Page 34 of Off the Clock

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Page 34 of Off the Clock

“Tony!” Her eyes went wide with shock and relief. “Thank God you’re here. Diesel slipped off the trail and landed on a piece of an old metal fence post. You can’t let him die.”

Diesel was the young, blue-haired goth kid from the airport shuttle all those weeks ago.

“Yeah, please don’t let me die,” he gasped weakly.

“Geez, kid, what pickle did you get in now?” I managed to keep my voice light, channeling some of the calm Caleb radiated. Diesel had numerous lacerations along his legs, one of which was at a funny angle, and a growing bump on his temple. Most alarmingly, though, he had a chunk of rusty metal protrudingfrom his side. Thank God, it wasn’t an entire pole, but even a few inches of impalement could be life-threatening.

“Bit of a tight spot.” Diesel gritted out the retort. “Trying to impress Stephanie and lost my balance.”

“You know this guy?” Caleb asked me as he crouched next to Diesel.

“We were on the same shuttle when I arrived in town,” I explained before gesturing at Maren. “And, Caleb, this is Maren, Eric’s oldest.”

“Oh, that’s right. Thought I recognized you.” Caleb gave her and the other friend a reassuring smile. “Your dad’s going to be really proud of you, Maren. Just keep talking to Diesel here. Keep him calm while I figure out what we’re dealing with.”

“What do I do?” the other girl, Stephanie, asked, dancing from foot to foot like an agitated rabbit.

“Your job is to go back to the road.” Caleb pointed in the correct direction on the trail. “Stay on the trail, and don’t try to run. We don’t need two injuries.” He pulled out his phone. “Phew. I’ve got a couple of bars of signal. I’m going to call for help, see if we can get a rescue chopper here, stat.”

“Chopper.” Diesel licked his lips as Caleb spoke in low, clipped tones into his phone nearby. “Chopper is a funny word. I always wanted to fly one.”

“Chances are good you’ll get a ride in one today.” Caleb stepped closer again after directing Stephanie back to the trailhead to wait for the arrival of other first responders. “We’ve got a crew on the way along with life flight. No way is the helicopter going to be able to land here, so we’re going to need to get Diesel back to the road. The wide shoulders at the parking area should give them just enough room.”

“I don’t wanna move.” Diesel let out a pained moan.

“I know.” Caleb soothed him with a hand on his shoulder as he crouched.

“We’re here to help,” I added, trying to sound as reassuring as Caleb, but having a feeling I failed miserably. Icy dread gathered in my stomach, an unfamiliar sense of helplessness consuming me. All my training, all my years of experience, none of it seemed to matter right then.

I was so grateful for Caleb’s steady presence that my relief at not needing to be in charge bordered on comical.

Caleb assessed Diesel’s wounds, frowning and muttering about stabilizing the impalement while keeping up a friendly chatter with the rest of us.

“Tony, I’m going to need you and Maren to keep pressure on the exposed wounds.” He directed us to the two worst wounds on Diesel’s legs, both of which were seeping blood at a nasty rate. He had a small towel in his backpack that he ripped in two before pulling out his first-aid kit. It looked woefully small for the task at hand.

“Are you going to remove the piece of metal?” I asked Caleb in a low voice as I followed his directions. “You can’t, right?”

I had enough training to know that embedded objects like glass were best left alone until at a hospital, but I was also unsure how exactly we’d get Diesel back to the trailhead, as any movement could make the injury way worse.

“Nope. Gonna have to move him fence piece and all.” Caleb’s whisper was equally grim. “I’m doing what I can to stabilize the injury for transport, but removal will be up to the surgical team.”

And God.That part was unsaid but heavily implied. Even if we managed to get Diesel to the chopper, these were unmistakably grave injuries.

“His leg is probably broken too.” Maren’s voice was high and thready. “And there’s a lot of blood.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I awkwardly patted her shoulder with my free hand before returning to putting pressure on the wound. “You’re doing amazing.”

Maren’s helpfulness was measured merely by not collapsing into hysterics, but I judged myself far harsher, wishing I could quiet my racing pulse and brain, be more of an asset to Caleb. His steady energy, however, was exactly what the crisis needed as he hastily constructed a splint from some fallen branches and his own T-shirt.

His bare back revealed the start of a sunburn down to his shorts. I hoped Maren was too distracted to wonder how Caleb had managed a sunburn under his shirt.

“How about you? Hanging in there?” he asked in a low tone as he lined up the splint.

“I’m fine.” That I wasn’t was beyond relevant at the moment.

“Keep pressure steady,” Caleb said to Maren and I before leaning into Diesel. “This part is going to hurt, but the faster we can get you to the road, the better your chances.”

“Chances…?” Diesel’s voice took on a delirious edge. “Prettiest girl in town taking care of me. I like my chances.”




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