Cherise was going to stay in recovery, watching over everyone they had there now. Including Annie.
Izzie wanted to break down, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
The night was not over yet. Annie was going to be fine. Izzie had a new respect for Dr. Jacobson; he’d definitely earned his reputation as one of the best trauma surgeons in the country.
She caught up with him in the parking lot before he made it back to the triage tent. “Dr. Jacobson!”
He turned to look at her. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Not as tall as Rafe, but the chief of medicine was over six and a half feet. Dr. Jacobson was a few inches shorter. Maybe a full foot taller than Izzie’s five four or so. With more lean muscle than Rafe’s linebacker brick-wall build.
Both seemed strong enough to captain this ship through the storm.
They still had a line of patients waiting to get started at treatment.
“We have to keep moving,” Izzie said. “How long can we do this? We’re already at maximum capacity, with a third the number of beds to put people in. Half our supplies are destroyed. It’s still storming. What if we get hit again? Or we lose some of the tents or the people—including us—in them?”
He wrapped a strong hand around her arm and pulled her closer. Quieting her, so that her words didn’t scare anyone nearby.
Too late. Everyone was already scared.
The man was used to being in charge. It was hard to miss that. “We keep going. We don’t let them see. Just keep going.”
Izzie closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. Then coughed. She wheezed. Damn it.
She recognized the signs of impending trouble when they hit her. Izzie still had debris and contaminants in her lungs from the ER caving down around them, and the wind was whipping every possible allergen right toward her—she’d pay for that soon.
Stress didn’t help much, either.
She opened her eyes. He was staring down at her, concern in his gray eyes. He hadn’t missed it. “You ok?”
“Fine. I’m asthmatic. The dust and plaster have irritated my lungs. We need to get back to work.” She turned away. The last thing she needed was him looking at her like that. Not today.
Allen didn’t like it, but she was right. They had to get back to it. He would listen to her lungs the next free moment they got. In the meantime, he kept her as close to him as he could. Nearly dying together had tied them together somehow. If only for tonight.
Or maybe it was the dark eyes. They reminded him of Jess. Jess had had dark eyes like that. Big and deep and so dark a man could lose himself in them.
Izzie wasn’t like Jess, though. She had compassion for others. Kindness she couldn’t fake.
It was evident in the way she held the little boy on her lap while Allen stitched up the child’s arm. When Allen was finished the little boy hugged her. Izzie held him back and said something to him in Spanish. Comforted him and his terrified father.
They couldn’t find the child’s mother. She’d worked near city hall.
From what he’d heard, that area had taken a direct hit. Thousands of people were without shelter tonight. All of the usual places—hospitals, schools, churches, community centers—were all destroyed. Two of the largest churches in the city had been wiped clean off their foundations.
City hall—where Annie had been. Where Nikkie Jean had been going.
All the others that could had opened to the uninjured for shelter.
The mayor—Turner Barratt, a friend of Allen’s from his college days—was about to make a press conference from right in front of the hospital. Turner had been stuck with Annie Gaines in city hall. They both had come damned close to dying.
If they had taken much longer getting Annie out of the rubble, she would most likely have bled to death in the mayor’s arms.
The medical buildings across the parking lot from the hospital were relatively unscathed. Someone had opened W4HAV up to the public to use as a Red Cross post. Volunteers were gathering to help locate the missing.
Allen’s own practice was one floor up from the women’s charity.
He and Izzie finished with the patient and moved them along toward the Red Cross post. It was all they could do. He took another moment to try to get another call out to Shelby. She didn’t answer.
He tried again before someone yelled for his attention.
Rafe came into their tent. He tossed a candy bar at Allen. He handed more to Izzie and Jillian, who’d joined them again. He looked at Allen. “Houghton’s opening up the Barratt Hotel. Anyone needing a room for the night, send there. He has four hundred and thirty open for now. Mel has her people keeping a running tally and a list of names. She’s getting her staff organized to help.”
The Barratt Finley Creek boasted over a thousand rooms. It was a weekday. It was in their favor. Allen nodded. “Numbers?”
“We’ve lost Ray, our security guard. Whatever hit him, it was over quickly, at least. One of our nurses in ICU lost his leg. He was caught out in the parking garage, and there was no time to save it. A few severe lacerations amongst support staff, six concussions amongst our nurses, three crushing injuries. No one else. You and Izzie, Fin and Virat, were in the most danger, followed by the PICU unit. Glad to see you in one piece. We got so damned lucky tonight.”
Rafe was a good chief of medicine. Better than Allen would have been. The man was calm and steady, and people looked to him to lead. Rafe did it well.
“So what’s the plan for staffing?” Allen asked.
“Whoever we can get, twelve-hour shifts. County is slammed, as are Barrattville Med Center and Barratt County. Wichita Falls is open for minor injuries, with their own transportation. They’ve had a mass of injuries from straight-line wind damage up there as well.”
“How hard was Barratt County hit?”
“Not as hard as we were. The sheriff and one of his deputies are still missing.”
Jillian and Izzie both gasped at that.
Rafe nodded, rubbing a hand up Jillian’s back soothingly. “I’m sorry; I know she’s a friend. It’s Bailey that’s missing. I have contacts who will let me know if—when—she and Sheriff Addy are found.”
“Anything from the TSP?” Shelby had been on her way there to pick up her closest friend. He’d yet to hear from her.
She’d be trying to get to him if she could. Send him a message. Allen knew that.
Rafe shook his head. “Another direct hit. They lost two officers and a detective who were caught outside during the storm that I know of right now. There will be more coming from their building; rescue teams are continuing to get them out. No word yet on everyone who was out on patrol. The chief took a knock to the head, but he’s going to be fine. They pulled him out fifteen minutes ago and are bringing him in now.”
Allen fought the urge to be sick. Everything in him was torn now. His sister was his world. He battled back the urge to run out into the night and find her with everything he had.
“What the hell are we facing tonight?”
Rafe shook his head. “I don’t know, but I think it’s just beginning.”