Total Exposure. Tori Carrington
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Название: Total Exposure
Автор: Tori Carrington
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472052636
isbn:
She found her gaze pulled to Dan Egan’s powerful back, the thought ringing even truer.
A plaintive call echoed through the rain. Natalie was pretty sure someone was yelling for help, but given her position at the foot of the mountain, with the waves of the bay crashing against the shore behind her, she couldn’t be sure from which direction the cry was coming.
She realized she was still staring at Dan’s wide back when she saw another firefighter rush up to his side, pointing out something near the top of the shifting mountain. She squinted against the rain. A man stood on his roof, alternately shouting at the people below and rubbing his chest and left arm. Natalie slowly advanced toward Dan, her umbrella falling back even as she gripped it. Mindless of the rain soaking her hair and face, she watched the stranded man drop to his knees, silent now as he desperately clutched his left arm.
“That’s not good,” she murmured, coming to stand next to Dan.
“What is it?” he asked.
“He’s demonstrating the classic symptoms of cardiac arrest.”
Dan’s head whipped around, just as a burst of static sounded on the radio he held in his left hand. He lifted it to his ear and fiddled with the knobs before speaking into the mouthpiece. “Come again, HQ.”
“Call on the 911 line, Egan. A man says he’s trapped on the roof of his house at 432 Truesdale. The mud’s rising fast and he’s suffering from severe chest pains.”
Dan caught and held Natalie’s gaze. “Tell him we’ll get to him as soon as we can. Out.”
Natalie closed her umbrella and headed toward the Jeep for her bag.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Dan asked, grasping her arm.
She blinked at him and then at his hand on her arm. “I’ve got to help him.”
Dan’s face was drawn into hard lines. “To do that you’d have to get to him first.” He pointed to a spot just south of the house the man stood on. “See that? The bridge has been completely washed out. There’s no way my team can reach him anytime soon.”
Natalie swallowed. This was one of the hardest parts about being a physician—knowing you were trained to help people but not being able to do it. “There’s got to be some way. What about air rescue?” She looked up into the glowering sky. “Where’s the helicopter?”
“Unfortunately, the pilot’s off sick today and it’ll take too long to arrange backup.”
She stared at Dan, wanting him to do something, anything, to try to remedy the situation.
He seemed to realize he still held her arm. Cursing quietly, he released her and strode away.
Natalie followed on his heels. “What are you going to do?” she asked, fighting to keep up.
“Fly up there myself.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“I’m well trained in handling cardiac arrest cases, Nat.”
Nat. He’d called her Nat. No one but her brothers ever referred to her that way. Not even Charles. The familiarity sent warmth skittering over her chilled skin. “Your men have their hands full here. What are you proposing to do? Fly in there alone to take care of the situation?”
He stared at her long and hard, then finally said, “Grab your bag and let’s go.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES, a slick drive to the airport and a choppy flight later, Dan carefully navigated the medevac helicopter over the mountain. His experience as a helicopter pilot was extensive—he’d flown many emergency missions in the military throughout troubled areas of the world—but it had been awhile since he’d been at the controls.
He glanced at Natalie in the seat next to him, attempting to tune out how white she was. He’d tried to warn her against coming. These types of rescues weren’t for the faint of heart. Add in the rain that was coming down in heavy sheets again, and he was surprised the doc was able to keep her lunch down. He spared her slender body a glance. If she’d even eaten lunch.
“Over there!” Natalie shouted at him through the headphones, clearly not used to talking into the pencil-thin black microphone she’d pushed away from her cheek.
Dan spotted the house in question. Mud was rising at a fast rate around the two-story structure, which now looked like a one-story house. The man who had called 911 lay completely still on one side of the flat, Mediterranean-style roof, seemingly unaware of their approach.
“Where are you going?” Natalie asked.
“I have to circle back around and try to land in the clearing just behind the house.” Dan tapped the mike in front of his mouth, gesturing for her to move hers so he could hear her. “Let’s just pray the ground is solid enough to hold us.”
Natalie fiddled with the mike and nodded.
The blast from the helicopter’s rotor blades nearly flattened the pines around the small clearing and blew the rain into thick sheets around them. Dan carefully negotiated the landing and powered down the rotor the instant they touched ground while Natalie yanked at her seat harness. After commanding Spike to stay put, Dan opened his door, then reached over and popped the release on hers. He grabbed the rescue equipment and jumped out. She spared him a grateful look before clambering down herself, following in his wake as the chopper’s blades spun to a stop.
“Watch your step!” Dan shouted, grabbing hold of her rain slicker with his free hand to keep her from being swept down by a vein of shifting mud. The footing was questionable at best, downright hazardous at worst. He should never have allowed Natalie to come along. But she’d been right that he needed help. Every spare hand he had was busy trying to save those lower on the mountain.
Natalie stopped abruptly, staring at the sight before them.
The mud had risen another several feet and was now almost level with the roof of the house.
“We don’t have much time!” he shouted. “We need to get him out of there now!”
“I need to check him first.”
“No time for that! If we don’t move him now, it will be our bodies they’ll be digging out of this mess.”
Her pretty face went even paler, if that were possible. Dan helped her navigate the roof, then he set the lightweight stretcher next to their patient. If he had to, he could drag the guy out himself.
“He still has a pulse,” Natalie called, fastening an oxygen mask over the man’s mouth and nose. “Faint but sure.”
“Get his feet.”
Natalie grabbed the unconscious man’s ankles.
“On the count of three. One, two, three…”
Up and onto the stretcher he went.
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