It was impulsive, out of character, and crossing a line, but he pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her cheek, feeling how cold she was. “You’re not dying on me. Okay? I need you to live.” He should have simply stopped at, I need you, by the way his heart pounded in his chest.
Damn. He really cared about her. More than he’d let himself admit or feel until now.
He dug into his pack and found the Mylar blanket, unwrapping it and spreading it over her, worried it wouldn’t be enough to bring her body temperature up. He took her temp with a digital thermometer. Ninety-five. Too low. Knowing she’d last been seen Saturday night, he figured she’d been out here in the elements for nearly three days.
Fuck!
She was very close to dying. She needed fluids, heat, and a hospital. Not to mention he needed to stabilize any injuries she had from coming down the twenty-something foot drop from above.
He pulled out a saline bag and IV line. It only took him a minute to set it up and hook the bag above her on a tree limb. It took a hell of a lot longer to find a vein. He couldn’t get to the inside of her arms, so he went through one in her hand. Took him three tries to find a good vein because of her dehydration. He squeezed the bag to get it going, hoping he wasn’t too late.
He pulled out his stethoscope and listened to her heart through her back. Slow. Thready. Not good. He needed a helicopter evac if he was going to save her.
He leaned down close to her ear. “The fluids are going to help. I have to go make that call.”
“Stay. Dying.”
“No. You’re not. You’re going to fight. Promise me.” A tear dropped onto her cheek. He hadn’t even realized it slipped downhis face. “Please, Lucky. Don’t give up. Not now when you’re so close to being saved.”
“Promise. Try.”
“That’s my girl. Hold on. I’ll be as fast as I can. A few minutes. Okay. Hold on.” He didn’t waste any more time and slid down the embankment he was on, hitting the trail at a dead run. He had to go back about half a mile to reach higher, open ground. His phone chirped with several incoming messages. He ignored them all and hit the speed dial for the SAR office.
The second Randy picked up, he started issuing orders. “I need the chopper up in the air immediately. I have a woman, twenty-four, hypothermic, stabbed through the right shoulder with a tree root, head and body injuries from a fall of about twenty to twenty-five feet down a hill. She’s been out in the elements for approximately three days. Lucky Sinclair went missing as far back as possibly Saturday night. She’s naked. Possible rape and dump.” Those words coming out of his mouth about her nearly sent him to his knees. “I’ve got fluids started. I need to get back to tend to her wounds. I’m dropping you a pin now for my location, though she’s north of me by half a mile on the hiking trail.”
“Got it. I’ll assemble the team and notify the sheriff’s office. We’ll be ready to airlift her out as soon as she’s stable.”
He hoped she wasn’t dead by the time he got back to her.
“Hurry. There’s no time to waste on this one. She’s critical.” He hung up and started running again. He’d never pushed himself so hard or so fast, but for her, where every second counted, he wouldn’t quit. Not until she was safe and healthy again.
He climbed back up to her, relieved to see the metallic space blanket rise and fall as she breathed. “I’m back. The cavalry is on the way.” He hunched down next to her again and started assessing her critically, starting with her head wounds. Hefound two large bumps, one with a laceration. He cleaned and bandaged it, then moved on to her neck.
She was lying at an odd angle.
“Lucky. Does your neck hurt?”
She tried to lift her head to answer him.
“Don’t move. Just tell me.”
“Head. Shoulder. Neck stiff. Back aches. Knee, thigh hurt.” She moved her left hand. “Pinky.”
Yeah, that was dislocated and turned sideways. He checked it out, wincing at the odd angle. Unfortunately that meant he needed to pop it back into place and splint it. “I’m really sorry about this. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But your finger is dislocated and I need to fix it.” He got the splint and tape ready, then took her hand, gripped the dislocated portion, pulled, and realigned the bones. She squeaked out what should have been a scream if she could manage it. He splinted the finger and taped it to her ring finger as well to keep it stable.
He checked the fluids, they were about half in her. “Are you feeling a little better?”
“No.”
“I don’t blame you. I honestly don’t know how you survived this long. The temps at night had to get below fifty. You must have been freezing.”
“So c-cold.”
And she was partially lying on stone.
“Okay, here’s the hard part. I need to get a look at your shoulder. If I can cut the limb stabbing you, maybe I can roll you over to assess your other injuries. There’s blood by your thigh, face, neck, and upper body. You’re covered in scrapes and bruises.” He wanted to ask about the old, healed scars on her body. It looked like someone had taken a knife and sliced away at her. He’d suspect self-harm, except for the fact that they wereall over her back and the back of her thighs. He wondered if her front looked the same.
“Hawk.”
