Ava jerked to a halt at the front door in the farm utility and wiped the tears off her cheek with a trembling hand. Zac jumped off the verandah and slid into the passenger seat. ‘Go.’
Her brain was whirling and all she could think was, It’s my fault. She’d missed it. Zac had agreed that Jock’s depression was concerning and they’d made the appointment, but none of them had thought him this urgently in need of assessment. ‘Hana went looking for him. Found him hanging and cut him down.’
Zac made a noise through his teeth. ‘How long?’
‘The ute was still running down the hill when she saw it. He’d used it to swing off.’
Zac sighed. ‘Poor bloody Hana.’
Ava didn’t want to think about poor Hana. ‘She had the sat phone. Imagine if she hadn’t.’
He touched her arm. ‘Don’t imagine anything until we sort this.’
Thank God you’re still here, she thought. And that was something else she didn’t want to imagine. All she said was, ‘Yes.’
Then she glanced at him as they tore up the hill they’d walked so enjoyably down almost a week ago. ‘Have you seen hangings?’
‘Intubate. Ventilate. Resuscitate,’ he recited. ‘We’ll go from there. He’s alive now, so his odds are good.’
She blew out her breath. Okay. ‘Thank you.’
As soon as she spotted them she jerked the car to a halt. She saw Hana sitting on the ground beside the quad bike, her back against the wheel, her body stiff. Jock’s head lay in her lap. His neck purple and face swollen, his lips bloody where he’d bitten them. He was unconscious, and rattling gasps slowed as his wind pipe closed with the swelling and air entry began to shut down. Hana had blood on her mouth, and Ava guessed it was because she’d kissed him.
Ava said, ‘Can you slide out, Hana?’
Zac moved her aside. ‘Take his shoulders as I lift her out. He’s occluding.’ Zac had Hana out and Jock flat on his back in seconds, and Ava reached for the kit to hand him the airway. ‘Straight to endotracheal or we won’t get it in?’ She lubricated it.
‘Yep.’ Zac slid the tube past the obstruction and blew up the balloon, then attached the bag to hand ventilate. They both shuddered with relief as Jock’s chest rose and fell with Zac’s squeeze of the bag. The simplified version of emergency airway.
Ava reached for his wrist. ‘Pulse one eighty.’ Her voice broke and she sucked back the sob that wanted to explode.
‘Same as mine,’ Zac said quietly and Ava blinked and then nodded.
‘Mine too. Thanks.’ Focus on reality, she told herself. Jock was breathing. He had a pulse. It could have been worse. She glanced at Hana, but her sister-in-law’s eyes were glued to the rise and fall of Jock’s chest, her lips moving in prayer. Bloody, bloody hell.
They put in a cannula for access in case they needed adrenaline and Zac gave some sedation in case Jock woke with a tube in his throat. Though he was still unconscious, they should be able to keep him stable until he could be airlifted out. What happened after that they could pray about. Ava fumbled until she found the blood-pressure machine.
When she’d completed the measurement she said, ‘His blood pressure is okay, Hana, which is a good sign.’
‘Mine isn’t.’
There was something in Hana’s voice that made Ava plead silently to God. ‘Hana?’
‘I fell. After I cut the rope. I hit my stomach and the contractions have started.’
Ava crawled away from her brother across the rocks until she knelt beside Hana and rested her hand on her sister-in-law’s stomach. The uterus below her fingers was rock hard. ‘Oh, sweetheart. You are so brave and wonderful. Hold on.’