The Lone Wolf's Craving. Tina Beckett
obstructing the view of cars still coming toward them, the already bad accident could turn catastrophic.
He yelled to one of the bystanders, “Can you try signaling a warning to cars that are headed this way?”
He reached the victim who’d fallen, a young male, and crouched down, his leg screaming as the muscles contracted too quickly. He ignored the pain, noting the trickle of blood from the man’s mouth was due to a busted lip and not from internal injuries.
Sour fumes hit his nostrils, drifting up his sinus passages.
Alcohol. Shit! This was the idiot who’d swerved into their lane. He wasn’t hurt, just drunk.
“How can I help?” A man’s voice came from over his shoulder. He glanced back beyond the man who had spoken and saw Kate running toward him, as well. He motioned her back, not needing a million bodies wandering around on a smoky roadway.
“Think you can drag him to the curb, in case his car goes up?” He hated that he had to ask for help, that he couldn’t do it himself, but there were people in other cars who might be worse off.
But the man got beneath the drunk’s arms and dutifully hauled him away from the smoking vehicle. Luke called out, “Don’t let him go anywhere. The police will want to have a word or two with him.”
Kate got to him just as he reached the second car. “I called it in. Help is on the way.”
He glanced at her, before taking in the occupants of the next car, whose small red hood was now a crumpled mess. “I thought I told you to stay back.”
“I know, but I’m strong. I can help.”
The inference was plain. She’d seen him hobble down the road. Seen him pass off the first victim to someone else. No time to worry about that now.
He nodded at the backseat of the vehicle, the sudden sound of sirens bearing down on them a welcome relief.
“There’s a car seat. Check it for me, will you? But if there’s a child, don’t move it.”
Not waiting for an answer, he went around the front and yanked the driver’s-side door open. The unconscious woman inside gasped, her mouth wide open as she sucked down air, the harsh unevenness of the sound sending an ominous chill through him. The edge of the steering wheel—despite the presence of an airbag—pressed against the right side of the woman’s chest, which meant the force generated by the impact had traveled through the steering column and into her body.
He gulped, his heart rate spiking off the charts when he noted that with each inspiration the left side of the patient’s chest rose in a normal fashion, but a significant portion of her right side collapsed inward instead of expanding—a clear sign that multiple ribs had broken free, preventing her diaphragm from doing its job.
Flail chest. Game-changer.
He needed to get her out of that car. Now.
A uniform appeared at his right, the man ducking his head to take a look. “You the doctor?”
“Yes. I have a critical patient here. Do we have an ETA on the ambulance?”
“One’s about a minute out, another’s on the way.”
“She’s first.” He nodded at his patient, two fingers automatically going to her carotid artery to take her pulse, his gaze straying to the hand of his watch as he calculated the beats per minute.
“I’ll see what I can do.” The cop moved away.
“Tell them I need a backboard,” he yelled after he’d gotten the count.
Rapid and thready, as he’d expected.
“Kate?” he called, remembering he’d asked her to check out the car seat. “What have you got back there? Anything?”
“Yes, there’s a baby. I—I don’t know how old she is. She’s wrapped in a blanket, and she’s breathing. I can’t see blood anywhere, but she’s unconscious.”
“Okay, just stay with her for a few minutes and tell me if there are any changes.”
He heard the telltale slam of a truck door nearby. Thank God. His mind followed the sound indicators.
Swish. Click. Wheels of a gurney being lowered and snapped into place.
Rattle, rattle, rattle. The stretcher being wheeled across the roadway toward him.
Another head appeared. “What have you got?”
“Probable rib fractures resulting in a flail chest. Pulse one-twenty and thready.” He paused for a second before forcing the words out. “I’ll need some help getting her out of here, though.”
The paramedic blinked, his glance skipping over Luke’s face for a second before nodding. “Right.”
Luke limped back a pace or two to let the EMTs by, his hand going to his thigh and digging his fingers into the flesh to take his mind off the growing pain. It was nothing in comparison to the life-and-death battle going on inside that car. And she had a child. “There’s a baby in the back,” he said to the paramedics.
“My partner just had a look. Her vitals are strong. We’ll tend to the baby next and bring her with us in the ambulance. Injuries in the other cars appear to be minimal.”
“Good.” At least he’d made the right call in staying with this particular patient. “Careful with her back and with the ribs on her right side. The steering wheel is still making contact there.”
As soon as they’d secured the patient, he turned to Kate. “Do you have your international driver’s permit?”
“Yes, why?”
“I need to ride with her in the ambulance, if possible. We’re about a block away from the hotel. Just turn right at the next corner. And for heaven’s sake, keep to the left. Think you can get there without killing yourself or anyone else?”
“Yes, but what about your car?”
“I’ll pick it up later. I don’t want to leave it here, and I need to go. Now.”
Her glance went to his leg, where his fingers were still working to relieve the cramping. “Are you going to be all right?”
So she had noticed. Perfect.
He made his hand go slack, digging into his pocket for his car keys, instead. “I’ll be fine.”
One of the EMTs called over, “Ready to transport.”
Kate reached over and plucked the keys from him. “Go. I’ll take care of your car. Call me when you’re done, okay?”
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