Where There's Smoke

“And call somebody at Tackett Oil,” Sheriff Baxter shouted. “That well is too damn close for comfort.” The deputy, Gus, got on his police radio.

“Sheriff, can I use the cellular phone in your car to call the county hospital?” The sheriff bobbed his head.

She slid into the driver’s seat of the patrol car and placed her call. Luckily she was put through to an efficient emergency room nurse. She explained the situation.

“Dispatch your ambulances at once. Send extra emergency supplies, painkillers and syringes, bandages, portable oxygen canisters.” They only had two ambulances, so she suggested that reinforcements be called from surrounding counties. “Also, alert Medical Center and Mother Frances Hospital in Tyler. We’ll probably need their helicopters to take the most seriously injured to their trauma centers.

“Tell them to put their disaster teams on standby. Notify all regional blood banks that extra units of blood might be needed, and get an inventory of what types are immediately available. They’ll also need extra staff. It’s going to be a messy night.”

“Over there!” Sheriff Baxter was wildly gesturing to the firemen when she rejoined him.

Shouts could be heard coming from the wing of the motel that hadn’t been demolished by the original blast. Lara watched fearfully as a group of volunteer firemen entered the burning building. At any second, another explosion might take their lives.

After several tormenting moments, they began leading out survivors. Two of the firemen were carrying victims on their shoulders. Others were walking under their own power, but Lara could see that they were dazed, burned, and choking from smoke inhalation.

She instructed the firemen to line them up on the ground, then she moved among them, assessing their injuries, mentally noting the ones who were the most critically injured, dispensing the only medicine she had at the moment—encouragement.

The wail of sirens had never been so welcome. The first of the ambulances arrived and disgorged three paramedics. Working quickly with them, she started IVs, began giving oxygen, and indicated which of the injured should be taken immediately to the hospital. Paramedics unloaded several boxes of emergency supplies for her use, then sped away with their injured passengers.

The others looked at her through pain-glazed eyes. She hoped they understood how difficult it was to play God, to decide who would go and who would stay.

The firemen made other forays into the blaze. The number of survivors increased, but that made it more difficult for Lara to deal with everyone. Two were in shock. Several were crying, one was screaming in agony. Some were unconscious. She did what she could to administer essential first aid.

She was kneeling beside a man, applying a tourniquet to a compound fracture of his ulna, when car tires screeched dangerously close. She turned her head, hoping to see another ambulance.

Darcy Winston stumbled from the driver’s side of her El Dorado. “Heather!” she screamed. “Oh my God! Heather! Has anybody seen my daughter?”

She charged toward the building and would have rushed headlong into the inferno if one of the firemen hadn’t caught her and pulled her back. She fought him. “My daughter’s in there!”

“Oh, no,” Lara groaned. “No.” Had the girl with whom she’d developed an instant rapport been a casualty? She looked for Heather Winston among the rescued, but she wasn’t there.

“Sweet Jesus.”

At the sound of Key’s voice, Lara turned and realized with lightning clarity that he had arrived with Darcy. Shoving personal considerations aside, she said, “Help me, Key. I can’t handle this alone.”

“I’ll get a chopper. On the way I’ll call my sister and get her over here to help you.” He glanced in the distance. “Christ, that well—”

“They’ve already notified someone at Tackett Oil.”

“That’s number seven. It’s on Bowie’s route, I believe. He should be along shortly. Once he caps off the well, he’ll pitch in and help, too.”

He had remained in motion since alighting, rounding the hood of Darcy’s car and moving toward the driver’s side. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just please help me get these people to the hospital.”

“Be right back.” He jumped behind the wheel and sped away even before closing the car door. Moments following his departure, three more ambulances arrived.

The volunteer firemen carried five more victims from the building, replacing the ones Lara had dispatched to the hospital. An elderly woman succumbed to smoke inhalation a few minutes after her rescue. Her daughter held her lifeless hand and sobbed.

A toddler, who appeared unharmed, was crying for his mother. Lara didn’t know to whom he belonged, or if his mother had even been rescued.

“I’ll take care of him.”

The offer came from Marion Leonard. Lara’s lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t waste time on questions. “That would be very helpful. Thank you.” She passed the crying child to Marion, who carried him away, speaking soothingly.

Jack Leonard was there too. “Tell me what to do, Dr. Mallory.”

“I’m sure the firemen could use some help dispensing oxygen.” He nodded and went to do as she suggested.