CHAPTER ELEVEN MIXED EMOTIONS #2
They rode in silence, each of them silently urging the vehicles to go faster.
However, the roads weren’t meant for high-speed travel, and this was as fast as they could safely go without missing the curves and winding up in a fiery crash.
But the almost supernatural reflexes of the Hotamétaneo’o allowed them to corner with far more agility than a normal person.
As they got close to the rig, they could see that more than a dozen First Responders were already there, battling the blaze.
Greyeagle was proud to see that even two volunteer trucks from the Rez were there, helping where they could.
They quickly parked in the grass at the side of the road, and everyone piled out.
“Alright folks,” Greyeagle said, “we’re here to help.
We look for survivors, we treat the wounded, and we do anything they ask.
This isn’t about finding the creatures. They’re already gone.
This is about saving lives. Mika, take the Twins and walk the perimeter.
Look for anyone who might have made it out.
Declan, get with the incident commander and find out where he needs us.
Everyone else, help carry wounded, dead, or equipment.
This isn’t a battle. This is a recovery. ”
They sprang into action and began locating and rescuing people. Greyeagle went directly to where the EMTs were staged and found them sitting by in quiet terror, watching the massive conflagration.
“Listen up,” Greyeagle snapped. “I want you to set up a full triage center right over here in this empty field. We’re going to be finding bodies.
We know that. Hopefully, we’ll be bringing you wounded, too.
So, be ready. Stand by with everything you’ve got.
Alert the nearest burn unit that we’re going to have a lot of casualties. ”
“Who are you?” asked one of the EMTs.
“Greyeagle,” he said, holding up his badge. “US Marshals. Now, get moving! This is officially a mass casualty event. Alert every emergency room in a hundred miles. Get as many air evac birds on the way as possible.”
“How could anyone survive that?” said one of the EMTs.
“Until we know they didn’t,” snapped Greyeagle, “we’re going to be ready to treat over forty people. Got me?”
“Yes, sir,” said the EMT. “You heard the man, let’s move!”
They got to work immediately and turned an open field into a mass-casualty triage center in just a few minutes. Once they were focused, Greyeagle raced back to the fire to see where he was needed. Declan caught up with him and handed him a radio.
“Who’s the incident commander?” asked Greyeagle.
“Boyo, we’ve got volunteer units from six different small departments,” Declan said. “There ain’t no incident commander. I guess that makes ye the man.”
“Alright,” said Greyeagle. “Those tanker trucks are going to be running empty soon. See if you can get one crew to tap the emergency fire control system here. If they can get that back online, we’ve got their well to help fight this fire.”
“Got it,” Declan said. “Boyo, I’m glad yer here. I’ve been in this game a long time, but I’m a monster hunter, not a cop. Yer in charge till someone says different.”
“Got it,” Greyeagle said, running back toward the group of firefighters.
“Greyeagle!” screamed Mika.
He was running across the field toward him, carrying someone in his arms like a child. Greyeagle saw him coming and changed course. Mika was badly burned, and his shirt was half burned off. He was carrying a woman in a lab coat. She was unconscious but breathing. Barely.
“Get her to the EMTs,” Greyeagle said, pointing.
“I’m gonna change,” Mika said. “We can’t keep going into these flames in this form.”
Greyeagle thought about it for a moment, then nodded.
“Do it,” he said. “I’ll inform the locals.”
Mika nodded, then raced off toward the triage center. Greyeagle went immediately back to work and began coordinating the departments. No one questioned his authority because at least someone was telling them how to handle this. None of them were trained for an event like this.
“Declan t’ Greyeagle,” crackled the radio.
“Go,” Greyeagle said.
“We’ve found the emergency water access,” Declan said. “It’s fused. We cannae budge it.”
“I’ll get someone to you,” Greyeagle said.
He turned and looked through the crowd.
“Kodiak!” roared Greyeagle.
Instantly, Kodiak looked up and turned toward him.
“Get to the emergency water valve!” Greyeagle yelled. It’s wedged shut, and we need that water!”
Kodiak nodded once and headed for the section Greyeagle was pointing to.
“Go, Big Bear,” Greyeagle whispered. “Get that water going.”
Kodiak ran over to where Declan was standing with a fire crew.
They had already tapped the hose couplings, but the water release valve wouldn’t budge.
Kodiak set his feet and gripped the enormous wheel, then put everything he had into it, trying to make it turn.
It wouldn’t budge. He grunted with effort, but it still wouldn’t move.
“Damn it,” Kodiak muttered, then stood up.
He looked at Declan.
“Do it, boyo,” Declan said. “Every moment counts.”
Declan turned to the firefighters and began talking calmly to them as Kodiak called on the spirit of the short-faced bear. The transformation took him, and he began to change. In seconds, the massive Ute warrior was replaced by a sixteen-foot man-bear that weighed more than a large truck.
With a roar of fury, Kodiak gripped the wheel and twisted. Steel groaned and metal shrieked as it slowly broke loose.
“Here it goes!” bellowed Kodiak.
As the water pressure increased, the fire hoses began to stiffen and fill. The firefighters were shocked by the massive creature now standing before them, but they shook it off quickly. They put the water to good use, hitting the fire from a different direction.
By sunrise, they had contained the fire.
With the help of the Hotamétaneo’o, they located and rescued sixteen people.
Most of them were burned heavily. The triage unit was fully operational as more ambulances arrived.
Greyeagle had directed the local deputies to clear an area and maintain it as a landing pad for the life-flight choppers.
Of the people they rescued, six had to be airlifted to the nearest trauma center. The others were taken out in ambulances, filling ERs in every hospital within a hundred miles.
Even though local sheriff’s departments, the State Highway Patrol, two police departments, and elements of the National Guard were on scene now, no one had stepped in to relieve Greyeagle. They all looked to him to keep everything moving and organized.
The Hotamétaneo’o quietly shifted back when the last of the survivors were located.
They dressed in the spare clothing that they kept in their trucks and left before anyone could ask too many questions.
Declan and Greyeagle remained on scene until Wisdom and a team of Marshals arrived, just after sunrise.
Then, Declan and Greyeagle quietly walked back to his truck and climbed in.
“Ye did good, boyo,” Declan said. “We saved a lot o’ lives t’night.”
“I could’ve done more if I could’ve shifted with the others,” Greyeagle said sadly.
“No, boyo, you did more ‘n any o’ ‘em just as yerself,” Declan said. “You organized the chaos and kept it all a’ movin’. What ye did was nothin’ short o’ miraculous. I didna know ye then, but I bet ye was one hell o’ a cop.”
“I had my moments,” Greyeagle said. “Thank you.”
“For what?” asked Declan.
“For reminding me that I was a cop long before I was Hotamétaneo’o,” Greyeagle said. “And even if I can’t change, I can use my mind. Maybe this was all a test. Just to remind me of who I used to be. To remind me real power doesn’t come from the transformation. It comes from your will.”
“Aye, boyo,” Declan said. “That it does. Keep the bloody badge. Ye’ve earned it. Did ye find evidence o’ the creatures?”
“I did,” Greyeagle replied. “Same tracks, same patterns. It was the Ma’êstse-hóhkeso.”
“Well, now we know,” Declan said. “Let’s get out o’ here and let the professionals take o’er. It’s all cleanup now, anyway.”
“Let’s go home,” Greyeagle said.