“Yes, with the cherry picker, miss. Our rescue efforts have to remain outside of the building at this point. With your friend being under the rubble…”
The firefighter didn’t complete his sentence. There was no need to. I understood perfectly well what he was saying. RJ was on his own, and if he couldn’t figure out a way to break free of the hole he was in, he would very likely die in that pocket of life that was barely sustaining him.
I dropped my head, crestfallen. “How long?”
“Captain wasn’t sure, but he thought a couple of hours, maybe more, depending on what they find. I’m so sorry.”
It wasn’t his fault, I knew that. His remorse was real. This man-boy was used to being a hero. No doubt saving people was what he and his firefighter brothers and sisters lived for, but when it came right down to it, risking their lives to save others didn’t seem like the fairest split. He deserved to go home to his family tonight too.
But what about RJ? I’d made him a promise, thinking his survival was well within my control—but it wasn’t. Not at all. RJ’s fate belonged to factors no one could have foreseen, and now he was about to face the worst night of his life, utterly alone. Being a teacher with extensive first aid training, I understood that injured people were especially vulnerable to hypothermia. And with nighttime approaching, RJ’s body temperature could drop quickly. If that happened, his heart, nervous system, and other organs wouldn’t work normally, and it could lead to heart and respiratory system failure, or even death.
My heart pounded, anxiety thrashing through my veins. I knew what needed to be done. I couldn’t leave him there. My whole life I’d been searching. I’d thought before that finding my father would end the hunt, but now I understood it wasn’t him I’d been searching for. What I wanted was a connection—something bigger than me, something that brought down the roof. In that parking garage, digging RJ out of the angry earth, his arm going around me and gifting me his most profound gratitude—I’d felt it. That something bigger I’d always craved. God, he’d been in front of my face this whole time. How had I not seen it?
But my eyes were wide open now. Today, in the trenches, our connection had been forged in desperation and strengthened by devotion. We’d both sacrificed for the other. We’d put our lives on the line. We’d been adversaries before—near strangers—but now, we were more. I wasn’t sure how to explain it. I just knew. And for that reason, I would be there for him in his time of need, even if it meant dropping back into the hellish world in which he still resided. But this time, I’d come prepared with the lifesaving tools I would need to keep him, and me, alive through a hard, cold night.
I began taking inventory of supplies in my head. Blanket, water, flashlights, first aid supplies. But that wasn’t enough, not if the couple of hours Parker predicted stretched on. What if the structural engineers never deemed the building safe? Then what? We might need to take matters into our own hands.
Hammer and chisel.
Knife.
“Miss? Can you answer the question?”
I tilted my head up, realizing Parker had been conversing with me the whole time, and I hadn’t heard a word. “I… I didn’t hear what you said.”
“You all right? You look a bit pale.”
It was only then I realized how cold I was and how unsteady I felt on my feet.
“I’m fine,” I replied, waving off his concern.
“You know what? How about if we just start with a simple question?” he said, tapping the tip of his pencil to the small spiral notebook he’d extracted from one of his many pockets. “What’s your name?”
“Dani Malone.”
“Is Dani short for Danielle?”
“Does it matter?”
Parker blinked. This was supposed to be his easiest question, and I was making it more difficult than it needed to be… for good reason.
“Actually, it does matter. I’m going to need your full legal name.”
“Why?”
“This is a large-scale disaster. We need to know who has survived. Who is missing. Who has…”
Parker stopped himself before uttering that last word, the one that followed that place where all hope was lost.
Died.
But that wouldn’t be RJ. I wouldn’t let it be him.
“So full name, please.”
I sighed, really not wanting to disclose such personal information but having no real reason to conceal it except for the judgment that would surely follow from someone his age.
“Gladys Danielle Malone.”
The firefighter glanced at me, then blinked in rapid succession before mercifully dropping his stare and penning my name on his notepad.
“Gladys Danielle Malone,” he repeated it to himself, the slightest smile lifting the far corner of his lip.
“I was named after my mother,” I said, feeling the need to explain. “She’s an asshole.”
Parker’s brow lifted in amusement. “How about I just call you Dani?”
“And we’ve come full circle,” I replied, trying to remain my snappy self even in the face of a wave of dizziness that suddenly passed over me. I swayed in place.
“Whoa,” the fireman grabbed hold of me before I fell.
“Bruce!” he called out.
A heavyset man with close-cropped hair and a goatee rushed in to help. The two guided me toward an ambulance.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “It’s nothing.”
“Except for the glass protruding from your arm,” Bruce said.
“This little thing? I have earrings bigger.”
“Humor us,” Parker replied.
“I don’t have time for humor. I have things to do,” I said, the list of items I needed to buy rotating through my head.
“I understand, but I still have a few more questions to ask you about your neighbor, and then you can go. But while we talk, Bruce here will patch you up, all right? That way we don’t waste any time.”
I rolled my eyes at his reverse psychology. I was a teacher. I employed that strategy every day of my life.
“I see what you’re doing, Parker.”
He displayed a ‘you got me’ shrug.
Sighing, I glanced between the two guys before agreeing to their idea of tender loving care. I suppose it wasn’t the worst idea ever. After all, it couldn’t hurt for Bruce to sop up some blood before my big rescue effort. Parker was pretty smart for his age.
Back in firefighter mode, Parker dove into questions about the conditions inside the garage and the approximate area where RJ was located. I answered everything the best I could, given I was describing an upside-down world. And as I talked, the goateed paramedic tortured me with his evil tweezers, using them to extract tiny pieces of glass from my skin before irrigating it with saline. Once the bandage was placed, he’d move on to the next, and the process would repeat. But even professionals had their limits, and for Bruce, his was met with the jagged piece of glass in my upper arm. He wasn’t touching that one. Instead, he handed me a bottle of electrolytes and took my blood pressure for what seemed like the hundredth time. But I had to give the guy credit; whatever he’d done had helped clear my head, and I felt stronger now, ready to face the challenge ahead.