Chapter 20
It’s easy to spot the medic under the emergency lighting. His red and white jumpsuit is bristling with reflective tape.
“Over here!” I raise a hand and wave to him.
The stout-looking man scrambles toward me with a medical bag. It takes time for him to work his way over the uneven pile of debris.
“What’ve you got?”
“A crush injury.”
He kneels down and gets right to work. First, he scans the guy’s bloodied lower leg. Then feels the femur and the pelvis for other injuries. “Just the lower leg?”
“Affirmative,” I reply.
“We’ll splint and stabilize it, then move to the medical tent.” He calls over the radio for a stretcher.
Getting out will be challenging. But it’s clear this isn’t his first rodeo. He’s swift and concise with his movements as he places a splint around the wound.
“Hold on, man.” I grip the young guy’s shoulder. “They’ll get you fixed up soon.”
His face is twisted with pain, but he clasps my hand. “Thanks for getting me out of there.”
“No need. I’m glad you’re going to be fine.”
“Beast!” I recognize the voice instantly. I squint into the blinding lights looking for Evan. I locate him a hundred yards from us.
I look at the medic. “You guys need me?”
“No.” He shifts his focus to my arm. “You need to see us for stitches when we get everyone out of here.”
“It’s just a scratch.”
As I’m moving away, the medic yells, “A scratch my ass. Get that looked at.”
Evan’s holding pressure on another bad injury when I find him.
“What can I do?”
He shifts for a better angle on the gaping bicep wound on a twenty-something local kid. “Got any more clotting bandages?”
I draw a pack out of my cargo pocket. “Need anything else?”
“Have you seen Truck?”
Dammit. “Not since we climbed up here.” I stand up and look across the chaos.
Evan says, “He was with us, but I didn’t see him come out.”
“Fuck. I’ll go look.”
I move toward the back of the building where we were trying to move some debris when a partially standing wall collapsed.
I find Scout and Justice instead. They are working a long piece of wood under a section of roofing material. It’s obvious they are making a lever.
There is a swarm of people around them, all working on the same piece of debris. Some of them are trained extractors, others volunteers.
“Beast, can you help here?” Scout motions for me to join him.
I climb over some broken wood to access him. “Have you seen Truck?”
With matching expressions, they look up at me.
Scout looks across the people around us. “No. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Justice shakes his head and mutters, “I wish we had our coms gear.”
We’d all had to turn our own gear off so it didn’t interfere with the official radios.
My worry burns hot. I need to go looking, but I’m not walking away with these two working so hard to move the section of roof. “What are we doing here?”
Scout fills me in. “Everyone is trying to get some space under this. If we make enough room, they can put in the airbags and lift it.”
Justice wipes his brow with his arm. “Mother, it’s hot.” He shifts and repositions his hands on the lever. “They think the live victim can be reached this way.”
I shoulder in. “Move over, let me help.”
We’re working the board into position when one of the extraction members climbs over to us. “Okay, guys. Are you ready?”
Justice pats my shoulder. “We are now. This is your man. Ignore the blood. He’s called Beast because he’s freakishly strong.”
“Really?” the man asks in heavily accented English.
“I am.”
“Then hurry up and do this then you come with me. I need help right now.”
After we lever the heavy section of roof up, he guides me away from the others, taking me to a monstrous stone. “This. Can you move this?”
It’s the size of a gas pump turned on its side.
I climb around it to inspect the angles of the rock. The thing is huge. I can’t even begin to guess the weight. But I’ve lifted some really heavy shit. Including a car off of a friend when the jack collapsed.
“I’ll try. Which way does it need to go?”
He motions to the left with his hand. “Ten centimeters, just this end of it needs to move.”
“Alright.”
The man mutters a prayer. He pushes a thin piece of metal into a crack beneath the rock. “You move. I’ll drop my equipment into the hole.”
I get into position as I get my head right. “I think this is the best angle.”
He agrees.
I wrap my arms around one end of the big rock. I take some fast breaths to ramp my nervous system. “Where the hell did this thing come from? Surely, it wasn’t part of the building.”
“It fell down the hill.”
That explains a lot. Let’s just hope there aren’t any more up there waiting to tumble down. We’d all be tossed like human bowling pins.
I test my grip. “Let’s get it the fuck out of the way. Ready, we go on one.”
Sweat trickles in my eyes, my arm hurts like a motherfucker. The rock grates right on my cut. I tune it all out and concentrate on finding that place inside me where the rage lives.
“Three. Two. One.”
I pour all of myself into the effort.
The boulder lifts a small amount and seems to teeter. I leverage all my strength, pushing hard with my quads. Contracting my abs. Flexing my back. “Come on!”
My legs burn with strain. My whole body shakes.
The other man is cheering as he tries to help. “Yes! Yes! A little more.”
I picture my father’s ugly face and find the last bit of rage-filled bloodthirst that I need.
The rock moves the last distance. It settles into a stable place. I fall forward onto my knees.
The man is crying tears of joy. His arms wrap around my shoulders. “You did it! My friend, you are the strongest man I’ve ever met.”
My arms are shaking as I pat his back. I drop back onto my heels. Blood is smeared on the rock.
I think we made our goal if the look on his face is any indication.
“You good?”
He’s talking rapidly on a radio in a language that I don’t speak. Italian, I think. But I’m shot. Who knows. hHe could be speaking English and I wouldn’t be able to put the words together.
When he’s done with his radio, he lowers something into the opening. “I’m good now. You are a miracle.”
The miracle my father didn’t want.
I shove to a standing position and sway. My hands clench into fists. Blood trickles down my arm and into my glove, running between my fingers.
Fuck my father.
He doesn’t deserve another second of my attention until I need that burning, all-consuming fury.
Not now. I need to shake that before it drags me into an abyss of pain. I spent enough years there to recognize the slippery slope.
I give myself a mental kick. I need to find Truck. The team is my responsibility.
“I’m looking for one of my men. Tall guy. Gray shirt. Light brown hair.”
“He was with the medic.” The man motions with his chin. “Big guy, lots of tattoos. He’s over that way.”
“Thanks.”
I take off in an awkward scramble toward another group of workers that are clustered under another set of temporary lights.
It’s not long before I spot Truck.
A heavy knot settles in my belly.
He’s on a stretcher. Fuck, we’ve been on the mission for less than a day. The wheels are coming off the bus every which way.
We didn’t know we were going to be walking into an earthquake disaster zone when we took the mission.
Then there’s Camile and her team to deal with.
Now Truck’s injured.
What else can go wrong?