man’s veins were completely flat because of the shocked condition of their patient. Even going for the normally easily accessible ante-cubital vein in the elbow was a blind stab, and Jessica was relieved to see the flashback in the cannula chamber that indicated successful entry. She reached for a bag of saline and a giving set to start fluids but Joe shook his head.
‘Hold fire for a second, Jess. Let’s get him into the basket so we can get set up for moving faster.’
They slid a backboard into place after a struggle to cope in the confined space. Then they began to slide the man clear with assistance from the rest of the team.
‘Stop!’ Joe’s command was urgent. ‘His foot’s caught.’
Joe reached to move the obstruction, leaning closer to provide more light with his headlamp. He swore loudly. ‘The foot’s caught,’ he repeated grimly. ‘It’s been crushed under the edge of this slab. It’s half-severed at the ankle and he’s bleeding like a stuck pig again now.’
Jessica ripped open a large dressing package and crawled closer. She pressed the wad onto the wound and pushed—hard.
‘This’ll be where the major blood loss has come from, I guess. It must have finally stopped by itself or he’d be dead by now.’
‘We’ve opened it up again by trying to move him out.’ Joe was nodding as he poked at the debris trapping the man’s foot. Then he signalled to Tony. ‘There’s no way we can shift this by hand. We’ll have to get the concrete cutter back. Heaven knows how we’re going to shift what’s on top of this piece. I don’t want anything falling on our patient. He’s sick enough as it is.’
Tony looked as grim as Joe. ‘It’s not going to be easy. Or quick.’
‘It’ll have to be quick. He’s running out of time unless we can get him somewhere with advanced resuscitation facilities.’
Jessica was monitoring their patient’s breathing and she didn’t like what she could see. ‘I’m going to start IPPV,’ she told Joe. ‘His breathing’s deteriorating and it’s too shallow now.’ Reaching for a bag mask, Jessica switched the tubing from the portable oxygen cylinder. She fitted the mask to the man’s face and began assisting his inhalations by periodically squeezing the bag attached to the mask.
Shouting from nearby increased. Three sharp whistle blasts punctuated the dust-laden atmosphere. For whatever reason, the signal to evacuate the scene had been given and suddenly the tension was more than anyone wanted to deal with. The wire basket brigade melted away. Cutting gear that was being shifted towards Joe’s position was put down and personnel turned and moved swiftly away. The Civil Defence squad leader moved in just as swiftly.
‘There’s some new cracks appearing. This sector’s unstable. You’re going to have to evacuate. Now!’
Joe simply nodded. He reached for the shears in his belt and Jessica’s jaw dropped as she saw what he intended to do.
‘He was going to lose this foot anyway,’ Joe said tersely. ‘At least this way he might not lose his life.’
The noise level around them was dropping dramatically as equipment was abandoned and people ran for safety. In the few seconds of silence that accompanied Joe’s gruesome task of completing the amputation of their patient’s right foot, Jessica heard a new sound. A terrifying, inhuman kind of moan. It wasn’t loud but it was enough to make the hairs on Jessica’s neck stand on end and a prickle of perspiration break out down the length of her spine. Something—something huge—was shifting fractionally.
Just fractionally—but how far did it need to move to lose its last hold on stability? How many minutes, or seconds, might they have before that critical point was reached and the space they were in was swallowed up by forces they would have no chance to escape?
Joe tied a pressure bandage on the man’s leg to finish the fastest procedure Jessica had ever witnessed. ‘Let’s move,’ he barked.
Other hands grabbed the backboard and deposited it without ceremony in the Stokes basket. No time was taken for any kind of strapping. They all knew they had to get going. And they had to move fast. Medical supplies were abandoned, along with all the other rescue gear littering the area. The men carrying the basket were moving at a stumbling run that looked deceptively easy to keep up with. Jessica lurched, turning her ankle on the edge of some rubble, but the heavy boot saved her from injury and she kept going, not even pausing as she glanced over her shoulder to where Joe and Tony were bringing up the rear of the rapidly moving procession.
Back into the entrance to the food court and the moaning sound was heard again. This time it became a groan that ended in a crack like gunfire. Tony’s expletive only echoed Jessica’s more private reaction. She could see what had been the hamburger restaurant and it was no longer there. Part of the floor had collapsed into the space below, leaving a jagged and threatening hole. People well ahead of the final trio had already negotiated a path to avoid the new hazard; some had made it to the daylight that penetrated the thick dust ahead and advertised safety. And then someone close to those carrying the Stokes basket stopped. And shouted.
The rest of the team carrying the basket kept moving. Jessica could now see over the edge of the hole in the floor. A steel beam crossed the centre of the hole, still attached at their level but sloping down with the other end resting on the crushed bonnet of a car. The concrete slab surrounding the hole was coming free of its reinforcing rods but between the rain of small pieces of rubble and the cloud of dust particles a tiny window into the basement car park had been created.
The shout came again. Maybe it had been Gerry or Bryan or another member of USAR 3. Not that it mattered. The effect of the shout was to stop all those nearby during their headlong rush to safety.
‘There’s someone down there—and they’re moving!’
The shout had a similar effect on the figure in the basement. The movement ceased and then a small face was peering up towards the origin of the sound. A small face topped with a thatch of unruly black hair.
‘Rick-y-y!’
She could get down there. She could use the beam and slide into the cavity and she would be in the basement. She could hold out her arms and catch Ricky as he ran to her and then she could hold him close to her heart and never, ever let him go.
All she had to do was put one foot over the crumbling edge, grab hold of the beam and let herself slide down. It only needed a step or two and Jessica actually had a foot over the gap before she realised the real obstruction stopping her. She swivelled with the speed of an enraged lioness.
‘Let go, Joe!’
‘No way.’ Joe increased the hold he had on Jessica’s arm and wrenched her back from the gap. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘That’s Ricky in there.’ Jessica stared through dust-grimed goggles in total disbelief that Joe wouldn’t understand precisely what she was doing. ‘I’m going to get him.’
‘Like hell you are.’ Tony had hold of Jessica’s other arm now. Between the two men Jessica was pulled further from the gap in the floor. She struggled.
‘This is my choice. Don’t try and stop me.’
‘Calm down, Jessica.’ Tony’s tone was a warning. His glance at Joe said it all. This was precisely what they had feared might happen.
