med supplies for another one, but came up empty. 'Damn it!'
He remembered Zharan had ordered both helicopters be equipped with med supplies. Christian sprang to his feet and raced across the clearing. One of the field medics had the other kit, using it to treat a head wound. Christian knelt by the man and dug through the other medical supplies. All the while, the moist hissing of Jasmine's wound played on his nerves, a sound not easily forgotten.
'Damn it,' he cursed under his breath. The dressing he needed was missing from the second kit or had been used already. Now, he'd have to get creative. He grabbed what he needed and rushed back.
'I got nothing, but maybe you can use these ... to improvise.'
The young man was still working on Jasmine to stop the bleeding and get two large-bore IVs into her. But when he looked up and saw what Christian held in his hands, he shook his head and shrugged.
'How?' Pity edged his eyes. He'd probably received limited training, but had no idea how to make due with what he had.
Christian looked down at the rubber gloves, empty IV bag wrapper, scissors, and tape in his hands. For a second, he shut his eyes. She needed a hospital and a chest tube, not his clumsy attempt at playing doctor.
'What's happening? Why can't he help her?' His father tugged at his arm, smearing Jasmine's blood on his sleeve. When he figured out Christian was her last chance, his father asked, 'Do you know what to do?'
'Yeah, but I've got no time to explain.' Christian nodded, acting more confident than he felt. 'You gotta trust me.'
A cavity surrounded the lungs. Pierced by a bullet, the pocket would let air in and prevent the lungs from inflating right. To complicate matters, air wouldn't leave the lungs like it normally did, so each breath Jasmine took filled the cavity and the surrounding lung tissue with more and more air. If they left the wound untreated and waited for the trip back to a hospital, Jasmine would die from a growing pressure in her chest cavity, one that would push against her heart and twist the major veins and arteries closed. She'd strangle with the serious complications of a collapsed lung. Christian had seen it happen.
He needed to move.
He tugged on a pair of rubber gloves and leaned closer, listening to the left side of her chest. Her breathing only came from the one side. A lung had collapsed. Unconscious as she was, she had taken a turn for the worse. Her skin looked moist and clammy. And her heart rate was shallow and rapid.
He had no time to lose. Christian clipped off a section from an empty IV bag wrapper with a pair of scissors. He cleared the wound and swabbed the surrounding area with antiseptic.
'Cut me some tape.' He nudged his chin at Raven, fixing his eyes on her.
She didn't hesitate. Raven yanked on a rubber glove and did as he asked, tearing off pieces of tape, ready to assist him.
Christian placed a piece of the bag wrapper over the wound and taped three sides down, leaving one section open to act as a flutter valve for Jasmine's exhale. He had to use his gut instincts on how much to tape down. He hoped he guessed right.
'Gotta treat the entrance wound too.' He applied a similar patch of the wrapper to the left side of her chest, under her arm. He taped it completely closed this time.
With the distance to the hospital, he knew she'd have a better chance if he got her lung inflated. He leaned closer and listened again. With her shallow breathing, she may not be able to fill her lung naturally. Christian couldn't wait for something that might not happen. He tilted her head back and pinched off her nose, applying a measured mouth-to-mouth, matching her breathing as she inhaled. After a few tries, it worked.
'Got it.' He grinned and gave a reassuring glance at his father and Raven. Any small victory felt like a major milestone.
The lung inflated enough to move her, but he wasn't done yet. He had to treat her arm wound. Christian secured a mound of gauze to her arm to stop the bleeding there. But she could still have internal bleeding into her chest cavity. He may only have bought her a few precious minutes.
'Now we gotta get her to a trauma center. Fast.' He looked up into the worried eyes of his father, knowing Charboneau would take charge now.
'Please . . . help us.' Nicholas pleaded his case to the men witnessing the drama being played out. 'We need a hospital.'
Captain Duarte stepped in and ordered his men to load the nearest chopper with the wounded. 'Take those most seriously injured. And these hostages are to accompany them. Move. Move!'
The men around them scrambled to help.
'I will call ahead to make sure the hospital knows what to expect,' another man offered.
Christian nodded. He stared down at his gloved hands, caked with Jasmine's blood. Doubt crept into his mind. He had no idea if he'd done the right thing. Now it would be a race against time to get her the help she needed. He yanked off his gloves and threw them to the ground.
'Come on.' He helped his father to his feet. 'We gotta go.'
With great care, Duarte's men loaded Jasmine onto a stretcher with her IVs, carrying her toward the cargo hold of a helicopter. Others crawled in behind them. Another man lay on a stretcher next to Jasmine. A tight squeeze.
After the door slammed shut, the thick smell of blood and fear hung heavy in the air. Miserable groans and strained breathing filled the cramped space. One man whispered a prayer. Christian shut his eyes, wanting to block out the waking nightmare and the ghosts it conjured for him. Once the crew jumped into the cockpit and revved the engine, the sound masked the pitiable suffering and desperation. A small mercy.
Every second felt like an eternity.
After they lifted off the ground, Christian felt Raven's hand on his. He had almost lost her. Turning, he kissed her cheek and held her in his arms, not wanting to let go. Like a shot of adrenaline, she infused his soul with her strength . . . and her love. He fought a lump wedged in his throat. So many thoughts ... so many regrets raced through his head. Christian had no idea how to make it up to her.
'When I think what could have happened . . .' he whispered in her ear.
She pulled from him enough to touch a gentle finger to his lips. 'Don't say it. We're still here.' She swallowed, her eyes glistening. 'We can talk later. Your father needs you now.'
Raven was right. Cradling her face in his hands, Christian kissed her again, then shifted his gaze to his father. The man looked lost.
'Jasmine's tough,' Christian said. 'She's gonna make it.'
He stared into the inconsolable eyes of Nicholas Charboneau, unsure he'd even heard him. His father nodded, more out of reflex, but he didn't look up. Instead, he stroked the pale fingers of Jasmine's hand as if she were made of delicate crystal and would shatter.
'This can't be happening. Not to her.' His father's voice barely carried over the chopper noise, his words not meant for anyone else to hear.
When Christian reached for his neck to give his father a reassuring squeeze, Nicholas lowered his chin and let out a gasping sob, fighting hard to hold back. Christian didn't know his father well enough to understand the depth of his sadness. A part of him deeply regretted that. Maybe Charboneau cried for all he'd suffered, but more than likely, he dreaded what still lay ahead.
Christian hesitated, then wrapped his arms around his father, the most natural thing in the world for some. When he did, Nicholas finally let go. He buried his face in Christian's shoulder, his body shaking.
'Jasmine loves you, Nicholas. She has for a long time.' He spoke only loud enough for his father to hear over the rotor. 'And if you don't put your money on her pulling through this, she's gonna come back and kick your ass.'
His father's body shook even more. How much of it was laughing or crying, he didn't know or care.
