Page 50 of Shielding Instinct

The tourists huddled in one group. The locals stood closer, looking prepared to leap into action.

“Who drove down here?” Petra asked. “Not people in the car, but the person who had their hands on the steering wheel. Can you step forward?”

The men gathered.

Men—these were probably teens still in high school trying to earn a few bucks on the weekend, making the tourists scream and laugh with an adventure that was just an everyday drive for them.

“Okay, guys, in a minute, I need you to go through your vehicles for anything helpful you might have—ropes, blankets, first aid kits, carabiners, climbing gear, tow webbing. I need you to think outside of the box. Something to use as a splint for broken bones. Be imaginative. Just make sure you can bring it back without injuring yourself. One crisis is enough for today. I need those things here so we can figure out what resources we have to try to help this guy.” Petra turned to the woman. “What’s his name?”

“Terry,” she whispered, clasping her hands together and holding them to her chest.

“And you are?”

“M-m-m-melissa.”

The wave was going out. “Terry,” Petra hollered into the hole, “Melissa is safe. We’re working on getting you out. Try to reserve your energy. Your goal is to keep breathing deeply.”

There were no cries for help since she’d told Terry they were on the scene.

That might be a good thing.

Or it could bode very badly.

Petra pulled her phone from her bikini top.

No bars.

“Anyone have connectivity?” she asked, holding her phone aloft.

“No one does,” Beans said. “We don’t get cell reception until we’re up on the road.”

Petra scowled. “How far up?”

Beans cast his gaze back toward the vehicles. “At The Social Club with the drinking pig.”

“Far then. I need someone who has a vehicle that hasn’t been breaking down every five minutes like ours was. You all know each other. I need the person with the most reliable vehicle to get to a place where they can make emergency calls.” She was using the voice her instructors taught her at Quantico, speaking from the chest. It was an authoritative sound that convinced people to comply. The one that made everyone aware thatshewas in charge.

Did she want to be an authority and in charge?

Honestly, no.

This wasn’t a television show. There were no guarantees. There was a man who could very well die in the next few minutes, and it could well be that there was nothing anyone could do.

But if that did happen, everyone would have a better psychological outcome if they knew they had participated in a rescue attempt.

One of the young men half-raised his hand as if he were in class. “My car is solid. I can drive out and get help.”

“Okay, good. What’s your name?”

“Bobby.”

Petra reached out her hand. “Can you give me your phone, Bobby?”

Petra tried to come up with the right message to send to 9-1-1 when it occurred to her that if those crazy waves hit the entire coast, Terry wouldn’t be the only person in dire straits today.

Desperate calls could well be overwhelming emergency services.

Petra was going to reach out to Cerberus. If they didn’t have the right equipment, at least they’d have the expertise and the brawn needed to attempt the rescue.

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