Saving Maddie's Baby. Marion Lennox
fighting the need to cough, and the need to breathe through the grit. Desperately trying to sound in control. Don’t start a procedure before explaining it to the patient, she reminded herself, even if she was trapped in a place that scared her witless.
Malu had relapsed into silence. She knew Malu. He was a large, tough islander from the outermost island of the M’Langi group.
He had a wife and two small children.
She pushed harder.
She had morphine in her bag. If she had another pair of hands …
She didn’t.
His pants were ripped. Yes! Still pressing with one hand, she used the other and tugged the jagged cloth. The cloth ripped almost to the ankle.
Now she was fumbling one-handed in her bag for scissors. Thank heaven she was neat. There was so much dust … Despite the torchlight she could hardly see, but the scissors were right where she always stored them.
One snip and she had the tough fabric cut at the cuff, and that gave her a length of fabric to wind. The miners had tried to use a belt as their tourniquet but it was too stiff. The torn trouser leg was a thousand times better.
She twisted and wound, tying the pad—her ex-jacket—into place. She twisted and twisted until Malu cried out again.
‘Malu, the worst’s over,’ she told him as she somehow managed to knot it. ‘The bleeding’s stopped and my hands are now free. I’ll make us masks to make breathing easier. Then I’ll organise something to dull the pain.’
And get some fluids into you, she added to herself, saying silent prayers of thanks that she had her bag with her, that she’d had it beside her when the collapse had happened, that she’d picked it up almost automatically and that she hadn’t dropped it. She had saline. She could set up a drip. But in this dust, to try and keep things sterile …
Concentrate on keeping Malu alive first, she told herself. After so much blood loss she had to replace fluids. She’d worry about bugs later.
Malu was barely responding. His pulse … His pulse …
Get the fluids in. Move!
Five minutes later Malu had morphine on board and she had a makeshift drip feeding fluids into his arm. She’d ripped her shirt and created makeshift masks to keep the worst of the dust from their lungs. She sat back and held the saline bag up, and for the first time she thought she might have time to breathe herself.
She still felt like she was choking. Her eyes were filled with grit.
They were both alive.
‘Doc?’ Malu’s voice was a whisper but she was onto it.
‘Mmm?’
‘Macca and Reuben … They were carrying me.’
‘I know.’
‘Reuben’s my uncle. You reckon they’ve made it?’
‘I don’t know.’ There was no point lying; Malu would know the risks better than she did. She grasped his hand and held. There was nothing else she could do or say.
The thought of trying to find them, trying to struggle out through the mass of rubble … Even if she could leave Malu, the thing was impossible. The rubble around them was unyielding.
Malu’s hand gripped hers, hard. ‘Don’t even think about trying to dig out,’ he muttered, and she thought that even though his words were meant as protection to her, there was more than a hint of fear for himself. To be left alone in the dark … ‘It’s up to them outside to do the rescuing now. Meanwhile, turn off the lights.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The lights. We don’t need ‘em. Conserve …’
‘Good thinking,’ she said warmly, and flicked off her torch. Then she flicked off the torch app on her phone. But as the beam died, a message appeared on the screen. When had that come in?
She wouldn’t have heard.
The message was simple.
Maddie? Tell me you’re not down the mine. On way with Cairns Air Sea Rescue. Josh.
Josh.
Josh was coming.
Her phone was working. Help was on its way.
It was amazing that the signal had reached down here, but this was a shallow tunnel, with ventilation shafts rising at regular intervals. The simple knowledge that she had phone reception made her feel better. And Josh was coming … All of a sudden she felt a thousand per cent lighter. She told Malu and felt the faint relaxation of the grip on her hand. Cairns Air Sea Rescue would be the forerunners, she knew. The cavalry was heading this way.
She gripped her phone hard, as if it alone was a link to the outside world. Help. Heavy machinery. Skill, technology, care. All the things needed to get them out of here.
Josh was coming.
It shouldn’t make one scrap of difference that Josh would be one of the rescue crew. Their marriage had been over for years. They talked occasionally as casual acquaintances. Friends? Probably not even that.
But still … Josh was coming.
‘So you still got reception?’ Malu whispered, sounding incredulous, and she looked at the one bar out of five signalling a really weak link to the outside world.
‘Just.’
‘Tell ‘em to hurry,’ Malu muttered. ‘And tell them if there’s one single camera at the mine mouth then I need a new pair of trousers before they bring me out.’
She even managed a chuckle. He was so brave.
His pulse was so weak …
‘I’ll tell them,’ she said and ventured a text back.
Yeah, we’re underground. There’s a bit of rock between us and the entrance. We’re not very respectable. If you’re coming in we’d appreciate a change of clothes. There’s a distinct lack of laundry facilities down here.
She read it to Malu and he managed a chuckle. She should say more, she thought. She should give a complete medical update but for now it was enough that she was breathing and Malu was breathing.
She just had to keep it that way until Josh …
Until the cavalry arrived.
The plane was taxiing out onto the runway. ‘Phones off now,’ the pilot snapped, and Josh went to flick off his phone—and then paused as a message appeared.
If you’re coming in we’d appreciate a change of clothes. There’s a distinct lack of laundry facilities down here.
He swore. Then he swore again.
‘Josh?’ Beth was watching, all concern.
‘She’s down there,’ he said grimly. ‘Maddie’s trapped.’
‘Then all the more reason to turn your phone off so we can take off.’ But she took the phone from his hands and stared at the screen, and her face tightened. This team were used to horror, but when it affected one of their own …
‘Wait thirty seconds,’ she told the pilot, and she started texting.
‘What?’ He tried to grab his phone back, but she turned her back on him and kept typing. Then the text sent, and she handed it back.
He looked down at what she’d written.
We’re on our way. With Josh in the lead. He’ll be in there with you, even if he has to dig in with his bare hands.
‘Beth …’ He could hardly speak.
‘Truth?’ she queried, and he tried to swallow panic. And failed.
‘Truth,’ he muttered, and he flicked