Solemn Oath (37 page)

Other staff members scurried out of the hospital helping patients, pushing some in wheelchairs and on beds, heading toward Mercy's office. She'd better prepare for a deluge.

And then she saw a car pull up alongside the curb in front. A redheaded man climbed from the driver's side and ran around to the trunk to pull out a folded wheelchair. Arthur and Alma Collins.

“Thank You, God,” Mercy whispered as they hurried up the walk to join the throng headed to her door. “I owe You one.”

 

Lukas barely heard the thunder of the chopper overhead before it landed, the noise and confusion were so thick on
the ground. The fire chief had taken position in the center of the crowd of rescuers and was giving orders over a bullhorn to all of the firefighters and anyone else who would listen. The landing pad had been left clear, and several cries and shouts accompanied the whoosh of air from the rotating blades as the huge flyer landed. Lukas and Lauren bent over to shield their patient, waited for the blades to slow and stop and turned to help the flight team transfer Mr. Weston.

“Looks like you've got a bad situation here, Doc,” the flight nurse shouted over the din. “You going to need us to call you any more help?”

“Yes. We have thirty patients from the floor and more from E.R. who'll need medical attention.”

The nurse nodded and turned to load Mr. Weston into the chopper.

As they lifted with a rush of wind and a roar, Lukas heard a shout. He turned to see two more firemen come running from the building. One of them was Buck, his scrubs torn and covered with soot.

“Dr. Bower, we need your help.” Blood dripped from a cut in his arm, and he wiped it on his side. “We've found Mrs. Pinkley and Bailey Little trapped in her office. They're hurt.”

“How badly?”

“Rescue workers are getting Mrs. Pinkley out. She was knocked out, but she's conscious now and in pain. It looks like she might have cracked some ribs, maybe a broken leg and arm.” He barely paused to catch his breath. “Bailey Little is trapped between the wall and the blown floor. He's unconscious and looks like he needs a needle decompression. I don't think we can free him soon enough to do it out here.”

Lukas turned to grab the supplies he needed from the crash cart they had been using for Mr. Weston. “I'll come with you.”

Buck laid a hand on his shoulder. “Dr. Bower, we're
afraid the respiratory department is compromised. We've already had two explosions. If there's another one, the oxygen reservoirs could blow. This is dangerous.”

“Then let's hurry.”

 

Frightened patients and frantic nurses and techs scrambled for room in Mercy's clinic. The count had gone up to twenty-five patients, and more made their way down the street. All the beds and cots and chairs were full, and several people lay on the floor. Some moaned, some were silent with fear as the workers rushed to give aid and reassurance, their own voices frightened.

“Most of the hospital still has electricity, and the sprinklers are working in the patient rooms,” someone informed Mercy as they walked by. “The firefighters are worried about that whole wing, though. That's where the explosions hit. They think they came from down in maintenance.”

Arthur Collins knelt on the floor, helping calm a woman having a panic attack, and his prayers were proving fruitful as the woman's breathing slowed. Alma sat in her wheelchair holding Lindy Cuendet's hand beside the cot where Abby lay, still pale but awake and mumbling incoherent words. Dr. Wong had gone back to help with the rescue effort in the main part of the hospital, which was undamaged. Ninety-year-old Mrs. Robinson from down the street had brought some cookies she had baked yesterday and was passing them around to the children.

Lauren McCaffrey came bursting into the office, her face flushed, eyes wide with fear. “Mrs. Pinkley and Bailey Little are hurt. Dr. Mercy, Dr. Bower's gone back inside, and they're afraid there will be another explosion.”

Mercy gasped and ran to the window as the door opened again and more people stumbled into the clinic. Past the crowds of firefighters and exiled patients, she saw the flash of royal blue—Lukas in his scrubs. He spoke for a moment
with Buck, then nodded and went back through the opening of the shattered E.R. doors.

“No!” She watched in horror. “Lukas, no!”

 

Lukas followed Buck's broad shoulders through the gloom and destruction of the room he had left moments earlier. He was astonished to find large chunks of ceiling tile and plaster littering the floor and furniture. Tables, chairs and cots lay overturned beneath the wreckage.

“Watch your step, Doc,” Buck called over his shoulder. “The guys tried to clear a path, but we can't take for granted that anything's stable.”

Breathing shallowly through the thick pall of smoke and ash, Lukas stepped over a fallen cot. “Where's the smoke coming from? Is there still a fire in the building?”

“I think it's all contained except for the hallway outside respiratory therapy.” Buck led the way to the stairwell and opened the fire door, then looked back at Lukas. “Let's just hope it doesn't reach those oxygen tanks, or we'll go up with the rest of this wing.”

“Thanks, Buck, you're a natural encourager,” Lukas muttered. For a moment—just one stress-filled moment—Lukas found himself remembering Kyle's words about Buck less than an hour ago. Was he hoping to be a hero again? What measures was he willing to take to get there? And if these explosions were arson…No, he couldn't think like that.

The inside of Lukas's nose felt as if it was coated with smoke and plaster dust by the time they reached the second floor. Then Buck opened the second fire door, and they stepped into a different world. Here they found little damage as they made their way down the hall. The carpet had been tracked with black soot from the feet of firefighters and other rescue workers, but the lights still burned from aux
iliary power, computers still blinked, telephones still rang—there was just no one there to answer them.

Two soot-smeared uniformed rescuers wearing heavy fire-resistant jackets rushed out of the administration suite into the hallway with a stretcher carrying Estelle Pinkley. They had encapsulated her in full c-spine immobilization, and she could not move her head, but her eyes were alert. Blood and soot streaked the side of her face. She caught sight of Lukas and groaned, closing her eyes momentarily against the pain.

Lukas rushed to her side. “Estelle, can you talk? Where do you hurt?”

She tried to reach toward him, but her bleeding hand fell back to her side. “Get everybody out of here, Lukas. Take care of the hospital…and take care of Bailey. He's hurt.”

She was talking, so her airway was probably out of danger. Lukas leaned forward to check for breath sounds and reached for a radial pulse, but the men moved on past.

“Sorry, we can't stay for a check,” the front carrier told him as they took Estelle out of reach. “We've got to get her out.”

“And get yourself out, Lukas!” she called back to him. “It's dangerous here!”

“Come on, Doc, we've got to hurry.” Buck led the way into Mrs. Pinkley's private office. “The floor partially collapsed here, because it's situated directly above RT and E.R., which are above maintenance, where we believe the blasts took place. Watch it here, Dr. Bower. As I said, nothing's stable. We think the first blast took out the main power, and then the second blast apparently took out the auxiliary power for the E.R. The rest of the hospital retained power even when you lost yours because the backup generators for them are in separate areas.”

Lukas paused at the entrance and stared around the administration suite. The floor slanted crazily toward the
inside wall, and shards of glass riddled the carpet and furniture from the shattered plate-glass window. Two rescue workers huddled beside Bailey Little in the corner, attempting to free his legs from a prison of steel and mortar.

“He's barely responsive,” one of the men called from the floor. “We're trying to get him out, but he's not going to last much longer at this rate.”

More of the ceiling crumbled onto them as they worked, scattering powdered plaster over their heads and shoulders.

Lukas stepped forward, but when he reached the end of the upturned desk, the floor buckled further. He froze in position.

“Careful!” Buck called. “I told you that floor's not solid.”

“Then somebody trade places with me for a moment so I can do a decompression,” Lukas said. “Or you won't have a patient to rescue.”

One of the men stood and took slow, careful steps toward Lukas. “Okay, Doc, switch places with me and make it quick. I don't know how much time we've got.”

Lukas followed his orders. His feet slid on the crazily angled carpet, but he reached out and took another fireman's outstretched hand for support. He knelt beside Bailey's silent white form. At least the body wasn't blue yet.

Lukas pulled off Bailey's tie and popped the buttons to loosen the shirt and expose the chest. He pulled his stethoscope from his pocket and bent to listen to the side of Bailey's neck. He heard slight air exchange. There was no tracheal deviation. Good, that meant no tension pneumothorax. Next he felt for a pulse at the neck. It was there, but weak. Breath sounds were fast and a little shallow from shock. No telling how much blood the patient had lost.

“Doc, hurry!” Buck shouted. “That wall could give at any time.”

The heart sounds were muffled. Reflexively, Lukas double-checked the right side of the neck. It was not distended as he would expect, but Bailey had two out of three
clinical signs: there was probably a collection of blood in the sac that surrounded the heart, secondary to trauma, which kept the heart from pumping. Cardiac tamponade. Lukas had to drain it.

The floor shook, and Buck shouted. Lukas caught his breath and braced himself against the wall.
God, let me be right. Help! I could kill this man with one stick of the needle! And if I don't hurry, we could all be killed
.

T
hree more physicians had come to the clinic in response to the calls, and the patients were being treated, transferred, and some of them released. Loretta had come in moments ago to take over coordination detail at the front desk. Tedi sat beside her friend, Abby, and held Lindy Cuendet's hand while Jason Cuendet paced and asked everyone who came in what was going on outside. Jason and Lindy were not speaking to each other.

Mercy knelt beside Alma Collins's wheelchair, fingers linked together so tightly they turned white, tears of frantic petition streaking her face. Her own internal dialogue of “Please, God, please, God, please” mingled with Alma's calm words and rich accent.

“And, Lord, we know You have all power, and that You care for Your children in every way, and so we ask You to please take care of Dr. Lukas right now and see him safely out of the danger. Guide his steps and give him Your healin' touch. Please help us care for these hurtin' people in this place and show us the best way to comfort them.” There was a pause, a slight hesitation as the raucous noise of the cries and sirens and shouts threatened to invade the curious peace of Alma's words. But then she spoke again as her arm came around Mercy's shoul
ders. “And, Lord, touch this child here with Your healin' love, too. Touch her spirit and her heart and shower her with Your peace.” The arm squeezed firmly. “Amen.”

Then, as the tumult once more invaded, somehow Mercy felt anchored, at least for a moment, carried away by something more powerful than her fear. God's healing love…that was it. The sudden knowledge of it touched her with wonder. She'd never considered it before, but as a doctor it should have been obvious. Why hadn't she seen it? Many times she had to cause pain to her patients during treatment. A shot of antibiotics could burn like fire, but the long-term healing gave long-lasting relief. Was that what God had been doing with her?

But as she considered the possibilities, the sounds of the sirens outside and the noisy, frightened chatter inside came crashing through that temporary oasis once more. As it did so, she found herself wishing for a more permanent peace.

“Mom!” Tedi shouted, pointing out the window. “There's Dad.”

Mercy pushed herself up from her knees as Theo shoved open the door and raced inside, eyes wide with fear, face dripping with perspiration, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He caught sight of Tedi and stopped. “Thank God,” he breathed, rushing forward. Tedi stood to meet him, and he grabbed her in his arms and swung her off her feet. “Thank God!” He held her for a long moment, chin resting on the top of her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut, then he set her down gently. “Your mother? Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Sure, Dad, she's right over there.” Tedi pointed.

Theo swung around and caught sight of Mercy and dropped his arms to his sides, still breathing heavily. “Mercy, thank you for calling me about Tedi.” He paused for breath. “I know you said she'd be okay, but then a customer came into the shop and told us about the explo
sion. You wouldn't believe what was going through my mind. I just started running.” He glanced out the window and across the street. “Are there more people in there? Do they need help?”

“There are more. They haven't completed the evacuation,” Mercy said, trying to keep the quiver from her voice.

“Lukas is in there, Dad,” Tedi said softly.

At those words, Mercy felt the panic rising within her again. Fear for Lukas held her captive, and she was no good to anyone like this. Her daughter needed her. Her patients needed her.

Theo stepped over and placed a hand on her arm. “I'll go check on him, Mercy.” He turned and rushed back out the door.

Mercy felt the tears in her eyes once again.

 

Lukas pulled the syringe from his pocket and one of the two needles he had brought with him. He attached the six-inch needle to the closed syringe and leaned over Bailey's chest. Pressing the needle against the left side just under the breastbone, he pointed the tip toward the heart and slowly advanced the needle as he pulled back the plunger on the syringe. The needle was about four inches in when blood spurted into the tube.

A voice shouted from out in the hallway. “Buck! Get everybody out of there. The oxygen is going to go!”

The floor shifted again, and the desk lurched toward them. The firemen braced against the wall, and Lukas scrambled to hold the needle in place. He pulled back on the syringe until it stopped flowing easily. Bailey moaned.

“That did it!” one of the men shouted. “We've got his legs free. Doctor, get back. Come on, we've got to get out of here.”

Lukas took two seconds to pull out the needle, then scrambled backward as two of the firemen rushed to extricate Bailey. He leaned against the desk and let them go first.
They were through the doorway and out in the hall when Bailey moaned again. It was a good sign. At least he was conscious enough to—

A cannon crash blasted through the room with sudden force that knocked Lukas sideways. The blow blinded him as the floor dropped from beneath his feet. He reached out for something to stop his fall and felt the grip of a hand on his arm, struggling to pull him out of the collapsing debris. He reached out with the other hand and kicked upward as the floor continued to collapse.

“Hang on, Doc!” came Buck's voice through the tumult.

The floor buckled again, but Buck grabbed with his other hand, too. He did not release his grip. “I've got you, Doc!” But he slipped, too. The whole floor gave way beneath both of them. The scream of metal and the rumble of concrete followed Lukas and Buck down into suffocating darkness.

 

Mercy's cry of anguish merged and blended with the others as fire and black smoke billowed into the sky with the impact of a bomb. The entire end of the west wing seemed to erupt and crash into the lawn of Knolls Community Hospital in crumbling concrete and twisted rebar. Fire jutted angry fingers into the sky, and the firefighters attacked the flames with bursts of water.

“Mom!” Tedi screamed from across the waiting room. “Dad's in there!” She jumped up from Abby's side and pushed her way through the people, her eyes wide with terror. “Dad and Lukas are both in there!”

Mercy couldn't speak. Her first instinct was to run into the building and find them herself. Those rescue workers didn't know the hospital the way she did. But she couldn't leave her daughter here alone. She grabbed Tedi close and held tight. She couldn't think, could barely breathe. She couldn't bear to look at the destruction, but she couldn't look away. Lukas was in there. And Theo. And others had still not made it safely out.

As she watched, two firemen came running out of a door from the main building, carrying a man between them with broken and bleeding legs. Bailey…? It looked like Bailey Little. Wasn't that who Lukas was going in to rescue?

“Mom?” Tedi's fingers dug into the flesh of Mercy's shoulders.

Mercy turned to find those trusting eyes seeking hers for reassurance. But she couldn't give it.

Alma wheeled over beside them. She reached out and drew them toward her, and for a moment she just held them close.

 

The shock of the explosion knocked Theo against the wall of the broad hallway on the first floor of the main hospital building. The pain in his shoulder knocked him breathless for a few seconds. He braced himself for a wave of heat and fire, but nothing came. He could smell smoke, but the fire walls and doors were apparently still working between the main building and the E.R. and outpatient departments. He continued his trek more swiftly now.

Theo knew this hospital well. Mercy's father's old office was just up this corridor…and there was a back way into the E.R., a narrow concrete hallway near the front of the wing that had been closed off when they remodeled this section five and a half years ago. If he could get into the reinforced stairwell from there…He heard shouts coming from somewhere behind him. He hurried faster.

While rescue workers and firefighters scoured the hallways in search of more people to evacuate, Theo avoided them and slipped through the deserted cafeteria and kitchen and into the cardiac rehab unit. If a firefighter saw him, he would be evacuated with the rest.

The scent of smoke was heavier here, but not overwhelming. Part of one outer wall had crumbled enough to allow light in from outside, and Theo knew there would
be worse to come. He had to keep trying. Lukas had saved his life.

He reached the staff entrance into Mercy's father's old office. Amazingly, there was power here, and he could see to push past the debris. The smoke thickened further as he entered the hallway between Radiology and the E.R. A whole wall had fallen across the entrance, and he stopped, frustrated. He was so close! This was where the power ended, but battery-pack floodlights, plugged into a couple of the remaining electrical sockets, continued to give light.

He turned to backtrack and find another way in, but a faint sound stopped him. He paused and listened. Was it the firefighters shouting in the distance? The crackle of flames?

 

Lukas choked and gagged on the smoke that surrounded him, and he felt the singeing heat and heard the popping, snapping bite of fire.

Someone grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. “Doc, are you okay? I need your help,” came Buck's firm voice. “We've got to find a way out of here. We've got to bust this wall down if we can.”

Lukas turned to find Buck kneeling beside him, the broad planes of his face lit by the orange glow of a curtain of fire. They were trapped against the wall in an area about the size of an E.R. exam room. And they were in the supply room. The worst possible place to be in a fire.

Lord, save us! Help us out of here!

“Stay down as low as you can,” Buck said. “There's a draft behind the fire that seems to be taking care of most of the smoke. Probably means there's been a natural chimney created by one of the explosions, which is good for us. But that can change.”

Lukas coughed again, glad there was no more smoke than this. His throat burned as he listened to Buck's calm, professional voice and tried not to panic. But how could he
not panic? They were trapped in an inferno, surrounded by combustible linens and cotton balls and gauze. He knew this wall behind them was a fire wall. Brick beneath the Sheetrock. Solid. Even Buck couldn't break his way through that.

Buck reached toward the edge of the fire for a large cylindrical oxygen tank, and Lukas stiffened. Then he relaxed. They'd used that tank this morning. It was empty.

“Help me, Doc. Maybe we can use this as a ram against the wall.”

Lukas crawled over beside Buck to help him lift the tank, and that was when he saw Buck's left arm. Something had gouged a deep gash through the flesh and into the muscle.

“Buck, you're hurt.”

Buck grunted with pain as he tried to lift the tank with both arms. “Can't do anything about it right now. Help me!”

Together they heaved the tank up above their heads and slammed it at the wall behind them with all their might. The force of the impact jarred Lukas's hands and arms, and he heard Buck groan. Painted Sheetrock powdered and dropped onto their heads and shoulders.

“Again,” Buck said.

And they tried again and again as Buck's arm bled and they choked on the smoke. As the fire continued to rage, Lukas sent up constant, silent prayers to God. The wall would not give way.

 

Theodore heard the sounds on the other side of the wall. He'd tried to get their attention, but they were making too much noise. For a moment he was torn. Would he have time to run back outside and alert the rescuers?

And what if he was too late?

He turned to look around the radiology department. He knew these machines. Was there anything heavy enough for him to use as a battering ram against this side of the wall? If they came at the brick from both sides, would it collapse?

And then in the glow of the battery-pack floodlight, Theo saw what he needed. A huge portable X-ray machine, battery powered, that must weigh half a ton—at least that was what it had felt like years ago when one of the techs had let him push it. It worked along the same lines as a self-propelled lawn mower, but would it be powered up? He rushed over and tried the switch.

The motor started. He grabbed the handles and guided it forward. He would have to get a running start, but he could do this.

 

“Got some verses for you two.” Alma's calming voice seemed to float across the waiting room, affecting not only Mercy and Tedi, but the others, as well. “In the Bible, King David wrote in his psalms, ‘What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee.' He's talkin' to God, because at times like this, God's the only one who knows what's goin' on. But you've got to believe that He will do what's right, no matter what.” She put a hand on Mercy's arm. “Do you believe that, honey? Hasn't He answered a lot of prayers lately? Didn't you tell us yourself that you think God's been workin'?”

Mercy nodded, her gaze still trained on the rubble of the west wing. Her heart clung more and more desperately to Alma's words. They were the only message that made sense, that gave any hope, and she had to accept them as her own.