Washed Away Read Free

with the brightest brains, the best equipment, the latest scientific techniques, there are no guarantees as to what she’s got up her sleeve.”
    “But it can’t hit here.” Cheryl’s voice was barely a whisper, her brain reeling at the possible consequences. “It just can’t. Everyone’s been moved to Turning Point to get away from the storm. If it comes here, if it hits the school…” Turning her head, she eyed the triage area she had set up. She had anticipated casualties coming in, and till now had felt prepared for any eventuality. But if the storm changed track and descended on Turning Point, then in a matter of hours this area would resemble a war zone—
    “I could be wrong.” Mitch broke in to her thoughts. “The experts all think I am.”
    “You’ve told them?” Cheryl asked. “You’ve told them your concerns?”
    “For all the good it did.”
    She could hear the bitter note in his voice.
    “I’ve lived here all my life. I know the land like the back of my hand, the shifts in the weather, the signs anyone who didn’t know the place would miss—but will those folks at the weather bureau listen to me?” He shook his head. “Look, Cheryl, it’s just a gut feeling at this stage, and I hope to God that I am wrong, but I have to admit I’m starting to get worried.”
    “So am I, then.” Cheryl might have known Mitch Kannon for only a few hours, but she’d been around emergency personnel long enough to recognize that he wasn’t the type to make a fuss unnecessarily. Mitch would have seen enough drama in his time without needing to invent it. “If you’re right—I mean, if the storm does change course and end up hitting Turning Point, what will we do?” She gave a low laugh that to nonemergency personnel would have seemed out of place, but a dash of black humor was par for the course in this line of work. “Is there a plan B you haven’t told us about?”
    “Plan B’s the same in Texas as it is in California, Cheryl. We just get on and deal with it.” Mitch gave a rueful smile. “That’s what we do best, isn’t it? Deal with the chaos life throws up every now and then, pick up the pieces no one was expecting to fall.”
    Cheryl nodded grimly, already thinking ahead. “We’ll need more blankets. I know they’re setting up hot drinks and sandwiches at the school hall, the casualties that arrive here with their families might be cold and shocked. Can somebody organize extra coffee urns, soup…”
    “I’ll get straight on it.”
    Cheryl nodded gratefully. “And tell whoever you send in to Dr. Holland’s room to grab whatever else they can, I’d rather have too much than too little. I’d better get back to stocking up now.”
    “You do that.” Mitch nodded, and as a fire truck pulled into the station, he replaced the cap on his thermos. “I’d better go see what’s up. It’s good to have you on board, Cheryl.”
    “It’s good to be here.”
    She set to work with renewed enthusiasm now. The triage area had been prepared to her liking. IV cannulas and swabs in kidney dishes, flasks of fluid hanging ready, neck collars, bandages, padding—everything was arranged to Cheryl’s liking, but Mitch’s ominous words had hit a note. Cheryl ran a couple of IVs through the lines so they would be ready as soon as a cannula was inserted into the patient. If the number of casualties was going to increase beyond her initial prediction, time would be of the essence. Cheryl knew she’d be grateful later for every second spent preparing for the victims now.
     
    “I’ VE GOT TWO GUYS heading over to Doc Holland’s office.” Mitch was back, running an approving eye over Cheryl’s emergency area. “How are you doing?”
    “Good. Everything’s ready,” Cheryl reported. “There’s really not much more I can do here until patients start to arrive. This area’s for the seriously injured. I’ve got all the emergency resuscitation equipment set up here. The walking wounded will