The Chase (6 page)

“Look. His gums aren’t as purple as they were before. Believe it or not, I think we’re past that hurdle. Let’s get him out of the trailer.”

“Are we going to pull him out?”

“We’ll have to. Hopefully, there are still some folks out there who can give us a hand. I’ll handle his front end and make sure this contraption stays in place.”

“Gotcha.” Steve released his grasp on Chancellor’s front leg. “I’ll round up some help and get the back doors open. See you in a minute.”

Jake found a lead rope hanging from a ring by the door. He unsnapped the trailer tie and hooked the thick rope to Chancellor’s halter. He heard voices outside, followed by a harsh squeak as the top rear doors swung outwards, letting sunlight stream into the trailer.

Steve’s face appeared in the opening. “We’re going to take these doors off the hinges and get them out of the way before we open the ramp.”

“Okay.”

Jake felt Chancellor’s neck muscles tense, and the horse snorted and struggled to see what was happening behind him.

He gently forced Chancellor’s head back down. “Easy, boy. Save your energy.”

“We’ve got the doors off,” Steve called. “Ready for us to open the ramp?”

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Okay. I’ve got a rope here that I’m going to tie around his ankles so we can pull him out. That is, as long as he doesn’t try to kick the bejesus out of me in the process. Once I get his legs tied, we’ll take the divider out.”

Jake shifted his position so that he could still reach the makeshift chest tube, but he was clear of Chancellor’s front legs. “Okay,” he said, placing a hand on the horse’s neck. “I’ll try to keep him down and quiet.”

The trailer ramp opened with a metallic screech, and Chancellor grunted and struggled to raise his head.

“Easy, boy.” Jake increased the pressure on Chancellor’s neck, knowing that as long as he kept Chancellor’s head down, the horse wouldn’t try to get to his feet.

Steve approached the back of the trailer and placed a hand on Chancellor’s hind end, then ran it slowly down his legs. “Okay, Jake, I’m going to try to put the rope around his legs now.”

“Go ahead. I’ve got hold of him.”

Chancellor snorted and rolled his eyes but didn’t put up a struggle, and Steve quickly wrapped the rope in a figure eight around Chancellor’s ankles and pulled it tight.

“Got it.” Steve backed away and handed the end of the rope to a man who was standing next to him, then turned to the woman firefighter. “Would you climb up into the tack room and see if you can find some blankets or something I can use to pad the end of the trailer with? The edge is pretty banged up, and I don’t want him getting cut when we slide him out.”

“Sure thing.”

Steve turned his attention back to Jake. “Ready to take the center divider out?”

Jake nodded. “Why don’t you unlatch your end first; then I’ll release the pin up here and you can lift it out.”

“Right.” Steve motioned for another man to help him. He pulled the pin to free the butt bar, then grabbed hold of the divider and slid open the latch that held it in place. “Okay, we’ve got it. Release your end whenever you’re ready.”

Jake placed his knee on Chancellor’s neck and reached for the pin to release the divider. It should have slipped out easily enough, but it was wedged in place and he couldn’t get it to budge.

“Damn it.” Jake smacked the palm of his hand against the divider in an effort to move the hinge back into alignment.

“Is it stuck?”

“Yeah. Something must have gotten bent during impact. Let me see if I can work it loose. If not, we’ll just have to swing the divider out of the way while we slide him out.”

Jake fussed with the pin for a minute. “See if you can move your end of the divider to the right, towards the floor of the trailer. It looks like it got bent upwards. Maybe we can force it back down.”

The trailer rocked slightly as Steve and the other man tugged on the divider. “Okay, good,” Jake said. “Let me try it again.”

He wiggled the pin and felt it budge a little. “I can move it now. Try forcing it one more time.”

Sweat streamed down Jake’s neck, and the combination of heat, exertion, and lack of sleep was starting to make him feel woozy. As the men struggled with the divider, Jake rested his head on his arm and took a deep breath.

“Hey, Jake. You all right?”

Jake straightened up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let me try it again.”

He wiggled it again, as hard as he could, and after working it back and forth several times he finally managed to inch it out.

“Got it!” He removed the pin and slid the divider out from the hinge.

Steve and the other man lifted the divider out of the trailer and set it on the ground.

“Okay, let me just pad the edge here and we’re set to go.” Steve took an armful of horse blankets from the woman firefighter and stuffed them around the end of the trailer.

Two men took hold of the rope along with Steve, and another man grabbed Chancellor’s tail.

“Okay, once we start pulling, we’re not stopping until we have him clear of the trailer,” Steve said. “Ready? On three. One. Two. Three.”

Chancellor probably weighed twelve hundred pounds or more, but the four men heaved backwards and kept going in a steady motion as they slid him out of the trailer. Jake moved with them, keeping Chancellor’s head down and holding the chest tube in place. As soon as they had him out of the trailer, Steve swiftly removed the rope from his hind legs.

“He might be a little unsteady on his feet when he gets up,” Jake said. “Be prepared to get out of his way.”

Jake released his pressure on Chancellor’s neck and grabbed the lead rope. “Okay, boy, it’s time to get up now.”

Chancellor raised his head and looked around, blowing softly.

“Good boy, take your time,” Jake murmured.

The horse extended one front leg, then the other, and slowly heaved himself up. He stood awkwardly, with all four legs spread out, and seemed wobbly for a moment. Then he shook, gave a loud snort, lowered his head, and began nosing through the brush for something to graze on.

“All right!” Steve gave high fives to everyone near him. “We did it.”

Jake smiled and began to run his hands over Chancellor, down his legs, under his belly, checking to see if there were any other major injuries they had to tend to before transporting him to the hospital. He was pretty scraped up, but, luckily, most of the cuts seemed superficial.

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked. “Find anything else we need to worry about?”

Jake shook his head. “Nothing that seems critical. I think we can concentrate on finding a way to get him to the ambulance.”

Steve gazed up at the steep, rugged incline. “You think there’s any way he can make it up there?”

“It’d be a rough climb even without his chest injury. He’s breathing okay for now, but I’d hate to risk exerting him with the climb and have him collapse.”

“So what do you suggest?”

Jake took off his cowboy hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Steve. I’m not from around here. What happens if we go downhill?”

“I’m not that familiar with this area either, but it looks like these woods go on forever.” Steve turned to the rest of the group. “Anyone know if there’s a way out of here without going uphill?”

“There’s a service road that runs along the creek at the bottom. It’s quite a ways down, though,” the woman firefighter replied.

“Can I get the horse ambulance down there?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding slowly. “The shortest way is to come from the west, off Crooked Run Road, but there’s a portion of the service road that goes through the creek bed, and I’m sure the water’s pretty high after this storm.”

A middle-aged man wearing overalls stepped forward. “Your best bet would be to head east, then come back down Old Schoolhouse Road and connect with the service road that way. You’ll avoid the creek crossing by coming from that direction.”

“Would you be willing to ride with me and show me the way?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Steve turned to Jake. “Will you walk the horse down?”

Jake gave him a tired smile. “You kidding? After all we’ve been through, I’m not about to desert Chancellor now.”

“Thanks, man.” Steve turned to the woman firefighter. “Can you walk down with Jake and lead him to the service road?”

“You bet.”

“Okay, let’s head out. We can keep in touch by cell phone.” Steve took the cell phone from the pouch on his belt and glanced at the screen. “The signal’s weak, but there’s service. Jake, give me your number and I’ll program it into my phone.”

“You’re out of luck there,” Jake replied. “I don’t believe in those things.”

“I have one,” the woman firefighter said. She and Steve exchanged cell phone numbers, and then Steve and the man began the climb up the hill.

The woman firefighter looked at Jake and raised her hands. “I’m ready when you are.”

“All right. Do you mind walking next to him and holding the chest tube in place?”

“No. Just tell me what to do.”

Jake took her hand and placed it on Chancellor’s side. “Just keep your hand on it, down here near the base, where the wrap is. The tape might come loose once we start moving, and the last thing we need is for the tube to come out.”

N
othing Beverly told Anne could have prepared her for what she saw when she entered the trauma room. Anne had expected to find Doug in a small, stark cubicle, like those she had encountered on previous visits to the emergency room. But the area Beverly led her into was large and brightly lit, with glass-fronted cabinets crammed full of medical supplies.

Anne’s stomach turned at the antiseptic odor that permeated the room, and she covered her nose with her hand. She could see the outline of Doug’s legs under a white blanket on a stretcher in the center of the room, but a nurse stood next to him, fiddling with a machine, and she blocked Anne’s view of Doug from the waist up. The nurse stepped back as Anne drew near.

“Oh my God,” Anne whispered, clutching the edge of the stretcher for support.

Doug’s complexion was pale beneath his tan, and he had a long gash high across his forehead, which was plastered with Steri-Strips, giving it a zippered effect. A tangle of tubes and wires led to the machines that flanked the stretcher, and a tube protruded from Doug’s mouth, secured to his handsome face by a mass of white tape.

“Get her a chair,” Beverly called as she grasped Anne’s shoulders and held her steady. “It’s a shock to see him like this, I know. Are you okay?”

Anne nodded as she sank into the chair that was shoved behind her legs.

“How far along are you, honey?”

“I’m due in three weeks.”

“Let me get a blood pressure reading on you.”

The ventilator made a whooshing sound, and Doug’s chest seemed to lift off the stretcher as air was pumped into his lungs. Then the machine emitted a sigh, and his chest sank back down again. His eyes were closed, and he had an IV line inserted at the inside of each elbow and another in his right forearm. A clear tube connected to a canister ran to the right side of his chest and gave off a soft bubbling sound. Wires ran from his chest to a monitor at the head of the stretcher, and a half-full bag of yellow liquid hung off the side. Doug’s arms lay motionless on the white blanket and Anne reached for his hand.

“Can he feel my touch?” she asked as Beverly wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm.

“I always encourage family members to talk to loved ones who are in a coma,” Beverly said, squeezing the bulb to inflate the cuff with air. “I can’t tell you for sure exactly what he can hear or feel, but I believe that he will know you’re present. Just talk to your husband. Tell him where he is and what happened.”

Beverly removed the blood pressure device. “One twenty over seventy. You’re fine. Here, let me lower the stretcher so you’re level with your husband. Then I’ll page Dr. Adams so you can speak with him.”

Anne waited until she heard the door slide shut behind the nurses, then bent down and kissed Doug’s hand. “I’m here, Doug. Everything’s going to be all right. You had a car accident, and you’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be fine.”

She squeezed his hand, hoping for some kind of a response, but it lay limply between her own. Anne shuddered as the ventilator whooshed, inflating Doug’s lungs with air, then sighed, and his chest deflated again.

Anne heard the sound of the door slide open. She turned, to see Beverly and a gray-haired man wearing a white coat walk into the room.

“Hello, Mrs. Cummings. I’m Dr. Adams.” His voice was deep, with a hint of a Virginia drawl. “I’d like to bring you up-to-date on your husband’s condition. Would you care to step out into the lounge?”

Anne shook her head. “I don’t want to leave my husband. I’d rather talk in here.”

“Very well.” He set his clipboard down on the stretcher and pulled a chair up next to Anne. “Let’s start with why your husband is on a ventilator. He has what’s called a pneumothorax. This is a condition in which air gets between the lung and chest wall and causes the lung tissue to collapse. We’ve inserted a chest tube, which will relieve the pressure and drain any fluid.”