“Great. Can you get it?” She kept pressure on the wound and managed to recline the boy’s seat to a supine position while the mother found the sleeping bag.
“Here it is.”
“Keep him warm,” she told the woman, then, noticing that she had started to shake, added, “Actually, why don’t you crawl under that sleeping bag with him?”
Moving on, she saw several people with minor injuries: a man with an obviously fractured arm, a woman with superficial abrasions on her face. They could wait.
The motorcycle cop who’d let her go earlier had cordoned off the accident site and was trying to clear a lane for the emergency vehicles, without much success. She saw him glance her way and nod. She nodded back, then tore off her soiled gloves and replaced them with a clean pair.
A male driver in his fifties moaned for help from his badly damaged Volvo. He’d managed to open his door and now he was crying, “Oh, my God. It hurts so bad. I know I’m going to die!”
Eyeing his pallor and noting the way he was clutching his left shoulder with his right hand, Jackie was immediately concerned. “Sir, I’m a nurse. Maybe I can help. Can you tell me what the problem is?”
“The pressure…” he gasped. “I can hardly breathe.”
“In your chest?”
He nodded.
“And your arm?”
He nodded again.
“Any history of heart disease, sir?”
“Yeah. I have angina. About five years ago I had a heart attack. It was just like this. Oh, God, I’m going to die this time, I know it.”
“Do you have your nitro spray?”
“In the glove compartment. I can’t—”
“That’s okay. I’ll get it.” She ran to the other door and quickly found the spray. “Here. Take this.”
He eagerly sprayed two shots under his tongue. Almost immediately he showed improvement. As an added precaution, Jackie gave him an aspirin to chew, then she flagged down an uninjured accident victim and asked her to sit with the man until the paramedics arrived. She scribbled quickly on a Post-It note from her kit and handed it to the quiet young woman.
“Give this to the paramedics when they arrive so they’ll know what I’ve done.” She patted the man’s hand reassuringly, then moved on again.
This time she could hear a woman calling for help. “Get me out of here! Get me out!”
She was in the front seat of a small two-door car and several people were trying to open one of the doors without success. Jackie rushed over.
When they saw her first-aid kit and the stethoscope strung around her neck, the group of people stepped aside to allow Jackie access to the driver’s side of the totaled vehicle. The damage to the car was so severe, it seemed impossible the woman inside could still be alive. But she was alive, and conscious, too, though frantic with fear, pain or probably both.
“My legs are trapped. I can’t move them!”
The woman was strapped in her seat and her air bag had deployed, saving her from massive head and neck injuries. But Jackie didn’t discount the possibility that there could be injury to the spinal cord.
“I know you must be in terrible pain, miss, but we’d better not move you until the paramedics show up. Can you wiggle your toes?” she asked hopefully.
“Nothing! Am I going to be paralyzed?”
She was good-looking, probably in her mid-twenties. “Perhaps you’ve lost feeling due to a lack of circulation,” Jackie said, offering hope. She glanced around at the crowd. “Anyone got any thick jackets, towels or blankets?”
“I have some towels. They’re a little damp…” A woman in a sundress, who’d obviously spent the day on the beach, offered two striped towels from a wicker bag.
“That’s fine.” Jackie took them gratefully and did her best to immobilize the young woman’s neck.
The reassuring sounds of sirens were all around them now. But how were the ambulances going to be able to transport these people to the hospital with any speed? The traffic snarl continued on both sides of the highway for as far as she could see. She wondered if her brother Nate was on duty today. Boy, she could sure use his help out here.
Jackie stood, pressing a hand firmly to the side of her neck where the muscles were throbbing now. She’d worked her way right up to the tractor-trailer unit. The driver seemed to be okay. He was upright in the sideways cab, free of his seat belt and talking to two men who’d emerged from their wrecked vehicles to give him a blast.
Over on the far left, she watched as the paramedics spilled from two ambulances. Jackie almost cried with relief when she saw her tall, dark-haired younger brother emerge from the first vehicle, dressed in his navy uniform.
“Nate!”
Somehow, above all the noise and commotion, he heard her. She saw him frown.
“Jackie? What the hell…?”
She wound her way through the maze of demolished cars and accident victims. “I was here when it happened, Nate. My car is probably totaled, but I’m fine.”
Her brother engulfed her in a hug and she winced at the pain that shot from her neck down her shoulder. She pulled away gently. “I’ve been around to most of the serious victims.” She told him about the bleeding boy who was in shock, the man who was almost for sure having a heart attack, the trapped young woman who couldn’t feel her legs.
“Good work, Jackie.” Nate patted her shoulder, already signaling the other paramedics where to go. She left her brother to do his job, thankful that he was here, though still concerned about the inevitable long transport times.
About to make her way back to her car, Jackie paused when she heard a faint wail. Unlike the cries and moans around her, this one was higher pitched and as steady as a stream of water from a faucet. The sound was unmistakable to anyone who’d heard it before.
A baby.
Jackie’s heart jammed up in her throat. The cry was coming from the other side of the tipped trailer. Dropping to her knees, she could see the front end of a station wagon that had been trapped under the collapsed rig. She tried calling out to the mother or father of the infant, but no one responded.
Sick fear momentarily froze her as she eyed the huge barrier that stood in her way. She had to get to that baby. But the vehicle was sandwiched between the overturned rig and the burned-out sedan.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up with disbelief. It was the motorcycle cop. He’d removed his helmet and his light brown hair was damp with sweat.
Their eyes met with common understanding. He’d heard the cries, too.
“You a doctor?”
“Nurse.”
He paused, then nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s help that kid.” He laced his fingers and, without a second thought, she placed her sandaled foot on the perch.
“One, two, three…” He heaved as she reached up and soon she was standing on what had once been the side of the trailer. She scrambled quickly across it, the metal hard on her bare knees. The cop followed. He was right next to her when she finally spotted the remains of the trapped vehicle. The front half was completely crushed under the back end of the trailer. In the rear seat, she could see the outline of an infant carrier.
“Shit.”
She shared the cop’s opinion.