Page 15 of Rescuer
Jackson nodded, pressing his lips together. His shoulder muscles tightened. “Let me gear up.”
A minute later, he swung into the cab. “I didn’t catch that last part. Too much static.”
“Firefighters and Southwold police have also been called to the scene.” Swanny pulled away from the bay.
“Southwold police confirming. Two units en route.”
Jackson recognized the voice of Captain Bruce Balluff.
The partners listened to the back-and-forth for another minute.
“Sounds like a bad one.” Jackson peered through the window. The clouds swirled in an angry mass above them. The main street of Southwold stretched out before them, small family-owned businesses lining both sides. They passed coffee shops, restaurants, and various shops. Green grass flowed from the sidewalk to the curb, dotted with shrubs and the occasional tree. In the background, majestic mountains rose like guardians overseeing the city, distant and proud, a mixture of blues, grays, purples, and whites.
Swanny kept his gaze on the road. The siren wailed and the ambulance lights swirled like red and white strobe lights, glinting like prisms in the store windows. The cars on the street slowed, then steered to the side. The ambulance sailed past, the faces staring back at them a blur. “Witnesses said that an SUV that had been driving recklessly failed to make a steep turn and broke through the guardrail on Suicide Lane.”
Jackson’s gut clenched. That curve had gained the nickname of Suicide Lane because several times a year, people drove off the cliff, sometimes accidentally and others not.
Had this driver really taken a turn too fast, or had he tried to end his life?
Jackson silently prayed for the soul in the vehicle. Then he thought about what Swanny had just said. Guardrails were built to withstand serious pressure. How fast had this vehicle been traveling?
“Through the guardrail? It’s only two years old.”
Swanny shook his head. “It’s toast.”
“RAS 1, what’s your ETA?” Captain Balluff asked over the radio.
“Under five minutes, sir,” Jackson responded. The scenery whipped past too fast to capture it all. Just as they turned the curve, two fat droplets hit the windshield.
“No. It’s not supposed to rain until after lunch,” Swanny half growled, half moaned, the sound guttural and grating.
“I guess the weatherman made a mistake.” A few more independent splatters gave the final warning before the clouds opened and rain pounded the vehicle. Visibility narrowed to a small band about twenty feet in front of the vehicle.
Their ETA had just multiplied.
It was closing in on six minutes when Jackson perked up. “Up ahead.” He pointed at the flashing lights piercing the rain. Little red flames welcomed them, showing them the way like breadcrumbs in an old fairy tale. The firefighters had set up flares to line the side of the road in measured increments, like beacons.
“I see them.” Swanny tapped the brakes and twisted the wheel, carefully guiding the ambulance off the main part of the road. The moment the ambulance stopped, Jackson hopped out, grabbing his gear. Within seconds, his uniform clung to him like he’d gone swimming in it. Water dripped from his hair and down his face. He blinked the wetness off his lashes.
Swanny flipped the hazard lights on and jumped out. Officer Geoff Sands greeted Jackson and Swanny. “I took down the plates. While you’re taking care of him, I’ll run them.”
A single SUV teetered on the edge of the road, the front wheels barely on the pavement. The nose hung precariously above the drop, its headlights shining into the empty space before it. The river churned below, the rapid current tumbling over rocks and carrying tree branches and debris in its wake.
“Help!” A scream tore from inside the SUV. “Get me out! Get me out!”
A rusty groan stirred the air. The vehicle shifted. He needed to act now.
Jackson ran to the SUV. The driver’s side window had shattered. Glass was scattered across the pavement, and shards crunched under his boots.
“Careful, buddy!” Swanny called out, only a few feet behind him.
Jackson raised a hand in acknowledgment. The man inside the SUV grew agitated and his movements frantic. The vehicle rocked with the increased motion.
“Sir! Please remain calm. We’re coming to get you out. Please hold still.”
The man shouted louder, his words incoherent. Almost like he was under the influence.
Drunk? It was possible. Or just terrified. Jackson couldn’t rule anything out yet.
