CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nearly midday, the morning was pressing on. Franklin’s brain randomly replayed the sharp drilling of increasing rotor noise and vibrating wuppa wuppa of the rising MICA air ambulance that had double-loaded the critically injured Denise and Sam for transport to the trauma centre at the Alfred Hospital in Melbourne.
He couldn’t shake Sam from his mind. He kept hearing soot in the airways…stridor… we’ll have to intubate and seeing Shannon do the procedure. Over and over.
He used that to spur him on. Made a judgement that the firies were gradually winning against the inferno, not that there was much left of the Murray house, or Bel’s garden out front. He had done a brief canvass of the property, spoken to a cross-section of witnesses, and ruled out more casualties – aside fro
