Chapter 14

My heart beat faster, anxiety bubbling in my chest as I watched the young girl. Prominent fear reflected in her eyes, and she stared as I made my way over to her. First aid kit clenched in my left hand and the ropes of a small raft I was dragging behind me in my right, water surged around my feet as I struggled through the flooding Hurricane Katrina had left behind. All around me was destruction and rubble. 

Roofs of houses had been torn off and people’s belongings littered the ground. The mud and water that filled the streets was nearly up to my knees in some areas.  There was no one around; it was so different from the usually bustling city of New Orleans. Residents had either evacuated or been stuffed into shelters, and if they stayed in their houses throughout the storm they were mostly gone by now. After all, it’s been three days since Katrina passed.

Wind howled through the air, tangling my chocolate brown hair as it was whipped around. The scrawny trunks that remained of what once were trees bent in the wind, and the scarce leaves that were left went fluttering off into the sky. The low hanging clouds were an ominous gray, a promise of more rain. I reached the child at last, approaching what seemed to be a pile of debris and roofing she was sitting upon in order to stay dry. 

“Don’t be afraid; I'm here to help you. My name’s Anna, and I’m part of FEMA, a search and rescue agency.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, hoping the panic glistening in her eyes would subside a bit. She couldn’t be more than six, and for a brief moment I sympathized with how difficult all of this must be for her. She had probably lost her home and family and had eaten nothing for a few days. 

“Do you know where your parents are? Any of your belongings?” I tried again. After a moment she shook her head. 

“N-no,” she murmured, grey eyes widening. “Our house flooded.” I breathed out a sigh, shaking my head as I realized how thin and sickly she looked. Her ragged shirt clung to her feeble frame, and her face was as pale as a ghost’s. 

“I need to get you back to the rest of my team.” I hoisted the little girl onto the raft with ease and grabbed one of the ropes. Seconds later I was dragging it behind me, the girl perched on top and water swirling around my ankles as I trudged through the flooding.

 We reached the deck of an abandoned, wrecked house, where the rest of my search and rescue team, along with my rescue dog, Rocky, was waiting. We were greeted with cheers and praise. I helped the child out of the raft to the dry, elevated deck where she stood and stared down at Rocky, eyes bugging out. The collie sat and gazed back at her, his tongue lolling out and tail beating against the wood deck, but he didn’t dare to move towards her. I grabbed his half filled water dish from where it sat on the ledge of the deck and placed it in front of him, giving him a pat. Even though it wasn’t extremely hot out, the humidity was suffocating, and I couldn’t imagine how overheated he must be with his thick, long fur, and his red vest that said RESCUE DOG wrapped around him.

“I’ll be right back,” I told the child, glancing from her to Rocky before joining the other three members of our rescue team, Caleb, Maya, and Briana. They sat on rickety folding chairs that they had brought with them, and I sat down in the unoccupied one. 

“How is she?” Caleb inquired, gesturing vaguely to the little girl. I glanced over, noticing she had inched a bit closer to Rocky and was now sitting down. Her long, blonde wisps of hair flew behind her as the wind billowed around us, and she laughed as Rocky reached out his head to gently lick her fingers. She looked fine now, happy, even. But you could still see the slight jut of her ribs peeking out from under her t-shirt, and her face was sunken, colored a ghastly white. 

“We should take her to get medical attention. She’s malnourished and dehydrated, and if we don’t take care of her soon I'm afraid it could get a lot worse,” I explained, worry brimming my tone as I turned my attention back to my search team. Maya was nodding in agreement, but Briana just silently looked at the child, a thoughtful expression plastered across her face. I stood up briskly, brushing the remaining dirt and debris off my shirt. 

“Let’s go,” I ordered, not waiting to see if the others were following me. I helped the child up and marched down the steps to where the raft floated atop the foot of flooding, letting her grab my arm to steady herself as she stepped onto the raft. Rocky obediently jumped in after her, the raft dipping a bit at the extra weight. 

My colleagues and I waded through the water, stepping over piles of debris and demolished houses. The ropes of the raft were clenched in Caleb’s hand as he dragged it behind him. 

We were discussing the conditions of the girl in hushed, quiet voices, when suddenly the water tugging at our boots wasn’t as high. A swarm of people stood about a hundred feet away from us, where one of the medical teams was stationed on dry land. I could make out the small tents where their medical equipment and belongings were stashed. 

Right as I was going to point out the team to Maya and Briana, a thunderous bark from Rocky split the air. I knew my dog better than anyone, and, hearing the alarm in his bark, I immediately knew something was wrong. Panic surged through me as I spun around and saw why the collie was upset; the little girl was lying, unmoving in the raft, her eyes closed and breathing shallow. My rescue team must’ve noticed too because suddenly we were thrown into chaos. 

  “Help!” Maya screamed, jogging over to the medical team with Briana at her side. At the same time, Caleb moved to scoop the girl out of the raft. Rocky and I followed close behind Caleb as he carried the girl over to the medical team. I watched the child as she was placed on one of the blue cots the medical team had set up underneath one of their pop up canopy tents. My chest felt tight, and anguish washed over me as I looked at her. She lay, unmoving, her chest barely rising with her ragged breath. What’s wrong with me?’Death was inevitable during our searches here in New Orleans. Hundreds of people died from the hurricane itself, and every day our rescue teams and others had uncovered people that were trapped under piles of destruction, the life sucked out of them. So why was it so hard for me to look at this unconscious child whose name I didn’t even know? 

A light drizzle had begun outside, a promise to make the flooding much worse. I stepped back from the cot as medics crowded the little girl. I didn’t know where the rest of my team had disappeared to, except for Rocky, who was still at my side. I sat down in a flimsy chair that was set up near the edge of the tent, my head spinning. The quiet sound of rain beating against the canopy overhead calmed me, and I don’t know how long I sat there before I summoned the courage to approach the medical team again. I tapped one of the medics that seemed unoccupied, and he spun around. 

“Yes?” he asked, glancing from me to the little girl.

“Will she be okay?” The question was meant to sound confident and authoritative, but it came out as more of an anguished whimper. The man hesitated, and when he finally responded, his answer was resigned.

“We are doing the best we can.”

I sighed, deeply dissatisfied with his answer, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. Turning around, I started to go back to my seat, where Rocky was waiting, when I heard a glimpse of what the man murmured next into his walkie talkie.

“The girl is going to need more serious medical attention.”

-Ava Vitali