#2
A rhythmic noise caught my attention, followed by a muffled, “Here.”
Adrenaline raced through my system as I picked my way into the unstable structure.
“Keep talking to me. I’m trying to get to you,” I ordered, scanning a flashlight across the area, looking for the best path. Who could survive this destruction?
“I’m here,” came a shaky voice, a little louder this time. It was high-pitched, exhausted, definitely female.
“Ok, I hear you. Keep talking, sweetheart. I’m on my way.” My response was unprofessional, but who cared.
I braced myself on a beam, treading carefully through the remnants of a hallway. My pulse raced, my muscles hurt, and my lungs heaved, but by God, I was getting this woman out of here.
“Can you walk?” Maybe I could talk her into meeting me.
“I don’t know. I’m sort of —”
I rounded the doorway, the beam of my flashlight landing on a slight figure buried under a large branch. Her arm rose to cover her eyes.
“— trapped,” she finished.
I shined the light over her, trying to see where she was pinned. On one end, she might be able to crawl through.
“Are you injured, or just buried under this mess?” With any luck, she’d be able to assist me in getting her out. But since she was still here, hours after the tornado had been through, I’d probably need to pull her free.
“Well, my leg hurts pretty bad,” she said with a shaky voice.
I crept closer, shoving debris out of my way. The walls and floor of the house creaked with each movement. Fuck, we needed to hurry.
When I got close enough to reach her, I dropped my bag and offered my hand. “Take my hand. I’m going to pull you this way. Can you do that?”
“I’ll try.”
She took my hand, but with my tug she let out a piercing cry.
“Stop! My leg is caught.”
I stopped pulling and leaned back, studying the situation. The tree groaned and popped around us.
I leaned over her to find a two-by-four fragment protruding from the quilt covering her, blood staining the edge of impingement.
It was going to hurt like a bitch to move her. And I didn’t have enough time to truly assess the situation and stabilize her.
I needed to get her free because we had to move.
Now.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” I had to keep her talking while we did this. Maybe if I distracted her enough, I could tug her out.
“Jordan.”
“Okay, Jordan. I’m Nate. We are going to work together to get you out of here. You up to helping me?” There was no reason why I told her my first name. It wasn’t a normal part of protocol, but this was unlike any other scene.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Can you see my laptop bag and phone anywhere?”
I scanned the light over the tub, found the bag, and pulled it free. There was no phone in sight.
I set her bag down next to mine and reached for the board.
“Okay, Jordan, I’m going to pull this board away. I want you to bite down on that quilt if you have to, but try to keep still.”
There was a soft rustle as she shifted and then she said, “All right, I’m ready.”
I gripped the board and gave a test pull. A slight whimper rose from Jordan.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Normally, I’d be a helluva lot easier about this, but I’m afraid we’ve got to get out of here, like now, before this tree crashes on us. So, here we go. On count of three. One, two.” I tightened my grip. “Three.”
I tugged with all my might. Jordan let out a piercing screech and then fell silent. I flashed my light over to find her slumped, her breath shallow. But she was free.
The tree creaked, and the house shook.
Time to go.
I grabbed our bags, tossing hers over my shoulder messenger style, then reached in to pull her from the tub. With a grunt, I lifted her deadweight over my shoulder, then spun around, retracing my path out of the house.
I cleared the porch and laid her gently on the ground in the solitary patch of untouched grass. Behind me, the tree shifted, a part of the house collapsing in a horrible crush of cracking wood and destruction.
A sharp gasp drew my attention back to Jordan.
“You okay?” I asked, crouching beside her, aware that my own voice shook now.
“My leg hurts, but nothing else. What happened?”
I did a cursory assessment now that I had better access to her. Blood ran down her leg, but otherwise, she seemed to be relatively all right. Or as all right as one could be when their house had nearly collapsed on them.
“You passed out when I pulled the board. We need to get you out of here.” I said, swiping the sweat off my brow with a shaking hand.
“Sorry about passing out on you,” she said as she stood, gripping my arm as she tested her injured leg.
I tucked her under my arm, her hand gripping mine, and led her toward the pickup truck waiting at the end of the block. We’d navigated a couple of downed lines when my flashlight batteries finally bit the dust and we plunged back into darkness.
“Shit!” Jordan jolted as she took a step, clutching my hand tighter as she gasped.
“Hold still, let me see if I’ve got a backup light.”
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I flipped the light on. As it blazed through the dark, I realized the poor woman had walked a hundred yards or more through the debris filled street barefoot.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Why didn’t you say anything about your feet?”
“What?” I felt her turn toward me.
“Your feet are gonna get all kinds of buggered up out here in this mess. There’s all kinds of shit on the ground and you aren’t wearing shoes.”
“I didn’t even notice.”
Shock and adrenaline were for sure flowing through her veins if she didn’t feel the crap she was stepping on.
I handed her my phone. “Here. You’re on flashlight duty.” Before she could get a word in, I whipped her up into my arms and got us the fuck out of there.