Rescue by Anita Shreve Read Free Book Online Page A

be prepared for that. They’re going to have a lot more
     questions than we do.”
    “Shit.”
    “What the hell did you think was going to happen?” the mother cried.
    Burrows leaned into Webster. “We could call the cops off. Kids do stupid stuff to drive their parents crazy all the time.”
    “She’s accused a guy of assault and rape.”
    “What’s your gut tell you?” Burrows asked.
    “Hoax. To drive the mother out of her mind.”
    “Yeah, me too.”
    “I gotta call it in,” Burrows said. He took his radio off his belt. He called Dispatch. “Scene appears to be safe,” he reported.
    “Any weapons involved?”
    “No. Can you give me a better ETA for the PD?”
    “They’re just finishing up now. Should be another fifteen to eighteen minutes.”
    “We going to wait until the cops get here?” Webster asked Burrows when he was off the radio.
    “I guess,” he said. And then he shrugged. “We’ll wait in the rig till they come.”
    Had Burrows and Webster not been twenty minutes into overtime, Webster later thought, they might have shown better judgment.
    Webster walked over to the sullen teenager on the couch. She lay back against the pillows with her legs wide open, as if she
     were either the most relaxed person in western Vermont, or the most seductive. “It’s a serious offense to lie to a nine-one-one
     operator,” he said. “Don’t do it again.”
    As he walked away, Webster was sure he heard a mincing echo.
Don’t do it again.
He wanted to turn around and give her a harsh lecture. He didn’t.
    They climbed up into the rig. Webster drove to the end of the long driveway and they waited fifteen minutes before they saw
     the cops approaching. Nye rolled down his window. “What’s up?”
    “A hoax,” Webster, in the driver’s seat, said. “A girl trying to piss off her mother.”
    “Just what we need.”
    McGill groaned.
    “It’s up to you,” said Webster. “Maybe the girl needs a talking-to, I don’t know, but she’s breaking her mother’s balls.”
    Nye rolled his eyes.
    Webster and Burrows took off for Rescue. They weren’t a mile from the house when Dispatch signaled again. “Report of serious
     injuries at your previous scene.”
    “It’s a hoax,” Burrows radioed in. “A daughter trying to drive her mother nuts. Prank call.”
    “I don’t think so,” the dispatcher calmly disagreed. “Cop called it in. There’s someone screaming in the background.”
    Webster reversed the rig and pushed it hard. He sprinted when they got to the house, thinking if this were still a hoax, Burrows
     would have the girl arrested. He pushed through the front door. There was no sign of the girl, but the mother was screaming.
     There were burns and blisters down the right side of her face and along her throat. Her scalp showed where her hair had burned.
    “Fuck,” Webster said softly.
    Nye was trying to get the woman to lie on the sofa.
    “We’ll take care of that,” Burrows said. “You find the girl? She’s probably upstairs.”
    “McGill’s got her. Also found an empty bottle of toilet bowl cleaner on the floor.” Nye pointed to where the bottle had rolled.
    Burrows took over the airway. The vapor from the acid could burn the woman’s throat. He intubated and then started an IV for
     the pain. He tried to calm the woman.
    “Hydrochloric acid,” Burrows said to Webster. “We have toflush it out. Get me a large pitcher of cool water. Jesus, it’s in her eye. It’s full thickness on the cheek.”
    Burrows cut her clothing off and removed all of her jewelry. There might still be acid on her clothing. He covered her with
     a blanket.
    He gave the woman fentanyl for the pain.
    When Webster returned with the pitcher, Burrows began the flushing, making sure he wasn’t causing any acid to spill onto healthy
     tissue.
    “You guys were just here, right?” Nye asked.
    “Yes,” Webster said, “but everything was fine.”
    Nye stared.
    “Everything seemed fine,” Webster