Charlotte Maclay - Bold And Brave-hearted

THE FIRE ENGINE from Station Six roared to a stop outside the KPRX-TV building. Jay Tolliver hopped out as he had a hundred times before in response to fires, explosions and other disasters, man-made and otherwise. The earthquake had been a substantial one. He’d heard calls for help coming into dispatch from all over Paseo del Real, a moderate-size town in central California.

Their dispatcher, Emma Jean Witkowsky, had loudly announced between calls that she’d predicted this was earthquake weather. She hadn’t, of course. But that never stopped her from claiming she had psychic powers—all due to her gypsy blood, she assured them.

A controlled surge of adrenaline shot through Jay as he pulled his helmet down tight. His job was to concentrate on this one building, saving lives and property where he could—the former more important than the latter.

In the cab of the truck, the fire station’s mascot, Mack Buttons, a chocolate dalmatian, waited to see if he’d be called upon to calm traumatized children—or adults. Everyone at Station Six had a job to do.

The battalion chief was already at the scene shouting orders.

“Tolliver and Gables, we’ve got a partial collapse of the back third of the building and reports there are still victims inside. Do a preliminary search.” He turned away quickly and ordered another pair of men into the neighboring building that had fared somewhat better, at least from outward appearances.

Jay snagged a fire ax and so did Mike Gables. Together they jogged toward the TV building’s entrance. In the adjacent parking lot, car sirens set off by the earthquake screamed. Lights from emergency vehicles flashed red across the Spanish-style stucco building and the surrounding scaffolding that suggested the TV station had been in the process of remodeling—or maybe earthquake proofing.

Too little too late, Jay thought grimly.

He pushed through the front door into a lobby where only an emergency light shone from high up on the wall. The floor was covered with broken stucco and the furniture had been rearranged as though by some decorator gone mad.

Gables said, “Looks like KPRX evening news is off the air.”

Flicking on his flashlight, Jay thought about Kimberly Lydell, the news anchor with the face of an angel and the smoky voice of a blues singer. He’d known her in high school but only from a distance. With a typical eighteen-year-old’s raging libido, every time he’d heard her voice back then he’d gotten aroused. The past dozen years hadn’t changed anything. Watching her on the tube was still an exercise in frustration—she’d gone from sixteen-year-old prom queen material to star quality.

He hoped to God she wasn’t one of the victims trapped inside this old building.

They made their way along the hallway to the stairs.

“Anybody here?” Jay shouted, his voice muffled by the hard plastic shield in front of his face.

Cautiously they started up the stairs. Gables was a good partner to have. Experienced. Someone you felt safe with protecting your back.

On the second floor the debris was thicker, glass and plaster under their feet. A beam down. They’d passed the door to the first office when they heard a sound.

“I’ll check it out,” Gables said.

Jay kept going down the hallway. An electrical wire dangled from the ceiling, clicking a slow rhythm against the wall. No danger there unless they suddenly regained power. Then the wire would be hot and could start a fire.

“Help!”

He stopped in his tracks. The call had been weak. Female.

“Help me!” she cried again.

He followed the sound. “Keep talking, lady. I’ll find you.”

“In here.”

Giving his shoulder to a jammed door, he pushed it open and swept the room with his flashlight. A broadcast studio, he realized, and his adrenaline kicked up a notch. Kimberly did the six o’clock local news. He ought to know. Like most of the men in Paseo del Real, he caught it as often as he could. The earthquake had struck at 6:14. It was probably 6:45 by now.

Whoever was here had been stuck for a half hour. Dangerous business.

The beam of his flashlight zeroed in on a woman with collar-length blond hair. His gut clenching, he called on all of his professional training to keep calm. Not to race in there and make matters worse.

Pressing the talk key on the mike attached to his jacket, Jay said, “I’ve got a female victim on the second floor, third door on the right. I’m going in.”

Gables’s voice warned him to be careful. His male victim was conscious and Mike was moving him to safety. He’d be back.

“Please…I’m…hurt.”

“Stay put. I’m on my way.” Jay worked his way around toppled cameras and other debris. The roof had collapsed on the far side of the room, bringing down part of the ceiling with it. A wooden beam, one of those heavy Spanish-style numbers, had fallen into the middle of things. It’d be hell to drag out of there on his own and he saw immediately that the beam was resting right across her legs.

He knelt down next to her, forcing a calmness he’d been trained to communicate but one he wasn’t feeling at all. “Hi. How’re you doing?”

“Outside of being scared to death, you mean?”

He grinned behind his visor. One tough lady—

Then he noticed her bloody face. From what he could see, there were deep lacerations on her left cheek, her creamy complexion already showing signs of discoloration.

Pulling out a sterile compress stored in the lining of his hat for this very purpose, he fought a wave of nausea as he ripped open the package. Hell, he’d seen injured people before. Dead people, too. But not Kim—every man’s dream woman.

“Looks like you’re doing a little bleeding. Let me put this compress on your wound and then we’ll see if we can get you out of here.” He placed it on her cheek and she winced but didn’t cry out. Tough. And brave. “Can you hold it in place for me?”

She nodded, watching his every move.

It didn’t take Jay long to determine he’d need help to lift the beam off Kim’s legs. He couldn’t get enough leverage with his ax. Sitting back on his haunches, he keyed the microphone—

And that’s when the second quake struck.

Instantly he grabbed his hat and placed it over Kim’s head to protect her from falling debris. He covered the rest of her slender body with his own to shield her as best he could. She felt fragile and vulnerable as more stucco and plaster rained down and the building shook on its foundation. Wood splintered and metal groaned. Sirens wailed.

Finally the ground stopped shaking. But he didn’t. A good, solid quake could give even a professional a bad case of the jitters.

“You still with me?” he asked, lifting the hat from her face.

“I wouldn’t think of leaving the party early when it’s as exciting as this.” She gave him a tremulous half smile.

He chuckled.

Over his mike, Gables said, “Jay, you okay?”

“We’re both enjoying the ride,” he replied. “But any time you can get us some help, I’m sure the lady would like to dance with somebody else for a while. She’s pinned under a beam. I’m going to need a pry bar and some extra muscle. A paramedic would be helpful, too.”

“Gotcha. Unfortunately, that last roller knocked the staircase loose. It may be a while before we can get to you.”

Jay checked on Kim. She wasn’t bleeding heavily but he was worried about her pinned legs. Loss of circulation could have serious effects. But he couldn’t do much about that at the moment.

“We’ll be here when you get here, buddy,” he said into the mike. “Just don’t take a long lunch break, okay?”

“Understood.”

Looking up at him, Kim said, “If there’s another quake, this whole building could go down. Maybe you ought to—”