Running The Edge: Chapter 18 - Typhoon

 

Chapter 18

Typhoon

0100 Hours

Station Umpqua River Lookout Tower

 

                Seaman Patterson tried to pierce through the gloom using binoculars, but to no avail. He scanned the weather station gauges which indicated the winds were steady at 60mph gusting to 75mph approaching typhoon strength. Outside, snapping violently in the wind, hurricane warning flags, double stacked red rectangular flags with a black square in the center, stood straight out. The large front window wobbled with each gust as the rain pelted against it in an unrelenting wash.

                The lookout tower became the eyes and ears of the station. Manned 24/7, they monitored emergency radio frequencies and when visibility allowed, they watched and logged with a decerning eye every crossing of the bar. There would be no crossings tonight.

                He opened the tide chart manual and discovered the outgoing tide was nearing its peak flow. “Wow. That bar has got to be busting its rear end.” He made an entry in the watch log book of the weather conditions and his observations to that effect.

                Standing next to the side window where he could see the lighthouse, he could see little beyond the front of the parking area yet the glow from the top cast a frail light across the compound. The radio crackled with a faint, but desperate voice barely audible. “Mayday, mayday…Coast Guard Station Umpqua River…Coast Guard Station Umpqua River this is the sailing vessel Marooned. Do you hear me? Over.”

                Patterson lifted the transceiver and pressed the transmit button. “Vessel Marooned, this is the Umpqua River Lookout Tower. Come back.”

                The desperate voice that followed was surrounded by the roar of the background storm. “Thank God…station we’re approximately twelve miles north of the bar and six miles out. We are floundering in this storm. Engine is dead and we’re taking on water. We have four souls onboard. Can you help us please?”

                Patterson jotted their position and time of call into the log book as he responded. “Vessel Marooned, acknowledged twelve miles north and six miles out. Standby one.” The direct phone line to the station comm room rang twice before Andrews answered. “I heard the transmission…standby.” Andrews activated the intercom system. “Light off the 331…standby duty crew to the outer office.”

Within seconds the entire contingent of crewmembers, both on duty and off clambered into the outer office. Andrews was on the phone with Chief Adams. “That’s right Chief, sailing vessel Marooned, north of us. Four people onboard. Red is off duty, Cunningham is sick, and Matthew is on leave. That leaves you. Already ahead of you…the 331 one is being lit off as we speak. Right away. I’ll call North Bend ASAP.”

Andrews punched another code into the comm system to connect to the North Bend Air Station directly. Three rings later the duty watch answered. “North Bend Air Station.”

                “Hey this is Andrews up here at Umpqua River. We just received a call from the sailing vessel Marooned. They are taking on water. Chief Adams thinks you guys might can get to them before we can. Their position is approximately twelve miles north and six miles west of our bar. That’s all the position they gave me.”

                Chief Adams stepped into the comm room and took the phone. “This is Chief Adams. Patch me in to Commander Reese.” A moment later a somewhat sleepy Commander Reese answered. “Chief, Reese here. What’s going on up there?”

                “Commander, we got another good one for you…” For the next two minutes Chief Adams explained the situation. The answer he received was what he expected.

                “Chief, we got you covered.”

Chief Adams surveyed the bar report and tide conditions. “See if you can locate Matthew and get him back in here.” Then he ran to the boathouse where the 331 was ready to go.

North Bend Air Station

                Ian Logan slid in next to Captain Michaels onboard the 1369.  Airman Pell secured the main cabin. Together they completed their preflight and the pilot revved the turbine, the blades spun faster and faster until with a tug on the collector, they lifted into the wind. “Station Umpqua River…CG1369 in route from North Bend.”

    

               -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                John Ackers, and his family were being toss around inside the cabin of Marooned. His wife Marge grabbed his arm, “John I’m scared.”

                “I know you are, so am I, but we have to remain calm. Marooned is a good boat, she’ll stay afloat until the Coast Guard finds us.”

                “How can they find us in this storm at night?”

                “I’ve activated the destress beacon so they can home in on us. They are the best in world and they will find us, that’s what they do.”

                He scanned around the room scanning the eyes of his children, a teenage son Luke and preteen daughter Suzy, who were huddled in the corner clinging to each other. Marge rolled next to them and the three huddled together.

                “The Coast Guard is on the way, when they get here it’s going to get busy. We will need to go topside and I don’t need to remind you to be careful out there. You two will go first. Michael, take care of your sister. Mom will follow, then I will. I’m counting on you to remain calm. We’re going to be okay.”

                Suzy started crying and Luke, doing as his dad asked, pulled her close.

Station Umpqua River

                Andrews acknowledged the transmission from the 1369. By this time Chief Adams, and the 44331 had entered into the bar area. The wind howled against the side of the coxswains flat whipping rain across the panel. The swells even this far inside the bar caused the 331 to snap roll and pitch in the chaotic menagerie of chocolate colored surf, with all the grace of a hippo tip toeing across an ice rink.  The Chief squinted to see forward, but it didn’t help. He flipped on the spot light and shined it toward the bar. What he saw sent slivers of ice penetrating through his spine. It was exploding.

                “Crap…” His crew looked at him with questioning eyes about the situation. “What do you think Chief. Maybe we should sit this one out and let North Bend handle it.”

                The radio crackled again. “Mayday, Mayday…this is the sailing vessel Marooned. Is anyone there. Please we need hel….” The signal was cut off, then crackled again, “Mayday, mayday…please answer, we’re sinking and we won’t last much longer.”

                Chief Adams, looked at his crew. “Does that answer your question?” He paused a few seconds. Took a deep breath. “Hang on, here we go.”

                “Marooned, Marooned, this is Coast Guard rescue boat CG44331. We have your signal and are underway…ETA in thirty minutes. Air rescue CG1369 is also in route.”

                “We’re barely hanging on…please hurry.”

                He slammed the throttles full forward and the hull of the 331 dug deep into the pitching black water. Fifty yards later they approached the first line of breakers the sight of which alarmed Chief Adams. He worked the throttles and spun the wheel to line up the bow with subconscious effort, and as the breaker crumbled in front of them, he powered the 331 over the top and through the foam. The force that hit them lifted the bow up at a sharp angle before gravity slammed them hard into the backside trough. The bow plunged into the surface throwing an avalanche of foam and water to either side.

                Their forward momentum momentarily halted, the 331 lunged, forward, against the onslaught. Facing the next level of breakers. Almost thirty feet high, the wall threatened to pulverize them, but Chief Adams slammed the throttles forward hard, spun the wheel and slid over the top again becoming airborne.

                The bow dropped triggering a weightless two seconds before it plunged into the trough. Tons of freezing water engulfed the bow and flooded the coxswains flat. The crew hung on with all of their strength, their weight pulling at the safety belts that held them in place threatening to rip them from their secured connections. Chief Adams lost his grip on the wheel, and the 331 spun violently to starboard. He frantically grabbed it, spinning it to port to turn the bow back into the next approaching breaker. His actions were too slow, and the breaker lifted them at an angle rolling them hard over into a 90-degree roll, partially capsizing them, rolling and shoving them sideways at the base of the breaker as the props lost their bite. The 331 finally slid under the remnants of the breaker, righted herself but carrying tons of extra water in her lower well, was sluggish to respond.

Chief Adams applied more power and more wheel, spinning just in time to ride over the next breaker which felt more like falling off the edge of a cliff. Their forward momentum purged the extra water through the self-bailing ports.

                One more breaker line lay ahead, then open water. He applied full throttle again trying to outrace the approaching breaker. It rose in front of them, but his timing was perfect on this one and they floated over the top before it broke tipping over the other side.

                Fifty yards more and they turned north into leviathan sea’s, on a bearing to intercept Marooned. Once clear of the breaker lines, he called Marooned. “Sailing Vessel Marooned…Sailing Vessel Marooned, this the Coast Guard rescue boat CG44331. Do you read over.”

                Three seconds later the radio crackled. “Coast Guard…yes we read. Please hurry…”

                He Replied. “We’re across the bar on our way.”

                A few seconds later the 1369 called. “CG44331…this the North Bend CG1369. Be advised we are maybe forty minutes out from the estimated drift position of Marooned. This headwind is really slowing us down. What is your ETA on site?”

                “Standby.” The Chief extracted the small chart from his survival suit inside pocket, opening it against the wheel. A quick glance at the calculated position of the Maroon and he had his answer.”

                “1369…331. Looks like we might get there about the same time as you. If they don’t sink first. they are going drift a long way south with this wind and seas.”

                “Roger that 331. We’ll see you on site,” Chief Adams whispered to himself. “I just hope we get there in time.”

                The crew settled in, bracing themselves against the full force of the typhoon winds and mammoth swells which now were rolling along at over twenty feet. The 331 rolled, pitched, and fought her way through the onslaught. Rising up and over, rolling to port then to starboard, to rise again and plunge behind each chaotic swell.

                 

Running The Edge: Chapter 17 - Kidnapped

 

Chapter 17

Kidnapped

 

                Sheriff Joe Tripp pulled his cruiser into the emergency parking area. By now the wind was kicking up to gale force propelling the rain sideways. Pulling his hat low, he turned his broad shoulder into the wind and trotted toward the entrance stopping just inside to shake off the excess moisture from his nearly soaked uniform. He saw Matt sitting on a bench along the edge of the hall just outside ER Room 1. He was leaning forward, face in hands.

                A few steps later he stopped across from him. “What happened Matt?”

                Matt sat up straight and took a deep breath. “Joe, I don’t know for sure. There was an explosion at The Shipwreck and a fire. Ruth somehow got injured.”

                “Bad?”

                “It’s bad.”

                “Did she say anything?”

                “Not much, I think she said Hoke, but I couldn’t quite make it out before she passed out.”

                Sheriff Joe pursed his lips and shook his head. “Hoke, figures. He and Nathan got into it earlier this evening and Ruth busted him over the back with that hickory stick she carries around and had him thrown out. Hoke threatened both of them…that stupid idiot, he’s caused me more grief than any ten men.”

                “You going to bring him in then?”

                “We’ll find him. Right now, I need some information.”

A moment later and sopping wet JP burst through the entrance and half ran over to where Matt and the Sheriff were standing. “I just found out…Ruth…she okay?”

                Both Sheriff Tripp and Matt shook their heads sideways.

                The entrance to the ER opened again. Sharon, carrying Nicki ran inside followed by waves of rain. Matt stood and closed the distance to them. “You shouldn’t be here, not with Nicki anyway.”

                “I know, but I couldn’t stay away. Any word about Ruth?”

               At that time Doctor Allan stepped into the hallway. The four of them cast a hopeful look in his direction, but he removed his surgical cap, and shook his head, ‘I’m sorry.”

                Sharon caught herself gasping in shock and Matt lowered his head shaking it from left to right. JP embraced Sharon together they both sobbed.

                “What’s wrong mommy?” Nicki asked with sad sleepy eyes.”

                Sharon knelt and held her close. Trembling and with a broken voice she tried to explain. “Oh honey. A good friend of Mr. Matt just passed away.”

                “That makes me sad.”

                “Me too, honey…me too.”

                Nicki walked over to Matt. “I’m sorry about your friend. Is she in Heaven now?”

                Matt dropped to one knee. “You’re very sweet but it’s way too late for you to be out, time you should be in bed.” Then he looked at Sharon, who took her by the hand and lifted her to carry.

                The entrance flew opened again. This time Nathan burst through in a half run. He ran up dripping wet to Sharon and Matt. “I just heard. She Okay?”

                Sharon somberly shook her head and Nathan rolled to one side holding in a series of curse words he wanted to express as he realized his good friend was gone. He ran his hands through his drenched hair clinching his teeth. “Hoke.”

                Sheriff Joe Tripp stepped over to Nathan. “Now hold on there, Poncho. Don’t being going off like you normally do. We don’t know if it was Hoke or not.”

                “It was him alright, I just know it.”

                “Well, we’re already looking for him, we’ll bring him in for questioning. In the meantime, don’t you go flying off the handle and do anything stupid to get yourself in trouble…you do have a tendency to do that. You let me handle Hoke.”

                Matt stood silent not wanting to provoke nor encourage Nathan.

                Sharon turned to her brother, “There’s nothing more you or any of us can do here tonight. Can you take us home? Please.”

                Sheriff Joe stepped in, “Take her home Nate. I have a few things to do here and Matt, I’ll need a statement from you before you leave. Won’t take but a few minutes.”

                Nate agreed. Sharon handed the Jeep keys back to Matt. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

                The acid eyes that glared from Hoke’s face could have burned a hole through steel. His truck parked, idling inside the darkest part of the alley across from the small series of apartments lining the street that angled off the main road two blocks away. White exhaust spewed from his truck, which were almost as toxic as his liquored breath. His every movement was strained. His every breath labored like after a hard run. He lifted another bottle of whiskey and downed three gulps in one take not stopping to wipe his mouth or chin. On a piece of stiff paper, he again spread the cocaine into a narrow line and inhaled it with a rapid breath through the nostril. He shook his head and blink his eyes hard. His breathing increased and he felt a surge of power growing within him. With another large gulp, he all but inhaled another drink from a new bottle.

               Two blocks away he could see the main road, little traffic passed at this hour except for the occasional county sheriff cruiser streaming by with its emergency lights flashing.  His face draped with rage as he lifted the bottle again. “That stupid little woman, I told her I’d get even.”

                Several minutes passed and he consumed more and more of the liquid courage. His mind raced, confused, tormented, grown paranoid with the cocaine surging through his body, his demonized world collapsing in around him as he sought a way to run away.  He lost control of his thoughts, his emotions surged with anger and despair. “They all hate me…they hate me.” He shouted to himself. “No one cares, no one.” Within his mind a contemptuous voice taunted him. “That’s right…no one cares about you…you don’t even care about yourself. They are going to lock you away and let you rot.”

                “I won’t let them.”

                “Of course not. You don’t have to. You can end this on your terms and what’s even better you can hurt them even more.”

                Hokes mind warped into a confused state not grasping what was real and what was imagined. It raced with thoughts flying at him like the rapid-fire rattle of a machine gun. He tried to dodge their accusations, but they struck him hard imbedding their condemnations deep into his tormented soul.

                “Fight them…fight back. Take them with you to the end,” the taunts continued. “That’s the only way you can hurt them and gain respect.”

                Hokes eyes glared forward, his chest rising and falling as his breathing increased in intensity as he absorbed the scoffs.

                “They are going to kill you. You have to fight back. You can defeat them by not allowing them to take your life from you…you must take it yourself.”

                He poured the last remaining cocaine powder onto the stiff paper and inhaled it. His mind exploded with paranoia yet was filled with a sense of power. His grasp of what life meant tumbled over the edge of a broken world, a world in which he had lost control barely hovering within the realm of reality. The mocking pushing him closer to the threshold, until he teetered at the precipice. His head spiraling out of control, he gave his will over to the taunts.

                A truck turned off the main road, it’s lights shining into Hokes eyes. He locked onto it recognizing the truck as Nathan’s. “Now you’ve got him,” the voice chided.

Nathan did not see Hoke’s truck as he pulled into the driveway to drop off Sharon and Nicki. Nicki was again asleep so he gently lifted her from the extended cab. “I’ll take her in for you.”

                Sharon unlocked the front door, and turned on the lamp just inside her small but neatly arranged apartment, the door remained open. Nathan gently laid Nicki on the couch.

                “Been a long day hasn’t it, sis.”

              “Yes, it has. I’m really tired. You can stay if you want.”

                “I better not. I’m exhausted. We both need a good nigh…”

                Before he could finish a vehicle skidded to a stop outside. Footsteps followed and invaded the front porch. She spun around the same time as Nathan to find Hoke blocking the opening. Sharon gasp and grabbed Nicki, who awoke with a whimper.

                Nathan instinctively lunged and tried to tackle Hoke. He was strong but Hoke, filled with hate and strength induced from the drugs, was huge and outweighed him by close to sixty pounds. The two collided but Hoke easily shoved Nathan to one side slamming him against the wall, knocking over the lamp. The room fell into a darkened half-light, her way out blocked by Hoke, Sharon ran with Nicki into the bedroom locking the door behind her.

                Hoke wrenched Nathan to his feet like a ragdoll, throwing a massive punch that collected against his face. He crumpled, stumbled backward, blood spewing from his mouth and nose. Stunned, he struggled to regain his senses. Out of fearful desperation, he lunged back at Hoke who caught him under the right arm swinging him around and to the ground rolling him against the couch that toppled over. Hoke kicked Nathan catching him in the side knocking the breath out of him. Nathan tried to stand, but Hoke threw another kick, then another, and finished with several wild punches to the face. Nathan fell down prostrate unable to respond.

                Sharon was frantic clinging to a now crying Nicki. “What’s happening mommy…why is that man fighting with uncle Nate?”

                “Hush now…Hush now.” She couldn’t think or clear her mind. She back away from the door toward the back corner.

                The door to the bedroom exploded inward, the lock having little effect in slowing it down. Hoke bolted in like a giant troll and grabbed Sharon by the back of her jacket and shoved her forward. She screamed and he slapped her hard causing her to stumble. She clung to Nicki through it all and pleaded with Hoke, “Stop Hoke, please.”

                He raised his hand to strike her again when he heard a siren turn the corner two blocks away. Sharon pulled away desperate for a way out, but there was none. She pleaded with her eyes.

Nicki cried more loudly. “Shut that kid up.” Then he grabbed her arm forcing both of them through the shattered door. She saw her brother on the floor, struggling to get up, and screamed “Nathan!”

                He crumpled again, unable to respond. Hoke shoved both Sharon and Nicki into his truck and slammed it into reverse, spinning his tires as he backed out, then spinning them even more when he sped off into the night in the opposite direction.

               A few seconds later, Sheriff Joe skidded his cruiser to a stop outside the apartment and ran inside to find Nathan trying to sit up. One of Sharon’s neighbors, an older lady, stepped inside and raised her hand to her mouth in fright.

                “Are you the one that called.”

                “Yes…oh my goodness, oh my goodness…”

                Sheriff Joe helped Nathan to his feet, “What happened here son?”

                “Hoke happened.” He struggled to speak as he spit blood onto the carpet, then he stood upright, “Sharon.” He stumbled into the bedroom then staggered out. “He’s taken them.”

                He tried to pass by Joe but was too woozy and stumbled forward with Joe catching him. “Hold on there, boy…Slow down. You aint fit to do anything.”

                Nathan pulled free and stepped away toward the door. “Hoke has lost his mind. He’s turned crazy. I’m okay. We have to find them…we have to find them.”

 

                 

               

 

               

 

Running The Edge: Chapter 16 - The Fire

 

Chapter 16

The Fire

 

                It had been a busy evening and Ruth was tired. Her crew finished up their cleaning duties as they prepared for the next day’s business, she tidied up the office after counting the receipts from the day and placed the funds and accounting reports into the safe. She bent low to spin the combination dial so it would lock. As she straightened, she arched her back trying to stretch out some of the stiffness.

                “I am getting too old for this. I’m bushed.”

                Her cook, a tall skinny man with a coarse face, knocked on the door and stuck his head inside, “All done Ruth. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

                “You bet Johnny. Thank you. I’ll be locking up in a few minutes.”

                Ruth continued to straighten her desk and collected her coat and umbrella along with the hickory cane that was so much a part of her life. The room grew dark when she shut off the light leaving a couple of small lamps glowing Inside the main dining room, casting a warm glow that floated across the tables and chairs and bar accenting the nautical artifacts that adorned the walls and ceiling. She stopped momentarily to look up to the photo of her late husband. With an affectionate sigh, she reached up to pat his face, then turned to leave.

                Stepping outside a wave of damp air blew through her partially open jacket and she hesitated for a moment as she tried to close an extra button near the top. She started to extract the keys to lock up when she heard some noise behind her. Startled, she awkwardly turned but before she could fully turn a massive hand grabbed her shoulder and threw her across the parking lot. She fell striking her head against the pavement. Before she could gather her wits, the same massive hand struck her across the face knocking her tiny body to the ground sending her cane and umbrella rolling. Stunned, she rolled to one side trying to rise up enough to spot her attacker. Three feet way lay her cane and she tried to reach for it, but a foot stepped on it locking it to the ground. Her vision blurred from the shock of the first blow and she again tried to see who was there. All she saw was a massive bulk of a man standing over her. “Hoke…” She struggled to get the words out. He bent low to pick up the cane and with one powerful swing struck her across the back of the head shattering her skull and breaking the hickory cane in two. She fell face first, silent and not moving.

                Hoke stood erect breathing heavily as he stood over Ruth. “Paid back in full.” He chided, then he turned toward the building and enter it carrying a large container of gasoline. He poured some of the fuel across the floor and tables, then ran a trail of liquid toward and out the door before tossing the gas can deep into room. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, then wiped his hands clean, struck a match and tossed it.

                 Matt and Sharon were sitting inside his Jeep overlooking the harbor. The harbor, set aglow with random, warm lights, presented a sense of calm. Some of the boats were lit from within while others floated like dormant monuments, dark and lifeless.

The thick overcast sky, as low as it hung, reflected much of the harbor light adding a softer, more subtle radiance that softened the otherwise shadowy outdoor arena. Nicki, covered with a light blanket, was asleep in the back strapped into a car seat. Her soft face seemed at peace with the world, her innocence a contrast to the recent turmoil surrounding both of their lives.

Hand in hand they talked about Sharon’s life overseas and how maybe someday she would return. She talked about Nicki’s life on the tropical island growing up in a different world than the one in which she now lived. She expressed her fear of how Nicki would be able adjust. She spoke about Doctor Alexander and his wife Alice and how they took care of her before Nicki was born and after. She held a deep-seated respect and parental love toward them and missed their kindness and genuine love.

                The evening seemed to float away until it was well past the time both of them should call it a day. Matt hoped it would never end, but knew it must. He turned to check on Nicki. She stirred only briefly, pulling the light blanket around her shoulders allowing a soft light to fall across her cherub face.

                “You’ve done a great job raising her. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

                “She is the one who lifted me, who provided all the joy to life.  I never imagined how special someone like her could become. She also reminded me of you.”

“Me, how so?”                 

“She can be gentle and loving, but also retains a rebellious heart, in a good way, full of adventure and curiosity.”

                “We should not have kept her out so late. Poor thing she must be exhausted.” Matt interjected as he continued to watch her rhythmic soft breathing, Sharon chuckled,             “She’s probably tougher than we are. She had to be, growing up with the village children. They were a rough and tumble bunch of kids.”

                Matt cast a simple smile. “Your friend Sandy seems nice.”

                “I really don’t know what I would have done without her. She’s the best. She loves Nicki and Nicki loves her. I’m going to miss her. She’s on her way back overseas.”

                “You were right about Nicki. I can’t imagine how much I’ve missed over the last few years. I am so sorry you had to face it all by yourself. I don’t know how to be a dad, but I promise I’ll do the…”

                His words were interrupted by a loud explosion and tremendous red flash that erupted behind them. They turned toward the sound and saw flames leaping across the sky illuminating the area around it.

                “That’s over by The Shipwreck.” Matt shouted.

Spinning the wheels of his Jeep as he rammed the gear shifter forward and punched the accelerator. He whipped through the parking area and screamed around the corner heading toward the burning building. When they arrived, the building was completely engulfed in flames, with orange appendages screaming out of several windows. Black smoke wafted into the night sky. To their right, near the edge of the parking area, some movement caught their attention. On the ground laying on her side was Ruth, badly beaten and bleeding. Matt Jumped from the Jeep and ran over, kneeling to the ground next to her.

                “Ruth…Ruth!”

                She just moaned and tried to open her eyes, moaned again and mumbled ”Hoooke no,” but Matt could barely hear her over the roar of the fire.

                He shouted at Sharon to find a phone and call 911, but lights were beginning to flicker inside other buildings and homes nearby with people starting to step outside. Another man wearing an overcoat ran over to where they were. “I’ve called 911. The fire department should be here any minute.”

                “Did you see anything?” Matt asked him.

                “No…no, I was in bed. The explosion woke me.”

                Matt nodded and held Ruth’s head off the cold and hard pavement. Her face was bruised with blood flowing from her nose and mouth. The back of her head felt wet, his hands covered in blood.

                “Stay with me Ruth. Help is on the way.”

                Sharon removed the scarf from around her neck and pressed it against the wound across the back of her head. She cast an anxious look into Matts eyes.

                “Looks bad…where is that ambulance?” Matt grumbled.

                Seconds later they heard a siren some distance off, then about thirty seconds later a fire truck turned the corner. A few seconds after that the Coast Guard station’s 4x4 truck pulled up and a crew of five piled out carrying fire extinguishers. Together with the firemen, they connected and extended water lines and began spraying down the building. Two more firetrucks arrived soon after, but it was too late. The Shipwreck was fated, turned into a blazing inferno no amount of water was going to extinguish in time. All they could do was prevent the flames from spreading to other buildings.

 One of the firemen knelt low to check on Ruth. “Keep pressure on that wound. Don’t move her to much until the paramedics arrive. They should be here any minute.” Just after those words another set of flashing lights turned the corner and the paramedics pulled up next to the fire trucks.

                “Over here.” Sharon frantically shouted and waved to get their attention.

Seconds later, the paramedics knelt to the ground and began to examine Ruth. Her face was ashen and there was no life in her expression. They checked her breathing and pulse and found none and so began CPR using a hand squeezed respirator to insure she was getting air.

                Another station vehicle arrived and Chief Adams stepped out then ran over to where Matt and Sharon were.

                “What happened here Matt?”

                “I don’t know Chief. We heard an explosion and saw the fire. Found Ruth laying here when we arrived. She’s hurt bad.”

                “Alright then, we’ll help the firefighters put out this fire. You stay with Ruth.”

                Matt nodded.

                The paramedics lifted her onto the wheeled stretcher and started to roll her toward the ambulance.

                “How can I help.” Matt asked as they lifted her through the back.

                “Crawl in with Mike, he can use your help while we transport her.”

                He turned to Sharon. “I have to go. Take Nicki home. I’ll call you when I know anything.”

                A few minutes later they pulled into the emergency entrance at the regional hospital where doctors and nurses were waiting for their arrival. Matt tried to help, but got in the way more than anything until one of the paramedics pulled him aside, “They’ve got her now. You can wait inside if you want to.”

                The hospital staff and the other paramedic rushed her through the opened entrance while Doctor Allan listened to the paramedic’s report, “No pulse, no respiration, been on the ventilator for about seven minutes. CPR applied from the scene until arrival here.”

                Doctor Allan shouted directions to his staff who, in an often, rehearsed choreography, slid Ruth into the first ER room with the door automatically closing behind them. Matt stood outside not knowing what to do. He tried to look inside, but could see nothing except chaotic movements. He walked toward the ER entrance where the flashing lights of the ambulance were still rotating, casting an erratic movement of painted, ghostly images back and forth through the opening. At the main desk one of the paramedics was talking to the receptionist, or nurse, he wasn’t sure, signing off on their delivery.

In the distance, lightning flash across the sky, a few moments later the muffled rumble of thunder reverberated into the building as a gust of wind found the tops of the trees lining the parking area provoking them to sway in time with the gusting air. The storm arrived with the change of tide.