Not Quite Enough (Not Quite series) (23 page)

He heard a bark. On his hand and knees, he crawled in the direction of the falling water. When he splashed into the pool, he stood and filled the cave with a sharp whistle.

The barking continued, faster… closer.

His stiff hands fisted. “Monica? Monica… someone’s here.”

She didn’t respond.

“Here! Help!” He whistled again, longer, louder. “Help!”

“Trent? Trent?”

He wanted to weep. They’d been found. “In here!”

“Trent?” The voice didn’t sound familiar, but soon there were others.

“Monica?”

“She’s in here.”

Dirt from above rained on him, as did the glow of a flashlight. “Watch out. There’s a hole.”

“Everyone stop,” he heard someone yell. “Back up.”

“Monica? Monica are you in there?” The voice was female and frantic.

“She’s here,” Trent yelled back. “We’re both inside a cave.”

There were shouts of joy followed by the familiar bark of Ginger.

“Monica?”

Trent took a few steps away from the pool, careful he didn’t trip over Monica as he hurried to her side.

“Monica?” The woman’s voice started to edge toward panic.

“She’s here.”

“Why isn’t she answering?”

He hesitated. “She’s sick.”
Really fucking sick.

“Trent, it’s Jason.” Hearing his brother’s voice was music to his ears. “Glen and I are here.”

“I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice.”

Rocks from above fell again. Trent leaned over Monica’s frame to keep any from falling on top of her.

“Everyone back! Mitch, tie me off. We have no idea how stable this ground is.”

Trent envisioned the chaos above him. Couldn’t help but wonder how long it was going to take to get them out of there. But holy hell they were going to make it out. Alive.

“Trent, my name is Radar. How far down are you?”

“We’re at sea level. There was an opening to the cave on the shore. It collapsed with the last quake.”

“OK. I’m dropping a flashlight down.”

“There’s a pool of water directly under the opening.”

“Got it. One, two, three.” The light hit the ground and lit the cavern. Trent grabbed the light, focused it first on Monica. She moaned, but didn’t wake.

He shone his light toward the opening. “Is there a doctor with you?”

“Yes. Dr. Eddy is with us. We need to set up to bring you out. It’s going to take some time.”

Trent watched as another tremor shook Monica’s body. “Listen, Radar.” He thought of the woman above calling out for Monica. “I need to talk to that doctor. And ah, is that Monica’s sister up there?”

“Yeah. The Morrisons are here. I pushed them back. There’s no telling how stable the ground is up here.”

“I need to talk to the doctor. Monica… she’s not well,” he said again.

“Hold on.”

Trent soaked one of Monica’s shirts and placed it over her head as he waited for the doctor to draw near. “Monica,” he whispered. “We’re going to be OK. They found us.”

“Trent,” she said his name without waking.

A few minutes later, Radar lowered a two-way radio in a basket and told him Dr. Eddy had the other end.

“Damn good to hear your voice,” Walt said.

“You have no idea.”

“Talk to me. How’s Monica?”

“She’s burning up. When the opening collapsed, her right leg was trapped under the rock.”

“Is she still trapped?”

“No. We managed to free her, but her leg is jacked up.”

“Bleeding?”

“Not anymore.”

“Is her foot cold?”

Trent touched her foot. “No. It’s warm.” Hot actually.

“What about where she’s cut? Do you see bone?”

Trent had slid her pants off earlier but kept the wound covered. “No. But it’s bright red, swollen. It’s obviously broken.”

“Above the knee or below?”

“Below.”

“OK. Can you wake her?”

He tried again.

She opened her eyes. “Sleep,” she managed to say.

“She opens her eyes,” Trent reported. “Don’t think she’s aware of what’s going on.”

Walt must have kept his hand on the radio because Trent heard every frantic demand on the other side. “Morrison,” Walt yelled.

“Yeah,” Trent heard Jack Morrison’s voice.

“We’re going to need to get Monica to a hospital as soon as she’s out of there. Get a call to Dr. Klein, have him meet me at the airport.”

The radio turned off, but not before Trent heard the panic in Walt’s voice.

Since when did emergency physicians panic?

“Trent, you there?”

“I’m here.”

“They’re setting up ropes and a retrieving basket for Monica. What have you been eating, drinking?”

He fumbled with the radio, felt his fingers stiffen. “Monica had protein bars, some bagged food. We ran out of bottled water two days ago and have been drinking from the pool. Seems fresh enough.”

“Not salty?”

“Tastes like dirt, not salt.”

“No vomiting, GI issues, cramping?”

“No.”

“What about you? Do you feel sick?”

Trent kept a hand on Monica as he spoke. “Headache, a little stiff, but otherwise fine.” For a guy who’s been stuck in a cave for nearly five days, he was perfect.

“Listen, Trent. When they bring up Monica, fill one of those bottles with the water you’ve been drinking, and send it with her.”

Trent’s gaze fell on the pool. “You think it’s contaminated?”

“Won’t know until I have a lab test it.”

Someone above Trent shouted.

“I’m giving the radio back to Radar.”

Radar told him to watch for the basket that would carry Monica out. They were going to test the ground with lighter equipment first, and then lower one of the medics down.

Trent felt helpless as the minutes ticked in painfully slow motion. When the basket finally breached the opening of the cave, he caught it and unlatched the hook. He fisted his hand a few times and dragged it to Monica’s side. Next came a tackle box.

This time Trent couldn’t blow off the stiffness in his fingers.
Maybe I’m not so great.
He rubbed the back of his neck and watched the rope elevate above him.

Finally, a man dangled above the hole. They lowered him slowly. A few rocks trickled down to splash in the pool. Trent stayed by Monica’s side, talking to her although she didn’t respond with anything other than a moan.

The medic slid out of his harness and moved to Monica’s side. “I’m Miller,” he introduced himself.

“Trent.”

Miller took a quick look at Monica and said, “Damn, Queenie, what the hell happened to you?”

“Queenie?”

“Nickname. Some of us came from California to help search.” As he spoke, he removed one of those blood pressure things and a stethoscope. Miller ducked into his work and spoke into his radio. “Walt?”

“Talk to me,” Walt said on the other end.

“Blood pressure is 170 over 92, pulse 130, respirations 34.” He rattled off her skin color, and several other things that Trent wasn’t sure of their meaning. Miller attempted to wake Monica up, only to see her eyes open but then close.

Another man was lowered into the cave and pushed Trent away from Monica’s side. The only thing he could do was stand by and watch as they worked on her. They started an IV and cut off the bandage on her leg. From the box, they removed gauze, tape… and proceeded to place a quick bandage over her wound. They wrapped something else around her leg, immobilizing it.

“Trent?”

Trent shoved around the medic to see Monica’s eyes open and search for him.

“I’m here.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m here.”

She smiled and looked between the men. The guys working on her tried to talk to her, but she didn’t say anything else before closing her eyes.

Between the three of them, they managed to get her in the basket and secured. Trent looked around the room, and then remembered the request for water. He filled a water bottle and secured it inside Monica’s backpack, which he placed beside her.

He stroked her head again, and then she was being lifted into the air.

Trent held his breath until he knew she was safely aboveground.

“You’re next.”

It took another fifteen minutes for the rope to lower back down to ground level. And by the time Trent made it out, Monica had already been whisked away.

Chapter Eighteen

There came a point where life merged with death in a tug-of-war and the body in between could do nothing but grab a bowl of popcorn and watch. On one hand, death held a peaceful blanket of nothing left but an aching feeling that something was left out of place, something extremely important that needed to be done. On the other hand, there were the clawing nails of pain and anguish that instinctively you knew needed to be felt, to be triumphed over, in order to experience one more day.

That one day would be worth the struggle.

Images floated above Monica’s thin layer of consciousness. Trent smiled above her, his face lit up by the glow of his cell phone. He kissed her, told her they were going to be OK. Then she was floating, and the ceiling of the cave floated toward her and panic set deep inside of her.
I’m not done
, she yelled at whoever listened.

Faces floated around her, of those who she worked with and beside, her sister, her brother-in-law… strangers.

Where’s Trent?

The image of him inside the cave, alone, welled up inside her. “He’s in there. Help him.”

Then the water from the giant wave overtook everything and she couldn’t catch her breath.

She fought to find the surface.

Jessie held her sister’s hand throughout the flight. Not once did Monica wake long enough to utter one word that she was OK.

Walt flew with them to Florida where a team was waiting.

Jack kept telling her Monica would be all right. That she wouldn’t allow anything as simple as a broken leg to get the best of her.

“Monica’s tough,” Jack told her.

From Monica’s bedside, Walt chimed in, “We don’t call her the Ice Queen for nothing.”

“Ice Queen doesn’t sound flattering.”

“She’s tough, Jessie,” Walt told her. “She’s going to be all right.”

Yet there was a hint of doubt behind Walt’s eyes.

The private jet didn’t hold the necessary equipment to hold a gurney in place, so they improvised with what they had. The basket that had brought Monica to the surface was strapped into the couch of the plane. They secured an oxygen tank that helped deliver what Monica needed. Dr. Klein had met Walt at the airport with necessary medicine. Even to Jessie, Monica appeared as if she were sleeping and not struggling.

Yet when the constant beep of the monitor that displayed her sister’s heart rate to the doctor slowed, Walt adjusted something… appeared frazzled. When Monica started to lose the contents of her stomach, the good doctor turned white.

Walt tried to hide his unease and mumbled under his breath, cursing the fact that he didn’t have enough of what he needed to make everything perfect for his patient. His friend.

They landed in Miami. A medevac team met them and helicoptered Monica and Walt to the hospital.

When Jessie and Jack arrived at the hospital much later, they were ushered into a private waiting room for the longest hour of Jessie’s life.