Chapter Two
Metal and glass covered the road.
Greer picked her way carefully around a shattered section of bumper and other debris to reach a badly damaged SUV. Bystanders were shouting and pointing to the rear of the vehicle. She glanced around, quickly processing what she could of the scene. Two vehicles, the other a truck, a nearly bisected guardrail, multiple stopped cars with rubbernecking gawkers, and a screaming woman being gently bear-hugged by a police officer.
The smell. It filled her nose and coated her tongue, metallic and rich. She’d been warned by seasoned medics that bad accidents had a distinct scent of grease and gas and fractured steel, of blood. She made a face and swallowed hard, hoping the unpleasant notes faded quickly.
The orange trauma bag on her back seemed weightless as she followed the men. As her mentors, they would expect her to jump in without hesitation. The center of her chest hurt from the furious pounding of her heart. She’d been at a handful of vehicle crashes since starting her training, but this was by far the worst. It didn’t look anything like what the textbooks said it would.
“Greer!”
She hurried to Luke’s side, careful not to get tangled in the debris that lay around the broken SUV. She slipped the trauma pack off her shoulders, and its weight was quickly replaced as a firefighter behind her pulled a heavy turnout jacket over her shoulders and plopped a helmet on her head.
“You’re the smallest; you’re going to have to crawl in.”
Luke nodded his agreement, took her shoulder with one hand, spun her toward him, and shoved a pair of clear safety goggles over her eyes. Her mouth went dry. She was an expert at steeling herself and getting through anything. But she’d never had to crawl inside a mangled car to rescue a baby before.
“Inside?”
“Yep.” He patted the top of her helmet. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but all it did was make the headache creeping behind her temple worse. She pulled away from Luke’s intense eyes to look at the crash.
The front compartment of the SUV had been smashed past the center of the vehicle. How the mother had escaped, she had no idea. The vehicle had crumpled around itself, leaving a narrow opening where the rear passenger window used to be. There was no sound from the backseat—nothing indicating there was a child inside.
Her stomach fluttered. Not good. There was a child inside, and she needed to get to her now. As mangled as the SUV was, it would take the fire department minutes yet to cut a bigger opening.
“I need you to slide inside and stabilize the baby while the fire department cuts enough space for you both to get out,” Luke reiterated.
“There’s no room to get the trauma kit in.” Her voice sounded small, probably because the helmet muffled her ears. “You’ll be out here to hand me stuff in?”
He shoved his arms into a turnout coat and nodded. “I wouldn’t leave you.”
Her face flushed. Not the time to dwell on how many times she’d wished to hear those words—and more—out of his mouth. Trying to swallow and failing, she gave a small nod and turned to the vehicle. Luke stepped back so a fireman could smash out the remaining glass around the opening. She twisted slightly and grabbed the inside frame, hoisting herself head first into the space. Luke grabbed her feet and guided her body as she pulled herself slowly through.
She dragged her knees to her chest to fit, trying to find purchase to anchor herself. The infant seat was in the middle, rear facing. Greer managed to find space for one foot on the floor and the other on the seat beside the baby. The caved-in roof forced her to hunch as she peered around the car seat. A tuft of dark hair stuck out from a pink blanket that must have shifted over the baby’s face during the accident. She pulled the blanket away with a prayer on her numb lips.
“What do you see, Greer?”
Her breathing was loud in her ears as she pealed back what she could of the blanket and scanned for any obvious injuries. The baby—maybe four or five months old—had her eyes closed, her face peaceful as if she were sleeping. Her little body had come free from one strap and leaned to the right. Carefully, Greer placed a hand over the child’s chest, praying hard that she’d feel the tiny chest rise and fall.
Nothing.
“She’s not breathing.”
Grabbing the trauma scissors she kept in her left thigh pocket, she cut away the strap that held the baby into the seat.
“Are you sure?” Luke asked. “Check again.”
She fumbled to remove as much of the blanket as she could. Placing a hand over the baby’s chest, Greer clenched her eyes and focused on feel. Her heart climbed into her throat. There was movement beneath her palm! Or was there? She seemed muddled in the cramped space, as if she couldn’t quite get her brain to cooperate.
Gently, she rubbed the child’s chest with her fingers, trying to stimulate her. Feeling again, she couldn’t quite tell if she was feeling the chest rise or not. What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she tell?
“I… I’m not sure.”
“Does she have a pulse?” he asked.
She slid her fingers up the child’s sleeve and felt for a pulse just above the crook of her arm. A soft bounding met her touch.
“Yes. But it’s too slow.”
She felt again, just to be sure. Why was she second-guessing herself? Tension squeezed her gut as the metal capsule around her seemed to get smaller. She needed to get this baby out of here. Babies were notorious for holding on until they couldn’t anymore and crashed fast.
“I need to manage her airway,” Greer called out.
Luke shoved an oblong blue nylon bag through the hole. Her mouth went dry. It was the pediatric airway kit, with a tiny oxygen mask already connected to a tank outside. She barely had room to grab it.
“Come on, Lucky. You’ve got this. I’m right here if you need me.”
Why’d he call her that stupid nickname? She wasn’t lucky. She was afraid she was going to do the wrong thing and royally screw this up.
“I don’t think I have enough room in here to do it.”
There was a pause as if Luke was waiting for her to tell him something.
“Are you going to move her?”
Was she? She’d have to take the child out of the car seat to get her out of the car. If she’d sustained internal trauma, moving her like that could hurt her more. But by the time the fire department cut them out, the child might lose her airway. She had to swallow down a tickle of panic. She was in a no-win situation here.
She placed a tiny oxygen mask over the baby’s face. She was at risk of doing this child harm, either way. The question was, which was the lesser evil?
“Greer.” It was Will, and his voice was rigid.
She swallowed. “I’m…”
“Bring her out,” Will demanded. “It’s an emergency move. Just bring her out.”
She picked the child up, supporting her head and neck, and by increments, maneuvered her around the car seat and through the small space to the window. Luke’s hands were waiting as she passed the infant through.
She wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. Her heart was pounding, her body trembling from adrenaline. Sweat trickled down her spine, and she noticed fully how stifling the air inside was.
“Greer, come on.” A male voice came through the opening. A small sound followed his words… A baby crying? Hope fluttered in her heart. Someone touched her foot, guiding her as she scooted backward toward the window.
“I got ya.” Someone gripped her ankles, then her calves, to steady her as she squeezed back out the way she’d come in. The helmet popped off her head and clanked onto the pavement, but she barely noticed. The spot where the police officer and the baby’s mother had been was empty. She hurried to the ambulance and slid open the side door. Luke’s calm voice floated out mixed with the sound of a baby’s weak cry as he placed her on an infant-size backboard. The young mother sat next to Will on the bench seat, her fists pressed to her lips.
Greer started to come inside when Will gave her a short glance.
“Drive.”
Her brow furrowed lightly. She was still on orientation, and this was her patient. Besides, if she’d missed something, she needed to learn from it, not miss out by driving. Seconds were precious, though, and the baby needed a hospital.
She moved around the ambulance and climbed to the driver’s seat. Traffic was congested from the accident, making the ramp onto the freeway difficult to navigate. Greer frequently glanced in the upper mirror, which gave her a peek into the back of the ambulance, but she couldn’t look long enough to see what was going on.
When they reached the hospital, she was a tight mess of nerves. She couldn’t ditch the sinking feeling that she’d screwed up. She had screwed up! She and Luke had been nailing their 911 calls with ease, to the point that she’d started to think the hype about paramedicine being a tough job was a little overrated. She’d had exams in law school a million times more nerve-racking than most of the emergency calls she’d had as a medic. All her mother’s insults and jabs about leaving law were finally starting to fade as her confidence grew.
But holding the child’s life in her hands shoved her right out of her comfort zone. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d failed somehow.
Unsure if she should follow the men into the ER, she hung back to clean up the ambulance and wait. It took a lifetime for Luke and Will to come back out, and her anxiety got worse, her mind creating a hundred horrible scenarios for that poor child. This was a hundred times worse than waiting on a jury’s decision, the tension unlike anything she’d experienced before.
“Hey,” Luke called out as they finally came through the double doors. “Is the ambulance ready to go?”
She let out a silent breath and nodded, catching the side-eye Will gave her.
He didn’t look happy as he approached her.
“You know what pisses me off about newbies? The failure to make a decision and carry it out.”
Greer pulled in her bottom lip. Will was a twenty-year veteran of this gig, and Luke’s main partner, and when he spoke, you’d better damn well listen. Being berated by him wasn’t high on anyone’s list, even hers, despite having been chewed out by every professor through four years of law.
“You realized the baby wasn’t breathing effectively. You realized you did not have the capacity to manage her airway in that environment. Did that create a life-threat for the child?” His finger made jabs in the air, punctuating each sentence.
She nodded. “Yes, absolutely.”
He spread his hands wide. “So, you move her and manage the airway. Make a decision and carry it out.”
“You’re right; I didn’t act quickly enough.”
Will stared at her a moment longer before giving the barest of a nod and walking away. She let out a full breath, so disappointed in herself. She’d made a lot of small mistakes along the way, but this time, the weight of her screwup was heavier. There was so much to learn, things that only time and experience would instill in her—if she made it long enough to benefit from months and years in this job.
Luke leaned against the ambulance, one foot crossed over the other as he chatted with Will. Her insides sank at the thought of disappointing him. When she’d been bored to tears in law school, he would call and entertain her with accounts of 911 calls he’d been on. He always kept the details generic, but the one thing clear was the pride in his voice when he talked about his job. She was impressed by his ability to take care of any situation.
Too bad she couldn’t just tap into the knowledge and confidence he’d gained over the years. She wanted to do a good job, and she wanted to make him proud. Walking past him to put the linens away, she jerked as Luke grabbed her sleeve from behind. She looked over her shoulder and into his concerned eyes. She waited for him to say just the right thing to smooth out her rumpled feelings, like he always did. Then again, she’d made her proverbial bed, and she wasn’t going to rely on him to save her bruised ego.
“I’d tell you to brush it off, but I know it’s not that easy. The baby is stable. If I hear more about her progress, I’ll let you know, okay?”
Finding out a patient’s condition once they were dropped off at the hospital was tricky, thanks to confidentiality and all that. They’d likely not hear how things turned out, which made it harder to think positive and not second-guess.
“Okay,” she replied.
“Let’s go.” He motioned her to get into the passenger seat. His silence did little to reassure her or make the pressure inside lessen. Later, she took her time going through supplies and finding busy work to do, hoping it would help settle her mind.
It did, sort of. Beneath her concern over her little patient was a fat helping of embarrassment over her ineptitude. She’d been top of her class in college, had breezed through the medic program with scores impressive enough to land her here to finish her clinical training, with a job offer if she performed well. Screwing up wasn’t in her nature.
She had just made coffee in the industrial-size machine when Luke sidled up to the counter.
“Got a minute?” He glanced at his phone then held out his coffee cup with a little wag.
Taking the mug, she filled it from the dispenser and handed it back to him. He slid the phone into his back pocket and gave her a steady gaze.
“The intake nurse actually called me with an update on the baby. She sustained a nerve injury in her neck during the crash, which caused her breathing and pulse to slow down. It’s going to take a few days, but it should resolve on its own. She’ll be just fine.”
Her fingertips went cold. She’d shoved a baby with a nerve injury through a broken window. Carefully, yes, but still. What the hell had she done?
“Did I…did I injure her more by moving her the way I did?”
He blinked. “She’s going to be okay, Greer.”
“That’s not an answer.”
His shoulders bumped up and down in a noncommittal shrug. “Getting her out of the vehicle was best for her at the time. She’s alive. She’s going to recover. You did your job.”
Doing her job wasn’t worth a thing if she hurt someone in the process. Causing harm and further injury was not in her damn job description, nor did it sit well with her conscience.
“Did I?” she pressed.
Nothing about how she’d handled that baby’s care had felt right, and she hadn’t been able to shake the nagging voice in her head that said she’d dropped the ball.
“Could you have hurt her? Sure. But you didn’t.” His expression went soft, his eyes tender. “I’ve got to run, but we’ll catch up later, okay?”
She filled a new coffee filter with fresh grounds and set it aside. “Sure.”
With a final glance, he turned and left. The room began to shrink, the space narrowing, the air growing thick. She’d never been one for “what-ifs,” yet the thought of all that could have gone wrong for that baby hung over her like a black cloud. The stronger voice in her mind said she needed to shut down the second-guessing or she was never going to survive this job.
But she couldn’t stop playing the doubt on repeat. She’d assured Luke she could handle things, and she really needed to get her shit together and prove that she meant it.
To him, and herself.