Tremors. Debra Webb
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intact would soon collapse completely. She had to get out!
Ignoring the throb in her skull, she scrambled over the seat and tried the door behind the driver’s. It opened, but only a few inches. Not far enough for her to squeeze out.
“Damn it!”
The power windows wouldn’t work. No surprise there, considering the condition of the hood.
The rear hatch.
Clambering over the seat and into the cargo compartment, she shoved against the hatch door. No luck.
Panic slid through her, making it nearly impossible to think clearly. She had to concentrate!
She kicked at the window in the hatch. It opened separately from the door. That might be her only chance of escape. The latch was on the outside. From what she could tell in the dim lighting, there was enough space for the window part to lift up. All she had to do was get it open. She kicked at it again. It didn’t budge.
She needed something to break the glass.
Lisa tamped down the rising panic and fumbled with the carpet beneath her feet. The spare-tire compartment would have a jack. She could use that. Her fingers felt numb and wouldn’t work properly.
“Hurry…hurry,” she urged, knowing that she was quickly losing the battle with her fear.
A sound like thunder rumbling in over the ocean jerked her attention upward. The whole parking garage shuddered.
She had to get out of here.
She needed help.
Her cell phone.
Lisa scrambled back to the front seat and found her purse. By the time she found her phone, her fingers were trembling and her throat had gone so dry she wasn’t sure speech would be possible. She had to let someone know she was in here before she did anything else.
Closing her eyes, she held the phone a moment and took a deep, halting breath. She had to calm down. Time was running out; she had to make herself clear. She couldn’t screw up what might be her last chance at rescue.
Focusing on the small keys, she entered the three most significant numbers known to any American alive.
911.
A new knot of panic tightened in her throat as ring after ring shrilled in her ear.
Why wasn’t the operator answering?
Was the whole city damaged so badly that even emergency services were out of commission?
Dear God, she hadn’t thought of that.
What about her family…the clinic?
The animals?
Greg?
What about…Joe?
He would be in the middle of the devastation, attempting to rescue victims like her.
“911. What is the nature of your emergency?”
Tears stung Lisa’s eyes.
“I’m trapped,” she managed to say past the lump in her throat. “I need help.”
“Give me your location, ma’am,” the operator said with amazing calm.
“I’m…I’m…” For just one moment her mind went blank. Lisa clamped down on her lower lip and stemmed the tears that tried to flow. Calm. She had to be calm. “I’m in the parking garage.” She gave the address.
“Yes, ma’am. We already have a rescue team there. Can you tell me which level you parked on when you entered the garage?”
“I parked on the…” Another moment of uncertainty. “The third level,” she said quickly. “The rubble is all around my car. I can’t get out. It…” More creaking and groaning tugged at her attention. “It sounds like the whole thing is going to collapse. Please.” She couldn’t hold back the emotion from her voice this time. “Help me.”
CHAPTER TWO
“CAP’N!”
Joe turned as Spike double-timed it over to his position. “What’s up?” If this was another attempt to talk him out of going in again, Spike might as well save his breath. Every instinct warned Joe that there were more victims trapped. Victims still breathing. He had to do all he could to see that everyone got out safely.
It was more than just his job…it was the right thing to do.
“Dispatch’s got a vic on the horn,” Spike explained. “She called in on her cell phone. Says she’s trapped on level three, far side.” His gaze focused solemnly on Joe’s. “There’s rubble all around her vehicle, a gray SUV. The power windows have been disabled and she hasn’t been able to kick her way out.”
Damn. Joe shook his head. Women should always carry a brick in their cars for that reason. If the power windows failed, they could break the glass.
“All right,” he told Spike. “That’s where I’m headed.”
“Cap’n.” O’Shea pushed her way into the discussion. “Going back in there now would be suicide.”
Leave it to O’Shea to state the obvious so plainly. “And if I don’t, the lady dies,” he countered.
His loyal firefighter glanced away. “I know.” Her gaze swung back to his, renewed determination there. “Then we’ll both go in. You’ll need backup.”
He was shaking his head before the answer had time to form on his tongue. “No way. I’m not taking anyone in there with me.” Quickly he checked his gear. Getting back out might not be easy. With O’Shea shadowing his step, he headed back to the truck for a rappelling rope. “Get a canine over here and find out how soon we can have some heavy equipment on-site. Just in case,” he added over his shoulder as he checked his communications mike.
A few other members of his squad had gathered around him by then. All knew exactly what his last comment meant. The heavy equipment was in case he didn’t make it out and they had to start searching for bodies, including his own, rather than survivors. Backhoes and the like were the least desirable method for uncovering survivors.
“I think we should check with the ICS commander before we—” Spike began.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Joe challenged, “we’re in the middle of a crisis here. There’s a lot more damage than just this parking garage. Those in charge have their hands full. We’ll do this my way. The situation is far too unstable to risk any more lives than absolutely necessary. No one follows me in unless I call for help. No one.” He looked from O’Shea to the others, making eye contact with each one, leaving nothing to speculation. “Is that understood?”
A rumble of reluctant Yes, Cap’n’s went through the group.
“All right. Get dispatch to patch into my com link. I need direct contact with the lady if I’m going to find her.”
“Yes, sir.”
The members of Joe’s squad dispersed. Some left to task work with the engineers, surveying the damage to check for possible passages in which to search for trapped victims once a canine unit was on-site. Others would help tend injuries and route patients to the hospital as necessary. But Joe knew that every single member of his team would be on high alert, fully prepared to come in after him if need be.
He surveyed the garage once more.
The stairwell and elevator shaft leading to the upper levels were damaged beyond use, even if he’d been inclined to take the risk. Not much remained in the way of structural support. Joe had a bad feeling that the entire garage could go anytime now. Whoever this lady was, she was definitely living on borrowed time. He hoped like hell he could get to her in time.
The climb around and over massive piles of concrete and twisted metal took longer this time.