been shut down. Jessica tested a length of timber protruding from the pile in front of her and then used it as an anchor so that she could lean as close to the debris as possible. She waited her turn, listening as others in the line made their calls.
‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’
The silence was punctuated by the sound of someone firing up an air hammer and the shouts of someone else curtailing the noisy activity. Bryan had to repeat his call and then wait for a new period of quiet to listen for a possible response.
‘Nothing heard,’ he reported.
June was the next in line. ‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’
There was another short silence. ‘Nothing heard.’
Jessica’s turn came and went with the same result and then they moved forward and up. Joe’s foot slipped as he pushed himself higher. Glass shattered and something metallic dislodged itself with a clang.
‘You OK?’
‘Yeah.’ Joe steadied himself and Jessica could see the edges of a smile around the mask. ‘You?’
Jessica simply nodded. The chain of calls had started again.
‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’
When Jessica moved again, her gloved hand caught what appeared to be a piece of fabric.
‘Oh, God,’ she muttered. Was this clothing from a buried victim? Joe’s head turned sharply.
‘Pull on it,’ he advised.
Jessica pulled and the empty sleeve of a garment appeared amidst a shower of dust.
‘There’s part of a clothing store in here,’ Joe nodded. ‘Bits of fabric are sticking out all over the place. I think there have been a few false alarms.’
The next move took the team over the top of the relatively small mound of debris. As they completed the unsuccessful line and hail search a radio message from Tony prompted a new wave of noise as machinery started up again. New teams of rescue workers went into action. A wire bucket brigade would remove the small pieces of rubble from the mound until they could be absolutely certain any victims had been located. Then a bobcat would probably move in to clear another area of floor space.
They had to stop and wait now as Tony checked with the engineers and safety officers who had been scouting the area beyond the mound, looking for any signs of secondary collapse and testing the atmosphere for pockets of gas which would make the area too dangerous for the USAR team to enter. There seemed to be some question of how safe it was to continue, judging by the length of time the briefing was taking.
Jessica looked around, using her headlamp as a torch and trying to make her own assessment of the collapse patterns she saw nearby. Internal walls had fallen in one shop but the ceiling was still there. She could see the cracks in the slab of concrete that presumably had had the weight of a second-storey shop on it and was now without much of its support from below. The internal walls had fallen towards each other, giving a cantilevered collapse pattern. The possibility of voids large enough to contain survivors was high but the danger from that ceiling was also high. Was that what Tony and the others were trying to weigh up?
Apparently it was. An even longer wait allowed timber to be brought in to provide more support for the ceiling. Jessica watched, trying to stay focused and not allowing her thoughts to turn inwards, but it was difficult. She felt more than tired. An edge of sheer exhaustion was trying to move in and she found herself hoping they might be getting near the end of their shift. Trying to estimate the length of time they had been in here was not easy but she figured it had to be somewhere between one and three hours.
The shoring team had their routine well established now and once they started cutting and fitting the solid framing progress seemed much faster. Manageable-sized pieces of debris were removed from what appeared to be a party supplies shop. They were all startled by the release of some brightly coloured helium balloons that floated overhead, looking incongruously festive, but the balloons were ignored as the opening to a void was discovered.
‘Rescue team here. Can you hear me?’ It was Tony who put his face into the opening.
The silence seemed longer than the customary fifteen to twenty seconds. Jessica saw Tony rearrange his position and then reach into the void. His head and shoulders vanished. The team waited and Jessica found her exhaustion receding as the tension mounted. Had Tony found something? Was it an adult…or a child?
Tony’s legs wriggled and he backed out of the space. He signalled the knot of army personnel standing nearby. USAR 3 stepped closer as well.
‘There’s someone in here and I think they’re alive, but I can only reach the top of the head and one arm. We need to clear the debris to give our medics access.’
They worked fast, galvanised by the adrenaline rush that came with the possibility they might have found a survivor. Wire baskets were filled with smaller pieces of debris and passed along the human chain the army had provided. The team from Civil Defence assessed and moved larger pieces that could be managed without machinery. The concrete slab which had provided the roof of the void was cut into sections with hydraulic gear. They couldn’t remove it all without endangering the victim beneath but they tried to clear enough to give access for extrication. The noise was horrendous and the conditions became steadily more cramped as extra personnel and equipment were ferried in from outside. Jessica stood near Joe beside a Stokes basket laden with medical supplies. The solid plastic stretcher basket was large enough to hold a lot of gear, for which Joe and Jessica were thankful as soon as they got close enough to touch their patient. They were going to need all their skills and supplies to make this a successful mission.
The victim was a man, possibly in his early forties, and he was deeply unconscious.
‘Secure the airway, Jess and get some oxygen on. Fifteen litres with a high-concentration mask.’
The rubble obscuring their patient’s legs was still being removed as the medics started work. Joe checked the chest and abdomen while Jessica slid a hard, moulded tube into the man’s mouth to protect his airway. She wiggled an oxygen mask into place and attached the tubing to the portable cylinder before opening the valve.
‘June, could you fish a cervical collar out of the Stokes basket for me, please?’
‘Grab that roll of IV supplies as well,’ Joe added. He looked up at Jessica. ‘No major trauma visible here—he’s been remarkably well protected. He’s still as flat as a pancake, though. Blood pressure’s non-palpable for both radial and brachial pulses. What’s the carotid like?’
‘Fast and weak.’ Jessica took her fingers away from the patient’s throat to take the collar from June.
‘I’ll get an IV in this side. Can you put one in his other arm?’
‘Sure.’ Jessica did up the Velcro straps to hold the collar in place and then reached for supplies. Tourniquet, alcohol swab, cannula and luer plug. The clarity with which her mind could click into gear in conditions like this would have astonished Jessica if she’d stepped back mentally to assess her performance but, of course, she never had. The response to any critical situation was the same whether it was a cardiac arrest at the home of one of her regular patients, a roadside effort at the scene of a high-speed car crash or—what would have been unthinkable even twenty-four hours ago—trapped in a tiny
