The Reunion Of A Lifetime: The Reunion of a Lifetime / A Bride to Redeem Him. Fiona Lowe

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       CHAPTER THREE

      THE TERRIFYING SCREECH of brakes penetrated Lauren’s terror, followed by the high-pitched sound of shattering glass. Shards rained down on her. A car horn blared. The acrid smell of rubber burned her nostrils. Her body protectively stilled, every sense on alert, trying to decode the situation—ascertain safety. She opened her eyes and found herself looking straight up into Charlie’s cornflower-blue eyes, still dominated by high-alert black. His gaze reflected everything she was feeling—shock, relief and an overwhelming sense of urgency.

      ‘Okay?’ he asked, his voice trembling.

      ‘I... Yes. I think so.’

      ‘Thank God.’ He pushed himself to his feet and grabbed her hand. She found her footing amongst the glass and vaguely noticed a rip in her pants.

      People ran towards them. A man she didn’t recognise—his face white with shock—gasped, ‘I thought you two were dead for sure.’

      ‘We’re fine,’ Charlie said, his voice suddenly loud and commanding. ‘We’re doctors. You call the police and ambulance. We’ll check on the others.’

      ‘Go to the doctors’ clinic,’ Lauren called out, her voice not quite as steady as Charlie’s. She pointed down the street in the direction of the surgery. ‘Tell Lexie I need the AED and the emergency kits. All of them.’

      ‘Emergency kits. Got it.’ The man turned and ran.

      Lauren quickly assessed the devastation in front of her. The rear of a small four-door sedan was protruding from the café and the jagged remains of the huge glass frontage hung over it like stalactites. Her thoughts took the obvious path—were the car’s occupants alive? Horrifying reality cramped her gut. What about the people inside the café? Had the car hit any of the staff or customers?

      Charlie, who was already at the driver’s door, looked up as if reading her thoughts. ‘Triage inside.’

      She nodded and ran. Fortunately, the door to the café hadn’t buckled and it opened. Steve, the young barista, and another man stood stunned and rooted to the spot, their horrified gazes fixed on the front of the car. Lauren saw a pair of female legs splayed at a rakish angle and protruding from under the car. As she dropped to her knees, she said firmly, ‘Steve. Find me a torch. You...’ she pointed to the second man ‘...do a head count. Tell me who else is hurt.’

      Both snapped to attention. ‘On it.’

      A phone with the torch app activated was thrust into Lauren’s hand and she crawled under the car. ‘It’s Lauren,’ she said to the woman, having no idea if she was a local or a tourist. Dead or alive. Conscious or unconscious. ‘I’m a doctor.’

      The woman didn’t move or make a sound. Lauren’s hand reached for the patient’s neck, her fingers seeking a carotid pulse. It took her a moment but she finally detected a faint and thready beat. Moving forward on her belly, she gained a few centimetres and somehow managed to check the woman’s pupils. Sluggish response to light.

      ‘Lauren!’ Charlie’s voice called out to her. ‘What have you got?’

      ‘Head injury and probable internal bleeding. Her breathing’s shallow but I can’t move or see enough to examine her.’

      ‘We need to pull her out.’

      ‘What about spinal injuries? Can’t you move the car back?’

      ‘Too risky. The front of the building might collapse. Here.’ His hand shoved a neck brace at her and she gave thanks for Lexie’s fast arrival with the emergency packs. ‘Put this on her.’

      ‘I need light.’

      ‘Got it.’ Charlie’s face appeared and he directed two phones towards her.

      Lying on her side, Lauren’s fingers felt thick and clumsy, and while she fitted the brace she agonised over the compromises that always came with triage—save a life but risk exacerbating an injury in the process. ‘Brace on.’

      ‘Her name’s Celine. Can you support her head while I pull her legs?’

      ‘I’ll have to come out and go back in at a different angle.’

      ‘Do it.’ Charlie said. ‘Fast.’

      Feeling like a trainee soldier, she wriggled out on her belly before re-entering so her head and Celine’s were next to each other. ‘Okay, but slowly.’

      ‘Got it. On my count,’ Charlie commanded. ‘One, two, three.’ The distance Celine needed to be moved wasn’t huge but it felt like miles. Lauren concentrated on keeping the patient’s spine in alignment. ‘And we’re clear,’ Charlie yelled. ‘She’s not breathing.’

      Lauren rolled out from under the car as sirens blared. Charlie was already doing CPR and she grabbed the automatic emergency defibrillator. Ripping open the woman’s blouse, she quickly applied the electrode pads. ‘Clear,’ she said loudly. Charlie’s hands moved off Celine’s sternum and he held them up as if a gun were being levelled at him. She pressed the shock button. Celine’s body shuddered. Charlie recommenced CPR, counting to thirty before giving the patient two breaths.

      ‘Stop CPR. Analysing,’ the electronic voice of the AED instructed.

      Charlie lifted his hands ‘Look at her trachea. Grab a cannula.’

      ‘Tension pneumothorax?’ Lauren handed him a fourteen-gauge needle and swabbed Celine’s upper chest. The pressure would be preventing her heart filling with venous blood. With nothing to pump, the heart was a fibrillating mess.

      ‘I’m hoping.’ Charlie plunged the needle into the skin between the second rib space in the mid-clavicular line and a faint whoosh of air followed. ‘Now we might be able to get her back.’

      ‘Clear!’ Lauren said loudly again, before depressing the shock button. Her eyes were glued to the liquid display. Thank, God. ‘Sinus rhythm,’ she said, catching the relief on Charlie’s face. ‘Good call.’

      He shrugged. ‘We’re not out of the woods yet. You got this? I’ll check on the others.’

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