No more thunder or screams cut the air. Instead the odd stillness was cut with a low keening, crying and shouts, aftermath noises. The earthquake had ended.
So why was his whole body still shaking?
He forced his eyes open and realized the quake hadn’t been as bad this time. The world hadn’t caved in. Only toppled light riggings, collapsed a tent, and flipped a couple of generators. Already, uniformed rescuers were making tracks to restore order, check for injured, with Cuervo and Brick leading the pack. Hugh pushed with his arms to lever himself off Amelia, to help.
But he couldn’t seem to move.
Amelia stared up at him, confusion pinching her eyebrows together as she stroked his face. “Hugh? You’re okay.” Her arms wrapped around him. “Thank God, you’re okay. I can’t believe how you pushed me out of the way of Jocelyn like that, but thank you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t say this earlier. I lo…”
The sound of her voice faded as the world went fuzzy, narrowing. Damn, he was losing consciousness… He tried to hold on, to focus on Amelia’s face and stay right in the moment. But the darkness dragged him under.
***
Amelia screamed.
She’d made it through everything life had thrown at her this week, but seeing Hugh’s eyes close, fearing he had died? Her composure shattered like the fragmented glass from dozens of broken bulbs glinting all over the ground.
Scrambling backward, she worked her way out from under him so she could get help. Her eyes homed in on the tipped light pole pinning one of his legs. Somehow it had missed her—Hugh had taken the hit for her.
But his trapped leg didn’t explain why he was unconscious. Fear dropped her to her knees beside him.
“Help!” she screamed. “We need help over here!”
She stroked Hugh’s hair, and yes, she knew she was babbling, hoping the sound of her voice would pull him back to her. Her fingers grazed along a lump, where he must have hit his head when he’d landed.
“Ma’am.” A guy in uniform knelt beside her, the patch on his uniform just like one she’d seen on Hugh, “That Others May Live.”
She choked on a well of hysteria. Why the hell hadn’t she gotten on that plane faster so he wouldn’t have needed to save her? Again. “He has a bump on his head. You need to—”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ve got it. My name is Jose. I’m his friend and we’ll take care of him. Now you need to be checked—”
“I’m fine. Him. Hugh.” Sheesh, she was turning into a hysterical idiot. She’d survived under a collapsed building for two days, and now she was losing it?
Because this wasn’t about her. This was about Hugh, losing Hugh, a man she loved so much it was tearing her apart inside to see him lying there lifelessly.
Jose grabbed her shoulders. “Listen to me. That plane is going to leave very soon. And we need to get as many out as we can in case another earthquake hits.” His voice was calm and clipped with authority made to cut through panic. “We want him and you on it. We have about five minutes. Understand?”
“Got it.” She shot to her feet to prove she was unhurt and cleared back.
With an efficiency and smooth training in action that blew her mind, they began to work on Hugh. Backing toward the cargo plane, she kept her eyes glued to Hugh as a half dozen men hefted the lighting gear off him with Herculean grunts. Then Jose went into medic mode, securing his head and transferring him to a stretcher. No wonder Hugh had told her she would be in the way here.
Turning, she raced toward the plane, running up the back ramp and into the crowded cargo hold. The PJ—Jose—barked out a list of medical terms to a man with a stethoscope around his neck, then beat a hasty retreat down the ramp and outside again.
Hands—she didn’t see whose—pushed her into a red webbed seat and buckled her in. Before she could breathe, the plane rumbled forward, faster, nose tipping upward…
And they were airborne.
The passengers cheered, their voices echoing through the cavernous metal tunnel filled with packed rows of webbed seats. Amelia gasped in hitchy breaths of air that smelled of hydraulic fluid and mustiness. She searched the rows of people until her eyes finally found her brother sitting with Lisabeth and Joshua. A moment of guilt pinched her that she hadn’t thought to check on them sooner.
Her brother mouthed the words Are you okay?
She nodded, answering what he wanted to know even though she knew she wouldn’t truly be all right until she knew more about Hugh. His stretcher was only two seats away. So close, but not near enough to touch.
His head was still immobilized, his ankle in a splint. She kept her eyes on him as if she could somehow will him awake. To hell with rules. She slid from her seat and knelt beside him.
A hand fell to rest on her shoulder and she jumped, ready to defend her right to stay by Hugh. Except it wasn’t anyone official. It was her brother.
“Aiden, how did you win over the seat police?”