Rose got to her feet, leaving Jack lying on the sidewalk. She had to find help.
No one was around. She looked up both sides of the street, but everyone had already left the area. A few cars remained undamaged, their owners having fled the destruction.
Looking around to make sure no was watching, Rose limped toward the nearest car. Its front passenger side window was shattered, but it was otherwise intact. Opening the door, she looked inside, hoping the owner had left the keys.
She was in luck. A pile of objects spilled from a purse lay on the floor of the front passenger side. Rummaging through it, Rose found the keys, then studied them, trying to figure out how to turn the car on.
The car was a Saturn, a late 1990’s model. Cal had owned a Saturn before he had traded up to a BMW, but he had never let her drive it. She did remember, though, that he had always waved something under the dashboard until a beeping noise was heard, then started the car. When simply putting the key in the ignition and trying to turn it didn’t work, Rose found the one thing on the key chain that felt like it might belong to the car and searched under the dashboard, trying to find whatever it was that would unlock the security system. Luck was with her when her fingers grazed a small piece of Velcro, then tentatively waved the rectangle of black plastic under it. The car beeped, and a moment later, she had the engine running.
Rose put the car in gear, backing it slowly in Jack’s direction. One of the headlights was broken, making it hard to see. She winced as she ran over a good-sized piece of broken pavement.
When she reached Jack, she threw open the front passenger side door and hurried to Jack’s side. He hadn’t stirred. Checking his pulse again, she bit her lip, worried. It had grown weaker while she was seeking help.
Rose tried to lift him, ignoring the blood that soaked his clothes and quickly stained her dress. Gripping him under the arms, she dragged him in the direction of the car. Despite his lanky build, he was heavy, his unconscious body a dead weight. Trying to ignore her aching ankle, Rose pulled him to the car and dragged him inside.
Slamming the door, Rose hurried around to the driver’s side. Jack slumped against the door, his head hanging forward. Rose checked his pulse again, her heart racing with alarm when she felt how cold and clammy his skin was. He was going into shock.
Shifting the car into drive, Rose moved through the broken streets as quickly as she could, heading in the direction that she had seen people moving in. Someone there might be able to help him.
As she steered around some live wires, Jack stirred, opening his eyes.
"Rose...what happened?" he asked, trying to sit up.
"Stay still!" she told him, afraid that movement would make the bullet wound worse. As they passed a still-glowing streetlight, Rose saw that back of the seat was stained with blood. How much blood could one person lose and still live?
"A piece of concrete fell on us while we were escaping from those fallen buildings," she told him.
"The buildings...right." He looked around, confused. "Where are we going?"
"Anywhere there’s people."
In the distance, the lights of two emergency vehicles could be seen. Rose sped up, then slammed on the brakes as a dog darted across the road.
Her arm flew out automatically, preventing Jack from hitting the dashboard. He slipped down, half lying between the seat and the floor. She cursed herself for not buckling him in.
"Your arm is bleeding," he told her, trying to sit back up.
She felt it, only then realizing that she had been injured by the falling concrete, too.
"It’ll heal." She steered around a tree that had fallen across the road. The emergency vehicles were only two blocks away now. Even at that distance, Rose could see that rescue efforts were already underway for one of the residential neighborhoods.
"Turn on the heater; it’s cold."
Rose looked at him, realizing that he was shivering violently, despite the pleasantness of the night weather. "You’re in shock," she told him, batting his hand away as he tried to reach for the temperature controls. Heat could make the bleeding worse.
"No wonder...I’m dying, aren’t I?"
"No!" she told him, trying to believe it herself. Her voice gave away her doubts. They both knew how seriously he was injured.
He was silent for a moment. Rose looked at him, fearing he had lost consciousness again—or worse. Then he spoke to her.
"I better tell you now...I love you."
"Jack, no. You’re going to be okay. Don’t give up," she pleaded, pulling the car to a stop. A police officer came toward her, gesturing for her to move the car out of the street. She shook her head, indicating Jack.
An EMT came forward, opening the front passenger side door. Jack nearly fell from the car before the man caught him, shouting orders when he saw the seriousness of Jack’s condition.
Rose stumbled from the car, forgetting that she was supposed to move it out of the way. Someone had brought a stretcher for Jack, and people already surrounded him, working frantically to save his life.
Rose watched, helplessly, as someone brought out life support equipment. She overheard the officer radioing for an airlift.
"What’s going on?" Rose asked, staggering over.
"We can’t take of his injuries here; he’s going to be airlifted to Memorial Hospital in Southland. Sit down," the cop ordered her.
Rose hadn’t realized how badly she was shaking. The adrenaline that had kept her going was wearing off. Her ankle gave out halfway down, sending her crashing to the pavement.
Examining her ankle, Rose was surprised to discover that it had swollen to nearly twice its normal size. She had been able to ignore it while she sought help for Jack, but now the pain nearly overwhelmed her.
She looked up in surprise as someone brought over an Ace bandage and began to wrap her injured foot. Someone else had moved the car out of the way and shut it off. Rose looked over at Jack.
"Is he going to be okay?" Her eyes were pleading.
"We’re doing all we can."
It wasn’t encouraging. As soon as her ankle was wrapped, Rose got to her feet. She could see the helicopter approaching overhead as she limped toward Jack.
Someone tried to keep her back. Rose struggled, trying to reach him. As the helicopter landed, they finally let her go.
Rose fell to her knees beside Jack. "Jack! Jack, please, it’s going to be okay." He lay quietly, his eyes closed. Someone tried to pull her away. Rose gripped Jack’s hand. "I love you, Jack."
His only response was a slight tightening of his hand around hers, just enough to let her know that he had heard her.
Someone from the helicopter began moving the stretcher toward it. Rose didn’t move from where she was kneeling. Tears streamed down her face as she watched them loading the stretcher into the helicopter. She paid no attention as the cop talked quietly to the person who had wrapped her ankle. Then, to her surprise, someone picked her up.
"You’re going, too," they told her. "Your ankle needs an X-ray, and that cut on your arm will probably need stitches." She found herself deposited inside the helicopter. The EMT was still working with Jack, trying to stem the bleeding from the wound in his back.
She looked at him; his face was grim. And Rose knew that things were very bad.