would make up for a quiet day, wouldn’t it?’
Moz mopped the sweat from his brown with a hand towel but didn’t slow down. ‘Dream on,’ he called.
Tom laughed. They would probably all do exactly that for the next few minutes. Good distraction from the pain of pushing yourself physically, anyway, imagining an event that could provide the kind of job they all dreamed of.
Tom took a deep breath and released it. He was feeling good now. Life was full of exciting possibilities. You just needed to be in the right place at the right time.
And keep yourself fit.
Tom added more weights and settled into his routine.
The tremor on Kaimotu Island started exactly the way the others had in the last few weeks. A sharp, unpleasant, jolting sensation.
But instead of fading away, this time the intensity built up with a speed too fast to process. It wasn’t until she was virtually thrown off balance and only stopped herself falling by catching the edge of her desk that Abby realised that something huge was happening. She watched the jar of jelly snakes float through the air and then smash into shards on the floor. The fridge door had opened and its contents were starting to spill out. The revolving filing system, filled with thousands of patient files, was rocking violently and spewing paper in all directions.
Even then, it was all happening too fast to feel any fear. Blake had been thrown off balance but was still on top of the examination couch. Any second now, though, he would be on the floor amongst the broken glass and whatever else was about to come loose. It felt like Abby was trying to move against the deck of a violently rolling ship as she lunged towards the toddler.
‘Under my desk,’ she shouted at Ruth. ‘Quick.’
She had to shout. It wasn’t just the crashing and banging of things falling around them, there was a peculiar roaring sound. As if a huge jet was trying to land on the narrow, unsealed road that led to this hilltop hospital.
Catching Blake in her arms, Abby made a dive for her desk. She felt something crunch under her knees but was oblivious to any pain. The shock of being narrowly missed by the computer monitor crashing off the desk beside her was more than enough distraction. The fridge had not only emptied its contents on the floor but now it was trying to walk through the debris, tilting ominously as it rocked from side to side.
Was the solid wood of the desktop going to be enough to protect them if the fridge fell over? Was the building going to stay upright? Vicious sounds of windows exploding and a scream from the waiting room gave Abby another surge of adrenaline, and it was then that the first shaft of pure fear sliced through her.
‘Hang on,’ she told Ruth. ‘It’s got to stop. It’ll be okay.’
Who was she trying to reassure? The terrified mother who was clutching her infant with one arm and hanging on to a leg of the desk with the other? The small boy in her own arms, who was rigid with terror?
Herself?
All of them. It felt like this was never going to stop. The floor was tilting beneath them and still things were coming off the walls and shelves above, like the framed certificates that showed the qualifications Abby had worked so hard for. Heavy medical textbooks and the plastic models of joints that she used for educational purposes. Her whole world seemed to be literally crashing down around her.
And then, finally, it began to fade. The shaking stopped. The roaring noise and the sound of things breaking stopped.
Even the sound of her own breathing stopped.
Abby had never heard a silence quite like this.
Heavy.
Dead.
The moment when the world changed irrevocably.
And that was the moment that real fear took hold. When it had all stopped but you couldn’t know if it was about to start again.
Or what had happened to everybody else.
Oh, God … Jack …
CHAPTER TWO
THE PILOT TOOK the rescue helicopter in a long, slow sweep over the length of Kaimotu as they made their final approach.
Most of the island appeared to be covered in native bush with little in the way of buildings. Housing was concentrated along the longest stretch of beach and the hills at one end. This was where the wharf was located and the community’s centre, which contained the public buildings, including schools and business premises.
It was also where the major damage from the earthquake had been focused according to the patchy reports that had been coming in for nearly two hours now. The tremor that Tom and his colleagues had felt had indeed been the tail end of something much bigger. A seven point four earthquake with its epicentre right beneath Kaimotu Island. Probably right beneath its most densely populated area at this time of day, unfortunately. Reports contained the information that there were a lot of people injured. Possibly trapped in collapsed buildings.
The landing coordinates were for the field close to the medical centre, which was often used for evacuations from the island. This was the first time Tom had ever been here but it was hard to appreciate the natural beauty of the isolated island with the amount of adrenaline he had coursing through his body. Exchanging a glance with Frank as they hovered over the centre of the tiny township, where the buildings had taken the brunt of the damage, he could see that his mate was as wired as he was.
Here they were, the first responders, quite possibly the only responders for some time, and they were facing what was probably going to be the biggest job of their careers.
‘There it is.’ The voice of Moz, the pilot, sounded deceptively calm. ‘The medical centre. Hang on to your hats, boys. Let’s get this baby on the ground.’
In their bright red overalls, still wearing their white helmets with the rescue service insignia on the front, hefting only their backpacks full of emergency gear, Tom and Frank ducked beneath the slowing rotors and ran for the steps leading up to the modern buildings attached to the old, wooden hospital. A sign indicated that this was the island’s medical centre—the place they’d been instructed to report to first.
Even before they got through the door they could see the place was crowded. There were people milling around inside and out and the veranda of the old hospital was packed.
It had been two hours since the quake had struck. The initial tsunami warning had been cancelled when it had become clear that the quake hadn’t been centred out at sea. Were people staying on higher ground anyway, just in case?
How many of the walking wounded had made it this far? How many had been carried here? Tom had no idea what was available in terms of medical staff and resources. He had to hope that somebody competent had taken charge and would be able to fill him in. Where would they be needed most? How on earth would they even begin to triage this situation?
The waiting room was packed to the gills. The sound of children crying and the sight of so many pale, frightened people galvanised Tom into action.
‘Who’s in charge here?’ he asked the person closest to the door, a middle-aged woman who was holding a bloodstained dressing against long grey hair that was
