She’d thought she’d have to ask him a million questions out here—out of her comfort zone. But he hadn’t been around and she’d coped fine. Maybe the director at the DPA was right—maybe she was ready for more field missions.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered in reply.
In that second she felt a wave. A connection. An understanding of the overwhelming pain in his eyes. A deep, fathomless hurt that he never revealed or let bubble to the surface. Jack Campbell never asked for help. He never counted on anyone else. He was solitary in his life. For reasons that she couldn’t even begin to imagine. It was the first depth, the first exposure she’d seen from him, and it was the truest thing she had ever felt.
Even though she’d only just got to know him, she got the overwhelming impression that he’d have her back. A warm feeling flowed through her, filling her with the confidence that she sometimes lacked. This strong, fearless army surgeon needed her help and she was happy to give it. Always. And something about it felt good. Special.
He released his hand, pulling it gently out from under her firm grip. For a second the tension left his shoulders, but a few seconds later he put his second hand down with his first on the wound.
“What’s he done?” asked Amber. The sky was dark above and there were no artificial lights. From this position she couldn’t really make out what was wrong.
“He’s been pierced by a bit of the bleachers. From the amount of blood, I think he might have damaged his spleen.”
She licked her lips. “How’s your wound pad doing?”
Jack gave a brief nod of his head. He lifted one hand from the wound site. The glove he was wearing wasn’t smeared in blood this time. It was more or less wiped clean. He put it back down. “I think things are clotting. The blood loss has certainly slowed. Before it just seemed like a steady flow. Nothing I was using was stemming the blood flow.”
She gave an appreciative nod. “That’s another life, Jack. Another life saved.”
She shifted a little. Her position was awkward, her legs spread across an unstable base above the still-wet floor, her back starting to ache already. The space across the floor was vast, with easy access to the door if only there weren’t a chance of water filled with electricity in their way.
“Jack, how are we going to get out of here? We might be able to clamp this gurney around him but there’s no way we can fit it through the spaces we climbed through.” She wrinkled her nose and stared down at the floor. “The gurney is plastic. Could we lower it to the floor and push him across again?”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “You want to take that chance?”
She pulled a face. “Not really.”
“Me either.”
She stared at the rope around his waist, looped around something hanging from part of the ceiling and allowing him to slightly change position as needed. “How on earth did you do that?”
He grinned. “One of the firefighters is some kind of mountaineer. At first they were worried I shouldn’t actually touch the bleachers. They rigged the rope and tied it to me before I set off. Theory was it would keep me off the floor if everything else around me collapsed.”
She stared down at her waist and raised her eyebrows. “Great. Where’s mine?”
He nodded toward her feet. “You got the rubber boots. That’s your insurance policy.” He wiggled one foot at her. “I’m still on the regular army boots. Not quite the same.”
She noticed he was still keeping his hands firmly down at the janitor’s wound. She watched carefully the rise and fall of the janitor’s chest. At least he was maintaining his airway, without any oxygen. That was good. Even if he had suffered some kind of electric shock, he was still breathing. If only she had a spare hand right now to reach for his pulse.
“Any idea about his cardiac situation right now?”
“I’d love to know about his cardiac situation. But I’ve run out of hands. You have too. Let’s just say, due to the amount of blood loss, we know his heart has kept beating. I just wish he’d regain consciousness so I could try and assess him.”
Amber shook her head. “With that wound, I’m not sure you do. How much pain will he be in? I don’t know how still he would stay and we’re not in the most stable of positions.”
Jack gave a reassuring nod. “I know that.” For a second his dark eyes twinkled. “Did you ever imagine when you met the jet-lagged Scotsman in the bar we’d end up working together in the middle of a hurricane?”
She let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. “If you’d asked me to place bets that night, I’m pretty sure this would never even have been on my radar.”
“Still annoyed I didn’t tell you I was a doctor?”
“Till my dying day.” She laughed.
Jack’s face changed. There was the briefest flash of something and Amber’s insides flip-flopped, cringing. She’d said the wrong thing—but she had no idea why.
“Dr. Jack!” came the shout behind her.
She wanted to swivel around but her position made it awkward. Jack replied for them both. “We’re almost ready.”
“What are they doing?” asked Amber as she tried to see out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s the backup plan,” said Jack. “Just think really big planks of wood.”
There were loud noises behind her. Scraping, thudding and the odd splash of water. She could also hear quite a lot of groans and moans behind her as the firefighters positioned the planks of wood.
After what seemed like forever, there was a voice not too far behind her. “Okay, Docs, we think we’re just about ready. The wood is in place. We’re on it. We’re going to come toward you and help you clamp that gurney into place. Then we’ll try and bring you all down together. Whatever you do, as you come down from the bleachers, make sure you step directly onto the wood. We’re still not sure about the state of the electrics and the main floor is still wet. Nobody touches the floor. Are we clear?”
Jack glanced at her. “We’re clear,” he shouted back.
But the firefighter didn’t seem to be happy with that response. “Dr. Berkeley, did you get that? I need to know you understand before anyone moves.”
Amber shouted back. “Okay, I’ve got it. Just let me know when.”
From that point, Jack was her eyes. He told her where everyone was, and how soon it was until they were at her back. And they were a good partnership. She held her hands steady, supporting the janitor’s airway, even though they felt as though they could cramp. It was the longest time until she felt a pair of large hands at her waist. It made her start a little. “Right behind you, Doc,” came the deep voice at her back. “I’m going to come around your side and grab one side of the gurney.”
She felt his large body brush against hers as the firefighter came around her side, squeezing his body next to one side of the gurney. Another guy appeared at the other side and they coordinated with Jack and Amber.
“We’ll take the weight of the gurney. Your job is to keep doing whatever it is you need to do. We’re going to move slow and steady. Let us know if there’s an issue. Dr. Berkeley, we know you’re going to be walking backward. We’re going to have someone else behind you to guide you, and make sure you don’t step off the planks.”
It was the first time she actually felt a bit nervous. Of course. Stepping off the planks could result in a nasty shock. Jack met her gaze again. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice a little shakier than she’d like. She really wanted to move her hands, just for a second, just to stretch them to stop the cramp setting in. Last thing she wanted was her hands to spasm when she was holding this airway.
She took a few breaths and concentrated on the rise and fall of the janitor’s chest. That was what she needed to focus on. She could do this.
The firefighter to her right started talking slowly and steadily. “We’re going to take the weight on three. Ready? One, two, three.”
The gurney lifted just a little under her hands. She f
elt another pair of hands at her waist and heard the voice of a female firefighter. “Dr. Berkeley, I’m Kate. I’m here to guide you. I want you to take one slow step backward.”