Page 13 of Savage Protector
Ethan glances back over his shoulder. “Rome’s working on her.”
“Is she alive?” I repeat. “Were we in time?”
“I don’t know, lad. Can you get up, do you think?”
I nod and push myself up off the deck.
Ethan stands and offers me his hand. “Shit, but you scared me. I thought we’d lost you, too.”
“Thanks for coming after me. I don’t think I could have…”
“I know you fucking couldn’t.” He glowers at me. “And after all I’ve invested in you.” Then, he hugs me. Hauls me to his chest and hugs me. Hard. “Fucking idiot. Don’t do anything like that again or I’ll fucking drown you myself.”
“Right, boss,” I mumble, feeling oddly touched. It’s been a long time since anyone actually seemed to care whether I lived or died. There was Shahida, of course, a few years ago, but since then…nothing. I collect my wits sufficiently to ask again. “Will she be okay?”
“Not sure,” comes the terse reply from Rome, on his hands and knees applying heart compressions to the motionless girl on the deck and interspersing his efforts with regular mouth-to-mouth resuscitation attempts.
“Let me help,” Ethan starts.
“No, I can do it.” Advanced first aid is part of the standard training that all Caraksay soldiers receive, and any one of us should be able to revive a casualty if needed. I stagger towards the pair on the deck and drop down opposite Rome.
He nods and leaves the mouth to mouth to me.
“Ashore in thirty seconds,” Jack calls. He’s the only one of us not dripping wet.
It’s the longest thirty seconds of my life, but eventually we bump up against the jetty. Neither Rome nor I stop until we’re shouldered aside by the diminutive doctor.
“Tell me,” she snaps.
“She was under the water for at least a minute, Doc. Hasn’t regained consciousness since we got her aboard.” Ethan provides the report.
“Right. You two, can you carry on what you’re doing until we get to my clinic?”
“Sure, Doc,” Rome pants.
I simply nod.
Ethan and Jack take the girl’s weight and carry her ashore.
“Keep up, you two,” Jack orders us as they break into a run.
Megan sprints ahead to open the clinic door, then directs us into the treatment room. We lay her on the examination trolley and step back.
Megan puts an ear to the girl’s chest, shakes her head. “Pass me the defibrillator,” she orders us.
Rome snatches it from the wall just as the unconscious girl lets out a ragged cough and a gush of water trickles from the corner of her mouth.
“I think she’s back,” Megan mutters, rolling her patient onto her side and arranging her in the recovery position. “Nice work, all of you.”
“Will she…?”
Megan glances at me. “It’s early days. I can take it from here. You go and get warm, grab some dry clothes…”
“I’m fine,” I protest.
“Not for long if you don’t get warmed up soon. Same goes for all of you. I don’t want to be dealing with three cases of pneumonia as well as everything else. Get out of here and let me work.”
“She’s right. Come on, let’s do as she says.” Ethan is ushering us to the door.
