Wishing for a Miracle Read Free

wellbeing of his colleague. Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?
    Stupidly—and so inappropriately it was easy to contain—Julia felt an odd tightness in her throat. A prickle behind her eyes that advertised embryonic tears. She dismissed them with a simple swallow. She didn’t need to go there. All she’d needed had been to hear his voice. To remind herself that she wasn’t doing this alone. That she had the best possible person in the world watching her back right now.
    â€˜I’m…inside,’ she relayed. ‘Climbing down.’ She moved as she spoke. Cautiously. Hanging onto the back of a seat frame as her feet found purchase on the cushioned back of the next seat down the vertical aisle. ‘How are those cables looking, mate?’
    â€˜Good,’ came the terse response. Mac was concentrating as hard as she was.
    â€˜These seats make quite a good ladder.’ Julia kepttalking because she wanted Mac to keep responding. She wanted to hear his voice. Maybe she needed to keep hearing it because it gave her more courage than she could ever otherwise summon.
    But when she was halfway down the aisle, the smell hit her. The smell of fear. And she could hear the voices and moans and she knew that within seconds she would be able to speak to and touch these unfortunate people. She could start doing the job she was trained to do and help those who had been plunged into a nightmare they couldn’t deal with alone.
    Julia felt the power that came with the knowledge that she could help and that power gave her complete focus. Knowing that Mac was close gave her strength, yes, but that was simply a platform now. This was it.
    Time to go to work.
    â€˜Who can hear me?’ she called, pausing briefly. ‘Keep still but raise your hand if you can.’
    She wanted to count. To find out how many were conscious enough to hear her and physically capable of any movement at all.
    One hand went up tentatively. And then there was another. And another. Six? No, seven. And dim patches where she could see the shape of people but no hands. The less injured people would have to be evacuated first to allow access to the others.
    The woman she’d earlier deemed close to hysteria was still sobbing. ‘Please…’ she called back. ‘Take Carla first. She’s only seven… Please !’
    Julia revised her count to eight. Carla was being clutched too tightly to have raised her hand.
    She climbed closer. The teenage boy with the injured arm was silent but she was close enough to see that his eyes were locked on her progress. Searching for her face. Silently pleading with as much passion as Carla’s mother.
    Julia had to tear her gaze away to try and reassess the number and condition of victims she would be dealing with. To triage the whole scene, but it was difficult. The light had faded even more outside now and it was much darker in here. The light on her helmet could only illuminate a patch at a time and it was like trying to put a mental jigsaw together.
    People were jumbled together. Right now it was impossible to see which limbs belonged to which person or even how many people were in the tangle.
    â€˜Get me out!’ A male voice from behind Carla and her mother was loud. ‘I can’t feel my legs. I need help.’
    Julia saw hands come over the seat back behind the still sobbing woman. Good grief, was the man trying to move himself despite possible spinal or neck injuries? Someone beside him groaned and then someone else screamed as the man’s frantic efforts created a shuffle of movement and made the carriage swing alarmingly.
    â€˜Stay absolutely still , and I mean everybody!’ Julia injected every ounce of authority she could into the command. ‘Listen to me,’ she continued, her tone softening a little. ‘I know you’re all scared but you’ve all been incredibly brave for a long time and I need you all to hang