And she was supposed to keep him alive.
“We need to immobilize his head and neck as much as possible.”Meg began digging through her medical bag, pulling out the supplies she’d brought.She spread them on dry rock.
Not enough.
Never enough for something like this.
“I can make a cervical collar from…” She grabbed the cardboard packaging from her gauze supplies and began folding it along the creases.“It’s not ideal, but it’s something.”
“Good.”Noah glanced up, his hands still working the rope.“What else?”
The water had reached the medical bag now and soaked into the canvas bottom.Meg grabbed it, moved it to higher ground, and squelched through the water.Her heart hammered against her ribs.
How much time did they have?Minutes?An hour?
Noah had created something resembling a harness from his shirt and the rope.Crude, but functional.
“If we make a stretcher, we’ll never get him through some of those passages.They’re too narrow.”He met her eyes, his expression grim.“I’m going to have to carry him.”
“Carry him?”Meg’s voice pitched higher.“Noah, he probably weighs one-sixty, one-seventy.You can’t?—”
“Fireman carry.Over my shoulder.”Noah was already testing the harness and checking the knots.“I’ve done it in training.The harness will help distribute his weight, keep him stable against my back.”
Meg’s mind flooded with every complication.“His head will be hanging down.The increased intracranial pressure?—”
“Will be less of a problem than drowning.”Noah’s voice was firm but not unkind.“Meg, I know this isn’t ideal.I know it goes against everything you’ve learned.But we’re out of good options.”
She wanted to argue, to find another way.
But the sound of water splashing into the growing pool was getting louder.
She looked at the dark surface creeping toward them.
“Okay.”The word tasted like surrender.“Okay.But we do this my way.We immobilize him as much as humanly possible first.”
They worked quickly, their movements coordinated.Meg moved on autopilot even as her mind catalogued every risk—bleeding, swelling, paralysis.
She fashioned the makeshift cervical collar from the cardboard, measured it against Alex’s neck, and secured it with medical tape.Then she used their spare clothing to create padding—Noah’s jacket wrapped around Alex’s head and shoulders.
Noah pulled his shirt back on and began fitting the rope that ran through the sleeves so the weight would distribute across his shoulders and chest.
“Talk me through it.What do I need to watch for?”
“Any change in his breathing—rate, depth, anything.”Meg grabbed her stethoscope and listened to Alex’s chest.“His lungs are clear now, but if he vomits—and people with head injuries often do—he could aspirate.We’d need to turn him immediately to clear his airway.”
“Got it.”Noah tested the harness again, shifting his weight like a pack mule finding balance.“What else?”
“Try to keep his head as stable as possible, like he’s made of glass.No sudden movements.If you need to duck or climb, do it smoothly.”Meg heard the tremor creeping back into her voice and swallowed it down.“And if he wakes up and starts fighting?—”
“Then at least we’ll know he’s alive enough to fight.”Noah’s attempt at dark humor fell flat.
The water had spread farther.Now just inches from where Alex lay.Meg could see it advancing, the surface rippling with each new drop from the ceiling.
Her stomach clenched.
“We need to move him now.”She positioned herself at Alex’s shoulders.“On three we roll him toward you.Keep his head and neck aligned with his spine.Ready?”
“Ready.”
