A Soldier's Reunion. Cheryl Wyatt

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      Screams of a dozen children drifted through the smoke and clamored for Mandy Manchester’s attention.

      Disregarding her own pain and fear, she scrambled through mazes of twisted metal, forcing her feet across puddles of burning gasoline. “M-must get to them. Please help me.”

      But who was listening? No one. Not for a long time.

      Today, today please hear me—for them.

      Determination compelled her beyond an overturned truck. Its driver lifted himself from the cab. He’d be okay, she decided as she ran past. The dawning sight of a crumpled orange school bus clenched her stomach.

      Using her uninjured hand, she pried open the door. Fought to cover her mouth at the sight of the driver’s forehead, lacerated like the interstate. She was a doctor-in-training! Think she’d have learned to control outward reactions by now. She rushed to press his shirt hem to the angry knot.

      “Be okay. Just a little bump,” he slurred.

      Little? Hardly. “Hold pressure here. Don’t let up, okay?” She spoke in calm tones but a take-charge voice. He’d need at least five stitches. So would she, but who was counting?

      “I’m a doctor. Who’s hurt the most?” Mandy moved on to two adults who identified themselves as teachers. One rested a hand on the other, slumped over.

      “Her neck hurts.” She peered at Mandy with wide eyes.

      “Hold her neck like this and keep it still. Carefully walk her to an area where you’ll be seen by First Responders.” Mandy demonstrated by placing the teacher’s hand on her cohort’s neck and jaw. She helped them outside before returning to the mounting pandemonium on the bus, which leaned so far left it felt like it would soon topple over the gaping bridge.

      Something inside her screamed to get these children out. Triage training kicking in, she maneuvered down the aisle. Even with careful movement, the bus shifted several inches. Screams cut the air in tones resembling ambulance sirens.

      Halted and heart pounding, Mandy grasped a green spongy seat with her good hand. She faced the tousled group.

      Several frightened eyes stared back.

      “Is anyone hurt bad enough they can’t walk?” At her voice, hysteria hushed to whimpers.

      A dozen little heads looked at themselves, then all around. Disheveled hair shook and tiny trembling mouths warbled, “No.”

      “This is terrible and scary, I know. But we’re going to get you to safety, okay?” One by one, Mandy took the hands of the littlest ones and matched them with those of an older child.

      “Let’s make a game of it. Like a reverse Noah’s ark. Two-by-two.” She ushered each duo out the doors. Once all visible children were off the bus, Mandy directed them to the safest-looking intact portion of the bridge.

      Surely authorities knew by now it had collapsed. Surely they knew, and help would be here soon. Though it seemed an hour had passed already, probably only minutes had.

      After triple checking over every seat of the bus for unconscious children, Mandy helped the driver off. She assisted him to lie down flat near the teachers and joined the huddle of traumatized children.

      “H-how will we get off the bridge?” One little girl eyed their surroundings. Burning cars looked to be melting into the kind of tanker that transported flammable gas. It blocked one exit. A gaping hole the size of Refuge Memorial’s pediatric ward blocked the other.

      She faced the trembling child. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

      “J-Jayna.”

      “I’m Mandy. I’m training to be a doctor. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

      “A-a teacher.”

      “Good choice. I want you to think about how you would decorate your very first classroom, okay? Think about it really hard. Then I want you to tell me all about it once we get off this bridge. Okay? I’ll want every little detail.”

      Jayna nodded vigorously, eyes still big with fear.

      One boy stepped forth. “I wanna be a fireman. They help people.” He took the little girl’s hand. “Especially people who are very frightened.”

      Mandy smiled. “What’s your name?”

      “Caden,” the boy said.

      “Caden, you’ll make a grand fire chief some day.”

      Please let them live to fulfill their destinies.

      “Are there people in the cars?” Jayna’s voice escalated.

      “No. Thankfully, it looks like everyone escaped before the cars caught fire.” Mandy pointed up the bridge. “See? All those people huddling together? They can’t get to us, but they’ll keep each other calm. That’s what I need you to do, too, okay?”

      Caden leaned nose to nose with Jayna. “Yeah. We gotta get as brave as the big people. Can ya?”

      She nodded and swiped a finger across her nose.

      Another girl in a glittery “Princess” logoed shirt moved close and handed Jayna a tattered brown bear. “Here. Bearby will make you brave.”

      Mandy’s heart melted at the little child with teddy-bear-big eyes who looked like she longed to snatch the well-used toy back for herself. “That was nice, sweetie. What’s your name?” Mandy asked the girl who clasped Jayna’s other hand.

      “Reece North. And I want to be a famous rock star with big pink glasses and diva rhinestones when I grow up.”

      Smiling, Mandy faced the others. “Caden is right. СКАЧАТЬ