Saving Maddie's Baby. Marion Lennox

      The tossed papers lay ignored on the floor. Josh was already reaching for his jacket. He knew that look. ‘What?’ he demanded as she finished.

      ‘Trouble,’ Beth said, snagging her jacket, as well. ‘Mine collapse on Wildfire Island. One smashed leg, needs evac to the orthopods in Cairns. Plane’s leaving in ten.’

      ‘Mine collapse?’ He was snapping queries as he got organised. ‘Just the one injury?’

      ‘He was injured at the start of it. One of the supports collapsed. Fell on this guy’s leg but the rest of the idiots didn’t see it as a sign they should evacuate. But now …’ She took a deep breath. ‘The collapse looks serious. We’re working on early information but one of the local doctors is trapped, as well.’

      One of the local doctors.

      Wildfire.

      And something inside seemed to freeze.

      Beth stopped, too. ‘Josh? What is it?’

      ‘You said Wildfire. Part of the M’Langi group?’

      ‘Yeah.’

      ‘That’s where Maddie’s working.’

      ‘Maddie?’ Her eyes widened as she understood. ‘Your Maddie?’

      ‘We’re not married.’ It was a dumb thing to say but it was all he could think of.

      ‘I know that. You haven’t been married for years. So how do you know she’s there?’

      ‘I sort of … keep tabs. She’s working fly in, fly out, two weeks there, one week on the mainland. Her mum’s still in a nursing home in Cairns.’

      ‘Right.’ Beth started gathering gear again and he moved into automatic mode and did the same. There was a moment’s loaded silence, and then …

      ‘You mean you stalk her?’ she demanded, but he knew it was Beth’s way of making things light. Making a joke …

      ‘I do not stalk!’

      ‘But you keep tabs.’ There was little to add to their bags, only the drugs they kept locked away or refrigerated. ‘It sounds creepy.’

      ‘We keep in touch. Sort of. Christmas and birthdays. And I take note of where she’s registered to work. In case …’ He hesitated. ‘Hell, I don’t know. In case of nothing.’

      Beth’s face softened. She clipped her bag closed, then touched his shoulder as she straightened. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’ve been married twice, remember. Once your ex, always your ex. Unless it’s nasty there’s always a little bit of them under your skin. But, hey, there’s a sizeable med centre on Wildfire. The trapped doctor doesn’t have to be Maddie.’

      ‘Right.’ But suddenly he was staring into middle distance. He knew … Somehow he knew.

      ‘Earth to Josh,’ Beth said, not so gently now. ‘The plane’s waiting. Let’s go.’

      The crash had come from nowhere. One minute Maddie was working efficiently in the dim light, worried but not terrified.

      Now she was terrified.

      She needed to block out the dust and dark and fear.

      Where was her patient?

      She’d lost her torch. She’d fallen, stumbling in terror as the rock wall had crashed around her. She was okay, she decided, pushing her way cautiously to her knees. There was still breathable air if she covered her mouth and breathed through a slit in her fingers. But she couldn’t see.

      Somewhere in here was a guy with a life-threatening bleed.

      Where was the torch?

      Phone app. She practically sobbed with relief as she remembered an afternoon a few weeks ago, sitting on the hospital terrace with Wildfire’s charge nurse, Hettie, while Caroline had shown them apps they could put on their cell phones.

      Most she had no use for, but the torch app had looked useful for things such as checking it was a gecko on her nose and not a spider in the middle of the night. The disadvantages of living in the tropics. But now … Yes! Her phone was in her jacket pocket. She grabbed it and flicked it on.

      One push and a surprising amount of light fought through the dust.

      She could now see the big torch, lying at her feet. She grabbed it. The switch had flicked off when it had fallen. Not broken. She had light.

      Next …

      The guy she’d come in for.

      She’d met them halfway in. Blood had been streaming from Malu’s thigh and he’d been barely conscious. The miners with him had tied a tourniquet but it wasn’t enough.

      ‘He needs more pressure,’ she’d snapped. ‘Put him down.’

      And then she’d felt the rumbles. She’d felt the earth tremble.

      ‘Run!’ she’d screamed at the two guys who’d been carrying him, and she still seemed to hear the echoes of that yell.

      They’d run.

      She hoped they’d made it. Fallen rock was blocking the way she’d come. Please, let them have made it to the other side.

      It was no use hoping. First things first. She was raking the rubble-strewn floor with her torch beam, searching for Malu. The combined beam of torch and phone only reached about three feet before the dust killed it.

      He must have pulled himself back.

      ‘Malu?’

      ‘H-here.’

      A pile of stone lay between them. She was over it in seconds. It hurt, she thought vaguely. She was eight months pregnant. Climbing over loose rock, knocking rock in the process, was maybe not the wisest …

      She didn’t have time for wise.

      He was right by the pile. He was very lucky the rocks hadn’t fallen on him.

      Define luck, she thought grimly, but at least he was still alive. And still conscious.

      Dust and blood. A lot of it.

      He had a deep gash on his thigh where his pants were ripped away. The guys had tried to tie a tourniquet but it had slipped. Blood was oozing …

      But not pumping, she thought with relief. If it’d been pumping he’d be dead by now.

      She was wearing a light jacket. She hauled it off, bundled it into a tight pad, placed it against the wound and pushed.

      Malu screamed.

      ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ she told him, but there was no time to do anything about the pain. She had to keep pushing. ‘Malu, I have drugs but I need to stop the bleeding before I do anything else. I need to press hard.’

      ‘S-sorry. Just the shock …’

      ‘I should have warned you.’

      Go back to basics, she reminded herself, desperately fighting the need to cough, and the need to breathe through the grit. Desperately trying to sound in control. Don’t start a procedure before explaining it to the patient, she reminded herself, even if she was trapped in a place that scared her witless.

      Malu had relapsed into silence. She knew Malu. He was a large, tough islander from the outermost island of the M’Langi group.

      He had a wife and two small children.

      She pushed harder.

      She had morphine in her bag. If she had another pair of hands …

      She didn’t.

      His pants were ripped. Yes! Still pressing with one hand, she used the other and tugged the jagged cloth. The cloth ripped almost to the ankle.

      Now she was fumbling one-handed in her bag for scissors.