Cold Grave by Kathryn Fox Page B

the shelves.
    ‘May I ask one thing? Did Lilly choose anything from here to read?’
    Jasmine nodded. ‘Typical Lilly. She couldn’t believe her luck finding a copy: Romeo and Juliet . She loved the romance and cried when the lovers died.’

6
     
    That afternoon, the kids’ club pager bleeped. Anya rang and was asked to head straight to the medical centre. There was an emergency. The Irish counsellor was quick to reassure her that Ben was fine but that’s all she knew. Anya hurried and once inside the main doors, followed the screaming. It sent the hairs on the back of her neck to attention. It had to be Martin. She pushed open the treatment room door.
    Doctor Novak glared in her direction. ‘Out!’
    ‘I called her.’ Karen managed above the wailing of a dark-haired man. ‘We need all the help we can get.’
    Anya felt relief flood through her. Martin was OK.
    A younger woman with a copper-coloured ponytail and green-rimmed glasses held a large surgical pad in its half-open pack for Karen. With blood-stained gloves, the senior nurse reached over and collected it, maintaining sterility.
    ‘We’re going to need a lot more,’ she instructed. ‘Rachel, there’s another box on the top shelf.’ She gestured with her head toward the glass-door cabinet.
    In contrast to the junior nurse’s crisp, white uniform and skirt, Karen’s was saturated with blood across her belly and hips.
    The man writhed, face down on the treatment bed. Tourniquets were tied just below his dark blue trousers, which had been cut at mid-thigh level. Karen placed the pads on top of the ones already there, compressing the backs of the knees. The man screamed at the contact.
    ‘Can you do anaesthetic?’ the doctor snapped.
    Anya was taken aback. She had only ever assisted in anaesthetics as a medical student. ‘What happened?’
    The patient screamed again.
    Rachel handed her some gloves and a plastic apron, which she slipped on.
    ‘Carlos is a crew member. From Colombia.’ Karen flicked her head to remove hair from the middle of her forehead. ‘Shot in the backs of both knees.’
    Anya’s eyes widened. Shot? On a cruise? That explained the severe pain. Kneecapping was one of the cruellest acts; more painful than being shot in the chest and it generally caused long-term damage.
    Doctor Novak repositioned the overhead light before collecting packets from a cupboard. Each parcel had a strip of black tape on the outside, proof it had been sterilised in an autoclave.
    Karen had said Doctor Novak was a military surgeon. Anya’s heart picked up pace.
    ‘You’re not thinking of . . .’ She didn’t want to alarm anyone else in the room, especially the patient. ‘Dissecting?’
    The whites of Karen’s eyes flared. ‘We can’t. We have to stabilise him until we can get a medical team for an airlift.’ She looked to Anya for support. ‘There’s a helipad on the top deck.’
    ‘You’re not talking of amputation?’ Rachel said, sounding shocked. ‘We can’t do that.’
    Dark red blood leached through the pads in Karen’s hands. The patient panted faster.
    Anya hated to think how much pain he must be in.
    Another officer knocked and entered the room, perspiring. He caught sight of the blood and colour drained from his face. He half-turned away from the patient and swallowed hard.
    ‘I’ve spoken to the captain. We won’t be in helicopter range for at least eighteen hours, and we’re sailing into bad weather.’
    That meant there was no guarantee a helicopter could land even if they were in range.
    Doctor Novak spoke first. ‘He will not survive unless we amputate. Better to live with no legs than die.’
    Carlos began to flail again. As he turned his head, his dark, desperate eyes met Anya’s. He grabbed her wrist with all his strength.
    ‘ Please . Help!’
    Twisting, she tried to loosen his grip and bent down to his face. ‘We’re doing everything we can.’ He released her wrist and Anya placed a hand on his