floor but now it was trying to walk through the debris, tilting ominously as it rocked from side to side.
Was the solid wood of the desktop going to be enough to protect them if the fridge fell over? Was the building going to stay upright? Vicious sounds of windows exploding and a scream from the waiting room gave Abby another surge of adrenaline, and it was then that the first shaft of pure fear sliced through her.
‘Hang on,’ she told Ruth. ‘It’s got to stop. It’ll be okay.’
Who was she trying to reassure? The terrified mother who was clutching her infant with one arm and hanging on to a leg of the desk with the other? The small boy in her own arms, who was rigid with terror?
Herself?
All of them. It felt like this was never going to stop. The floor was tilting beneath them and still things were coming off the walls and shelves above, like the framed certificates that showed the qualifications Abby had worked so hard for. Heavy medical textbooks and the plastic models of joints that she used for educational purposes. Her whole world seemed to be literally crashing down around her.
And then, finally, it began to fade. The shaking stopped. The roaring noise and the sound of things breaking stopped.
Even the sound of her own breathing stopped.
Abby had never heard a silence quite like this.
Heavy.
Dead.
The moment when the world changed irrevocably.
And that was the moment that real fear took hold. When it had all stopped but you couldn’t know if it was about to start again.
Or what had happened to everybody else.
Oh, God … Jack …
CHAPTER TWO
THE PILOT TOOK the rescue helicopter in a long, slow sweep over the length of Kaimotu as they made their final approach.
Most of the island appeared to be covered in native bush with little in the way of buildings. Housing was concentrated along the longest stretch of beach and the hills at one end. This was where the wharf was located and the community’s centre, which contained the public buildings, including schools and business premises.
It was also where the major damage from the earthquake had been focused according to the patchy reports that had been coming in for nearly two hours now. The tremor that Tom and his colleagues had felt had indeed been the tail end of something much bigger. A seven point four earthquake with its epicentre right beneath Kaimotu Island. Probably right beneath its most densely populated area at this time of day, unfortunately. Reports contained the information that there were a lot of people injured. Possibly trapped in collapsed buildings.
The landing coordinates were for the field close to the medical centre, which was often used for evacuations from the island. This was the first time Tom had ever been here but it was hard to appreciate the natural beauty of the isolated island with the amount of adrenaline he had coursing through his body. Exchanging a glance with Frank as they hovered over the centre of the tiny township, where the buildings had taken the brunt of the damage, he could see that his mate was as wired as he was.
Here they were, the first responders, quite possibly the only responders for some time, and they were facing what was probably going to be the biggest job of their careers.
‘There it is.’ The voice of Moz, the pilot, sounded deceptively calm. ‘The medical centre. Hang on to your hats, boys. Let’s get this baby on the ground.’
In their bright red overalls, still wearing their white helmets with the rescue service insignia on the front, hefting only their backpacks full of emergency gear, Tom and Frank ducked beneath the slowing rotors and ran for the steps leading up to the modern buildings attached to the old, wooden hospital. A sign indicated that this was the island’s medical centre—the place they’d been instructed to report to first.
Even before they got through the door they could see the place was crowded. There were people milling around inside and out and the veranda of the old hospital was packed.
It had been two hours since the quake had struck. The initial tsunami warning had been cancelled when it had become clear that the quake hadn’t been centred out at sea. Were people staying on higher ground anyway, just in case?
How many of the walking wounded had made it this far? How many had been carried here? Tom had no idea what was available in terms of medical staff and resources. He had to hope that somebody competent had taken charge and would be able to fill him in. Where would they be needed most? How on earth would they even begin to triage this situation?
The waiting room was packed to the gills. The sound of children crying and the sight of so many pale, frightened people galvanised Tom into action.
‘Who’s in charge here?’ he asked the person closest to the door, a middle-aged woman who was holding a bloodstained dressing against long grey hair that was matted with blood.
‘The nurse. A— Ahhh …’ The word turned into a shriek of fear as the building shook. Children screamed. Somebody tried to push past Tom to get to the door. Everybody else was moving now, too. Gathering children into their arms and either crouching over them or turning to flee.
Tom turned to say something to Frank but all he could manage was a quiet but fervent oath. The aftershock was over almost as soon as it had begun but his heart was still picking up speed as he surveyed the room, wondering if the building was about to come down on them all.
‘It’s just an aftershock.’ The clear notes of a woman’s voice cut through the sounds of panic. ‘We have to expect them. You’re all safe in here. Mike and Don have checked the building. It’s solid.’
‘Who are Mike and Don?’ Frank’s query came as Tom tried to see past all the people and find the woman who’d spoken. There was something about that voice that had made his gut tighten instantly. Sent a tingle down the length of his spine. ‘And where are they now?’
‘Let’s find out.’ Taking a step forward, Tom found a space magically clearing, the way it usually did when they arrived on scene. They had come to help. They knew what they were doing. Their arrival was always welcome.
He could see the back of the woman now. A long blond braid hung down over a navy blue uniform. Tom felt that kick in his guts again but the sight of long blond hair always did that to him, didn’t it? Ever since … ever since …
Abby …
‘It’s definitely broken,’ he heard her tell a teenage boy as she finished winding a crepe bandage to hold a cardboard splint in place on his arm.
Now that her name was filling his head, it was easy to recognise that voice. Clear, soft notes that got a husky little edge to them when she was stressed. Or when she was.
No. Tom had to force that particular association out of his mind as fast as it had entered but it was by no means easy because there was a husky edge to her voice right now.
‘It won’t hurt so much now it’s immobilised but I’m sorry, Sean—there’s nothing more I can do right now. We’ll all have to wait until help arrives.’
‘It’s here,’ the boy told her, staring up at Tom, his eyes wide. ‘Right behind you.’
The woman rose to her feet in a graceful movement, turning at the same time. Tom could clearly see the relief in her eyes as she registered the bright uniforms of the helicopter crew. And then he saw the shock as she caught his gaze.
As she recognised him.
‘Oh, my God … Tom …?’
The shock was mutual. Tom had thought that being on an island in the aftermath of a massive earthquake was the only thing he’d be expected to have to deal with.
But he’d been so wrong.
Seeing