Izzie stuck close to Dr. Jacobson. The ER staff had divided itself up into teams. Rafe and the head of security, Vincent—who’d taken a piece of shrapnel to his shoulder but was walking around in a makeshift sling—were inspecting every floor, along with any spare nonessential personnel they could gather up. Cage Ralstone had another team in the first-floor stairwell, handling moderate injuries. Shrapnel had sliced through Cage’s arm when he was trying to dig Dr. Kaur out of the partially collapsed maternity ward, but he was still capable of treating patients—he was doing it one-handed.
Whatever had hit the city, it had been bad. An F4, people were saying. Possibly an F5.
She’d gotten lucky to make it inside. Just how lucky was something Izzie would never forget.
What she didn’t know was where her friends were.
Annie had been supposed to be at city hall today, convincing the mayor to spare her neighborhood in his recent development project. Izzie prayed Annie had found a safe place between the hospital and city hall.
Terror was hiding the truth.
Annie and Nikkie Jean were out there. Somewhere. Probably in trouble. Otherwise, they’d be here helping by now.
She couldn’t get to them.
No matter what she wanted.
All hospital staff had been accounted for. Except her closest friends—Annie, Fin, and Nikkie Jean.
She couldn’t let the fear paralyze her.
They needed every hand on deck right now. Their hospital wasn’t equipped for this.
She didn’t think there ever could be one.
Rumor had it that Finley Creek County Hospital had also taken a hit, but not as bad as FCGH. They were already diverting some of their patients to County and to Barratt County General down in Value.
Nikkie Jean could be at Barratt County. She lived down in that direction—the father of Nikkie Jean’s baby ran that hospital. Maybe they were together. That was possible. Nikkie Jean could have headed there to help. She’d heard Rafe and Dr. Jacobson talking about diverting some incoming in that direction.
Barratt County could take up to three dozen of their patients now.
Patients couldn’t stay in the ER or critical unit, but it was going to take time to get everyone transferred to safer locations.
Thankfully, the original wing to the hospital could operate as a self-contained unit. Everything else had been added around it. It had its own infrastructure—and was operational.
Rafe and Vincent were implementing the emergency plan now. Slowly but surely, everyone was getting moved. Then this part of the building would be shut down for safety.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was a plan.
They would do what they had to do to keep FCGH open for the people of Finley Creek that needed it.
Dr. Jacobson finished setting the stitches in the teenage boy who had sliced open his arm pulling debris off his seven-year-old cousin and turned to her.
“Now, what? Where do we go next?”
“We get outside to the triage tents they’ve set up. See what we can do.” He looked at her for a moment. “If there’s anyone you need to call, someone said the towers have been working again. You might try now before the surge hits.”
“Just Annie, Nikkie Jean, and Fin. I need to find them.” And Jake. Fear for her uncle threatened to choke her. Jake was out there somewhere—and there was no way she’d be able to contact him right now.
Someone caught her as she hurried through the rain toward the triage tent. “Get help! The parking garage!” Cherise. Her supervisor. She hadn’t even been on the schedule for tonight.
“Cheri, why are you here? Are you hurt?”
“My daughter told me the hospital and the TSP took direct hits. I’m here to help.”
Dr. Jacobson wrapped a hand around Cherise’s arm and turned her. “What about the parking garage?”
“Part of it is collapsing. There are people in the elevator. Hurry.”
Dr. Jacobson took off at a run. Toward the back garage. Izzie didn’t stop to think—she just followed.