2. Prescription For Love

“I understand.” Abby tugged on the gloves, just as she did when preparing for the arrival of a trauma patient in the ER. No matter what was coming, no matter what she needed to do, she’d do it. She didn’t think about time, or how much was passing. She didn’t let the cold or the pain from bruised shins, sore shoulders, or aching muscles distract her. She forced herself to go slow, lifting broken tree limbs, splintered boards, and sheets of crumpled tin, one piece at a time. Harper worked silently beside her, bracing the sides of the emerging tunnel with chunks of wood as they slowly made their way toward the upright.

“How are you doing?” Harper called when they’d cleared an area three feet wide and five feet long.

“Your light is brighter,” Margie called back.

“Good. Don’t try to move anything from your side until we tell you to.”

A sharp creaking sound emanated from somewhere inside the building and a shower of slate cascaded off the collapsed roof. Harper grabbed Abby and pulled her back. Stone splintered around them, and the building shuddered. Rock chips flew, several scoring Abby’s bare legs. She gasped, waiting for the pile in front of them to rain down on the kids and Flann. The upright shuddered but nothing shifted.

“Everybody all right?” Harper called.

“It’s getting a little tight in here,” Flann called back. “It sounds like you’re only a few feet away.

I’d make haste.”

Harper smiled grimly and yelled back, “You always were impatient. Just relax, and everybody stay still.” She glanced at Abby and murmured, “Go as quickly as you can.”

Abby crushed the urge to yank half-buried boards out of the way. Look, evaluate, assess. Just like in the ER. When you rushed, you missed things. Lift, carry, throw. She kept at it, shoulder to shoulder with Harper.

Presley climbed down to join them, carrying sweatshirts. “You two should put these on—you’re both soaking wet. I put blankets in the ATV for the others.”

Abby welcomed the warmth, not realizing she’d been cold until she wasn’t any longer.

“Any news?” Harper asked, going back to work.

“Cell reception is spotty. I couldn’t reach your parents or the hospital, but I got a couple of others on the emergency communications tree who will start calling everyone to report to the hospital. I need to go too, as soon as we get them out.” “We’re close now,” Abby said.

“I can see shadows moving,” Margie yelled.

Relief poured through Abby’s chest so fast she felt light-headed. “Soon!”

“Almost there,” Harper said. “Are we coming right for you?”

“A little to your left.”

“Okay. Don’t move yet.”

Abby lifted aside a two-by-four and cried out. A hand appeared in the space she’d made. Small and pale and beautiful. She knelt, grasped the fingers. “Margie?” “Hi, Abby,” Margie called back.

“Almost there, sweetie. Just another minute.”

Abby hated to let go of those fingers, but she had to. Harper crouched beside her and they passed rubble back to Presley, cleared a path until Margie’s face appeared at the end of the tunnel. Her face was streaked with dirt and a purple bruise blossomed on her left cheek. Her eyes were dry, and her smile wide.

“Can I come out now?”

“Nice and easy,” Harper said.

Margie shimmied toward them, arms outstretched. When her shoulders appeared, Abby and Harper grabbed on and pulled her all the way out.

“Presley, take her to the ATV and get her warm,” Harper said.

“I can help—”

“Go. Don’t get any wetter than you already are.”

Reluctantly, Margie let Presley lead her up the slope to the vehicle.

Abby inched deeper into the tunnel. “Blake, can you see the way?”

Blake’s head appeared in the tunnel. His hair was caked with dirt and blood smeared the side of his neck. Not much blood, but the sight of it made Abby bite her lip. She forced a smile.

“Hi, baby.”

“Jeez, Mom, come on,” Blake said, his eyes shining.

“Sorry, I forgot. Come on out of there.”

“Here

” Blake pushed the partially crumpled cardboard box out first. “Be careful they don’t get wet.”

Abby’s throat closed and she nodded, passing the chicks back to Presley. “Now you.”

Abby held her breath as he inched toward them. His shoulder dislodged a board and several more sluiced down from the heap. Abby twisted aside as one barely missed her head. Blake’s eyes widened.

“Mom?”

“It’s okay,” Harper said. “Keep coming.”

Abby reached for his hand and, when she clasped his fingers, fought the urge to pull him all the way out. She let him come to her, but it was the longest wait she’d ever experienced. At last he was free, and she hugged him close, checking him with quick strokes for damage.

“I’m good, Mom,” Blake finally said, pulling away.

“Go get in the ATV with Margie. You kids try to keep warm.”

Blake didn’t move. “What about Flann—”

“We’ll get her,” Abby said. “Go on now.”

Blake looked back one last time, then stumbled over the littered ground to the ATV. Margie held out a hand and he climbed in next to her, sliding his arm around her shoulders. They cradled the box between them, their heads close.

“Flann, your turn,” Harper called.