Two bright red fiberglass oars dipped into murky seawater, propelling the kayak raft forward a few frustrating inches at a time. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, with occasional wind gusts swirling moisture around the bedraggled group.

Thick air muffled Bella’s infuriated screams. Each wail grated against Marcus’s increasingly fragile nerves. She cried out for her mama on a heartbreaking loop, and the steady stream of raindrops masked Esme’s continual tears.

Heavy low clouds blanketed the sky. Dim daylight seeped through, coloring the scene in an eerie glow. They had seen no other people since they rowed out of their shelter half an hour ago.

“When will we reach the evacuation center?” Marcus asked.

Fitz grunted as he pulled his oar back. “The closest one is the stadium. From here, if you drive, it takes 10 minutes with no traffic. At our pace, though…at least a few hours.”

Marcus clenched his jaw and nodded. He glanced at Matty, who stared into the middle distance with half-closed eyes. It was hours to the center and longer to the hospital.

A low groan emitted from Esme’s lips. He hadn’t checked her leg since they left. Part of him didn’t want to. Fitz shot him a glance.

“What do you think?” he asked Marcus.

“About what?”

“The injury. Her leg.”

Marcus shook his head. “I have no idea.” He hesitated, then said, “I had this patient once who was in a car crash. My partner and I got there first, and I found him in the passenger seat. He told me his name, and seemed with it. I wheeled him into the ER and updated the attending physician, who ripped me a new one.”

“Why?” Fitz asked.

“One of the guy’s pupils had blown on the drive — I missed it.”

“Blown?”

“The center of your eyes–the pupil–gets bigger and smaller depending on the brightness of your surroundings. Only a severe brain injury can keep that from happening.”

“Ah, that’s right. It’s been a while since I had to know that stuff,” Fitz said, dipping the oar through the water’s murky surface in a rhythmic pattern.

“That doctor was right. I checked his pupils before we left, but not en route. I should have caught it.”

The men propelled the raft forward in silence, and the oppressive heat prompted the bodies to add yet another layer of sweat to their skin.

“Sounds like an honest mistake, to me,” Fitz said after several long moments.

“No. That doctor was right to lay into me. It was a huge miss.” Marcus opened his mouth to ask his wife if he could do anything for her, then clamped it shut. He had nothing to offer her.

“Matty,” Marcus said, raising his voice over his daughter’s wails. “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when we get home?”

“Sleep.”

Marcus chuckled. “Sleep? No way, mijo. You don’t want to play with Jaxon? Or whoop me at Mario Kart?”

“Nah, I just wanna go to bed, Daddy.”

“Maybe you can have a quick nap. Then I will beat you so badly in the hardest Mario race. And I will claim Mario and Luigi’s game characters first.”

“Daaaaad…”

“Too bad, bud. It’s happening. So, you’d better bring your A-game.”

Bella’s cries dimmed listening to her brother and dad’s conversation. Fitz glanced their way, amused.

“What would you give me to get Mario? And make me take Princess Peach?”

“All my cookies,” Matty said, a shadow of a grin on his face.

“Woah! That sounds like a deal to me–”

“Fishy! Fishy!” Bella yelled out in glee.

“You see a fish, sweetie?” Marcus quirked a small smile.

“Where?” Matty demanded, suddenly alert.

“Dere! Fishy!”

“Uh, Dad?” Matty’s voice quavered.

“Yes, bud?”

“That’s not a fish.”

“What is it?”

“I think it’s an alligator.”

Mike stood against the ambulance’s inner wall, jaw slack, eyes moist, as he watched the paramedic team bustle around his wife.

Carol’s pallid skin matched the gray hue of the concrete. Her body shook under the force of Nora’s chest compressions. The small-framed EMT counted under her breath while Terrance applied two large stickers to their patient’s torso. Each sticker had a tail of thin wires leading to a machine.

Analyzing rhythm, an electronic voice said.

“Clear,” said Nora, lifting her hands away from Carol.

“Why are you waiting?” Mike whimpered.

“We need the device to tell us what’s going on with her heart,” Terrance answered calmly.

The voice intoned, No shock was advised.

“Resuming compressions,” Nora said. “You have an amp of EPI ready?”

“Coming up,” her partner said.

“E…eepi?” Mike cried.

“Epinephrine. It’s a medicine we put in her IV to help restart her pulse.”

Mike slapped a hand over his mouth, and tears streamed over his fingers. Jeanie moved closer and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

Sofia watched in shock, frozen in place.

“Two breaths, please,” Nora demanded.

Terrance squeezed a large clear bag attached to a face mask that covered Carol’s nose and mouth. Her chest rose twice, and then Nora started again.

Analyzing rhythm

“Clear!” Nora and Terrance said in unison.

Shock advised. Stand clear.

“Back, everyone!” Terrance said. “Clear?”

“Clear,” said Nora.

Shock ready

Nora pressed a big orange button, and Carol’s body jerked.

Shock delivered

Terrance took over compressions while Nora moved to the oxygen supply. The moment the count reached “eight,” Carol coughed and gasped. She flailed her arms and gripped Terrance’s polo shirt in a tight fist.

“Stop.” Carol croaked. “Don’t push on me anymore.”

“Honey,” Mike sobbed. He rushed forward and collapsed on her chest.

“Careful, there,” Nora cautioned.

“Rhythm looks good,” Terrance said, watching the monitor.

“Not strong enough,” his partner muttered. “She needs more help.”

“You want to leave?” Jeanie asked.

“I think we need to,” Nora said. “It was okay when Carol was stable, but now…”

“Could that happen again?” Sofia asked.

“Yes,” said Terrance. “And we don’t want it happening out there.”

“She can’t take another round like that,” Nora said under her breath. “Her best hope is to get to a hospital.”

Terrance frowned, thinking.

“Let’s go,” Mike said as he stood. “Right, hon?”

Carol nodded weakly.

“How far was the stadium, Sofia?” Mike asked.

“The place I just left?”

“Yes.”

“It’s…I dunno. But I—we can’t go there.”

Jeanie’s expression was filled with compassion. “We’d be there with you.”

“The evacuation center is almost a mile away. And the rain’s still coming down,” Terrance said, unsure.

Nora climbed around the stretcher, opened the door, and stuck out her arm. “Barely.”

Sofia’s mind reeled, fear prickling her skin as goosebumps raised in answer. Jeanie quietly came to her side, offering her support.

The EMTs bustled through the rig as they packed supplies in bright red duffel bags. They lashed Carol’s vital signs monitor to the stretcher, but throughout the preparations, Sofia had only one thought:

They’re taking me back.

Editor: Lucy Cafiero