Georgie worked with Josh, breathing through a face mask, breathing for Gus, but there was no change. During the flight they’d planned to establish an airway, make sure he had oxygen and get IV access. They hadn’t planned on resuscitating him.
Josh continued with chest compressions. Georgie continued breathing. There was no change. He still had no pulse.
‘I don’t think chest compressions are going to be enough,’ Georgie said. It had been more than three minutes and normal CPR procedure was getting them nowhere.
Josh nodded. ‘I’ll draw up adrenaline.’
On the assumption that doing something was better than nothing and knowing that chest compressions were more important than breathing, Georgie continued pumping Gus’s chest while Josh searched through the medical kit. He drew up a syringe and felt for a space between the ribs before he pierced the left side of Gus’s chest wall with the needle and depressed the plunger, injecting adrenaline directly into the heart muscle.
Georgie held her breath. Waiting. Her fingers on Gus’s carotid artery.
There was a flutter of a pulse.
‘We’ve got him.’
‘Get some oxygen into him.’
Georgie started breathing air into Gus again while Josh pulled an endotracheal tube and laryngoscope from the kit. It looked as though they’d be doing another intubation.
Georgie did two breaths. She had Gus’s head tipped back slightly and the fingers of her right hand were under his chin, resting over his carotid pulse. His pulse was barely evident. She stopped her breaths and shifted her fingers, searching for a stronger pulse. She couldn’t find it.
‘Josh, I’ve lost the pulse.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘NO, DAMN it.’ Josh turned away from the kit and back to Gus, kneeling over him, checking for a pulse. He trusted Georgie’s skill but he needed to double check for his own peace of mind. There was nothing. ‘Resuming CPR,’ he said as he began chest compressions again in a vain attempt to restart Gus’s heart. If the adrenaline hadn’t worked he knew it was unlikely anything else he did would have an effect, but he had to do something.
He worked hard for another minute. Another sixty compressions. There was no change.
He felt Georgie’s hands over his.
‘Josh, stop. His injuries are too massive. He’s not going to make it.’
He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t lose a patient today. He was in Cairns to get some pre-hospital experience but it was expected that he would be demonstrating his medical skills and performing well. Losing a patient on his first day was not part of his agenda.
He brushed Georgie’s hands away and continued. Sixty-one, sixty-two. Another sixty and then sixty more.
‘Josh, it’s too late,’ Georgie insisted. Her hands were back on top of his, stilling his movements. ‘It’s been too long.’
He listened then. He sat back on his heels, his hands resting on Gus’s chest, Georgie’s hands covering his. He could feel her hands shaking. Or maybe it was his. He couldn’t tell.
‘We’ve done everything we can,’ she told him.
He looked at her and he could see the bleakness of his own expression reflected in her chocolate-brown eyes. He could see she knew exactly how he felt.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘We want to save them all but sometimes we can’t. It’s just the way it is.’
He rubbed his eyes and the latex of the gloves pulled across his eyelids. He stripped the gloves from his hands and tossed them onto the pile of discarded face masks and syringe wrappings, the detritus of the action. He breathed deeply. He could smell dust and heat and perspiration. He exhaled loudly and breathed in again and this time he could smell honey and cinnamon, an already familiar scent, and he knew it came from Georgie. Sweet and fresh, it competed with the smell of defeat.
The other station hands had moved back, giving Georgie and Josh some room. He looked up at them. They were gathered together, supporting each other. They knew the battle had been lost. He stood and went to them.
‘I’m sorry. His injuries were too extensive. Even if you’d been closer to help, if we’d been able to get here faster, even then I doubt there’s anything we could have done.’ He knew his words would be of little consolation but he didn’t want them blaming themselves or wondering if they could have done more. Today was just one day out of hundreds just like it. There would have been many times when someone had travelled in the back of the ute without incident but today Gus’s luck had run out.
They stood in silence in the heat of the late afternoon. The bush was still, there was not a breath of wind and even the birds were quiet. Josh knew it was only the heat that was keeping the wild parrots mute but it felt like their silence was in deference to the situation.
In the distance he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. First one. Then another.
An ambulance pulled up, followed by a police car, their distinctive markings almost obliterated by red dust.
Josh spoke to the policeman. He spoke to the paramedics. He was operating on autopilot. Gus was pronounced dead. His body would be put into the ambulance and transported to the morgue. There was nothing left for him to do here.
Pat and Isaac were helping Georgie load the equipment back into the chopper. He left the police and paramedics to finish up and went to help his team.
‘Sorry, mate, tough day,’ Pat said as Josh returned to the chopper. Josh appreciated his sentiment. Pat hadn’t exaggerated the situation neither had he downplayed it, he’d said all that was necessary with those few words.
Josh climbed into the chopper and started securing the medical kits into position. The empty stretcher in front of his knees was a bleak reminder of what had happened. He unclipped one kit from a seat and strapped it onto the stretcher instead, partially covering the empty expanse. That was better. Less confronting.
The chopper lifted off the ground. As they banked to the east Josh could see the accident scene below them. The paramedics were closing the doors at the rear of the ambulance. The police were still speaking with the station hands. He closed his eyes, blocking out the tableau.
He should be saving lives in a big city hospital, with specialist help at hand and state-of-the-art equipment in place. He should be in control, not shooting adrenaline into a young man’s heart on a dirt track out the back of beyond. What a bloody mess.
What the hell was he doing here?
He kept his eyes closed until he knew they were far away from the cattle station. Far away from the ambulance that held Gus’s body. When he opened his eyes he kept his face turned to the window, his head turned away from Georgie. He didn’t want to make eye contact. He didn’t want to have a conversation. Not about what had transpired out in the red dirt. He knew he would have to think about it at some point. He’d have to fill in a medical report. A death certificate. But he didn’t want to discuss it yet.
Georgie was quiet. Perhaps she was lost in her own thoughts. Whatever the reason, he was relieved she didn’t seem to need to talk. Most women he knew would be attempting to have some sort of discussion, even if it was about nothing. The majority seemed to think that silence was there to be broken. He was pleased Georgie wasn’t one of them.
The silence wasn’t awkward. He knew she was there and knowing he wasn’t alone was somehow comforting. He couldn’t see her but he could feel her presence. He could smell her perfume, cinnamon and honey, warm and sweet.
He let the silence continue for the entire trip and it was after six in the evening and night had fallen before Pat started to guide the chopper down to the airport.