Distress Call
Ficlets and Ficly survivor, FicMom, and Mistress of Well-Intentioned Indecision and Goddess of Unrequited Love. @ElshaHawk @HawkandYoung
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My job was to escort the right people into the caldera. If I came across the wrong sort, well.
As a 'leader', I carried a radio for contact from Operations inside. I got a distress call. Midwife needed, several miles away. Leaving the hometown crew, I hiked, gear on my back for hours, confident the delivery would be hours away.
I was right. However, the mother could not handle this delivery. Despite the efforts of myself and the nurses who had come to help, we need a real doctor, a surgeon, or an OB. Tears flowed as the screaming babe was wrapped up in blankets, while the silent mother was covered with a sheet.
I was to take the babe to safety inside the caldera. It slept peacefully in my wrap sling, a girl, tiny, pink, and healthy. I felt it squirm on occasion, repositioning itself. I remembered what it felt like to have one kicking in my own belly. Then I thought about the eyes full of desire, the wife who wanted to care so much.
I set a new course. Operations would have to adjust.
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