Page 21 of Protecting the Flame

Chapter 2

“Will?”Emma’s heart kicked. Scuttling across the aisle, she put a hand on his. His skin was icy. “Will?”

“Is he awake?” Mattie asked.

“Getting there.” She hoped. She got right into his face. “Will, can you hear me?”

“Uhhh.”He stirred and then, as he pulled his head up, he sucked in a sharp, hard breath that came out in another panting groan. Sudden tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” Mattie demanded.

“I don’t know. Will, Will, what is it? Where are you hurt?” He was scaring her. Jesus, no, you can’t die. You can’t be hurt. You can’t! Hot panic bolted up her throat. She gripped his hands. “What is it?” Her frantic eyes darted to his face, his head, his chest. Was he bleeding, was something broken? “Where do you hur—” The word evaporated on her tongue.

“Emma?” Mattie called.

His parka was askew, the garment draped oddly as if arm of the hangar on which it hung had broken. But, of course, the equivalent of a hangar on a person was his shoulders.

Will’s shoulders were all wrong. Where the hump of his right shoulder should be, there was, instead, a steep drop-off. An odd bump poked midway between where his shoulder had been and the center of his chest.

“Dislocated.” Will forced the word between clenched teeth. Despite the chill, his forehead was beaded with sweat. “Can’t move it.”

“Can you fix it?” she asked and then wanted to kick herself. That was like asking if he could take out his appendix by looking in a mirror.

His head rolled back and forth on his headrest. “Not by myself.” He fixed his eyes, glazed with pain, on hers. “I’ll talk you through it. But how are you? I don’t like that cut over your eye. How’s your head? Are you hurt anywhere else?” Before she could answer, he asked, “What about Mattie?”

“I’m okay,” Mattie called. “My seat belt’s stuck, that’s all.”

“I have something in my pack we can use to cut you out. Won’t take but a jiffy. What about your chest, Mattie? Your stomach?” Will looked at Emma. “Did you check her?”

“No,” she said, a little stung as if he’d caught her in a mistake or falling down on the job. “I was worried about Rachel.”

“I told her to, Will,” Mattie called. “I’m okay, really. I’m cold, but I’m good.”

“Are you feeling sick?” Will persisted. “You going to throw up?”

“No, I told you, I’m fine. It’s my mom who’s hurt bad. You have to help my mom.”

“We’ll help her.” Panting, Will let his head fall back against his seat. “Emma will do it, and then we’ll get you out and fix me up, get a fire going or at least block off this wind.”

“What?” Emma asked. “Will, I don’t know what to do for Rachel.”

“Then it’s good I’m here. I’ll talk you through it. Emma, you have to. No choice. Now, tell me about her.” He listened, cheeks still moist with tears of pain, as she told him about the cut on Rachel’s scalp, the baby’s movements. “What about her pulse?”

“It was fast.” She couldn’t remember a number. Had she even bothered to count? “Is it because she’s lost a lot of blood?” That slick on her face and puddling on the floor sure looked like a lot.

“Maybe. Head wounds always bleed like stink. We’ll stop the bleeding first.”

“We?” A bad line from The Lone Ranger floated through her brain. “I’m not a doctor.”

“But you’re military. You know battlefield first aid, right? Hemostatic dressings?” When she nodded, he said, “Great. I’ve got a bunch of QuikClot in my pack. You should put some on that cut you’ve got, too.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“Then we get my arm into a sling, slap a couple splints around her neck to brace her spine, work her out of her seat, and lay her flat.”

There was that we again. “Will, your shoulder’s dislocated.”

“My left arm still works. Don’t worry, I’ll let you do most of the work. I’ll even let you superglue her wound.”

Superglue? “That is not funny.”

“Trust me when I say that, at the moment, I am completely incapable of humor.”

“Get me out, and I can help, too. And don’t tell me that you have to check me out first,” Mattie added. “You’re letting Emma move around and do all this stuff. You’re not yelling at her to lie down even though she’s cut and her chest hurts and it took forever for her to wake up.”

Despite everything, Emma felt her mouth curl into a grin. “She’s got you,” she said to Will.

“Of course, I do,” Mattie said, irritably. “Now, cut me out of this thing before we all freeze to death.”

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