Cold Fear Read Free Page A

light.
    Dammit.
    “Do something!” Cromwell grabbed her upper arm so hard she winced. She twisted out of his grip.
    “She’s gone, Duncan.” Cold fear raced through her mind as she looked at the dead girl. Her sister had been staying with the Cromwells last night. Frantically, she scanned the surrounding area. “Where’s Kit?”
    “I was going to ask you the same question,” Duncan said grimly. “Help me do CPR.”
    Izzy forced away the tears that wanted to form and found her professional armor. “Helena’s gone, Duncan. There’s nothing you can do.”
    “No.” He brushed her away and started once again to try to resuscitate his daughter. She met the gaze of the EMT who she recognized from the hospital, and silent communication passed between them. The guy had lost it and who could blame him. She moved to assess the other victim on the ground, a young man she recognized as Jesse Tyson, the police chief’s son. Blood matted his scalp, and his nose looked like it had been smashed. Unlike Helena, he was fully clothed. Beneath the trickles of blood, his skin was the blinding white of alabaster. She touched his neck but couldn’t find a pulse. His skin was soft, no sign of rigor. She frowned and pulled back his eyelids. His pupils were clear and responsive. She checked his airway, ripped open his shirt and palpated his chest. No penetrating injuries or bruising. Without proper equipment it was difficult to check for pneumothorax and haemothorax, but she did what she could. She undid his jeans and pressed her fingers into his groin, searching for a femoral pulse. All the time, she watched his chest for any sign that he was breathing.
    Did it move? Or was that the wind tugging his shirt?
    It was so cold out here, even she was shivering. Then his chest did move, just a fraction, evenly on both sides, she was certain of it. And the faintest pulse of blood stirred against her fingertips. She signaled the EMTs to bring over a stretcher. “He’s alive. Make sure his spine is stabilized before you move him. Cover him with all the blankets you’ve got in the rig.” Her brain buzzed as she recalled procedure and treatments for severe hypothermia. “Move him very gently because you can induce cardiac dysrhythmia if you jar him—go the long way around the dune.” She checked for fractures, but with this level of hypothermia the most important thing was getting the patient to the hospital as quickly and smoothly as possible. She dialed the ER. It was a fifteen-minute drive to the hospital. “You need to prepare for a patient with low GCS, apparent head injuries, and severe hypothermia.” They’d treat with warm mattresses, hot air blankets, heated IV fluids—but they had to take things slowly in a highly controlled environment. “He’ll need a full CT scan and general blood work. Call Chief Tyson to meet us at the hospital.” She hung up.
    “What about Helena?” Duncan called out angrily from his knees.
    Izzy stared at the guy. Tremors shook his body as he tried to rein in everything he was feeling. His eyes were frantic, skin pulled tight over his features as desperation drove him. Who could blame him?
    His daughter was her sister’s best friend. Responsibility weighed as heavy as a block of cement around her shoulders. What if she was wrong? What if Helena could be saved? She’d heard of miracles happening before, especially when severe hypothermia was involved. People weren’t dead until they were warm and dead.
    “Let’s take her, too.” She put her hand on his arm. “But, Duncan, don’t get your hopes up.”
    “Hope is all I’ve got left.” He flung off her touch and snarled before he ran to fetch another stretcher.
    She took out her phone and dialed her sister, each unanswered ring feeding her fear like wind stoking a wildfire. The joints in her fingers ached from her tight grip on the phone. Her jaw felt as if someone had wired the bones together.
    “S’up?” Kit answered groggily.
    The iron