It took them over two hours to pull Turner and the woman he held out. He spent most of the time doing what he could and praying. Finally, someone moved the last piece of rubble off Turner's legs. He moved his feet as gently as he could, ignoring the pain.
He could feel his damned toes. He'd survive.
Annie had been in and out the entire time she'd lain underneath him. He would never forget those blue eyes or how they had looked in the dimming light of his cellphone. She hadn't panicked. Not even once.
She had looked at him each time, asking him if she was still ok. He didn't know. He was a corporate attorney and accidental politician, not a doctor.
There wasn't a doctor among the Barratts anywhere. It just wasn't something Barratts did. They ruled cities and states and businesses and ranches and villages and mega-companies. His father had been the black sheep, not going into business of some sort.
They didn't become doctors. There hadn't been a doctor in his family since the end of the Civil War.
If Turner ever had a kid of his own, he was going to strongly encourage that child toward med school after today.
An older man he recognized as Mel’s father was the first to get to Annie.
He and Houghton pulled her out together, Turner stabilizing her as best as he could. Houghton cursed when he saw her. “Annie? Can you hear us?”
No response.
Annie never woke in the entire time they were getting her out.
Hands pulled Turner farther from the ruins. He was able to stand. “I'm ok. But Annie...Annie's hurt. Help her.”
“We've got her, Mayor Barratt,” a calm male voice said. Turner looked at the paramedic now kneeling over Annie. Half a dozen men and women surrounded Turner. Houghton hugged Turner quickly.
Houghton had meant it—he had helped dig them out with his bare hands.
The paramedic strapped a neck brace on Annie. “We'll get her help right now.”
“Finley Creek General. She works there. She wants to go there. She has friends there. I promised…”
“That hospital took a direct hit. A third of the building is now gone. Most of the ER. They're working triage in the parking lot.” One of the paramedics said.
“Then get her there. That's where she wanted to go. She has friends there.” If nothing else, he’d make certain she was taken where she wanted to go. He could do that. She’d asked him to do that, and he’d promised.
The paramedic paused in stabilizing the rebar. “I know. I work with Annie. See her almost every day. I even painted her porch for her. She’s my friend, too. I'll make certain she's taken care of, sir. You have my word. But we need to get moving.”
“I'm going with her.” Turner stepped closer to the stretcher.
He wasn't ready to let her out of his sight just yet. Turner wasn't certain he ever would be. She looked so alone and so small on that gurney.
There was blood and dust and rain over her everywhere.
“We'll get you checked out, as well. People will be looking for you soon, I think.”
Turner remembered the city he loved then. Remembered that he had a job to do now, just the same as the paramedics. “How badly were we all hit?”
“I don't know. But it's catastrophic. Hospital, city hall, schools, churches, and the TSP—hit or flattened. The TSP is just gone. And I think it's going to get worse. The storm went straight through our city.”
Turner just stared at the paramedic as he finished strapping Annie down, as what he’d said started to sink in.
His city had been destroyed, and now he had to help hold his people together.
He didn’t have a clue how he was going to make that happen.