Today’s rain on top of snowmelt overflowing the reservoir upstream had the river they were following swollen well beyond its banks. The crossing road was set lower than County Roads 3 and 5 that it connected. It provided a shortcut for those wanting to go to Breckenridge without having to drive six miles farther south to get on Highway 9. Had the mother been in a hurry or just didn’t anticipate how deep and fast the water over the roadway was? Unfortunately, the latter happened way too often.
Would the neighboring county’s crew make it in time with their boats? While Aspen Corners and their county didn’t have a designated water-rescue team, they would be able to arrive on scene twenty minutes faster than Platte County would.
Everyone in the cab of the ladder truck remained serious and quiet the rest of the way as Rafe monitored radio traffic. Each crew member prepared in his own way for what they’d find when they arrived. The pounding rain on the windshield made visibility difficult. The wipers could barely keep up, but Brad drove on relentlessly and soon delivered them safely to the scene.
First on the scene, the Aspen Corners ambulance parked closer to where the crossing road began on the western side of the river. The ladder truck maneuvered into the parking area next to the river where the ground was stable enough to set the jacks. Platte County’s crew hadn’t arrived yet but members of the rescue squads on the opposite side of the river were busy preparing rope lines to be secured between the two divisions when ready. He recognized volunteer SAR members on both banks. Tony might have volunteered with them if he hadn’t been at the station.
He caught his first glimpse of the SUV in the middle of the rising river, its hood pointed southward in the direction of the river’s flow. Tony’s division was closer to the target. After a quick visual assessment, Brad assured Rafe the aerial ladder would be able to reach the occupants of the SUV.
While Brad set the jacks to stabilize the apparatus, Tony donned his dry suit, personal flotation device, and helmet while glancing out at the terrified face of the stranded mother. Divisions on either side of the river had been established.
“Division One to BC: We are set and ready to extend the ladder,” Rafe relayed minutes later to the battalion chief. So they were the first.
Over the radio, the BC asked their counterparts, “Division Two, are you set up and ready?”
The woman’s screams for help rammed against his brain; she seemed to be staring straight at Tony. Despite being seated on the roof, giving her and the toddler a low center of gravity, with each shout, the two slipped closer to the edge of the rain-soaked roof.
The EMT yelled at her to move to the middle of the roof and remain as still as possible. Tony snapped out of it, and he and Rafe worked feverishly with Michael’s help to get their individual safety lines into place. Everything took so much damned time, but safety had to be their first priority.
Just as Tony took a look inside the vehicle to ascertain if there were any other victims, the BC reported no one else was inside. Good, because water from the rising river was now halfway up the driver’s window and inching higher with every passing minute. The mother had been right to escape the interior in order to buy herself and her child more time, but how much longer would they be able to hold on before being rescued?
Brad climbed up onto the apparatus to use the controls to extend the ladder up and out of its cradle. Adrenaline pumped through Tony’s veins as his safety line was at last secured to the command vehicle, which was parked sideways in the lot behind the ladder truck. The engineer rotated the table and extended the ladder toward the rear of the stranded vehicle.
The EMT handed Tony two PFD vests, one for the mother and one for her daughter. Tony ran his left hand through the armholes of the two and awaited orders.
With the ladder fully extended in a downgrade position six feet behind and a few feet above the target, Rafe said, “Head out, Tony.”
With a nod, Tony climbed onto the ladder, holding onto the beams as he began steadily making his way step by step toward the stranded SUV. He saw even less of the cab since they’d arrived on scene.
The lady appeared to be in her mid-twenties, light blue eyes, and wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt—no coat or jacket. She clutched her toddler in the cradle of her lap, both arms wrapped tightly around her while leaning over to keep the rain off the tiny girl. The little girl was dressed no warmer. Dark hair plastered to her face, her lips were turning blue as she shivered in the cool mountain air. The water they’d been submerged in minutes earlier was probably in the forties, if not colder. With so little body mass, it wouldn’t take much for hypothermia to set in. Hell, the mother didn’t have any extra weight on her, either.
Time was of the essence.
“Save my baby first!” The mother’s frantic plea cut him to the core. Her pale, freckled face was in stark contrast to her bright orange Broncos tee.
He didn’t intend to lose either of them.
Almost there—
In a calm, reassuring voice, Tony said, “Hang on, ma’am. We’ll have you both out of there soon.”
Rung by rung, he and Rafe drew closer. The gooseflesh on the woman’s arms spoke volumes as to how cold she must be, too, as she tried to take the brunt of the elements and protect her daughter. The toddler started to whimper when Tony was about seven feet away. He began moving a little faster.
“Take your time, Tony,” Rafe cautioned. “You’re almost there.”
The
