When Past and Present Collide by Emma Nisbet (grnfield).
This was originally started for the TIWF 'Uncovered' challenge but it ended up going off on a complete tangent and went way over the 10,000 word limit (way, way over!)
Be warned that there are some gory parts (in a medical context) but nothing bad enough to push it into the mature section.
This is set in a different universe to my story "A Tracy by Any Other Name" and my usual disclaimer applies: if you recognise anyone the chances are they were thought up and developed by Gerry Anderson. If you don't recognise them then they are probably mine!
~#~
It was the sort of rescue that everyone dreaded. As occasionally happened, fog had caused an accident on one of the busiest highways in the US and eighty three cars had been involved by the time anyone thought to call in International Rescue.
Scott, as usual, arrived first. He flew in above the level where many of the police and rescue helicopters were hovering over the crash and located a field nearby which was big enough to hold both Thunderbirds 1 and 2.
He landed gently and radioed back to Virgil to 'step on it'. Virgil confirmed that he was well underway so Scott cut the connection and concentrated on getting Mobile Control unpacked and set up.
Once that was done he threw some flare markers onto the field to signal Virgil's landing spot and went out to join the chaos up on the roadway.
~#~
Virgil landed safely, made contact with Scott, then unloaded the Firefly and trundled away towards the front of the accident to where several large trucks were well ablaze.
Gordon and Alan jumped onto hoverbikes and went off in opposite directions in order to offer help and hope to as many people as possible.
Over the years, the boys had discovered that their presence alone was often enough to bring a sense of calm to many people on a rescue site. People, both rescuees and rescuers, spotted International Rescue's distinctive blue uniforms and calm demeanours and assumed that all their problems were over. Obviously this often tended to be far from the truth because the people were still in whatever peril they had found themselves in but if the sight of an International Rescue crew member could reduce the stress, and blood pressures, of some of those teetering at the end of their lifelines then that could only be a good thing.
~#~
Scott had made himself known to the local fire-fighters and was working his way, car by car, down a dark and dimly lit section of the freeway. Many of the streetlamps had been destroyed in the crash and the helicopters were far enough away that the light in the area could, at best, be described as dusky.
The pilot carried a powerful lamp and led a small team of volunteers down the crush of cars. They were entering each car in turn and offering help, blankets, water and reassurance to the poor souls trapped inside. Those not-too severely injured were being helped from their vehicles, either to join with the helpers or to aid in keeping those still trapped calm as comfortable as possible.
The rescue effort dragged on and over time, Scott's usually-pristine uniform became peppered with dirt and grime. He slipped and stumbled as he tired but refused to give up while there was the possibility of anyone still being trapped. He spied a small red station wagon which had become wedged beneath the trailer of an eighteen-wheeler truck and walked cautiously towards it.
A pale face from inside the car turned and watched his approach. Scott's eye caught the movement and he offered a small smile of support.
He eventually reached the vehicle and crouched beside it. "Hey," he murmured softly thought the broken window. "My name's Scott and I'm here to help."
"Lilly," the young woman responded. "…and the little guy in the back there is Jordan."
Scott craned his head around and looked into the back of the car. A red-haired, red-faced child of about two years old was fast asleep, strapped tightly into his seat in the passenger side of the vehicle. "Has he been awake at all?" he asked quietly. "…and if he was, did he seem like he was hurt?"
Lilly let out a gentle sigh. "He seemed OK, just absolutely terrified. He was awake for a while but screamed himself to sleep just a few minutes before you appeared."
Scott nodded. "And how about you? Are you in any pain?"
Lilly lifted her hand and rested it on her stomach which was wedged against the steering wheel. "We," she said softly, "Aren't doing all that well, I'm afraid. I'm completely pinned but I can't feel anything below my waist which I'm not taking as a good sign. Adam…well he's upset. He doesn't like this position and I think the wheel might be pressing on him. I can still feel him moving around though."
Scott's gaze followed the movement of Lilly's hand and his eyes opened wide as he took in the meaning of her words. "How far along?" he whispered. "Lilly, how far along are you?"
"Thirty six weeks," she replied. "Only another month to go. This was to be our last big outing before Adam arrived. It was supposed to be a special treat for Jordan before he became a big brother. He's been excited about the baby but I wanted to do something special, just him and me, before Adam came."
Scott nodded. "I can understand that," he murmured. "I've been through it a few times myself."
"You have children?" Lilly asked. "I bet you're a great dad, too. You have gentle eyes."
Scott blinked at this and then shook his head. "I didn't mean that," he replied. "I mean that I'm a big brother…four times over."
"There are five of you?" Lilly said softly. "I always wanted two and that's what I've got. Five? Wow, your Mom must have been Superwoman."
Lilly's words bit Scott deeply and he swallowed hard. Taking a moment to compose himself again he looked skyward only to have to turn away when a helicopter flew overhead and dropped its light beam directly onto him. "The cavalry have arrived," he announced. "The medics should be following the chopper so you'll be out of here soon. Don't be surprised if little Adam makes his appearance somewhat sooner than you may have originally planned though. It's not uncommon for something like this to push a woman into early labour. He'll be fine though, as I said, the medics are on their way."
Lilly smiled gently and stroked the top of her stomach. "Thanks," she said wryly and then looked passed Scott to where a white-haired man was approaching. "A cavalry of one," she murmured. "Better than nothing I suppose."
Scott turned and saw a man picking his way carefully towards them. He walked out to meet the man and held his hand out in greeting. "Scott."
"Doctor Turvey," the man replied, returning Scott's handshake. "We're a bit thin on the ground back there so I'm 'it' for now. What have we got?"
"Male, approximately two years of age," Scott began. "Apparently unharmed but very scared and currently asleep. Female, mid to late twenties, thirty six weeks gestation, pinned in the front seat and suffering from total loss of sensation from the waist down. Foetus is active but mother reports that he seems to be in some discomfort."
The doctor nodded. "OK. Well, thirty six weeks isn't too bad. I've delivered earlier but hopefully it won't come to that. This isn't the best of places to be brought into the world."
Scott looked around and shuddered. "No," he agreed. "It certainly isn't. Mother seems stable for now but I'm worried what we'll find when we try to move her."
The doctor nodded again and then stepped past Scott and crouched beside the car. "Derek Turvey, medical doctor, at your service," he said softly. "We're going to see what we can do about getting you out of here pretty soon. Does that sound good to you?"
Lilly nodded. "Sure does, Doc. Hey, where's he off to?"
The doctor turned to see Scott scrambling up the cab of the eighteen-wheeler. He wrenched the door open, leant inside for a moment and then leant back out and shook his head to let the doctor know that the trucker hadn't survived.
As carefully as he could, Scott pulled himself up and over the trucker's body and returned shortly afterwards with a tool box, tire iron and a crow bar.
He dropped back to the floor beside the truck and then paced slowly back towards the station wagon where he dropped everything on the floor beside the driver's door. "Not perfect," he announced. "But it'll have to do. Let's have a go at opening your door first, then we'll see what we can do about getting you out of there."
Scott attempted to open the door in the usual way but found that it was tightly jammed against the other bodywork and resorted to levering it open with the crowbar. With a show of brute force, and the precipitous use of his boot, he managed to bend the door backwards, snapped it off its hinges and threw it off to one side out of the way.
Once the door was out of the way, Scott grabbed his lamp, aimed it into the car's footwell and stepped back to allow the doctor to take a look. From the brief glimpse, the pilot had seen that Lilly's legs were badly crushed and realised that it was highly likely that the young mother would never walk again.
He took a quiet look into the back of the car to find that Jordan was, mercifully, still asleep. The tot had exhausted himself so completely with his earlier screaming fit that Scott hadn't disturbed him while removing the door. The pilot smiled tightly and then looked out across the wreckage and realised that someone was walking towards him.
"You look like you're in need of some help over here," the fire-fighter, a strapping, well-built African-American, commented as he pulled up beside the car. "There's another two guys on the way; they'll be here in a minute." He walked around to where the doctor was working on Lilly and whistled under his breath. "Me and the guys'll get you out of there, Missy," he said loudly. "Don't you worry about anything. We've got a veritable city of tents and wagons set up back down the road there. We've even got our very own hospital, complete with operating theatre and everything. We'll get you and that big ol' bump of yours back there and before you know it you'll be tucked up safe in a soft, warm hospital bed. Does that sound like a plan?"
Lilly smiled at the fire-fighter's words. "Soft and warm sounds real like a real good plan," she whispered. "But someone will need to watch Jordan until my husband gets here. He's a good boy but he's in no doubt as to where his feet are and he'll be off before you notice if something scares him."
The fire-fighter nodded. "Me an' the boys can do that for you, Missy." He looked past Lilly, into the back of the car and grinned. "Well, well, we've got ourselves a feisty little red-head, have we? He sure looks like fun. We'll keep him safe for you, all little boys love finding their ways round a fire truck."
Lilly nodded this time and then winced as something the doctor was doing caused a sharp stab of pain to run through her entire body. "Ow," she said feebly. "If you could refrain from doing that again, I'd be really grateful." She turned back to the fire-fighter. "The name's Lilly, by the way, not Missy."
"Nice to meet you Missy Lilly," the fire-fighter responded with a grin. "The name's Errol but only my Mama calls me that. Everyone else calls me Charlie."
Lilly tried to smile but it came out as a grimace when another sharp pain ran through her. "Well, Charlie, I'd say it was a pleasure but…agh…maybe we'll save that for later." Lilly sucked in a ragged breath as the doctor pressed gently on her lower abdomen and then gasped when she noticed his hand came away coated in dark crimson blood. "God," she hissed. "What's happening?"
The doctor looked grim. "We need to get you out of there…and fast," he announced. "You're losing blood from the lower left quadrant of your abdomen, as well as from both legs and I need to get you out so I can get down there and tie…or clamp everything off. Hopefully the baby will decide to stay put long enough to get you back to the temporary hospital but if not…well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to that. Your men…" he turned towards Charlie. "…they're medic trained…and provisioned?"
Charlie nodded. "Blake," he yelled and then turned and yelled back down the road. "Get moving with that bag. Like NOW."
Blake and another man who introduced himself as Steve, approached at a run and skidded to a halt in front of Charlie. Blake hefted the equipment bag at Charlie who put it down, opened it and pulled out a large tarpaulin sheet. He spread this on the ground a few feet from the car and then nudged the bag towards the doctor. Turvey nodded gently and placed it to one side of the tarp before squatting down beside Lilly who was becoming paler by the minute. "These men will get you out," he said softly. "…and I'll do what I can for you and the baby. I…I can't make any guarantees, only that I'll do what I can. Scott, can you watch the boy while we try to extricate his mother?"
Scott, who had been standing back while the discussion between the fire-fighters and the doctor had been taking place, stepped forward and nodded while Lilly smiled at him. "He can do that," she told the doctor faintly. "He has four little brothers. He…he…he's a pro."
Lilly's eyes rolled backwards for a moment before she forced herself awake again. "S…Scott," she stuttered. "Look…look after Jordan. Pleeease…lllook after J-j-ordan."
