man released her and went back to yelling his obscenities at the top of his lungs. Caroline picked up the yellow tag and removed the adhesive cover on the back, sticking it to the outside of the car. Hopefully the guy wouldn’t mess with it. She quickly moved on to the next car.
“Please help me.” A mother was sobbing in the driver’s seat, blood dripping from her face. A young girl and a baby sat in the back seat. The little girl was crying also.
“Ma’am, I’m here. It’s okay,” Caroline said, taking in the situation. The woman was pinned inside her vehicle where the front end had been crushed when it had been rear-ended into a safety railing. Her legs were trapped.
“My kids.” The mom was hysterical, unable to see or help her children in the back. “Why is Nicole crying? Are they hurt? Is the baby okay?”
Caroline used her flashlight to shine into the car as she talked to the woman. “Hey, what’s your name?” she asked the mom as she pulled on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. The woman’s legs were definitely pinned. The firefighters would have to get her out of here.
“Jackie.”
Caroline couldn’t tell what state Jackie’s legs would be in, but for right now she was a yellow card. Needed help, but wasn’t life-threatening. But the woman was still sobbing.
“Jackie, I’m going to check the kids now. But I need you to stop crying, okay? And hold this.” She gave the woman the yellow tag. “This lets the firefighters know what to do.”
She could see Jackie try to get herself under control. “My kids. Please, my kids.”
Caroline touched her on the shoulder through the window that had been broken. “I’m checking right now.”
She moved to the back door and opened it. A little girl in the back, about three years old, was sobbing, obviously terrified.
“Jackie, what’s your daughter’s name?”
“Nicole.”
“Hey, Nicole,” Caroline crooned. “You doing okay, sweetie?” The fog floating around the car and her mother’s cries were frightening the girl. Caroline touched her gently on the cheek and she settled a little bit.
“I want Mama,” the little girl said, hiccuping through her tears.
“I know you do. It will be just a few minutes, okay? Does anything hurt, sweetheart?” The girl seemed to be fine, but it was difficult to tell.
“No. I want Mama.”
“I’m here, sweetie.” Jackie was pulling herself together now that she could talk to her daughter. Nicole calmed down more as her mother did. “Is David okay?”
“Can you hold this for me, hon?” Caroline handed little Nicole a green tag. Someone else would check her out more thoroughly, but for right now, the girl didn’t seem to need more medical attention. “Nicole seems fine, Jackie. I’m going to check on baby David now.”
Baby David hadn’t made a sound the whole time. Caroline’s heart caught in her chest as she ran around the car to his side.
The baby, not older than six months, lay silently in his rear-facing car seat as Caroline pried open the door. As she reached over to check the baby’s pulse, she could hear Jackie’s ragged, terrified breathing.
She couldn’t see any blood or noticeable injuries, but he didn’t move at all at her touch. Caroline sent up a silent prayer that the child was alive. With babies, everything was tricky, since they were unable to communicate.
She found his pulse at the exact moment little David opened his eyes. He studied Caroline intently before taking his thumb and jamming it in his mouth, sucking on it.
“He’s okay, Jackie. He’s sucking his thumb.” She reached over David and squeezed Jackie’s shoulder. “I can’t say for certain that he is injury free, but he’s alive and he’s alert.” Caroline laid a yellow tag on baby David. He probably could be green-tagged, but with a baby she’d rather be safe than sorry. Someone would still need to check him more thoroughly.
“Jackie, you saved your kids’ lives by having them properly restrained in their car seats. You did great. I have to check on others, so I need you to keep it together. Help will be back again soon.”
Caroline didn’t wait to hear any response. She rushed to the next victim. By the time other sirens approached a few minutes later, she had evaluated many victims.
Two were dead. At least two with severe injuries. A half dozen more with minor injuries that would require attention.
And a drunken jackass, still yelling, with a dislocated pinkie.
That first dead guy she’d come across had a couple of children’s dolls in the back seat of his car. Somebody’s dad was never coming home again. Yet a drunk driver who’d never even known he was driving the wrong way down a highway was going to be just fine.
Sometimes the world just wasn’t fair. Caroline knew that much better than most by what had happened to her nearly two years ago.
This just reaffirmed it.
It was going to be a long, hard day.
* * *
TWELVE HOURS LATER, shift finished, having showered and changed at the hospital, Caroline made it home.
Except, it wasn’t exactly home, was it?
It was the fourth place she’d lived in eighteen months, the place she’d moved into six weeks ago, but it wasn’t home.
How could you call a place home when every time someone knocked on your front door it sent you into a panic?
Caroline stood in her driveway, looking up at her town house’s entrance, duffel bag swung over her shoulder, unable to go any farther. It had been the longest, professionally worst day she’d had in a long time. Her body was exhausted from the physical exertion of moving patients, administering CPR and going to one call after another today because of the fog. Her emotions were exhausted as the death toll had risen each hour.
By all means, she should go inside her house, fall into bed and be asleep before her head hit the pillow. Despite the deaths that couldn’t be avoided, Caroline and the other paramedics had done good work. Had helped make sure the death count hadn’t risen any further than it had. She should rest now. She deserved it.
But she couldn’t seem to force her legs to move any closer to her empty house.
She knew she could call one of the officers over from the Corpus Christi Police Department to come walk through her town house for her. They would understand, and someone would come immediately.
Although not the person she really wanted—really needed—to be here. He wasn’t part of the police force any longer. Zane Wales had hung up his white hat—literally and figuratively—the day they’d found Caroline raped and nearly beaten to death in her own home. The last victim of a serial rapist.
Caroline looked at her town house again, still unable to force herself to walk any closer.
What
