The driver’s gaze landed on Rylee. So she took a step forward and placed her hand on her heart. “Rylee Jones, I’m with WorldCares. We’ve come to help,” she said in Arabic.
“Yes, we saw the plane and came to tell you of the destruction on our compound that was wrought by the earthquake.”
“I’d like to hear. Shall we talk inside?” Rylee gestured to the hangar, and they all gathered in a circle, sitting on the cement floor. Quebec must already have the satellite connections up, because when Rylee pulled her computer from her backpack, she was able to access an intake portal.
“We have come because our people suffer,” the leader said.
“Can you show me where this is on the map?” Rylee pulled up her latest satellite image. And as the leader pointed to a spot, she zoomed in, looking up and down the dirt road with the crushed building. “This damage is from the earthquakes?” she asked.
“Yes.” The leader was staring at the image, and Rylee passed him the computer. “You can look around. It might give you a better idea about where to put your rescue efforts.”
When he handed the laptop back, Rylee put the coordinates into the computer program. “How many people are usually in this compound?”
“A hundred and three.”
“How many have been accounted for?”
“Fifty-seven.”
“Do you have dead?”
“Among the fifty-seven are three dead.”
“What are you doing with the bodies?” Rylee asked, and he didn’t respond. “Do you have cloth for shrouds?” Rylee knew there was a supply amongst the boxes.
“This, I have,” he said.
She continued down her list documenting the man’s responses to what resources they could access: water, food, and sanitation.
“This is very limited. Perhaps a day or two as our storage room was crushed and the wells caved in.”
“Do you have access to medical help? Bandages, ways to clean out wounds? Diapers for the babies?”
He did not.
“Do you understand that you should not just dig people from under the buildings because crush injuries kill?”
The crush injury question went unanswered, so Rylee pulled up a series of pictures to help her explain. The first picture showed a man with his legs trapped by a wall. “Listen, this is very important. A crush injury is life-threatening because all the toxins build up in the area that has no circulation.” She flipped to the next photo, showing the helpers applying tourniquets to both the man’s legs and then lifting the rocks. “If you release the injured body part from under the weight, all the toxins flow intothe body, and it can be deadly.” She turned to the next set of pictures showing the steps of applying a tourniquet. “You know how to tighten it down so there is no blood flowing?”
“Yes, I know this.”
“If you don’t have medical help on hand,” Rylee said, “the best you can do is tourniquet the limb and get them to the hospital as fast as possible. The longer you take, the more likely an amputation will be necessary to save that person’s life. As fast as possible.” She turned the page and showed a man writing in pen on the skin next to the applied tourniquet. “Make sure you write down the time that you put on the tourniquet right on the limb so the doctors will see and know what they can safely do. It’s very important.”
“You will send a medical person back with us,” the leader announced.
“We don’t have anyone like that. We have search dogs and shovels.”
“This is what we need. You must share your supplies with us.”
“I agree you need supplies. Our supplies are arriving on the train around lunch on Tuesday. We will have food, sanitation, and water to share. We will have medical supplies on the train. I know it’s a long time to wait. We are waiting, too. But everyone needs to be helped. You will come back on Tuesday with your trucks, and we will share what we have.”
The man glowered at her as if he didn’t believe her.
So Rylee pulled up a satellite connection to video call Mandy. Then Rylee handed her phone to the leader with a translator open.
“Mandy, here’s the situation.”
While Rylee and Mandy worked out what could be done with supplies, the leader’s combative stance hadn’t changed.
