Vanishing Edge by Claire Kells

Author:Claire Kells
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

CHAPTER

19

AT FIRST GLANCE, it looked as though this unfortunate person had sought shelter in an unstable structure, as one particularly large beam was resting right on top of his thighs. Undeterred, Hux cleared the rubble like he was tossing sticks out of a sandbox. I stayed out of his way, deciding that my interference would do more harm than good. Somehow, he managed to clear the heavy pilings and fallen beams on his own, and he did it in under ten seconds.

I thought for sure we’d found a dead body, in part because of the rubble resting on top of it, but mostly because people who sought refuge in shelters like this didn’t last long. But then Hux felt for a pulse, and his eyes went wide. “He’s alive,” he said.

“He’s breathing?” A dumb question, but it was the first one that came to mind.

He nodded before turning back to the man—and it was a man, from the looks of him. I could tell by the size of his hiking boots. His face and hair were matted with dirt. He wasn’t conscious, or at least didn’t appear to be.

“Hey.” Hux shook the man’s arm. “Hey, you okay? Can you hear me?” There was no response. “He’s barely got a pulse,” Hux said. “I’d call MedEvac.”

While I rushed to unpack the first-aid kit, Hux performed an expedient but thorough initial assessment—known in the field as a primary survey. Once he’d ruled out a neck injury, he maneuvered the man onto his back to make it easier for him to breathe. His breaths were ragged and uneven, and I worried about them suddenly stopping altogether. But Hux, for his part, stayed calm and collected.

With Hux doing everything he could to keep the man alive, I used the sat phone to call Northern California’s Geographic Area Coordination Center, which dispatched MedEvac helicopters. From that point on, all we could do was wait. It was a long thirty minutes.

The deafening roar of a chopper’s rotors alerted us to their arrival. The paramedics met us out in the abandoned horse pen, and not long after that, Corrigan showed up, having taken to the trail on foot. The older ranger looked tired—weary from the nonstop activity, maybe. With a glance at Hux, who was updating the paramedics, he started walking toward me. I was knee-deep in charred rubble, searching for clues in the debris. The main thing I was after was a form of identification.

“Well,” Corrigan said by way of greeting, “this was unexpected.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Hux found him. He saw some footprints on the trail.”

Corrigan shook his head. “SAR told me they checked this area—checked it more than once, in fact. This poor sod couldn’t have been here long.” He tugged his hood over his forehead, shielding his face from the wind and rain. In the darkness, I couldn’t see much more than the whites of his eyes.

“Is this your guy, then?” Corrigan asked.

“We’ll see.”

“It’s gotta be him. It’s not like we get folks goin’ missing all the time out here.

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