
Rebekah shook her head. “About six months ago, a man came into the ER with a brain bleed, and he stroked out on the table.”
“Your gift gave him his best possible chance, but you’re still not responsible for who lives and who dies,” Gaylynn said. “Only God can do that.”
Rebekah nodded, finally feeling the weight that had been crushing her chest begin to lift. “Thank you. I knew that, but it just wasn’t sinking in through all the layers.”
“You’ll feel a ton better in the morning,” Gaylynn said. “You’ve got to get some sleep—lying awake and festering about things is only going to make them worse.”
After her sisters left the room, Rebekah thought about everything they’d said. She was so, so grateful that life and death weren’t up to her—she’d be terrible at it. No one would ever die, which would completely throw off the balance of the ecosystem, and she’d end up getting fired from the task anyway. “I’m a helper,” she whispered to herself. “I’m not in charge.” With that, she was finally able to go to sleep.