Chapter Twenty-Five
Creed
Creed’s own chest was heaving as he shoved his palms deep into the flesh over Sheelah’s sternum.
Chest compressions required serious stamina, and in the military, he had trained to switch out every two minutes to avoid fatigue, which meant that he wasn’t pushing deep enough.
Auralia provided breaths every thirty compressions, and he was glad for the mini-breaks while she sealed her mouth around Sheelah’s and pushed the air in.
He’d keep going for as long as it made sense.
But they were nearing the point where brain damage was a serious consideration.
He hadn’t known Sheelah’s status when he’d pulled her out of the SUV. She might already have been dead. Auralia was right; the pocket of air in the vehicle wasn’t enough to keep someone alive for long, and both women had been using it.
“Seven minutes,” Auralia called, as Creed said, “Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.”
She leaned over and felt for an exhale on her cheek, nothing. Bending over, she tipped Sheelah’s head back, pinched her nose, sealed her lips, then pinched Sheelah’s nose and bent over to administer a breath.
In Creed’s head, he had a thirty-minute mark.
He thought he had enough gas in the engine to go that long.
He looked over to check on Rou, who lay next to Brandy with her head resting on the woman’s chest. Brandy blinked regularly, which was the only sign she’d given of life, and to be clear, Creed found it pretty disturbing.
He’d never come across that before and had no idea what to do in this situation.
Auralia lifted, and Creed went in “One and two and three—” There was a sudden convulsion below where he’d posted his hands. “Auralia, come to the head.” Creed pushed the woman’s hip and shoulder, shoving her over on her side, where she vomited brown water.
In both the Rochambeau and the Duchamp families, the drowning protocol had been hammered home and practiced on the regular. The children were allowed a somewhat feral existence, but they had to do it with skill.
This wasn’t the first time Creed had done CPR; it was the first time he did it on someone who had drowned.
Creed put a hand on Sheelah’s back and felt it expand and contract in a regular pattern. “I guess next we need to get her warm and dry.” He reached for his trauma shears and began to cut the hunting jacket and dress.
“Do you have any other clothes with you? Another Mylar blanket?”
“No, do you?” Auralia asked as she grabbed her camp towel and rubbed it over Sheelah’s purple skin.
Creed had packed an extra regular Cerberus compression shirt without the technology, and even though Creed had broad shoulders, it was still a struggle to get the fabric onto an unconscious woman with wet skin.
The fabric kept rolling and clinging. He kept at it.
It was the only thing he had to offer her.
“We have the black garbage bags from my car escape. We can make a shirt out of the one bag and then pull the second bag over her feet and legs, and duct tape them together.”
“If we cut the Mylar blanket from Brandy in half and share it between the two women, it’ll help.
It’s good the rain stopped, or I’d be out here building lean-tos.
” Creed looked through his bag, hoping there was a hand warmer or other item that he’d shaken loose throughout today’s rescues.
“I have a beanie,” he said, coming up triumphant.
“Can you get dressed, please?” Auralia handed him the towel, which, despite being damp, was designed to keep wicking away water.
He started by reattaching his sternal mic and dropping his magnetic comms into his ear. “Creed. Back online.”
“Striker. Copy. Out.”
While he dressed, Creed looked at the slope slick with clay, at the women, and at the sun disappearing over the horizon.
Some people would call the rescue a fait accompli.
Everyone was on shore and stabilized, and as much as possible, they were sheltered from the elements.
These types of people would climb that hill, walk over the bridge before it washed out, and hike to a nearby house to call a ride-share.
It would be a case of self-preservation.
But Auralia would never have considered the possibility of walking away until she was in a position of do or die.
Creed had considered leaving the scene to get Auralia up and out because of his military training, where every possibility was on the table.
Auralia and Rou were his family and his priorities.
He wasn’t about to have them stay here, trapped between a rising river and an impossible slope in a dark moon.
It wasn’t going to happen.
If nothing else, he could get Auralia and Rou up top and then descend to tend to the victims as best he could.
Would Auralia go for that? He pulled his phone from the box. “Creed here, Mandy. Do you have our location up on your map?”
“I have you pinned on the southwestern side of the river, twenty meters ahead of the bridge pilons.”
Creed turned upriver to assess the distance. “That’s correct. I’m with Auralia Rochambeau. This is a sequence of events: At the time of the crash, the SUV ahead of Auralia Rochambeau’s went through the rails.”
“We have that documented. The white water rescue team was put en route.”
“Next, you should have Auralia’s car going in.”
“Affirmative,” Mandy’s voice was crisply efficient.
“Auralia’s car landed on the SUV. After shots were fired at the dell, Auralia witnessed three people get into that SUV. Eugene Morrison, wife Sheelah Morrison, daughter Brandy Morrison.”
“Copy.”
“As Auralia was affecting her self-rescue, Eugene Morrison from the SUV beneath her car, grabbed her leg, climbed himself to the surface, and swam to the north shore.”
“Copy.”
“He left his wife and daughter in the vehicle. When Rou and I arrived on the scene, Auralia had saved Brandy, the daughter, from the car. Here are Brandy Morrison’s vitals.
” Creed took a moment to read off the notes that Auralia had been documenting, including breath count and pulse.
“Brandy has her eyes open, but she’s non-responsive to verbal cues.
She has a zero times four orientation. She presents as being in shock and hypothermic.
We’ve done what we can, given our limited supplies.
After being in the water for so long, her core temperature is likely in a dangerous zone.
We’ve considered a fire.” It wasn’t a great idea for so many reasons.
But down here, if they built it right next to the water, they might be able to get away with it.
Auralia had moved up and wrapped her arms around him, her head to his heart, squeezing him tightly.
It was the balm and respite he needed.
“Negative,” Mandy said. “There is a small fire in the woods beside the accident site. First responders are attempting to extinguish the fire. With the wind gusts, it’s a game of whack-a-mole. Negative to a fire.”
“Negative to a fire,” Creed repeated. He didn’t disagree, but these were desperate conditions, and choices could be life or death.
“Our situation includes a second victim. We were able to extract Sheelah Morrison from the car. She is unconscious and has been since the time of our interventions. We don’t know if she was breathing before she was pulled to land.
Once on land, she received CPR and artificial breath for seven minutes before she vomited and resumed breathing on her own.
She hasn’t regained consciousness. We had to make-do dress her in trash bags, she’s in recovery position, and we are out of ideas and out of supplies.
” Creed read out the notes that he had for Sheelah’s status, moving through his list of vital stats and describing what he saw.
“Thank you, Creed. I’m adding the two victims and their status to the triage list.”
“Auralia was also in the car accident, and then her car went off the bridge. She has been in the cold river several times. She needs to go to a hospital for a check-up. I can get her out, but that would mean abandoning the women. Our situation is devolving. The river waters are running fast and cold, and are rising. The embankment is a steep-angle rescue, possibly a high-angle rescue. This situation necessitates a rope system and gurneys for evacuation. There is no way that Auralia and I can move these women to higher ground.”
“I am documenting your condition,” Mandy said.
“Do you have a Search and Rescue team available with technical capability?”
“I’m putting those parameters into the system.
A search and rescue team is on hand, but it is not a technical rescue team.
We do have a supply van headed toward Strike Force.
We have a call-out for any employees with technical capacity to report for duty.
Should I put through a call to emergency management and ask them to bring in a team from the Blue Ridge? ”
“That’s hours away, Mandy, we don’t have hours. The river waters are rising, and there’s no place for us to go.”
“Hold while I review assets. The Strike Force team is working on life-or-death scenarios and is unavailable. While I put this into the system, I have some better news. Parker and his grandmother arrived at the hospital. They are being seen by the emergency room. She’s been released, and Parker is up and speaking.
He will be admitted, but his condition is stable. I also have an update on the children.”
“My babies, Charlotte, Joey, and Marybelle?”