Tracy

003:

"Get the sat phone! Call an ambulance!" Jake yelled as he slammed his car door and braved the screeching tires to get to the other side of the car where Tracy had fortunately slumped unconscious against the seatbelt and her door. Her leg was bleeding and welted with a deep black and blue mark from being caught in the door and her hand was bleeding across the knuckles from the same. Casey didn't move.

"You little shit! You do what I say and do it-----." Jake undid the seat belt, and let Tracy slump into his arms, the heat of her alarming him. She must have a fever. Just touching her made him feel sick.

Casey got out and slammed his own door, but all he did was stick out his thumb for a ride. Several cars had pulled over.

Jake ordered another person to get the sat phone between the driver's seat and the front passenger's seat. As soon as it was brought he called 9-1-1 and requested an ambulance. It was doubtful at this hour they could get here any sooner than he could have taken her. He sat back on his haunches, examining the semi-conscious girl as she began to flutter into awareness once more. Another car stopped and the horse's butt leader of the band zoomed away.

"I'm sorry." Tracy mumbled, beginning to focus. Jake got the first aid kit he carried in all of his vehicle's trunks and had never had occasion to use. He started to clean her leg when another pair of hands gently pushed his away.

"I'm a medic." And in uniform, Jake observed as he moved to the side and allowed this man to take over. His legs were shaking anyway with his rage at Casey.

"I quit." He muttered to himself, running a hand over his hot forehead. He remembered Tracy's heat and asked the medic if he thought she had a fever. The man's hand rested against the girl's forehead just a second, and in her half-conscious awareness she shoved it feebly away.

He chuckled. "Maybe." He turned and looked up at Jake with startlingly blue eyes the color of gemstones, and just as deeply fringed as Tracy's own--- although he knew hers were blonde if she didn't put a ton of make-up on. He ran his hand over his head again, knowing he was sweating even in the cold.

"I'm Raine Maverick. Nice to meet you."

"Are you an officer?" Tracy's voice was at least coherent, and Jake breathed a sigh of relief. Who did one call when Tracy Nelson McCaffrey needed a next of kin call? Michael Adam Gage, that's who. He lifted the sat phone and plugged in the number.

"Yes. I'm an officer in the Navy." He gently lifted her leg so he could wrap the bandage around her cuts.

"They have officers in the Navy?" Tracy's voice was foggy and indistinct. She winced as his fingers dug into her calf. She tried to pull away. "Do you have to hurt me?"

Raine Maverick shrugged. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Miss. I'm trying to help you. Lucky for you your driver was able to get over in time so you didn't fall out of the car. It would have been a different picture entirely if you had."

"Yeah, I'd be dead." She groaned and pulled her leg away. "I'm okay. Just---- just go. I mean, thanks for helping me. I'll be okay now."

"Your driver has an ambulance coming, I'm pretty sure."

She moaned low and rolled her eyes. "Tell him to stop it. I don't want to go to the hospital. I have a migraine. That's it."

Raine Maverick crouched beside the car door and looked into the blurry eyes of the girl who had almost fallen out of her car. He could assess her for signs of serious brain trauma, but she really was squinting into the glare, and holding her ears to still the noise of the highway---- similar to someone with a migraine. "It still might be best for you go to the hospital anyway, and get checked out."