On her rounds, a nurse opened the door to check on her. Flames exploded out at her, enveloping and consuming her, growing in their destructive fury as they ignited the ceilings and traveled along the cock loft and into the adjoining rooms.
Kodi Bush felt the explosion rock the building. Ceiling tiles from the fourth floor fell. He grabbed a phone at the desk and dialed the emergency number he had committed to memory, but the call didn’t go through.
Fire alarms sounded, and the employees of the perpetually short-staffed facility began a mad dash to evacuate the building. The bright orange sky took on a macabre appearance, mixing with choking black smoke. Flames tinted the humidity-laden clouds.
The New Orleans Fire Department arrived quickly, and water flowed rapidly. Men and women ran into the flames to rescue patients. Stretchers and beds lined up in the parking lot.
* * *
Out of thecorner of his eye, Kip caught a bunch of rocket flashes in the distance. “Fireworks?”
His colleagues all moved with him to the window to try to figure out what they were looking at. Mia Donnelly ran into the room. “Kip, I picked up multiple alarms going out. Sommerstone Manor suffered an explosion.”
“Mia, mobilize all medical personnel, six level-two teams and their support. Four level-three teams and Crescent 1 and Crescent 4 to the scene. Tac up, folks.” Kip ran into his bathroom and yanked a tactical uniform from the closet.
As he undressed, his phone went off. “Operator in need of assistance.” The call was followed by Bruce’s ID and location.
Kip called, hoping his friend would answer. “Hey, bro,” Bruce coughed.
“Sit-rep.” Kip walked toward the door.
“Four North exploded. Kip, it looks like white phosphorus. Emma Prejean and Kodi Bush are not answering. He got me samples. I’m putting them in my trunk, then I’m going back in. It’s going up like kindling. Water isn’t going to cut it; they’re gonna need sand to smother. There are going to be a lot of casualties.”
“Damn it, Bean. Don’t,” Kip pleaded, knowing his friend wouldn’t listen.
* * *
“Look at this.”Harper pointed to her email on the screen. “Why didn’t he tell us?” she screeched.
“Harp, he’s in charge of a business. That’s how it works. He didn’t wake up and say,I’m going to keep this from Harper. That’s not the kind of guy who was okay doing what he did to help that woman. And, look at it this way, you can get away from the Sommerstones for good. This Dr. Montgomery saw how capable you are.”
“All I want to do is go to bed. It says the sale goes through on Monday. I can see how things go.” She hugged Chantal and walked toward her bedroom.
Before she took her third step, her phone rang. “Oh, god. Yeah.”
Chantal approached her. “What’s wrong?”
“Sommerstone Manor is on fire,” her voice rose, the fatigue lifting.
“Oh my god, all those patients!” Chantal rubbed her belly as she began to hyperventilate.
“Channy, please calm down. Sit and raise your feet; I’ll be fine.” Harper hugged her.
Chapter 13
Word was spreading through the floors of the hospital. The ER was doing its best to empty their beds as the injured poured in. They were told a hospital tent was being set up in the Manor’s parking lot to initiate treatment and provide transport to appropriate facilities. When Harper arrived, as a critical care nurse, she was directed to the main entrance, where she was transported to the fire scene.
Choking smoke saturated the air. Fire was shooting out the roof and the third- and fourth-floor windows of the old building. As she and a group of residents and other nurses headed toward an enormous tent, she heard scared voices. Stretchers and wheelchairs were filled with blanket-wrapped elderly patients awaiting transport.
Mason Gerard, a nurse she knew from the hospital, and Brigitte Mone joined her. “Do we know who’s in charge?” Harper took in the chaos.
Brigitte seemed consumed with two firefighters sitting on a curb drinking water, their turnout coats off and their muscular physiques visible.
“I see nothing’s changed, huh, Brigitte?”
“Whatever,” she said.
“We better get inside.” Harper looked around. Staff from the Manor in sooty uniforms were still taking care of their patients. She wondered how many died from short staffing.
