HEROES AND HEROINES don’t choose to be brave, Maddie decided. Mostly they have bravery thrust upon them. In her particular case, a heroine was created when vast chunks of rock trapped one doctor in an underground mine, a mine she should never have been near in the first place.
This heroine wasn’t brave. This heroine was stupid.
Everyone knew the mine was dangerous. Ian Lockhart, the owner, had left Wildfire Island weeks ago, with salaries unpaid and debts outstanding. The mine had been closed for non-compliance with safety standards not long after Ian’s disappearance.
So whose bright idea had it been to see if they could tap one of the seams close to the surface?
There were reasons this seam hadn’t been tapped before. The rock was brittle. Without salaries, though, and desperate for income, the islanders had cut through the fence and quietly burrowed. No one was supposed to know.
But now … The call had come through an hour ago. A splintered piece of shoring timber and a minor rockfall had left one of the islanders with a fractured leg.
If it hadn’t been badly fractured they might have brought Kalifa down to the hospital, keeping their mining secret. Instead, his mates had had the sense to ring Maddie, asking her to come across the mountains to the overgrown mine site.
Maddie—Madeline Haddon—was heavily pregnant but she was the only doctor available. The miners had told her there were shards of bone puncturing Kalifa’s skin, so transporting him by road before assessment meant the risk of cutting off the blood supply.
She’d had to go.
Once at the mine site, it had taken work to stabilise him. Kalifa needed specialist surgery if he wasn’t to be left with a permanent limp, and she was worried about the strain on his heart. She’d just rung Keanu, the other island doctor, who was currently on his way back from a clinic on an outer island. She’d been asking him to organise Kalifa’s evacuation to Cairns when there was an ominous rumble from underground.
The mouth of the mine had belched a vast cloud of dirt and dust.
She’d thought Kalifa and the two friends who’d called her had been working alone. She’d never imagined there were men still in there. Surely not? But out they came, staggering, blinded by dust.
She’d been helping lift Kalifa into the back of the jeep—her jeep was set up as a no-frills ambulance, used in emergencies for patient transport. She’d turned and gazed in horror as the miners stumbled out.
‘How many of you are down there?’ The guy out first had a jagged gash on his arm. She grabbed a dressing and applied pressure.
‘Tw-twelve,’ the guy told her.
‘Are you all out now?’ When they’d rung about Kalifa she’d assumed … Why hadn’t she asked?
‘Three still to come.’
‘Why? Where are they?’
‘Malu’s smashed his leg,’ the guy told her. ‘He’s bleeding like a stuck pig.’
‘Is he stuck? Has the shaft caved right in?’
‘Just … just a bit of a rockfall where Kalifa fell against the shoring timber. Malu got unlucky—we were trying to shore it up again and he was right underneath where it fell. Macca and Reuben are helping him out but they had to stop to tighten the tourniquet. But the shaft’s clear enough in front of the fall. They’ll be out soon.’ His voice faltered. ‘As long as they can stop the bleeding.’
She stared at the mine mouth in dismay.
The dust was settling. It was looking almost normal.
Bleeding out …
Oh, help.
She’d done a swift, sweeping assessment of those around her. No one seemed in immediate distress. Men were already helping each other. The nurse who’d accompanied her, Caroline Lockhart, was taking care of a miner who looked like he’d fractured his arm. He was still standing, not in obvious danger. A couple of the men were crouched on the ground, coughing. They should be checked.
Triage.
One broken arm. Bruises, lacerations, nothing else obvious. Kalifa was waiting to be transferred to hospital.
Bleeding out …
Triage told her exactly where she was needed.
But she was pregnant. Pregnant! Instinctively her hand went to her belly, cringing at what she was contemplating.
What was the risk?
This had been a minor rockfall, she’d told herself. The shaft was still clear.
Along that shaft, Malu was bleeding to death. She had no choice.
‘Help me,’ she snapped at an uninjured miner. She grabbed his hand, pressing it onto the pad she’d made on his mate’s bleeding arm. ‘Push hard and keep up the pressure until Caroline has time to help you. The bleeding’s already easing but don’t let go. Caroline, can you radio Keanu?’
‘He’s on his way in from Atangi.’
‘Tell him to land the boat on this side of the island and get here as fast as he can. Meanwhile, don’t move Kalifa. He needs a doctor with him during transfer. The blood supply to the leg’s stable, as long as he doesn’t shift. But he has enough pain relief on board to keep him comfortable. Meanwhile, give me your torch,’ she snapped at another miner. ‘And your hard hat.’
‘Y-you can’t go in there,’ the miner stammered. ‘Doc, you’re pregnant. It’s dangerous.’
‘Of course it’s dangerous. You’ve been working in a mine that’s supposed to be closed, you morons. But what choice do I have? Malu’s got two children and his wife’s my friend. Caro, you’re in charge.’
And she picked up her bag, shoved on a hard hat and headed into the shaft.
‘Doc, wait, I’ll come with you,’ one of the miners yelled after her.
‘Don’t even think about it. You have children, too,’ she snapped back. ‘We now have four idiots in the mine. Don’t anyone dare make it five.’
