Bodyguard: Target Read Online Free PDF Page B

numerous other hazards following an
explosion: fuel leaks, chemical spillages, fires,loose masonry and exposed power
lines. All risks had to be assessed before approaching a casualty.
    Charley scanned the
first five metres ahead of her: no obvious danger. Then, together with Jason and two
other buddyguards – David, a tall loose-limbed Ugandan boy, and José, a
street-wise Mexican kid with oil-black hair – Charley performed a wider sweep
of the area. Theycovered a twenty-metre perimeter. All this time the screaming
continued, a desperate plea for help that was impossible to ignore.
    ‘Clear!’ called David as he
finished the initial inspection of the bomb site.
    The smoke was beginning to disperse and
Charley spotted the casualty – a teenage boy. Propped against a wall, his face
was caked in dust and streaked with blood.
    ‘Over here!’ she cried,
racing across to him. But she stopped in her tracks when she saw the severity of the
boy’s injuries. Aside from the bleeding gash across his forehead, his upper
left leg had suffered a major fracture. A sharp white splinter of thigh bone was
sticking out at an odd angle, tissue, muscle and white tendons all exposed. Blood
was pumping from the open wound,pooling in a sticky mess on the concrete. The
gruesome sight turned Charley’s stomach.
    ‘What are you waiting for?’
cried Jason, pushing past her with the medical kit.
    Snapped out of her daze, Charley knelt
down beside the boy.
    ‘It’s OK,’ she told
him, resting a hand gently on his shoulder. ‘We’re going to look after
you.’
    The boy’s unfocused eyes found
Charleyand he stopped screaming. ‘C-can’t hear you!’ he
gasped.
    Charley repeated her
words, louder this time, realizing the bomb’s blast had deafened him.
    Jason glared at her. ‘Are you
going to talk or act?’ he muttered, opening the med-kit and tossing her a pair
of latex barrier gloves.
    ‘I’m trying to reassure him,
that’s all,’ she shot back.
    ‘Then do something useful,’said Jason irritably.
    Gloves on, Charley pressed her hands to
the gaping wound. The casualty cried out in pain. ‘Sorry,’ she said with
a strained smile. ‘I have to stem the blood loss. I’m Charley, by the
way. What’s your name?’
    ‘Blake,’ groaned the boy.
‘
My leg hurts!
’
    ‘Get a tourniquet on him
fast,’ instructed Jason.
    David whipped off his belt and wrappedit round the boy’s upper leg. He pulled it tight and Charley removed her
blood-soaked hands as Jason applied a dressing. With an antiseptic wipe, Charley
cleaned the grime from the boy’s face and inspected the gash to his
forehead.
    ‘Cut looks superficial,’ she
told the others.
    ‘But bruising around the area
indicates a violent impact. Possibility of concussion,’corrected José,
attaching a blood pressure monitor to the casualty’s arm.
    Charley nodded, disappointed at not
assessing the injury correctly. Then she noticed the boy’s eyes losing focus
and his eyelids closing.
    ‘Blake, stay with me!’ He
looked at her weakly. ‘Tell me, where are you from?’
    ‘M-Manchester,’ he gasped
between pained breaths.
    ‘I’ve heard of Manchester.It’s in the north of England,isn’t it? I’m
from California so this country is still new to m–’
    ‘Blood pressure dropping,’
interjected José, studying the monitor’s readout. He placed two fingers
against the boy’s neck. ‘Pulse weakening.’
    The situation was deteriorating too fast
for Charley to compute. Her brain suffered a logjam of information as all her
first-aidtraining spewed out in one garbled mess:
Resuscitation …
Anaphylactic shock … Dr ABC … Hypoxia … Myocardial infarction
…
    Dr ABC
was the only thing that
got through the jumble.
    Danger. Response. Airway. Breathing.
Circulation.
    They’d already checked for danger.
The casualty was responsive. And the boy’s airway was clear since he could
talk. He was also breathing,if a little rapidly. So it was his circulation that was
the