Chapter Thirteen

The next morning brought the realization of Sarah’s biggest fear. The two storm systems had indeed merged in spectacular fashion as the weatherman predicted they might. Worse, the mega-storm stalled directly over Denver and the surrounding area and churned out inch after inch of heavy snow.

She got a flight update notification shortly after eight a.m. that confirmed what she already suspected – no one would be flying into or out of Denver International Airport for at least the next two days, much less her now cancelled flight that was supposed to depart at four-thirty p.m.

She sighed, shook her head, and dialed a number.

“It’s me,” she said when Karli picked up the call. “You don’t have to worry about coming to the airport to get me tonight. Everything up here is shut down. The way things are going, I’ll be lucky to be out of here by Sunday.”

A call beeped in, and Sarah said, “Hang on a second, Jodie’s calling.”

“Call me back, okay?” Karli said and disconnected.

Sarah swiped right to accept and said, “Hi Jodie, how are things there?”

“Hey kiddo. I figured you might want to know – your suitcase made it home safe and sound. A nice young man with the airline just dropped it off. Now, when are you coming back?”

***

It was just before midnight on Friday, and Tim and Jordan were hoping for a quiet shift. But it was not meant to be.

The alarm sounding had them racing to their rig, responding to a wrong-way driver crash on Interstate 20.

“Let’s roll, man,” Jordan urged, and Tim pulled out of the bay and hit the sirens and lights.

In mere minutes they’d arrived on scene. Jordan went to the back of the unit to grab the gurney just as Tim got a call over the radio.

“Come again?” he said, then, “Roger, we’re on it.”

“Jordan!” he yelled out the window as two more ambulances arrived.

“What?”

“Just got word there’s another car involved. Down there,” Tim told him, and pointed off the bridge. “Let’s go.”

Jordan double-timed it back to the passenger seat and they made their way to the service road below, where an overturned car awaited them.

Tim could hear the man that had called it in telling Jordan he’d been talking to the driver trapped in the car.

“But he’s not answering me anymore,” the man lamented, and Jordan started toward the wrecked vehicle while Tim got the gurney and the kit.

He’d just about made it over to Jordan’s side when his partner began to yell at the top of his lungs.

“Evan? Evan!”

“Jordan – what’s going on?”

“It’s my best friend…dammit, Evan, don’t you die on me. Don’t you freakin die on me, man,” Jordan babbled as he felt desperately for a pulse.

He whipped his head around and looked at Tim, his eyes wide with adrenaline.

“We gotta get him out of there, man. We gotta…but he’s pinned. We need the jaws, Tim. Call it in.”

Tim stepped away and keyed the mic on his collar to request the extrication tools needed to free Evan from his car. Then he hurried back to Jordan, who by now was in tears.

“I can’t feel a pulse…” he managed. “No pulse.”

“Move,” Tim commanded, and Jordan wriggled out of the way.

Tim, being the smaller of the two, was able to push his upper body through the drivers’ side window and get closer to Evan. A lack of carotid pulse and no sign of breathing, followed by checking the pupils’ reactiveness to light, confirmed for Tim what he already suspected – Evan was beyond helping.

By the time the extrication equipment had arrived, Jordan was sitting on the ground with his back up against the ambulance’s rear tire, pale and glassy eyed with shock and grief.

“What’s with Baker? He all right?” Dan asked as he approached the car with the jaws of life.

“He knows him,” Tim murmured. “That’s his best friend.”

“Jesus. Get him out of here, Tim. He doesn’t need to see this.”

“I tried,” Tim answered, shaking his head. “He won’t go.”

***

At four a.m. Tim and Jordan were back at Station Number Two, sitting in the kitchen with cups of coffee.

It had taken over a half-hour to remove Evan’s body from his crumpled car. After that, Jordan had insisted that he and Tim be the team to transport Evan to the hospital, where the emergency room doctor made the official pronouncement. Then he’d asked to be the one to notify Karli, Evan’s wife.

“I’ve known both of them for years,” he’d said earnestly. “Please. I really need to be the one she hears this from.”

And his superiors granted his request. He’d inclined his head in thanks, then gone back into the triage room to stay with his friend until morgue transport arrived.

Now Jordan sat, coffee untouched, leaning over the table with his head in his hands, trying to prepare himself for one of the worst conversations anyone could have.

“Seventh grade,” he told Tim, his voice hoarse with emotion. “He’s been my best friend since seventh grade.”

“I’m so sorry, buddy,” Tim murmured, his hand resting on Jordan’s shoulder.

I know how this feels, Tim acknowledged to himself. All I can do is be there for him and let him know he’s not alone.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jordan rasped before emotion overcame him again.

“You’re my partner, man. Here is where I’m supposed to be. Do you want me to go with you to tell her?”

Jordan sighed heavily.

“No. But thanks, Tim.”

***

Saturday morning brought little relief from the massive storm system still spinning slowly in place over the greater Denver area.

When Sarah’s cell phone rang at seven a.m., she pounced on it, eager to communicate with someone back home.

“Hey girl! What’s up?” she said cheerfully but was greeted by sobs.

“Karli? Karli, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Sarah… Evan’s dead.”

“What happened?”

“He…he died in a car accident last night,” Karli blurted, then cried even harder.

“I will find a way to get home, Karli, as fast as I can,” Sarah said with determination.

“No, please don’t. I don’t want anything to happen to you too,” came the answer. “Please, Sarah. Don’t get out in that storm. Wait until it’s safe. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

***

Evan’s funeral service was held on Tuesday at two p.m., a pale and somber Karli sitting between Jordan and Evan’s mother Madge in the front row of the chapel.

But it was Tuesday night before Sarah was finally able to fly back to Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport.

Karli met her at baggage claim, and the two friends cried together.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Sarah told her as she hugged Karli tightly. “I’m so sorry.”