The excitement drained from her face and a hint of colour crept into her cheeks. Mikki dropped her gaze instantly, presumably thinking she could disguise her disappointment, and her tone was light as she un-clipped the harness.
‘That’s cool. There’s plenty I can do here, I expect.’
Dammit. Did she have to be so reasonable? Tama strode into the mess room to pull on his overalls. Josh was a step ahead of him.
‘Just a prang,’ he told Tama. ‘Roadside. Easy landing.’
‘No winching, then?’ Mikki was watching Josh but Tama saw the way her gaze slid towards the peg that her own overalls were hanging on.
‘Not this time.’
Now Tama could feel Mikki’s gaze on him. A silent query this time but one that would need a different explanation to cover his refusal. He could come up with several.
Like not knowing where gear was, for example, when it might be needed in a hurry. Say … a suction kit. Having to take the time to make sure she was following protocols regarding crew safety when his attention would be better spent on the patient. She might argue, of course, but that would be good. He’d rather see her angry than disappointed. He doubted very much that he would see any expression of defeat, however.
Did he want to?
Yes. No.
This was confusing. Having Mikki here was distracting and confusing and Tama didn’t like it one little bit. The only saving grace was that it was temporary. And the sooner she got her damned qualification, the sooner she would be out of his place of work and his life.
She was still staring at him.
‘Fine.’ Tama kept his gaze on the zip he was pulling closed. ‘You can come. But you’ll have to do exactly what you’re told, when you’re told. Got it?’
‘Got it.’ Mikki was already halfway into her overalls. ‘Hey, Tama?’
‘What?’ Both the tone and the eye contact were reluctant.
Her smile was almost shy. ‘Thanks.’
His only response was a grunt as he jammed his helmet over his head. What was it about this princess? How could just a smile—and not even a real one at that—stir some odd sensation in his gut?
He couldn’t identify the sensation but it made him feel … bigger somehow. Important. Powerful, even.
Confusing, that’s what it was all right.
And Tama James did not like feeling confused.
This was so exciting!
Mikki would have hugged herself with the sheer thrill of it all but imagine if Tama saw that? He’d already caught her stroking her new overalls like some dreamy bride mooning over her confection of a frock.
She kept herself very, very still in her seat, thankful no one could see what was happening inside. The way her heart lifted to her mouth to mirror the helicopter rising into the air and then beat a tattoo against her ribs as they took off into a clear, blue sky. The way her stomach swooped and clenched when they hit some turbulence.
Don’t be sick, she begged silently. Please!
‘You all right?’ Tama was giving her a suspicious look. Had he guessed her inner turmoil and the very real possibility that her stomach might not cope?
‘I’m good,’ Mikki assured him. And she was. She had to be!
‘It’s about a twenty-minute ride,’ Tama said, still watching her. ‘There’s two vehicles involved and the fire service is only arriving on scene now so we might arrive to find people still trapped.’
Mikki nodded. Her head felt heavy with the unfamiliar helmet and her nod was probably over-eager. She became still again. This was her first opportunity to show Tama what she was capable of professionally and she was determined not to mess it up.
‘Take a look around in the back here.’
They had their helmet radios on a different channel to the one Josh and Steve were using as they discussed navigation. Tama’s voice, inside the helmet, was so clear and close it was disturbingly intimate. As though he had his mouth right beside her ear, his lips close enough to touch her skin.
And that gave Mikki a shiver to add to the strange physical sensations this ride was already clocking up.
‘We haven’t had a chance to go through the gear in here.’ Tama’s voice continued to caress her ear. ‘Might be a good idea if you at least knew where the basics were.’
She was ready for the weight of the helmet this time. Her nod was carefully controlled.
‘You can talk, you know,’ Tama said drily. ‘You’ve got a mike as well as earphones in there.’
‘OK.’
‘See where the portable oxygen is?’
‘Yes.’
‘There’s adult and child masks, acute and nebuliser, plus a non-rebreather in the pouch.’
‘What’s in that big pack?’
‘It’s called a Thomas pack. It’s got pretty well everything and it’s what we take from the chopper for a job like this. Blood-pressure cuffs and a stethoscope, chest decompression sets, intubation gear, bag mask unit, IV gear, fluids and drugs. We’ll go through it properly when we’re back at base.’
Mikki had a sudden inkling of what this was like from Tama’s viewpoint. She was being allowed out on a job before she really had any idea about resources and protocols. Before he had any idea what her level of skill was. He was probably thinking—quite rightly—that she could be a hindrance rather than any help.
Mikki took a deep breath and tried to quell her rush of nerves but they came back with a vengeance when they slowly circled the scene and came in to land. The view from up high was spectacular but getting the big picture with such clarity made this all seem almost overwhelming.
Traffic was backed up for miles in both directions, with police cars blocking the road well away from the accident site, so that even before Mikki could glimpse what they were heading for, she already had the impression it was major.
More police cars. Fire engines and two ambulances and so many people made up the inner circle and there—in its centre—were two horribly mangled vehicles. A car and a small truck. Mikki could see someone lying on the ground and another sitting with ambulance officers in attendance. And, judging by the cluster of rescue workers, someone else was still trapped in the car.
Multiple patients, potentially critically injured, but it shouldn’t be throwing her into this kind of a spin. She dealt with the aftermath of MVAs all the time in Emergency and she was good at it. They often had more than one victim arrive from a single incident.
But this was very, very different.
These people hadn’t already been triaged and stabilised by competent paramedics. Removed from a scene of carnage to arrive neatly packaged on a stretcher into a department that was well prepared with equipment and personnel. This was frontline stuff with an emotional element Mikki hadn’t expected, thanks to seeing the lines of traffic and the scope of the rescue effort and being there—in real time—to imagine the shock of having one’s life so unexpectedly thrown into chaos.
You know what to do, Mikki reminded herself as the helicopter touched down in a paddock beside the road, far enough away for the rotor wash not to create havoc. It’s basic. Airway, breathing, circulation. Assess each one and deal with it if it’s not adequate before moving on to the next. It may be more difficult and messier out here in the field but the priorities were the same.
And this was exactly where she wanted to be, wasn’t it? Frontline. Dealing with all the complications any kind of environment could create.