Page 2 of Fractured Reunion

“I—don’t know what happened,” the driver stuttered.

“I know. We’re doctors and are here to help,” Maggie said from behind him.

Ignoring the screams and crying from the passengers wasn’t easy. He immediately focused on the right side of the bus where the truck had slammed into it. That side had sustained the most damage.

“If you’re not hurt, get off the bus,” he said in a stern tone. “We’re doctors here to help those who are injured.” He didn’t want to be sidetracked by people who were panicked but otherwise physically okay.

He stopped at the seat two rows behind the driver where a man was cradling his bloody arm. The extremity was clearly fractured, and the patient seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness.

Bending over the injured man, he checked for a pulse. Present but erratic enough to indicate he may have suffered heart damage too. He glanced over to where Maggie had stopped at the next set of passengers, a woman holding her young son.

“She’s not breathing and doesn’t have a pulse,” Maggie said, her gaze stricken.

The little boy clung to his mother, sobbing. Maggie gently pulled him away from the injured woman, and instantly the child wrapped his arms tightly around her neck.

“Let me get her on the floor so I can start CPR.” He moved on from the gentleman with the broken arm to provide life-saving treatment to the woman without a pulse.

Maggie and the little boy scooted back so he could place the woman on the floor of the narrow aisle between the seats. He double-checked to make sure she didn’t have a pulse before starting CPR.

To his surprise, Maggie shifted the little boy in her arms to kneel at the woman’s head. “I’ll hold her airway.”

“Check the others first,” he said between compressions. “I’ve got this.”

“Okay.” Maggie turned to begin examining the other crash victims even while the little boy clung to her like a monkey. The child had stopped crying but seemed as if he was determined not to let Maggie go.

Seeing them together only reinforced the reason their marriage had failed. Maggie was a natural with kids and deserved to be a mother.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the first responders. He waited as the first crew of EMTs took the man with the shattered arm out first, leaving the second pair of EMTs to assist with his injured woman.

“Keep doing CPR while we get her connected to the AED,” the one paramedic said.

He didn’t announce his profession as a cardiac surgeon. Right now, they were all doing their best to save the lives of these patients.

Glancing toward the rear of the bus, he noticed another pair of EMTs had come in through the rear door. They were assisting another patient that Maggie had been caring for. When they had the situation under control, Maggie moved back, cradling the little boy.

She looked at him expectantly, clearly hoping that the child’s mother would survive.

“Okay, stop CPR so we can do a rhythm check,” the paramedic said.

Aaron sat back on his heels, eyeing the monitor. The straight line across the screen was not good.

Asystole.

He had a bad feeling this woman had died on impact.

“Stay back,” the paramedic said. “I’ll deliver a shock in case this is fine V-fib.”

It wasn’t, but Aaron didn’t argue. Delivering a series of shocks might help. And if not, she would be just as dead.

Three shocks later, the straight line across the monitor was unchanged.

“Continue CPR,” the paramedic said.

“There’s no need. I’m Dr. Aaron Monroe, a cardiac surgeon with Children’s Memorial. I’m calling this code. We can document the time of death as ten forty-five a.m.”

The two paramedics looked at each other, then shrugged. “We’ll need you to sign the paperwork, Dr. Monroe,” the red-haired paramedic said. His name tag read Finnegan, and Aaron vaguely remembered meeting a Dr. Faye Finnegan. Possibly related, but no way to know for sure.

“No problem,” he assured him. He glanced over to where Maggie sat with the little boy on her lap. Her stricken expression stabbed deep.

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