“Crush syndrome.” Her throat moved with a long slow swallow. “I’ve heard of that. People die from it after they get free. I saw it on a rerun of that TV show about a crabby drug-addict doctor.”
“We just need to be careful.” In a crush situation, tissue died, breaking down, and when the pressure was released, toxins flooded the body, overloading the kidneys. And for just that remote possibility, he hadn’t included potassium in her IV.
Panic flooded her glittering blue eyes. “Are you planning to cut off my foot?” Her arm twitched harder, faster, until she flailed. “Are you going to put something else in that IV? Something to knock me out?”
He covered her fingers with his before she dislodged the port in her hand. “There’s nothing in there but fluid. I’m being honest with you now, but if you panic, I’m going to have to start feeding you a line of bullshit to calm you down. Now, you said you wanted the unvarnished truth—”
“I do. Okay. I’m breathing. Calming down. Give me the IV.”
He patted her wrist a final time. “I already did.”
Blinking fast, she looked at the tape along her hand. A smile pushed through the grime on her face. “You’re good. I was so busy trying not to freak out I didn’t even notice.”
“Not bad for my first time.”
“Your first time?”
“I’m kidding.” And working to distract her again from the rattle overhead, the fear that at any second the whole damn place could collapse onto them.
She laughed weakly, then stronger. “Thank you.”
“It’s just an IV.”
“For the laugh. I was afraid I would never get to do that again.” Her fingers relaxed slowly, tension seeping from them as surely as fluid dripped out of the bag. “The second they uncover us, you’ll make Joshua top priority. Forget about me until he’s taken care of.”
“We’re going to get you both out of here. I swear it.”
“Easy for you to claim that. If I die, it’s not like I can call you a liar.”
A dead woman and child. He resisted the urge to tear through the rocks with his bare hands and to hell with waiting on the crews above. He stowed his gear, twisting to avoid that damn stone stabbing his side.
“Hey,” Amelia whispered. “That was supposed to be a joke from me this time.”
“Right, got it.” Admiration for her grit kicked through his own personal fog threatening to swallow him whole. “You’re a tough one. I think you’re going to be fine.”
“I’m a county prosecutor. I chew up criminals for a living.”
“’Atta girl.” He settled onto his back, watching the hypnotic drip, drip. His fingers rested on her wrist to monitor her pulse.
“Girl?” She sniffed. “I prefer to be called a woman or a lady, thank you very much.”
“Where I come from, it’s wise not to be nitpicky with the person who’s saving your ass.”
“Score one for you.” She scraped a torn fingernail through the dust on the ground. Her sigh stirred the dust around that shaky line. “I’m good now. So you should go before this building collapses on top of you and keeps you from doing your job for other people.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to be.” He ignored a call from McCabe through his headset that pretty much echoed the woman’s words. “The second they give the go-ahead, I’m hauling you out of here, Amelia Bailey.”
“And Joshua. I want you to promise you’ll take care of him first.”
“I will do what I can for him,” he answered evasively.
Her wide eyes studied him for seven drips of the IV before she cleared her throat. “You don’t think he’s alive, do you? I can feel his pulse.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m not imagining it, damn it.” Her hand flipped and she grabbed his arm, her ragged nails digging deep with urgency. “I can feel his pulse in his wrist. He’s a little chilly, but he’s not cold. Just because he’s not screaming his head off doesn’t mean he’s dead. And sometimes, he moves. Only a little, but I feel it.” Her words tumbled over each other faster and faster until she dissolved into a coughing fit.
Ah, to hell with it. He unhooked his canteen. “Wet your mouth. Just don’t gulp, okay? Or they’ll kick my butt up there.”