Burn Zone, page 23
part #1 of Hotshots Series
“Trying.” Linc sloshed through the water with more effort.
“Let us carry you.” Cyrus nodded at Jacob, who was quick to agree.
“Yeah. It’s the best option and you know it.” And Jacob being Jacob, he didn’t wait for Linc to come to terms with this change of circumstances, simply scooping him up along with Cyrus in an impressively coordinated chair carry. And then they were on the move, it glaringly obvious how much Jacob had been holding back to keep up with Linc and the crutch as he and Cyrus easily plowed through the water. They made up ground with the sort of determination most recruits reserved for their first timed pack-out test.
Meanwhile, Linc struggled to keep his pride in check. It was one thing to know he might have to be stretchered out and another to be bodily carried, realizing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to make this easier on Jacob and Cyrus who were both huffing with exertion. And yeah his head still ached, but he was conscious enough of every movement, every bounce and jostle. But then they caught up to the stretcher, and one look at Garrick put all that pride to shame. This was nothing. A little indignity, but he wasn’t complaining, not with his friend fighting for his life right next to him.
“I hear something!” Jacob’s voice was breathless but excited. “What’s the word from Command?”
“ETA five minutes,” the comm set reported, Ray’s voice even more filled with static. “The creek widens a little around this bend, and that will give them enough room for a tight landing.”
The drone of an incoming helicopter increased as they all sped up, the sound giving everyone a renewed burst of energy. They reached the wide, flat section of creek bank, and after setting Linc next to Garrick, the rest quickly prepped for the helicopter landing.
“Hang in there,” he said to Garrick, trying to summon all of Jacob’s usual upbeat energy. “Come on, buddy, just a little longer.”
“Yup.” Jacob came to crouch in front of Linc. “Listen, here’s the deal. And you can’t have a fit, okay?”
“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.
“Because of how bad off Garrick is and because there’s seven of us to evac, they’re updating the plan. They’re sending a second chopper. First chopper’s going straight to the hospital in Bend. Cyrus and Duski want you on that chopper—no one likes the look of your head bump even if you are talking okay. We’ve all seen latent head injuries go bad fast. You need checking out.”
“And you too. Your wrist—”
“Is fine. Even after carrying your ass, I’m fine.” He gave Linc a hint of a rascally grin. “Just a sprain.”
“You need an X-ray.”
“And I’ll get one if the medics say so.” Jacob kept his voice low and patient. “But they’re balancing loads, and I’m on the second chopper. No fits, remember?
“Fuck. Jacob.” He held Jacob’s gaze, trying to get him to see reason, knowing it was pointless, but needing to try nonetheless. “If the fire shifts... If they can’t get a second chopper in...”
“We’ve got our shelters. We’re near the water. And I’m tough.”
“You’re...” My heart. My everything. The words were right there, but then Jacob looked away.
“Here it comes!” he shouted, standing up, helicopter noise increasing now, drowning out whatever Linc might have tried to say. To Linc, Jacob nodded. “Just trust me, man.”
“I do. Always. Find me. After.” Linc had to yell to be heard.
“Always.”
And then Jacob was gone, rushing over to the others as the chopper swooped low. Garrick was loaded first, two uniformed medics taking charge of his stretcher. Next Linc was transferred to a second gurney, leg strapped up. They were airborne almost before he had a chance to grab a breath, Jacob a pale dot on the creek bank, Linc’s heart left right there next to him. The crew working on Garrick kept up a constant chatter of medical jargon, but all Linc could focus on was the smoky canopy beneath them. If the fire took Jacob...
God, he couldn’t even finish that thought. Not before they talked. Not before he made things right. Not before he said all the things. Every thought Jacob hadn’t let him finish and all the others rattling around in his increasingly foggy brain. So much left unsaid. All he needed was a chance. A chance for Jacob and the crew left behind. A chance for himself. And a chance for them, a chance that maybe everything wasn’t already lost.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jacob hadn’t let Linc complete any of what he’d wanted to say. He’d had good reasons for not wanting to hash things out in the middle of a crisis, not wanting Linc to say things he’d later regret. However, as he watched the chopper leave, all those missing words loomed large in his mind.
Be okay, Linc. We’ll talk later, he promised the ashy sky as the helicopter disappeared over the horizon, and the rest of them settled in to wait for the second evac attempt. And for all he’d been short with Linc, he did intend to have the sort of lay-it-all-out conversation they were way overdue. He wasn’t giving up Linc without a fight, but he also couldn’t deny that he was still hurt and angry and frustrated and not sure he could trust heat-of-the-moment apologies. If Linc said what he most wanted to hear and then took it back...
Well, he simply wasn’t sure he could cope with that. The thought alone made his wrist ache worse and made his stomach churn to the point that when he was offered a protein bar he had to decline. He’d let his fears keep Linc at bay, and now that he was faced with the very real possibility of never hearing what he’d been about to say, he was almost sick with longing. Fucking fickle brain.
The helplessness of the wait got to him too. There was not much any of them could do to increase their chances of rescue. They were at the mercy of the wind and the fire, and they had to trust the other crews to do their best with the unpredictable conditions. After two aborted helicopter landing attempts, he wasn’t surprised when the call came down from Command to pack out farther, another long slog of hoping Linc was okay and that Garrick was alive. Everyone was similarly somber, not much small talk as they pressed on.
At the second extraction point, word came that Garrick had been stabilized in Bend and was on a life flight to Portland for further surgery. No word whether he’d lost the leg—Jacob knew he’d done the right thing with the tourniquet but it also increased the risk of amputation and permanent damage the longer it was in place. And no word about Linc’s condition either. Jacob presumed he wasn’t on the life flight, but there was a wide range between life-threatening beyond what the regional hospital could handle and out of danger entirely. He’d promised Linc he’d go to him, and he intended to keep that promise, but it was another two evacuation tries before he was en route to base on a bumpy ride over a fire that was increasingly contained, no thanks to the wind.
Then after the world’s fastest shower and clothing change, he had a debriefing with Sims and Alder about what had gone so wrong.
“Any new word on Nelson?” he asked cautiously as their questions came to an end.
“Touch and go.” Sims’s face was grave, her usual sternness blanketed with a heavy layer of concern. “His family’s been reached. We’ve got a retired jumper driving his father up to Portland, and his mother and sister are coming from Eugene.”
“And Li—Reid?”
“At the hospital in Bend. Ray’s family is seeing to his dogs. Speaking of Bend, we need to get your wrist x-rayed, no matter what you say about it being minor. It’s too late for the urgent care here in town. I’m heading to Bend to check on Reid. I’ll drop you at the ER.” She nodded like this plan was entirely reasonable, which it was, but hell if Jacob could rush to Linc with his boss on his heels. He’d have to actually go through the motions of getting his wrist looked at and hope for a sliver of quiet moment when he could see Linc.
“Do you want to call your mother now or after we know more?” Sims’s voice wasn’t without compassion as they made their way to the vehicles.
“After.” He didn’t need Mom freaking out quite yet. Not before he saw Linc. If he called her, she’d come right away, and then he’d be that much further from being alone with Linc. Besides, he’d much rather call with a report that his wrist was a minor sprain and that Linc and Garrick were out of the woods than with a lot of uncertainties.
“Fair enough.” Like the rescue crew out in the field, Sims wasn’t inclined to chitchat on the drive to Bend, which was helpful as night finally fell and the long day didn’t appear anywhere near over. While they drove, a call came in that Garrick was still in surgery in Portland, still fighting for his life, but holding steady.
“My X-rays can probably wait,” he said to Sims after the call ended, the urge to be near Linc reaching overwhelming levels, even if it meant sharing him with others and not being able to speak freely.
“Nope.” Her reply was pretty much as he expected. “I’ve seen permanent nerve and ligament damage from delayed treatment on what looked like a minor injury before. Tell you what, I’ll text you what I find out on Reid.”
“Thanks.” It was something at least, but it was cold comfort for a long wait in the ER where he was understandably low priority on a busy night with multiple smoke inhalation cases and the usual assortment of car accidents and other injuries.
“It’s a sprain,” he confidently told the young female doctor when he was finally shown to a cubicle. “I’ll be back on the job shortly, no problem. Maybe we don’t need to bother with radiology? Just give me a splint?”
He’d heard enough from the nurses to know that X-rays were another lengthy wait, but the doctor just clucked and muttered something about hairline fractures before ordering X-rays. His phone finally buzzed with a message from Sims while he was cooling his heels, waiting to be taken to radiology.
Reid is stable. Being kept for concussion observation. Room 218. How’s the wrist?
Well, that wasn’t much to go on, but he supposed it was better than nothing. And now he had a room number at least. Heck, he was tempted to ditch the X-rays and head right there, but then the orderly showed up to escort him to radiology. Resigning himself to more waiting, he kept refreshing his phone after replying to Sims, but no more news came in about either Garrick or Linc.
And when the doctor came back in with an imposing black rigid cast with Velcro straps, he didn’t even protest too much.
“I can’t believe you hauled your buddy how far?” The doctor shook her head as she applied the cast. It was a damn fracture after all. Barely even a line on the X-ray and it didn’t seem worth the cast to him, but he accepted it with a minimum of grumbling because it got him out of there faster.
Finally, he was on his way to room 218, which he was relieved to see was not an ICU room, just an ordinary hospital room, and as he reached the right number, he almost ran into Sims.
“I see I was right about the break.” She nodded at his arm. “You need a ride back to base? Or your mom’s house?”
“Uh...” Fuck. He needed to see Linc. But there were some things he couldn’t confess to Sims.
Sims released a tired sigh like she didn’t have time for his fumblings. “Or you think you can arrange a ride? I figure you’re chomping at the bit to see for yourself that Reid’s in one piece.”
“Yeah. I’ll work something out.” He seized the opening like a life buoy, not disagreeing that he needed to see Linc.
“I stayed while they were running various tests, but he seems done for the time being with that. He’s supposed to be resting, but I suppose you might be the right kind of distraction.”
Right kind of distraction. Jacob had to smile because that pretty much summed up his summer thus far. Not that he could admit that to her.
“I won’t keep him up,” he promised. “And I know you want to get back yourself. It was a long day for all of us. I’ll figure out something.”
“That it was.” She rubbed her temples. “And it’s not over yet. I don’t know much—HIPAA and all that—but Nelson is in ICU now in Portland with chances high that he’ll need further surgery sooner rather than later.”
“At least he’s alive.” Jacob chose to cling to that ray of hope.
“Yes, there is that. And you’re on medical leave until we can figure out some light duty for you. So don’t worry about clocking in tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He honestly wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not. He mostly wanted to be here with Linc, but part of him felt like he was letting his crew down, not being able to go out with them, see this fire through. Hopefully he’d be well enough for some mop-up duty.
Once Sims was on her way, he took a minute to take a deep breath, steeling himself for seeing Linc, for the talk they needed to have, but also for all his mixed emotions—relief that he wasn’t more seriously hurt, guilt that it was saving Jacob that had injured him, hurt that it took near-death to get Linc willing to talk in the first place, and a bunch of other things he was refusing to label. His shoulders tensed and despite the late hour, his nerves clanged with leftover adrenaline.
The nearest bed in the room was empty, curtain pulled back, and a weary-looking Linc in the second bed. Jacob’s eyes burned, and he had to lean into the wall, stop himself from rushing to him.
“You awake?” he asked, voice rough.
“Thought I might have heard your voice.” Even with his tired eyes and pale skin, Linc still managed half of a smile. He gestured at Jacob’s arm. “What’s with the new accessory? Wasn’t that you who was rather insistent that you weren’t hurt?”
“Yeah. Apparently, I’m a crappy judge of a non-displaced scaphoid fracture.”
“Damn it. I’m sorry.”
“You saved my freaking life. I’ll take the broken wrist.” He shrugged, not wanting to dwell on the injury, and not wanting Linc to feel guilty about it either. “It’ll heal. They say I probably won’t need surgery for it. Tell me about your leg?”
“Sims didn’t tell you?” Linc groaned and gestured at his strapped-up leg, which was propped up on pillows. “Sprained ankle. But the knee... It’s my ACL.”
“Oh, fuck.” Jacob had been around sports enough years to know that injury always sucked. “All those years of work and jumps, and one lunging tackle did it? Damn. I guess you’re lucky football didn’t do you in. Surgery?”
“Yeah. That’s coming. It’s not the worst type of complete tear, but they still want surgery. I’m on concussion observation first. They say I got away with a mild one, but they’re being cautious.”
“Good.” Jacob dragged one of the visitor chairs over to the bed, not wanting to continue to loom over Linc, and also not being in a hurry to leave. “You let them be cautious. That bump still looks nasty.”
“Yeah. Ruined my chances of modeling.” Linc laughed, then grimaced. “Only bad part of being under observation is they’re limited in what they can give me for the knee right now.”
“I’m sorry. Fucking sucks. I’d give anything...” Jacob sighed and shook his head. “You saved my life, like I said. And now...surgery. And then recovery. It’s not fair.”
“Fuck that talk. Not fair is Garrick right now. This...” Linc pointed at his leg. “Is nothing. I’ll be back out there. Eventually. And if it saved you, I’d give both knees. Hell, take a kidney. You safe is everything. I wasn’t going to let those branches take you out. Not before...”
And there they were, back to the whole need-to-talk thing.
“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he said gruffly.
“Yeah, you were.” Linc’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “And with good reason. Like you said... I was a cowardly bastard.”
“Maybe not quite that.” Jacob winced at his own words. “And maybe I was a little hasty with the ultimatums. And maybe now isn’t the time to rehash all of that. What matters is that you’re okay.”
“No, what matters is that I hurt you.” Linc stretched out a hand. Jacob spared a glance at the door before taking it. “And I’m sorry.”
“You did. But I don’t want you all worked up over that tonight.”
“Maybe I do.” Linc made a frustrated noise. “Damn it, why won’t you let me apologize?”
“Because perhaps it’s not needed? I mean, I appreciate you being sorry. But I also see now that I can’t make you feel things that maybe you don’t. Can’t force you to change your priorities. And it’s not just about me. I get that I can’t make you choose me, but I also can’t seem to make you choose yourself.”
And that right there was why he hadn’t wanted this conversation earlier. Still didn’t want it. Wasn’t sure how he got to a place where he could trust Linc’s apology or accept it, because if nothing real was going to change, maybe it didn’t matter how bad Linc felt about hurting him. As he tried to figure out how to explain that, his phone buzzed at the same time as Linc’s.
“Garrick,” they said in unison, a joint prayer lifted up, cutting through their disagreement. But when Jacob checked his phone, the message was from his mom.
“Fuck. My mom just heard about Garrick and the accident. She’s pissed.”
“Uh-huh.” Linc groaned. “Blowing up my phone too. Wants assurances that we’re okay.”
“I better call her in a minute.” He typed out a fast reply to that effect. “I’m telling her we’re okay, but she’s gonna want to hear my voice.”
“Are we?” Linc’s eyes were serious. “Are we okay? I know you need to call her, but I don’t like leaving things like this. You’ve put me off all day, tried to keep me from telling you that I want another shot. Give me a chance to make things right. Please.”
“This is near-death talk. You’re full of regrets and reflection right now, but you don’t really want...” He trailed off, unable to keep voicing his deepest fears, even as part of him thrilled to Linc’s words.
“I love you.” Linc’s tone was deadly serious, eyes hard. “And I knew that before today, so stop with me not knowing my mind.”
